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  THE FIRE OF LOVE
  by Richard Rolle 
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Rolle's medieval mystical work on the contemplative dimensions of Christian
spirituality, emphasizing the soul's burning love for God and the transformative
fire of divine love that consumes worldly attachments.

  Chapters: 87

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS
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    0. The Fire Of Love
    1. INTRODUCTION
    2. Abbreviations
    3. EDITOR'S PREFACE
    4. METHOD AND AIM OF THIS MODERNIZATION
    5. SOURCES
    6. TREATMENT OF WORDS
    7. (i) RICHARD ROLLE
    8. RICHARD MISYN
    9. A TRANSLATION OF THE LEGENDA IN THE OFFICE PREPARED FOR THE BLESSED HERMIT RICHARD 
   10. Lection I. The saint of God, the hermit Richard, was born in the village of Thornton
   11. LECTION II. After having thus put on the habit of a hermit and left his parents
   12. LECTION III. Therefore, after mass, the aforesaid squire invited him to dinner
   13. LECTION IV. And when the aforesaid squire had examined him in private
   14. LECTION V. For in the aforesaid book he thus speaks: I marvelled more than I can say
   15. LECTION VI. Yet wonderful and beyond measure useful was the work of this saintly man in holy
   16. LECTION VII. But the more laboriously and effectively this blessed hermit
   17. LECTION VIII. Also this holy hermit, Richard, out of the abundance of his charity used to show
   18. LECTION IX. But yet, lest it should lie hidden from men -- especially from those who by
   19. The following prayers are from the Mass for the Saint.
   20. HERE BEGIN THE MIRACLES OF THE BLESSED HERMIT RICHARD. 
   21. LECTION I But after the passing of this saint, Richard, so dearly beloved by God
   22. LECTION II One day, therefore, while he was occupied with the aforesaid work of piety
   23. LECTION IV A certain woman called Joan being vexed with demons lost the use of speech
   24. ALL THE MIRACLES OF RICHARD:
   25. THE FIRE OF LOVE OR MELODY OF LOVE, AS TRANSLATED BY RICHARD MISYN IN 1435 A.D. FROM THE INCENDIUM AMORIS' BY RICHARD ROLLE OF HAMPOLE: AND NOW DONE INTO MODERN ENGLISH sPROLOGUE OF RICHARD MISYN
   26. PROLOGUE OF RICHARD ROLLE
   27. CHAPTER I OF MAN'S TURNING TO GOD; AND WHAT HELPS AND WHAT LETS HIS TURNING.
   28. CHAPTER II THAT NO MAN MAY SUDDENLY COME TO HIGH DEVOTION, NOR BE WET WITH THE SWEETNESS OF CONTEMPLATION
   29. CHAPTER III THAT ILK MAN CHOSEN OF GOD HAS HIS STATE ORDAINED
   30. CHAPTER IV THE DIFFERENCE BETWIXT GOD'S LOVERS AND THE WORLD'S: AND THEIR MEEDS
   31. CHAPTER V WHEREFORE IT IS BETTER TO TAKE ENTENT TO THE LOVE OF GOD THAN TO KNOWLEDGE OR DISPUTATION
   32. CHAPTER VI CONCERNING HERETICS: AND FAITH IN THE TRINITY
   33. CHAPTER VII THAT IN THE GODHEAD WE OUGHT NOT TO SAY THREE GODS OR THREE ESSENCES, AS WE SAY THREE PERSONS: AND THAT ILK MAN SHALL BE CALLED GREAT OR SMALL AFTER THE QUANTITY OF HIS LOVE
   34. CHAPTER VIII THAT THE PERFECT LOVER OF GOD HAD LIEVER RUN INTO GREAT PAIN THAN BY SIN ONCE GRIEVE GOD: AND WHY GOD TORMENTS THE RIGHTEOUS BY THE WICKED
   35. CHAPTER IX THAT GOD IS TO BE LOVED AND WORSHIPPED IN DISEASES: AND ALSO OF THE MIRTH AND MEEKNESS OF THE GOOD
   36. CHAPTER X THAT GOD'S LOVER FORSAKES THE WORLD, IDLENESS AND IRKSOMENESS: AND OF HYPOCRITES AND COVETOUS MEN
   37. CHAPTER XI THAT LOVERS OF GOD SHALL DEEM WITH HIM: AND OF THE LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE GOTTEN BY LABOUR, AND OF GOD: AND THAT A TRUE LOVER ERRS NOT, NOR IS BEGUILED NEITHER WITH FASTING NOR ABSTINENCE, COUNSEL NOR PRESUMPTION
   38. CHAPTER XII THAT NO MAN SHALL DEEM ANOTHER, BUT GIVE GOD PRAISE: AND OF EIGHT AFFECTIONS OF THE LOVE OF GOD: AND THAT WOMEN'S COMPANY BE ESCHEWED.
   39. CHAPTER XIII THAT SOLITARY OR HERMIT'S LIFE PASSES COMMON AND MIXED LIFE. AND HOW IT COMES TO FIRE OF LOVE: AND OF SWEETNESS OF SONG.
   40. CHAPTER XIV OF THE PRAISE OF SOLITARY LIFE AND OF THE FIRST LOVERS THEREOF: AND THAT LOVE OF GOD STANDS IN HEAT, SONG, AND SWEETNESS: AND THAT REST IS NEEDFUL: AND THAT SUCH ARE SAVED FROM DECEITS, AND ARE NOT SET IN PRELACY
   41. CHAPTER XV HOW AND IN WHAT TIME I CAME TO SOLITARY LIFE: AND OF THE SONG OF LOVE: AND OF CHANGING OF PLACE
   42. CHAPTER XVI THE PRAYER OF THE POOR, AND THE LOVING AND DESIRING TO DIE: AND OF THE PRAISING OF GOD'S CHARITY
   43. CHAPTER XVII HOW PERFECT LOVE IS GOTTEN BY CLEANNESS AND LOVE: AND OF IMPERFECT LOVE AND FAIRNESS, AND OF THREE MIGHTS OF GOD'S LOVE: AND OF THE RICH AND POOR: AND OF ALMS
   44. CHAPTER XVIII OF THE PRAISE AND MIGHT OF CHARITY: AND OF FORSAKING THE WORLD: AND OF THE WAY OF PENANCE TO BE TAKEN
   45. CHAPTER XIX OF FAIRNESS OF MIND: VANITY OF THE WORLD: LOVE OF GOD: AND UNION WITH OUR NEIGHBOUR: AND WHETHER PERFECT LOVE CAN BE LOST AND GOTTEN IN THIS WAY
   46. CHAPTER XX OF THE PROFIT AND WORTHINESS OF PRAYER AND MEDITATION
   47. CHAPTER XXI THAT CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE IS WORTHIER AND MEEDFULLER THAN ACTIVE: AND OF BOTH PRELACY AND PREACHING
   48. CHAPTER XXII THE BURNING OF LOVE PURGES VICES AND SINS: AND OF THE TOKENS OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP
   49. CHAPTER XXIII THAT PERFECT LOVE MINGLES NOTHING WITH GOD: AND WHY. AND THAT IT IS NEEDFUL TO LOVE: AND OF THE BLINDNESS OF FLESHLY LOVE
   50. CHAPTER XXIV OF THE STINK OF LECHERY AND THE PERIL OF TOUCHING: AND OF THE CURSEDNESS OF COVETOUSNESS: AND OF UNGODLY GLADNESS
   51. CHAPTER XXV OF PERFECT LOVE: AND WHAT MUST BE HAD FOR GHOSTLY JOY: AND OF LOVE AND CORRECTION
   52. CHAPTER XXVI OF THE SIGHINGS, DESIRE, AND MEEKNESS OF A PERFECT LOVER: AND OF THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WORLDLY LOVE AND GODLY: AND ALSO OF MEDITATION
   53. CHAPTER XXVII OF TRUE MEEKNESS AND ADVERSITY: AND OF THE EXAMPLE OF THE SAINTS: AND OF THE MANNER OF GHOSTLY PROFITING: AND OF THINKING ON CHRIST'S PASSION
   54. CHAPTER XXVIII THAT A TRUE LOVER DESPISES WORLDLY THINGS AND DESIRES HEAVENLY: AND OF THE HATING OF PRIDE, AND HALSING OF MEEKNESS
   55. CHAPTER XXIX THE TEACHING OF THE BOISTEROUS AND UNTAUGHT, DESIRING TO LOVE: AND OF THE ESCHEWING OF WOMEN
   56. CHAPTER XXX OF GOD'S PRIVY DOOM: AND THAT THEY THAT FALL AGAIN BE NOT DEEMED BY US: AND OF GREAT ARGUMENTS AGAINST PURCHASOURS
   57. CHAPTER I WHY THE PERFECT CONTEMPLATIVES TAKE NO HEED TO OUTWARD SONG, AND OF THEIR ERROR THAT REPROVE THEM: AND HOW TO PROFIT IN CONTEMPLATION
   58. CHAPTER II THE TEACHING OF CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE IN PRAYING, MEDITATING, FASTING, AND WAKING: AND OF THE PROUD CONTEMPLATIVE: AND OF TRUE AND VERY GHOSTLY SONG
   59. CHAPTER III THAT GHOSTLY SONG ACCORDS NOT WITH BODILY: AND THE CAUSE AND THE ERROR OF GAINSAYERS. AND OF KNOWLEDGE INSHED OR INSPIRED; AND HOW IT DIFFERS FROM KNOWLEDGE GOTTEN BY LABOUR
   60. CHAPTER IV OF THE EXCELLENCE OF GHOSTLY SONG: AND THAT IT NEITHER CAN BE SAID NOR WRITTEN, NOR RECEIVES ANY FELLOWSHIP: AND OF THE CHARITY OF SPIRITUAL SINGERS: AND THE PRIDE OF THEM THAT HAVE GOTTEN KNOWLEDGE
   61. CHAPTER V THE MEDITATION OF THE LOVER IN HIS LOVE: AND THE FORSAKING OF FELLOWSHIP: AND HOW IN ORDER IT COMES TO THE FLAME OF LOVE
   62. CHAPTER VI OF DIVERS GIFTS OF GOD'S CHOSEN: AND HOW SAINTS COME TO LOVE IN PRAYING, MEDITATING, LOVING, SUFFERING, ADVERSITY AND HATING VICE, AND THAT LOVE COMES FROM GOD AND THAT HIS LOVE IS NECESSARY, AND THAT TRUE LOVERS FALL NOT BY TEMPTATIONS OF THE 
   63. CHAPTER VII THAT A TRUE LOVER ONLY LOVES HIS BELOVED: AND OF DOUBLE RAVISHINGS, THAT IS TO SAY OUT OF THE BODY, AND OUT OF THE LIFTING OF THE MIND INTO GOD; AND OF THE WORTHINESS THEREOF
   64. CHAPTER VIII THE DESIRE OF A LOVER AFTER GOD IS SHOWN: AND THE CURSED LOVE OF THIS WORLD IS DECLARED BY MANY EXAMPLES: AND THAT THE MEMORY OF GOD ABIDES NOT IN LOVERS OF THE WORLD.
   65. CHAPTER IX OF DIVERS FRIENDSHIPS OF GOOD AND ILL, AND IF THEY CAN BE LOOSED: OF THE SCARCENESS OF FRIENDSHIP OF MEN AND WOMEN: AND OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP, AND HOW THE CHOSEN JOY IN IT IN THIS LIFE: AND OF THE FOLLY OF SOME THAT ABSTAIN TOO MICKLE, OR ARE NAKE
   66. CHAPTER X THAT GOD'S LOVE IS TO BE MINGLED WITH ILK TIME AND DEED NOR FAILS NOT FOR WEAL OR WOE, AND OF THE WORTHINESS AND THE GAINING THEREOF: AND OF TEARS TURNED TO SONG
   67. CHAPTER XI THAT PERFECT LOVE BINDS TO GOD WITHOUT LOOSING AND MAKES MAN MINDFUL OF HIS GOD; BUT LOVE OF THE WORLD FALLS TO NOUGHT. AND OF THE NATURE OF TRUE LOVE, STABLE AND AY-LASTING, SWEET, SOFT, AND PROFITABLE: AND OF FALSE LOVE; VENOMOUS, FOUL, AND U
   68. CHAPTER XII OF THE FELICITY AND SWEETNESS OF GOD'S LOVE: AND OF THE NIGHTINGALE'S SONG: AND PRAYER FOR PERSEVERANCE OF TRUE GHOSTLY SONG THAT WORLDLY LOVERS HAVE NOT
   69. CHAPTER I FIRST OF CONVERSION
   70. CHAPTER II OF THE DESPISING OF THE WORLD
   71. CHAPTER III OF POVERTY
   72. CHAPTER IV OF THE SETTING OF MAN'S LIFE
   73. CHAPTER V OF TRIBULATION
   74. CHAPTER VI OF PATIENCE
   75. CHAPTER VII OF PRAYER
   76. CHAPTER VIII OF MEDITATION
   77. CHAPTER IX OF READING
   78. CHAPTER X OF CLEANNESS OF MIND
   79. CHAPTER XI OF THE LOVE OF GOD
   80. CHAPTER XII OF CONTEMPLATION
   81. NOTES
   82. Prologue of Richard Rolle.
   83. THE FIRE OF LOVE--BOOK I
   84. BOOK II
   85. BIBLIOGRAPHY
   86. Glossary

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  CHAPTER 0: THE FIRE OF LOVE
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  CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION
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THE MYSTICISM OF RICHARD ROLLE BY EVELYN UNDERHILL The four great English
mystics of the fourteenth century -- Richard Rolle, Walter Hilton, Julian of
Norwich and the anonymous author of "The Cloud of Unknowing" -- though in
doctrine as in time they are closely related to one another, yet exhibit in
their surviving works strongly marked and deeply interesting diversities of
temperament. [1] Rolle, the romantic and impassioned hermit; his great
successor, that nameless contemplative, acute psychologist, and humorous critic
of manners, who wrote "The Cloud of Unknowing" and its companion works; Hilton,
the gentle and spiritual Canon of Throgmorton; and Julian, the exquisitely human
yet profoundly meditative anchoress, whose "Revelations of Divine Love" are
perhaps the finest flower of English religious literature -- these form a
singularly picturesque group in the history of European mysticism. Richard Rolle
of Hampole, the first of them in time, and often called with justice "The father
of English Mysticism," is in some aspects the most interesting and individual of
the four. Possessed of great literary power, and the author of numerous poems
and prose treatises, his strong influence may be felt in all the mystical and
ascetic writers who succeeded him; and some knowledge of his works is essential
to a proper understanding of the currents of religious thought in this country
during the two centuries which preceded the Reformation. Sometimes known as the
"English Bonaventura," he might have been named with far greater exactitude the
"English Francis": for his life and temperament -- though we dare not claim for
him the unmatched gaiety, sweetness, and spiritual beauty of his Italian
predecessor -- yet present many parallels with those of the "little poor man" of
Assisi. Both Francesco Bernadone and Richard Rolle were born romantics. Each
represents the revolt of the unsatisfied heart and intuitive mind of the natural
mystic from the comfortable, the prudent, and the commonplace: its tendency to
seek in the spiritual world the ultimate beauty and the ultimate love. Both saw
in poverty, simplicity, self-stripping, the only real freedom; in "carnal use
and wont" the only real servitude. Moreover, both were natural artists, who
found in music and poetry the fittest means of expression for their impassioned
and all-dominating love of God. Francis held that the servants of the Lord were
nothing else than His minstrels. He taught his friars to imitate the humility
and gladness of that holy little bird the lark; and when sweet melody of spirit
boiled up within him, would sing troubadour-like in French to the Lord Jesus
Christ. For Rolle, too, the glad and eager life of birds was a school of
Christian virtue. At the beginning of his conversion, he took as his model the
nightingale, which to song and melody all night is given, that she may please
him to whom she is joined. For him the life of contemplation was essentially a
musical state, and song, rightly understood, embraced every aspect of the soul's
communion with Reality. Sudden outbursts of lyrical speech and direct appeals to
musical imagery abound in his writings, as in those of no other mystic; and
perhaps constitute their outstanding literary characteristic. Further, both
these impassioned minnesingers of the Holy Ghost made the transition from the
comfortable life of normal men to the ardours and deprivations of the mystic way
at the same age, and with the same startling and dramatic thoroughness. They
share the same horror of property and possessions, "the I, the me, the mine." In
each, personal religion finds its focus in an intense and beautiful devotion to
the Name of Jesus. Francis was "drunken with the love and compassion of Christ."
"The mind of Jesu" was to Rolle "as melody of music at a feast." For each, love,
joy, and humility govern the attitude of the self to God. Each, too, adopted
substantially the same career: that of a roving lay-missionary, going, as Rolle
tells us in "The Fire of Love," from place to place, dependent upon charity for
food and lodging, and trying in the teeth of all obstacles to win other men to a
clearer view of Divine Reality a life surrendered to the will of God. Each knew
the support of a woman's friendship and sympathy. What St. Clare was to St.
Francis, that Margaret Kirkby the recluse of Anderby was to Rolle. Seeking only
spiritual things, both these mystics have yet left their mark upon the history
of literature. Rolle was a prolific writer in Latin and Middle English, in prose
and in verse, and his vernacular works occupy an important place in the
evolution of English as a literary tongue: whilst the Canticles of St. Francis
are amongst the earliest of Italian poems. True, Francis had the gayer, sunnier
and more social nature. Once the first, essential act of renunciation was
accomplished, he quickly gathered about him a group of disciples and lived in
their company by choice. Rolle, temperamentally more intense and ascetic, loved
solitude; and only in the lonely hermitage "from worldly business in mind and
body departed," does he seem to have achieved that detachment and singleness of
mind through which he entered into the fullness of his spiritual heritage. To
him Divine Love was "as it were a shameful lover, that his leman before men
embraces not": but "in the wilderness more clearly they meet," where "true
lovers accord, and merry solace of lovely touching is, unable to be told." Yet
the enormous influence which he exercised upon the religious life of the
fourteenth century, the definitely missionary character of many of his writings,
is a sufficient answer to those who would condemn him on these grounds as a
"selfish recluse." Francis upon La Verna, Rolle in his hermit's cell, were
caught up to the ultimate encounter of love: but each felt that such heavenly
communion was no end in itself, that it entailed obligations towards the race.
For both, contemplation and action, love and work, went ever hand in hand.
"Love," says Rolle, "cannot be lazy": and his life is there to endorse the truth
of those golden words. True contemplatives, he says again -- and we cannot doubt
that he here describes the ideal at which he aimed -- are like the topaz "in
which two colours are," one "pure as gold" and "t'other clear as heaven when it
is bright." "To gold they are like a passing heat of charity, and to heaven for
clearness of heavenly conversation": exhibiting, in fact, that balanced
character of active love to man and fruitive love to God -- the double movement
of the perfect soul -- which is the peculiar hallmark of true Christian
mysticism. As with St. Francis, so with Rolle, the craving for reality, the
passionate longing for fullness of life, did not at first turn to the religious
channel. The life of chivalry, the troubadour-spirit, first attracted Francis;
the life of intellect first attracted Rolle. Already noticed as a boy of unusual
ability, he had been sent to Oxford by the help of the Archdeacon of Durham. But
the achievement of manhood found him unsatisfied. He was already conscious of
some instinct within him which demanded as its objective a deeper Reality: of a
spiritual vocation which theological study alone could never fulfill. At the
crucial age of eighteen, when the genius for God so often asserts itself, St.
Francis definitely abjured all that he had seemed to love, and embraced Poverty
with a dramatic thoroughness; abandoning home, family, prospects, and stripping
off his very clothes in the public square of Assisi. At the same age Richard
Rolle, sacrificing his scholastic career -- and the high literary merit of his
writings shows us what that career might have been -- suddenly returned from
Oxford to the North, his soul "lifted from low things," his mind set on fire
with love for the austere and solitary life of contemplation. There, with that
impulse towards concrete heroic sacrifice, decisive symbolic action, which so
often appears in the childhood and youth of the mystical saints, he begged from
his sister two gowns, one white, one grey, together with his father's old
rain-hood; retired into the forest; and with these manufactured as best he might
a hermit's dress in which to "flee from the world." His family thought him mad:
the inevitable conclusion of the domestic mind in all ages, when confronted with
the violent other-worldliness of the emerging mystical consciousness. But Rolle
knew already that he obeyed a primal necessity of his nature: that singular
living, solitude, some escape from the torrent of use and wont, was imperative
for him if he were to fulfill his destiny and order his disordered loves. "No
marvel if I fled that that me confused . . . well I knew of Whom I look." The
way in which he realized this need may seem to us, like the self-stripping of
St. Francis, crude and naive: yet as an index of character, an augury of future
greatness, it must surely take precedence of that milder and more prudent change
of heart which involves no bodily discomforts. There is in both these stories
the same engaging mixture of singleminded response to an interior vocation,
boyish romanticism, and personal courage. Francis and Richard ran away to God,
as other lads have run away to sea: sure that their only happiness lay in total
self-giving to the one great adventure of life. It was primarily the life of
solitude which Rolle needed and sought, that his latent powers might have room
to grow. "Great liking I had in wilderness to sit, that I far from noise
sweetlier might sing, and with quickness of heart likingest praising I might
feel; the which doubtless of His gift I have taken, Whom above all thing
wonderfully I have loved." Yet the first result of his quest of loneliness was
the discovery of a friend. Going one evening to a church -- probably that of
Topcliffe near Thirsk -- and sitting down in the seat of Lady Dalton, he was
recognized by her sons, who had been his fellow-students at Oxford: with the
immediate result that their father, Sir John Dalton, impressed by his saintly
enthusiasm, gave him a hermit's cell and dress, and provided for his daily
needs, in order that he might devote himself without hindrance to the
contemplative life. Rolle has described in "The Fire of Love" -- which is, with
the possible exception of the Melum, the most autobiographical of his writings
-- something at least of the interior stages through which he now passed, in the
course of the purification and enlightenment of his soul. One of the most
subjective of the mystics, he is intensely interested in his own spiritual
adventures; and a strong personal element may be detected even in his most
didactic works. As with all who deliberately give themselves to the spiritual
life, his first period of growth was predominantly ascetic. With his fellow
mystics he underwent the trials and disciplines of the "purgative way": and for
this, complete separation from the world was essential. "The process truly if I
will show, solitary life behooves me preach." The essence of this purification,
as he describes it in the "Mending of Life," lies not so much in the endurance
of bodily austerities -- as in "Contrition of thought, and pulling out of
desires that belong not to loving or worship of God": -- self-simplification in
fact. The object of such a process is always the same: the purging of the will,
and unification of the whole life about the higher centres of humility and love;
the cutting out, as St. Catherine of Siena has it, of "the rooting of self-love
with the knife of self-hatred." In the old old language of Christian mysticism,
Rolle speaks of the action of Divine Love as a refiner's fire, "fiery making our
souls, and purging them from all degrees of sin, making them light and burning."
We gather from various references in the Incendium that the trials of this
purgation included in his own case not only interior contrition for past sin and
bodily penance. It also involved the contempt, if not the actual persecution of
other men, and the inimical attitude with "with wordys of bakbyttingis" of old
friends, who viewed his eccentric conduct with a natural and prudent disgust: a
form of suffering, intensely painful to his sensitive nature, which he
recognizes as specially valuable in its power of killing self-esteem, and
encouraging the mystical type of character, governed by true mortification and
total dependence on God. "This have I known, that the more men have tried with
words of backbiting against me, so muckle the more in ghostly profit I have
grown.". . . ."After the tempest, God sheds in brightness of holy desires." The
period of pain and struggle -- the difficult remaking of character -- lasted
from his conversion for about two years and eight months. It was brought to an
end, as with so many of the greater mystics, by an abrupt shifting of
consciousness to levels of peace and joy: a sudden and overwhelming revelation
of Spiritual Reality -- "the opening of the heavenly door, that Thy face
showed." Rolle than passed to that affirmative state of high illumination and
adoring love which he extols in the "Fire": the state which includes the three
degrees, or spiritual moods of Calor, Dulcor, Canor -- "Heat, Sweetness and
Song." At the end of a year, "the door biding open," he experienced the first of
these special graces: the Heat of Love Everlasting, or "Fire" which gave its
name to the Incendium Amoris. "I sat forsooth in a chapel and whilst with
sweetness of prayer or meditation muckle I was delighted, suddenly in me I felt
a merry heat and unknown." Now, when we ask ourselves what Rolle really meant by
this image of heat or fire, we stand at the beginning of a long quest. This is
one of those phrases, half metaphors, yet metaphors so apt that we might also
call them descriptions of experience, which are natural to mystical literature.
Immemorially old, yet eternally fresh, they appear again and again; nor need we
always attribute such reappearances to conscious borrowing. The fire of love is
a term which goes back at least to the fourth century of our era; it is used by
St. Macarius of Egypt to describe the action of the Divine Energy upon the soul
which it is leading to perfection. Its literary origins are of course scriptural
-- the fusion of the Johannine "God is love" with the fire imagery of the Hebrew
prophets. "Behold! the Lord will come with fire!" "His word was in my heart as a
burning fire." "He is like a refiner's fire." But, examining the passages in
which Rolle speaks of that "Heat" which the "Fire of Love" induced in his
purified and heavenward turning heart, we see that this denotes a sensual as
well as a spiritual experience. Those interior states or moods to which, by the
natural method of comparison that governs all descriptive speech, the self gives
such sense-names as these of "Heat, Sweetness, and Song," react in many mystics
upon the bodily state. Psycho-sensorial parallelisms are set up. The well-known
phenomenon of stigmatization, occurring in certain hypersensitive temperaments
as the result of deep meditation upon the Passion of Christ, is perhaps the best
clue by which we can come to understand how such a term as "the fire of love"
has attained a double significance for mystical psychology. It is first a poetic
metaphor of singular aptness; describing a spiritual state which is, as Rolle
says himself in "The Form of Perfect Living," "So burning and gladdening, that
he or she who is in this degree can as well feel the fire of love burning in
their soul as thou canst feel thy finger burn if thou puttest it in the fire."
Secondly, it represents, or may represent in certain temperaments, an induced
sense-automatism, which may vary from the slightest of suggestions to an intense
hallucination: as the equivalent automatic process which issues in "visions" or
"voices" may vary from that "sense of a presence" or consciousness of a message
received, which is the purest form in which our surface consciousness
objectivizes communion with God, to the vivid picture seen, the voice clearly
heard, by many visionaries and auditives.The "first state" of burning love to
which Rolle attained when his purification was at an end, does seem to have
produced in him such a psycho-physical hallucination. He makes it plain in the
prologue of the Incendium that he felt, in a physical sense, the spiritual fire,
truly, not imaginingly; as St. Teresa -- to take a well-known historical example
-- felt the transverberation of the seraph's spear which pierced her heart. This
form of automatism, though not perhaps very common, is well known in the history
of religious experience; and many ascetic writers discuss it. Thus in that
classic of spiritual common sense, "The Cloud of Unknowing," we find amongst the
many delusions which may beset "young presumptuous contemplatives," "Many quaint
heats and burnings in their bodily breasts" -- which may sometimes indeed be the
work of good angels (i.e., the physical reflection of true spiritual ardour) yet
should ever be had suspect, as possible devices of the devil. Again, Walter
Hilton includes in his list of mystical automatisms, and views with the same
suspicion, "sensible heat, as it were fire, glowing and warming the breast." In
the seventeenth century Augustine Baker, in his authoritative work on the prayer
of contemplation mentions "warmth about the heart" as one of the "sensible
graces," or physical sensations of religious origin, known to those who aspire
to union with God. In our own day, the Carmelite nun Soeur Thérèse de
l'Enfant-Jésus describes an experience in which she "felt herself suddenly
pierced by a dart of fire." "I cannot," she says, "explain this transport, nor
can any comparison express the intensity of this flame. It seemed to me that an
invisible force immersed me completely in fire." Allowing for the strong
probability that the form of Soeur Thérèse's transport was influenced by her
knowledge of the life of her great namesake, we have no grounds for doubting the
honesty of her report; the fact that she felt in a literal sense, though in a
way hard for less ardent temperaments to understand, the burning of the divine
fire. Her simple account -- glossing, as it were, the declarations of the
historian and the psychologist -- surely gives us a hint as to the way in which
we ought to read the statements of other mystics, concerning their knowledge of
the "fire of love."Rolle's second stage, to which he gives the name of
"sweetness", is easier of comprehension than the first. It represents the
natural movement of consciousness from passion to peace, from initiation to
possession, as the contemplative learns to live and move in this new atmosphere
of Reality: the exquisite joy which characterizes one phase of the soul's
communion with God. He calls it a "heavenly savour"; a "sweet mystery"; a
"marvellous honey." "With great labor it is got; but with joy untold it is
possessed." It is of such sweetness that the author of "The Cloud of Unknowing"
-- that stern critic of all those so called mystical experiences which come in
by the windows of the wits -- writes in terms which almost seem to be inspired
by a personal experience."Sometimes He will inflame the body of devout servants
of His here in this life: not once or twice, but peradventure right oft and as
Him liketh, with full wonderful sweetness and comforts. Of the which, some be
not coming from without into the body by the windows of our wits, but from
within; rising and springing of abundance of ghostly gladness, and of true
devotion in the spirit. Such a comfort and such a sweetness shall not be had
suspect: and shortly to say, I trow that he that feeleth it may not have it
suspect." That intimate and joyful apprehension of the supersensuous which Rolle
calls "sweetness" is not rigidly separated either from the burning ardour which
preceded it, or the "third" state of exultant harmony, of adoring contemplation
-- prayer pouring itself forth in wild yet measured loveliness -- which he calls
"song"; and which is the most characteristic form of his communion with the
Divine Love. All three, in fact, as we see in the beautiful eighth chapter of
"The Form of Perfect Living," are fluctuating expressions of the "Third Degree
of Love, highest and most wondrous to win." They co-exist in the soul which has
attained to it: now one and now the other taking command. "The soul that is in
the third degree is all burning fire, and like the nightingale that loves song
and melody, and fails for great love: so that the soul is only comforted in
praising and loving God . . . and this manner of song have none unless they be
in the third degree of love: to the which degree it is impossible to come, but
in a great multitude of love."This true lover, he says again in the Incendium,
"has sweetness, heat and ghostly song, of which before I have oft touched, and
by this he serves God, and Him loving without parting to Him draws . . .
Sometime certain more he feels of heat and sweetness, and with difficulty he
sings, sometime truly with great sweetness and busyness he is ravished, when
heat is felt the less; oft also into ghostly song with great mirth he flees and
passes, and also he knows the heat and sweetness of love with him are.
Nevertheless heat is never without sweetness, although sometime it be without
ghostly song."Rolle's own first experience of this state of song, like the
oncoming of the "Fire," seems to have had a marked psycho-sensorial character.
His passion of love and praise translated itself into the "Song of Angels"; and
the celestial melody was first heard by him with the outward as well as with the
inward ear. "In the night before supper, as I mine Salves I sung, as it were the
noise of readers or rather singers about me I beheld. Whilst also praying to
heaven with all desire I took heed, on what manner I wot not suddenly in me
noise of song I felt; and likingest heavenly melody I took, with me dwelling in
mind."We gather from the writings of other mystics of the medieval period that
such an experience was a well understood accompaniment of the contemplative
life. Like the "burning of the fire" it was one amongst those "sensible
comforts" -- or, as we should now say, automatisms -- which were never accepted
at their face value as certain marks of divine favour, but were studied and
analyzed with the robust common sense that characterizes true spirituality.
Walter Hilton, in a tract on the "Song of Angels" which is certainly inspired
by, and was long attributed to Rolle himself, says of it: "When the soul is
lifted and ravished out of the sensuality, and out of mind of any earthly
things, then in great fervour of love and light (if our Lord vouchsafe) the soul
may hear and feel heavenly sound, made by the presence of angels in loving of
God . . . Methinketh that there may no soul feel verily angel's song nor
heavenly sound, but he be in perfect charity; though all that are in perfect
charity have not felt it, but only that soul that is so purified in the fire of
love that all earthly savour is brent out of it, and all mean letting between
the soul and the cleanness of angels is broken and put away from it. Then
soothly may he sing a new song, and soothly he may hear a blest heavenly sound,
and angel's song without deceit or feigning."Such "Song" -- where it really
represents the soul's consciousness of supernal harmonies, and is not merely the
hallucination of one who "by indiscreet travailing turneth the brains in his
head" so that "for feebleness of the brain, him thinketh that he heareth
wonderful sounds and songs" -- does for the temperament which inclines to
translate its intuitions into music, that which the experience of vision does
for those whose apprehensions of reality more easily crystallize into a
pictorial form. One seems to see, another seems to hear, that Perfect Beauty
which is the source and inspiration of all our fragmentary arts. For Rolle, by
nature a poet and a musician, the language of music possessed a special
attraction and appropriateness: and not only its language but its practice too.
Like Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Genoa, Teresa, Rose of Lima, and many other
saints, he was driven to lyrical and musical expression by his own rapture of
love and joy. "Oh Good Jesu! my heart Thou hast bound in thought of Thy Name,
and now I cannot but sing it."All mystics are potential poets. Rolle was an
actual poet too. Hence by the Canor, which was the third form by which his
rapture of love was expressed, we must understand not only the "Celestial
Melody" in which he participated in ecstatic moments, not only those exultant
moods of "great plenty of inward joy" when the spiritual song "swelled to his
mouth" and he sang his prayers "with a ghostly symphony," as St. Catherine of
Genoa "sang all day for joy"; but also the genuine poetic inspiration to which
his writings give ample testimony. All these are varying expressions of one life
and one love: for the great mystic, living in contact with Eternity, is seldom
careful to note the exact boundary which marks off "inward" from "outward" or
earth from heaven. To Rolle, contemplation was the song of the soul: song was
contemplation expressed. Some, he observes in "The Mending of Life," think that
contemplation is the knowledge of deep mysteries: others that it is the state of
total concentration on spiritual things: others again that it is an elevation of
mind which makes the self dead to all fleshy desires. All these no doubt are
true in their measure: but "to me it seems that contemplation is joyful song of
God's love." It is love and joy "with great voice out-breaking" as the ascending
spirit stretches towards the Only Fair. Rolle's mysticism is fundamentally of
the "outgoing" type. He seldom uses the language of introversion, or speaks of
God as found within the heart; but pictures the soul's quest of Reality as a
journey, a flight from self, an encounter "in the wilderness" with Love. "Love
truly suffers not a loving soul to bide in itself, but ravishes it out to the
lover, that the soul is more there where it loves, than where the body is that
lives and feels it." When the Canor seizes him, his spirit seems to rush forth
on the wings of its own music, that "music that to me is come by burning love,
in which I sing before Jesu": for indeed his "song", whether silent melody or
articulate, is love in action; the glad and humble passion of adoration taking
poetic form. We see then at last that Heat, Sweetness, and Song are each and all
names for, and psycho-physical expressions of, one thing -- that many-coloured,
many-graded miracle of Love which is the substance of all mysticism, and alone
has power to catch man into the divine atmosphere, initiate him into the
friendship of God. "O dear Charity . . . Thou enterest boldly the bedchamber of
the King Everlasting: thou only art not ashamed Christ to take. He it is that
thou hast sought and loved. Christ is thine: hold Him, for He may not but take
thee, to whom thou only desirest to obey."Here we find, fused together, the
highest flights of mystical passion for the Ineffable God, and the intense
devotion to the Person of Christ: the special quality which marked all that was
best in English religion of the medieval period. In such passages -- and his
works abound in them -- Rolle sets the pattern to which all the great English
mystics who followed him conformed. Were we asked, indeed, to state their
peculiar characteristic, I think that we must find it here: in the combination
of loftiest transcendentalism with the loving and intimate worship of the Holy
Name. Thus it is that they solve the eternal mystic paradox of an unconditioned
yet a personal God. "The Scale of Perfection," "The Cloud of Unknowing," "The
Revelations of Divine Love," all turn on this point: and those who discount
their strongly Christian and personal quality, gravely misunderstand the nature
of the vision by which their writers were inspired.Of the two works of Richard
Rolle which Miss Comper here presents in a modernized form, "The Fire of Love"
represents his subjective manner -- "The Mending of Life" an attempt towards the
orderly presentation of his ascetic doctrine. The whole system of his teaching,
in so far as a system was possible to so poetic and "inspired" a temperament,
aims at the induction of other men to that state in which they can fulfill the
supreme vocation of humanity: take part in "angels' song," the music of
adoration which all created spirits sing to God. He knows that the "ghostly
song" of highest contemplation is a special gift, a grace shed into the soul,
and does not hesitate to proclaim his own peculiar possession of it: yet he is
sure that the heavenly melodies may be evoked, in a certain measure, in all who
are surrendered to divine love. The method by which he would educate the soul to
the point at which it can participate in the life of Reality, is that method of
asceticism -- profound contrition, mortification and prayer -- which he has
followed himself: here conforming to the doctrine of the three great masters of
the spiritual life whose writings had influenced him most, St. Bernard, Richard
of St. Victor, and St. Bonaventura. Though he often seems in his more didactic
works to echo the teaching of these doctors, and in some passages repeats their
very words -- as for instance in his description of the Three Degrees of Love,
and in his doctrine of Ecstasy -- yet all that he says has been actualized by
him in his own personal experience. His most "dogmatic" utterances burn with
passion: he uses the maps of his great predecessors because he has tested them
and found them true. It is commonly said that the Incendium Amoris -- that most
personal and unconventional of works -- is an imitation of St. Bonaventura's
Stimulus Amoris. Apart from the fact that the Stimulus Amoris is no longer
accepted as an authentic work of St. Bonaventura, but was probably composed by
James of Milan, the two books -- as any may see who take the trouble to compare
them -- have hardly a character in common. True, both are largely concerned with
the Love of God; but so are all the works of Christian mysticism. The subjective
element which occupies so large a place in the Incendium is wholly absent from
the Stimulus. There we find no autobiography, rather an orderly didactic
treatise, miles asunder from the Yorkshire hermit's fervid rhapsodies. The
Incendium is not an artificial composition, but a work of original genius. It is
the rhapsody and confession of a "God-intoxicated" poet, who longed to tell his
love, yet knew that all his powers of expression could not communicate one
little point of the vision and the ecstasy to which he had been raised: "Would
God of that melody a man I might find author, the which though not in word, yet
in writing my joy he should sing."Passionate feeling taking artistic form: this
perhaps is the ruling character of all Rolle's mystical writings. He has been
accused of laying undue emphasis upon emotional experience. Yet a stern system
of ethics -- as we may see from his life as well as from his works -- underlies
this exultant participation in the music of the spheres. Though some may be
repelled by his love of that solitude in which heart speaks to heart, or amused
by his quaint praise of the virtues of "sitting" -- the attitude which he found
most conductive to contemplation -- surely none can fail to be impressed by the
heroic self-denials, the devoted missionary labours, which ran side by side with
this intense interior life. His love was essentially dynamic; it invaded and
transmuted all departments of his nature, and impelled him as well to acts of
service as to songs of joy. He was no spiritual egotist, no mere seeker for
transcendental satisfaction; but one of those for whom the divine goodness and
beauty are coupled together in insoluble union, even as "the souls of the lover
and the loved." NOTE: My quotations from "The Fire of Love" and "The Mending of
Life" are made direct from Richard Misyn's fifteenth century English
translation, as printed by the Early English Text Society: save only for
modernization of the spelling. They may not therefore agree in all particulars
with Miss Comper's version. I have used Miss Geraldine Hodgson's edition of "The
Form of Perfect Living" (1910); my own of "The Cloud of Unknowing" (1912), and
the text of "The Song of Angels" which is printed from Pepwell by Mr. Edmund
Gardner in "The Cell of Self-knowledge" (New Medieval Library, 1910).


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  CHAPTER 2: ABBREVIATIONS
========================================================================

A. Ms. Add.37790 Brit. Mus. Bg. La Bigne's Maxima Biblioteca Patrum. C. Corpus
Christi Coll. MS.236 Oxfd. D. Douce MS.322 Bod. E.E.T.S. Early English Text
Society. L. MS. Dd.5.64 Camb. M.E. Middle English. O.E.D. Oxford English
Dictionary. Sp. Speculum Spiritualium.


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  CHAPTER 3: EDITOR'S PREFACE
========================================================================

Of mysticism, as of all the greatest things in life, the characteristic notes
are sincerity and simplicity. Its nature and birth are better felt by the heart
than uttered by the tongue. Therefore the increasing interest in mysticism,
evidenced by the multiplication of books, essays, criticism, and correspondence
on the subject, is rather to be dreaded than welcomed by the mystic. For
mysticism like love is shy as the wild bird. Criticism destroys it; discussion
frightens it away. Doubtless it can live in the heart of every man; only that
heart must be pure, and free from anxiety and worldly love; since to the
Christian mysticism is nothing else that that love which is the sole definition
of God that man can comprehend. He that has found the secret of this love, which
possesses alike the world of nature and of man, has found the secret of the
mystic. For it is not a respecter of persons, nor reserved for the few. The old
woman sitting over her peat fire, the shepherd upon the lonely hills, the
workman breaking stones by the roadside, even the "great divine lapped in
infinite questions" or the anchoress in her cell; all indeed who are "more busy
to know God than many things," have glimpses of this secret. And it was for
those who would rather know God's love than know about it that this book was
written so long ago. For six centuries the dust of oblivion has hidden Richard
Rolle from our knowledge. True, his name was known as the author of a long
Northern poem called the Prick of Conscience, but it has lately been proved
that, whatever else he may have written, this most certainly he did not write.
[2] Of him and of the other English mystics of his time, we knew but little. As
we may have stood by and watched a statue, modeled by some sculptor dead these
many hundred years, being slowly and carefully unearthed in a villa garden near
Rome, so now we look on with interest as scholars, mostly of other nations than
our own, are laboriously restoring to us the mystical writings of these
Englishmen, long ago dead, and now for the most part nameless. Yet Richard
Rolle, the first of these great mystics, had revealed himself to us in his
writings. Race counts for much in character, and in reading his books we can
never forget that he comes of the sturdy stock of Yorkshiremen. Honest, somewhat
blunt and plainspoken, especially in regard to women, and full of common sense,
it is the more remarkable that he should in so many ways recall to us the sweet
singer of Assisi. And yet, as Miss Underhill has shown us, he joins hands across
the century with the poet of love and poverty who preached to the birds under
the ilex-tree at the Carceri; while from another point of view he has kinship
with the monk of Windesheim, the words of whose Ecclesiastical Music are
constantly recalled to our minds by this other Melody of Love. As we read it we
find that the problems which confronted Richard in his hermit's cell at Hampole
are the same as confront the thoughtful man today. He is distressed by the
friendlessness, rather than the poverty, of the poor; the oppression and
worldliness of the rich; the wrong and selfish acquisition of land; the utter
destructiveness of sin; the hypocrisy and backbiting of those who "fill the
kirks." Then, as now, men desired to escape from the transient to the eternal;
from the overwhelming power of the material to the spiritual; from the turmoil
and confusion of strange ideas and social upheaval and crying injustice, to the
rest and peace to be found in humility and brotherly love. As in the old emblem
of the two crossed pieces of wood bearing the wayfarer safely over the stormy
sea, the love of God laid athwart the love of man bears the soul safely over the
waves of this life. And this love is the sum and substance of Rolle's mysticism.
We find in his writings few definitions or classifications, which are so
frequent in many mystical works; for it was as impossible for him as for Saint
Francis -- who in his life was the greatest exponent of mysticism that the world
has ever seen -- to lay down rules regarding love. The love of child and parent,
of young man and maid, with all the deeds of heroism and sacrifice which such
love has engendered, are but as pale symbols of the love which has given birth
to the ancient literature of mysticism. This love is as a fire or a raging
flame. "It verily inflames the mind," says Richard; "Love sets my heart on
fire," sings Francis. To most this love comes only as the reward of long search
and striving. It is a quest on which a man may start out in company, but he must
end alone -- with God: and in proportion as we attain to it we find the solution
of many problems, the secret of life, and the key to the "mysteries of the
Kingdom."


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  CHAPTER 4: METHOD AND AIM OF THIS MODERNIZATION
========================================================================

This book is not meant for the scholar. For him Rolle's own versions are
accessible in numerous MSS.; and Misyn's Middle English translation has been
printed by the Early English Text Society. [3] But there are many who find in
Misyn's curious spellings and constructions a serious obstacle to the sense, and
it is for such that this edition has been prepared. My aim has been to make
Rolle's meaning clear to the modern reader with as little alteration of Misyn's
text as possible. I have modernized the spelling, have simplified long and
involved constructions, and have tried to elucidate the meaning by careful
punctuation. But I have dealt very sparingly with the vocabulary, keeping as
many of the old words as seemed likely to be understood, and especially those
which still linger in Scottish dialect, as being a reminder to the reader of the
Northern origin of the book. Where the text appears to be corrupt and emendation
has been necessary, I have used for this purpose, for The Fire of Love the
Cambridge MS. Dd.5.64 (which I call L), and for The Mending of Life the printed
editions; comparing them with the MSS. referred to in the notes at the end of
this book, where I have given the Latin and Middle English originals. A short
passage [4] has been omitted as unsuited for modern readers; and, on the other
hand, where obvious omissions occur in Misyn's text, they have been supplied
from the MSS. mentioned. When I have altered an obsolete word I give such, the
first time it occurs, in a foot note. Any words of difficult meaning will be
found in the Glossary, and I have in this case also added a footnote on their
first occurrence in the text. Other points I have gone more fully into under the
section Treatment of Words. It has been, and very probably may again be
contended, that a better result would have been obtained by translating straight
from the original. This would in many ways have been easier, but the insuperable
objection to such a course lies in the fact that the Latin MSS. of these works
of Rolle have not yet been collated; and no satisfactory translation can be made
until we have discovered which is Rolle's autograph. Moreover there is a certain
charm in this early translation of Misyn's which no modern one, however
excellent, could reproduce. Rolle died in 1349, but the Office for his
canonization was not prepared until 1381, and still later the Miracula were
collected. His memory must have remained fresh in men's minds; indeed this is
born out by the fact that so many extant copies of his works date from the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The influence of his spirit was still a
living one; and this translation has embodied and preserved for us the simple
faith and enthusiastic love of the generation for which it was written. Read and
meditated upon by English men and women of long ago although it has been lost to
sight nearly five hundred years it deals with a theme that is ever fresh. It
will be an interesting experiment to see whether it can yet appeal to us --
whether a genuine English book of piety can hold its own with those of other
nations. In my modernization I am aware that I have laid myself open to
criticism in many directions. I have not striven after consistency, but have
tried solely to retain as far as possible the simplicity and charm of the
original translation. Misyn has been called a slavish translator; certainly he
has not avoided the faults of his master. Repetitions, especially of words and
phrases, are even more constant in this version than in the original, while some
of the forms and spelling he employs make the modernizer's task by no means an
easy one. Dr. Horstman, in his interesting preface to the collection of the
English writings of Richard Rolle, after laying stress upon his originality and
lyric gift, thus sums up his defects: "His defects lie on the side of method and
discrimination; he is weak in argumentation, in developing and arranging his
ideas. His sense of beauty is natural rather than acquired, and his mind is too
restless to perfect his writings properly. His form is not sufficiently refined,
and full of irregularities; his taste not unquestionable; his style frequently
difficult, rambling, full of veiled allusions -- much depends on the punctuation
to make it intelligible; his Latin incorrect and not at all classic -- . . . But
all this cannot detract from his great qualities as a writer, the originality
and depth of his thought, the truth and tenderness of his feeling, the vigour
and eloquence of his prose, the grace and beauty of his verse; and everywhere we
detect the marks of a great personality, a personality at once powerful, tender
and strange, the like of which was perhaps never seen again." [5] This criticism
is perhaps a little severe for a part of Rolle's charm lies in his restlessness
of thought. His mind moved rapidly, and he loved to play with a word. His
writings are full of antitheses and balance and rhythm -- in this respect
anticipating Lily [6] -- which Misyn's translation well reproduces. If to us his
repetitions appear wearisome and monotonous, we must at least remember that they
were written not to be read as a continuous whole, but aloud, in chapter or
refectory; for one copy had probably to do service for the community. I have
therefore aimed at reproducing Misyn's translation with all its irregularities,
only endeavouring to make his meaning clear. My method of doing so will be more
fully explained in the following section.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 5: SOURCES
========================================================================

The Fire of Love and The Mending of Life were first printed by the Early English
Text Society, in 1896 from the Corpus Christi College MS.236, at Oxford. At that
time it was the only MS. known of Misyn's translation, but four years ago, at
Lord Amherst's sale, the British Museum bought an English MS. of the fifteenth
century, known as Add. MS.37790, containing several very important mystical
treatises, [7] and among them these two translations by Misyn. This I have
collated with the Corpus MS. (which I call C), and have noted any important
differences in the text as they occur. They are very few and are mostly confined
to spelling; the Amherst MS. showing the influence of a Southern scribe. [8]
From the doubling of vowels and consonants in such words as bee, wee, off, nott,
ffor, etc., and the writing of th for p, one would infer that the Amherst is
probably of rather later date than the Corpus MS. In this latter The Fire of
Love precedes The Mending of Life, although the explicits give 1434 as the date
of the translation of The Mending of Life, and 1435 for The Fire of Love; but in
the Amherst MS. they are given in their correct chronological order. I have,
however, kept to the order of the Corpus MS., since The Fire of Love is by far
the longer and more important of the two works. The editor of the Corpus MS. for
the Early English Text Society draws attention to the fact that the explicit to
the second book of The Fire of Love contains the statement that it was
translated by Richard Misyn, with the addition of these words, "per dictum
fratrem Richardum Misyn scriptum et correctum." [9] This was by some too easily
considered a proof that we have here Misyn's autograph; but judging from the
wrong chronological order Mr. Harvey concludes that this is not the case. It is
therefore worth noting that the explicit in the Amherst MS. is word for word the
same as in the Corpus MS., which fact, added to the probability of its later
date, makes it unlikely that here either we have Misyn's autograph. It is more
probable that both were copies of the autograph -- the Corpus being the work of
a more Northern scribe than the Amherst -- and that neither copyist exercised
sufficient discretion to omit Misyn's personal note. At present the question of
the Rolle canon is most confused and uncertain. Scholars [10] are working at it,
and it is to be hoped the autograph of both Rolle and Misyn will soon be
discovered. In the meantime the only possible course open to me was to choose
the best available Latin MS. with which to compare Misyn's translation whenever
difficulties arose. For the Incendium I have taken a Cambridge MS. (Dd.5.64,
referred to as L). For the De Emendatione it has been less simple, because
several printed versions exist of this work, all differing considerably. Misyn
sometimes seems to follow one and sometimes another, showing clearly that he is
translating from neither of these versions; and in the MSS. to which I have had
access the variants are as numerous. For this reason I have been very chary of
suggesting any emendations in my version of this work. Obvious omissions I have
supplied from another early translation in the Bodleian (Douce MS.322, which I
call D). It seems to be of much the same date as Misyn's, if anything rather
later. It is not Northern, and is on the whole a freer translation and has more
attempt after style; whereas Misyn's rendering is rather bald, being often very
little more than a gloss on the Latin. I have, however, followed Misyn, since we
owe to him the longer and more important work of Rolle which this volume
contains. [11] I owe some apology to the reader for the notes, which may seem
too numerous for a popular edition; but the difficulties and obscurities in the
text have called for emendations and explanations which have necessitated rather
full notes. I have been careful to place these at the end, so that they who use
this book as it was intended by the author to be used need not be distracted by
them. The portrait of Rolle in the frontispiece is taken from a Cotton MS.
(Faust. B. VI.2.) in the British Museum of a Northern poem called the Desert of
Religion. The authorship of this poem is unknown, although it has usually been
ascribed to Walter Hilton. It describes the trees which grow in the wilderness,
or desert, of religion. These symbolical trees are drawn on the first side of
each page; the reverse side is divided into two columns, the one containing the
poem itself, while on the other some saint of the desert is depicted. On the
first side of the page containing this picture of Richard the Hermit there is a
rude drawing of a tree, with six leaves on either side, representing the twelve
abuses that grow among religions. They are as follows: A prelate negligent: A
discipil inobediente. A youngman idill: Ane alde mane obstinate. A mownke
cowrtioure: A mounke pletoure. Ane habite preciouse: Mete daintinouse. New
tithandes in clostere: Strivynge in the chapitour. Dissolucioun in the qwere:
Irreverence aboute the auter. In the picture the hermit is represented seated on
the grass in a white habit, with the sacred monogram in gold on his breast, and
holding a book in his left hand. On either side is a stiffly drawn tree. Above,
resting on clouds, are three angels bearing a scroll with the words: Sanctus,
sanctus, sanctus; Dominus Deus Sabaoth; pleni sunt celi et terra gloria tua.
Round the picture the following verse is written: A solitari here: hermite life
i lede, For ihesu loue so dere: all flescli lufe i flede; Pat gastli comforthe
clere; that in my breast brede, Might me a thowsande yeere: in heuenly strengthe
haue stedd There is no evidence that this picture is a genuine portrait. It
recalls some early portraits of Saint Francis. The hair is light in colour, and
cut evenly round the head, and the beard divided into two small points. The
saint's face is not emaciated, but of a clear complexion with a touch of red
upon the cheeks. Both the other manuscripts of The Desert of Religion contain
pictures of Richard Hermit, but since none are known to be authentic, I have
chosen this which seems the most interesting.


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  CHAPTER 6: TREATMENT OF WORDS
========================================================================

Personally I should have preferred to retain all the words which Misyn employs,
in the hope that some would find their way back into our too much latinized
English; but I feared to outweary the patience of the reader. The following is a
list of those which I have altered in the text, with their nearest modern
equivalents. addling to earning aseth satisfaction bolnes puffs up chinche miser
fagiar, faged flatterer, flattered fliting reproof forthink repent foyd pledge
groching grumbling groundly from the root inhiry inward or inner lat behave
large generous leman beloved loving, lufing praise menged, melled mingled ugg
abhor undirlowt overcome unneth scarcely sam together scrithe glide sparples
scatter tityst soonest wode, wodeness mad, madness well to wither I have kept
words which are of common occurrence in the Bible and Prayer Book, and those
still in use in Scotland. There are, however, some words which remain in modern
English but which have altered or restricted their meaning. Such are very apt to
mislead the modern reader. I have, therefore, treated them freely, retaining
them when in a modern sense or when their meaning is quite apparent, but
changing them if the meaning is at all ambiguous. I append here a full list of
these, to avoid the multiplication of footnotes. Misyn often uses "withouten"
for "without," for the sake of rhythm, and in this I have followed him; nor have
I taken upon myself to suppress his constant repetition of "truly," "forsooth,"
"doubtless," "certain," "sickerly." Sometimes these translate the Latin vero,
valde, certe, etc., but more often than not stand for an ordinary conjunction,
such as enim, namque, autem. O.E.D. against a word in the footnote signifies
that the actual word or phrase found in Misyn is quoted in the Oxford English
Dictionary. Where the meaning is obscure I have altered: against to towards
avoid make void barely utterly beholding contemplating, or considering busily
continually charge care, consider cherish allure deadly, deadliness mortal,
mortality drawn to cleave (L. adhaerere) emonge in the meantime herefore hence
honily honeyed, honey-sweet ill evil kind nature, essence lasts perseveres
liking delight, pleasure lovely lovable longs languishes lust pleasure manner
measure mind memory namely especially plainly entirely, altogether (L. penitus)
rots, unable to rot corrupts, incorruptible softly little by little, slowly
soundly with sweet sound, songful stands continues swells inflates show declare
taken received taught imbued thinking meditating, or meditation use enjoy,
exercise wanting lacking wherefore whence withhold hold to, retain worship
honour wretchedness wickedness


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  CHAPTER 7: (I) RICHARD ROLLE
========================================================================

It is interesting to remember that B. Richard H. of Hampole was among the names
included in the prospectus which Newman drew up for The Lives of the English
Saints. He tells us in a note to the Apologia [12] , that "He has included in
the series a few eminent or holy persons, who, though not in the Sacred
Catalogue, are recommended to our religious memory by their fame, learning, or
the benefits they have conferred on posterity." Unfortunately Rolle shared the
fate of the hundred and eighty-three whose lives were never written.Various
short biographies of Richard Rolle have appeared recently appended to editions
of his works, the most complete of which are those of Dr. Horstman and the Rev.
H. R. Bramley. These are drawn from the Legenda or Lections, given in the
special Office, which the nuns of Hampole prepared in the hope of his
canonization. This did not take place because of the unsettled state of the
church, due to the rise of Lollardry, although, from the note prefixed to it,
the Office seems to have been used privately. The Miracula were included in it,
and were arranged to be read as Lections during the octave of the Feast.Since
the Legenda are the source of our knowledge of Rolle's life, and are largely
drawn from his own writings, and more especially from the Incendium Amoris, it
has seemed well to give them in full. I have translated them from the collation
of the three MSS. published by the Surtees Society. They form the nine lections,
to be read at Matins on the Feast Day of the saint.The nuns, to whom Richard
ministered and with whom he died, belonged to a well-known Cistercian House at
Hampole. [13] Nothing now remains of the convent, but the Rev. R. H. Benson
gives the following interesting description of the place. "Hampole is still a
tiny hamlet, about seven miles distant from Doncaster. There has never been a
parish church there, and in Richard's time the spiritual needs of the people
would no doubt be met by the convent chapel. Of the nunnery there are now no
certain traces, except where a few mounds in the meadows by the stream below the
hamlet mark its foundations, and beyond a few of its stones built into the
school house. The few grey stone houses nestle together on the steep slope in a
shallow nook in the hill, round an open space where the old village spring still
runs. There is no trace of Richard's cell; but, in spit of the railway line in
the valley, the place has a curious detached air, lying, as it does, a complete
and self-contained whole, below the Doncaster road, fringed and shadowed by
trees, and bordered with low-lying meadows rich, in early summer, with daisies
and buttercups, and dotted with numerous may trees; the farthest horizon from
the hamlet is not more than a mile or two away."


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  CHAPTER 8: RICHARD MISYN
========================================================================

The only fact we are certain of in regard to Richard Misyn is that he was the
translator of the two treatises of Rolle which this volume contains. In the
explicit to Book II of The Fire of Love we are told that he was then Prior of
Lincoln and belonged to the Order of the Carmelites, 'per fratrem Ricardum
Misyn, sacre theologie bachalaureum, tunc Priorem Lyncolniensem, ordinis
carmelitarum'; but in the previous explicit to Book I he is mentioned only as a
hermit belonging to the order, 'per fratrem Ricardum Misyn heremitam and ordinis
carmelitarum Ac sacre theologie bachalaureum.' Rolle had died eighty-six years
before, in 1349, but two of his miracles are dated and are as late as 1381 and
1383, so there is little reason to doubt that his name was very familiar to this
other Richard, who also styled himself a hermit, and who, as far as we can
gather, was of the same country. There are scanty records of a Richard Mysyn, a
Carmelite and Suffragan, who is thought to be identical with Bishop Mesin or
Musin of Dromore; for at that time to have a see in Ireland did not necessarily
mean to reside there. This Frater Ric. Mysyn, Suffragenus, ordinis Fratrum
Carmelitarium, is put first in the Register of the Corpus Christi Guild of York,
under the date 1461-1462, and was admitted to the Guild by Dom. J. Burton,
Rector of the Church of S. Martin in the Mickelgate, York. Bishop Musun's name
also occurs in the legend round the famous cup preserved in the vestry of York
Minister, and known as the Scrope Indulgence Cup. This inscription runs:
Recharde arche beschope Scrope grantes on to all tho that drinkis of this cope
xl dayis to pardun. Robert Gubsun. Beschope Musin grantes in same forme afore
saide xl dayis to pardun. Robert Strensall.' In the Carmelite records preserved
in a manuscript in the British Museum, the death is noted of a Richard Mesin,
Bishop of Dromore, under the year 1462, who was buried with the other Fathers of
the order in their monastery at York, i.e., in the same year as Richard Mysyn
was admitted a member of the Corpus Christi Guild. But at present it must remain
a matter merely of conjecture if these references relate to the Richard Misyn to
whom we owe our translation. It now only remains for me to thank all those who
have helped me by their kind advice and interest. I should like here to record
my especial gratitude to Miss Evelyn Underhill, who read a part of my MS., and
to whose kindly aid and suggestions I am much indebted; to Father Cuthbert,
O.S.F.C., who helped me over many difficulties in the Latin text; to Father
Congreve, S.S.J.E., for his unfailing sympathy and help; and to Miss Corrie
Prior who read the proofs with me. I also owe a very especial debt of gratitude
to Professor H. J. C. Grierson, not only for his kindness in overlooking my
preface, but also because anything I may have learnt of the beauty and
inspiration of literature is due to his teaching. And there are many others I am
not allowed to name, but for whose assistance I am none the less grateful. By a
curious coincidence I find that I am writing the last words of my preface on the
eve of the day set apart in the English Martyrology for the commemoration of
Blessed Richard, Confessor and Eremite. May we not take it for a sign that he is
still present with us in spirit, and as desirous of helping us today by his
spiritual books and treatises, and -- may we not add -- by his prayers, as when
he ministered to the nuns at Hampole, or repaired to his cell to sing psalms and
hymns in honour of God. [14]


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 9: A TRANSLATION OF THE LEGENDA IN THE OFFICE PREPARED FOR THE BLESSED HERMIT RICHARD 
========================================================================

The office of Saint Richard, hermit, after he shall be canonized by the Church,
because in the meantime it is not allowed to sing the canonical hours for him in
public, nor to solemnize his feast. Nevertheless, having evidence of the extreme
sanctity of his life, we may venerate him and in our private devotions seeks his
intercessions, and commend ourselves to his prayers.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 10: LECTION I. THE SAINT OF GOD, THE HERMIT RICHARD, WAS BORN IN THE VILLAGE OF THORNTON
========================================================================

The saint of God, the hermit Richard, was born in the village of Thornton, near
Pickering, in the diocese of York, and in due time, by the efforts of his
parents, he was sent to be educated. When he was of adult age Master Thomas
Neville, at one time Archdeacon of Durham, honourable maintained him in the
University of Oxford, where he made great progress in study. He desired rather
to be more fully and perfectly instructed in the theological doctrine of Holy
Scripture than in physics or the study of secular knowledge. At length, in his
nineteenth year, considering that the time of mortal life is uncertain and its
end greatly to be dreaded (especially by those who either give themselves to
fleshly lusts or only labour that they may acquire riches, and who, for these
things, devote themselves to guile and deceit, yet they deceive themselves most
of all), by God's inspiration he took thought betimes for himself, being mindful
of his latter end, lest he should be caught in the snares of sinners. Hence,
after he had returned from Oxford to his father's house, he said one day to his
sister, who loved him with tender affection: My beloved sister, thou hast two
tunics which I greatly covert, one white and the other grey. Therefore I ask
thee if thou wilt kindly give them to me, and bring them me tomorrow to the wood
near by, together with my father's rain hood.' She agreed willingly, and the
next day, according to her promise, carried them to the said wood, being quite
ignorant of what was in her brother's mind. And when he had received them he
straightway cut off the sleeves from the grey tunic and the buttons from the
white, and as best he could he fitted the sleeves to the white tunic, so that
they might in some manner be suited to his purpose. Then he took off his own
clothes with which he was clad and put on his sister's white tunic next his
skin, but the grey, with the sleeves cut out, he put on over it, and put his
arms through the holes which had been cut; and he covered his head with the rain
hood aforesaid, so that thus in some measure, as far as was then in his power,
he might present a certain likeness to a hermit. But when his sister saw this
she was astounded and cried: My brother is mad! My brother is mad!' Whereupon he
drove her from him with threats, and fled himself at once without delay, lest he
should be seized by his friends and acquaintances.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 11: LECTION II. AFTER HAVING THUS PUT ON THE HABIT OF A HERMIT AND LEFT HIS PARENTS
========================================================================

After having thus put on the habit of a hermit and left his parents, he went to
a certain church on the vigil of the Assumption of the most Blessed Virgin,
Mother of God, and therein he set himself to pray, in the place where the wife
of a certain worthy squire, named John de Dalton, was wont to pray. And when she
entered the church to hear vespers, the servants of the squire's house wished to
remove him from their lady's place. But she from humility would not permit them,
lest he should be disturbed in his devotions. But when vespers were over, the
sons of the said squire, who were scholars and had studied in the University of
Oxford, noticed him as he rose from prayer, and said that he was the son of
William Rolle, whom they had known at Oxford. Then, on the day of the aforesaid
feast of the Assumption he again entered the same church; and without bidding
from any one, he put on a surplice and sang matins and the office of mass with
the others. And when the gospel had been read in the mass, having first besought
the blessing of the priest, he went into the preacher's pulpit and gave the
people a sermon of wonderful edification, insomuch that the multitude which
heard it was so moved by his preaching that they could not refrain from tears;
and they all said that they had never before heard a sermon of such virtue and
power. And small wonder, since he was a special instrument of the Holy Spirit,
and spoke with the very breath of Him whose it is, as saith the apostle to the
Romans, to divide to every man severally as He will, and to make intercession
for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 12: LECTION III. THEREFORE, AFTER MASS, THE AFORESAID SQUIRE INVITED HIM TO DINNER
========================================================================

Therefore, after mass, the aforesaid squire invited him to dinner, but when he
entered his manor he betook himself to a certain mean and old room; for he would
not enter the hall, but sought rather to fulfill the teaching of the gospel,
which says, When thou art invited to a wedding, sit down in the lowest room;
that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher;'
and this too was fulfilled in him. For when the squire had sought for him
diligently, and at last found him in the aforesaid room, he set him above his
own sons at the table. But he kept such perfect silence at dinner that not a
word proceeded from his mouth. And when he had eaten enough he rose, before the
table was removed, and prepared to depart. But the squire who had invited him
said that this was not customary, and so prevailed upon him to sit down again.
When the meal was over he again wished to depart, but the squire, seeking to
have some private talk with him, detained him until all who were in the room had
gone, when he asked him if he were the son of William Rolle. Then he rather
unwillingly and with reluctance answered: Perchance I am'; since he feared that
if he were recognized the plan on which his mind was set would be hindered. For
this squire loved his father as a friend with warm affection. But Richard --
newly made a hermit without his father's knowledge and against his wish -- had
taken this estate upon him because he loved God more than his earthly father.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 13: LECTION IV. AND WHEN THE AFORESAID SQUIRE HAD EXAMINED HIM IN PRIVATE
========================================================================

And when the aforesaid squire had examined him in private, and convinced himself
by perfect evidence of the sanctity of his purpose, he, at his own expense, clad
him according to his wish, with clothing suitable for a hermit; and kept him for
a long time in his own house, giving him a place for his solitary abode and
providing him with food and all the necessities of life. Then he began with all
diligence, by day and night, to seek how to perfect his life, and to take every
opportunity he could to advance in contemplative life and to be fervent in
divine love. And to what excellent perfection he at length attained in this art
of fervent love for God he himself records, not for boastfulness nor to seek
vainglory, but rather after the example of the glorious and humble apostle Paul,
who, narrating his rapture to the third heaven, where he heard secrets which are
not lawful for a man to utter, also avows the greatness of the revelations made
to him by God, and openly exalts his own labours above the labours of all the
other apostles. All which things he wrote in his epistles for the profit and
edification of others, and left them for others to read. So too this holy
hermit, Richard, in chapter one of his first book of The Fire of Love, tells to
what high and sweet delights he attained by contemplation, so that others may
obtain hope of advancing likewise in acts of contemplation and of love for God,
if only watchfully, constantly, and perseveringly they persist in those works
which are ordained for the attainment of this most desirable state of
perfection, and hate and cut off as poison all impediments to contemplation.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 14: LECTION V. FOR IN THE AFORESAID BOOK HE THUS SPEAKS: I MARVELLED MORE THAN I CAN SAY
========================================================================

For in the aforesaid book he thus speaks: I marvelled more than I can say when I
first felt my heart grow warm and burn, truly, not in imagination but as it were
with sensible fire. I was indeed amazed at that flame which burst forth within
me; and at this unwonted comfort -- because of my inexperience of this abundance
-- I have often felt my breast to see if perchance this heat was due to some
outward cause. But when I knew that this fire of love had blazed forth only from
within, and was not of the flesh but a gift of my Maker, I was full of joy and
dissolved in a desire for yet greater love; and chiefly because of the inflowing
of this most sweet delight and internal sweetness which, with this spiritual
burning, bedewed my mind to the core. For I had not thought before that such
sweet heat and comfort might come to pass in this exile. See then by these words
how far he had advanced in attaining the most sweet love of God; but, because
there are many steps preparatory to the kindling of this love -- as, for
example, those things which diminish and remove the loves opposed to it --
therefore this saint wore down the lusts of the flesh; to the love of which many
are borne off by a mad and bestial impulse. He spurned the world too with its
riches, being content with only the bare necessaries of life, that he might more
freely enjoy the delights of true love. For these reasons, therefore, he
mortified his flesh with many fasts, with frequent vigils, and repeated sobs and
sighings, quitting all soft bedding, and having a hard bench for a bed, and for
a house a small cell; fixing his mind always on heaven, and desiring to depart
and be with Christ, his most sweet Beloved.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 15: LECTION VI. YET WONDERFUL AND BEYOND MEASURE USEFUL WAS THE WORK OF THIS SAINTLY MAN IN HOLY
========================================================================

Yet wonderful and beyond measure useful was the work of this saintly man in holy
exhortations, whereby he converted many to God, and in his sweet writings, both
treatises and little books composed for the edification of his neighbours, which
all sound like sweetest music in the hearts of the devout. And amongst other
things it seems worthy of great wonder that once, when he was seated in his cell
(one day, after dinner) the lady of the house came to him, and many other
persons with her, and found him writing very quickly. And they besought him to
leave off writing and speak a word of edification to them, which he immediately
did, exhorting them most eloquently to virtue and to renounce worldly vanities
and stablish the love of God in their hearts. Yet in no way on account of this
did he cease from writing for two hours without interruption, but continued to
write as quickly as before, which could in no wise have been possible unless the
Holy Spirit had at that time directed both his hand and tongue; especially as
the occupations were discrepant one from another, and the spoken words differed
utterly in meaning from those which he wrote. The saint also was sometimes so
absorbed in spirit while he prayed that once, when his cloak with which he was
clad was taken from him, he did not feel it; and when, after patching and
stitching it, they replaced it on him he did not notice it.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 16: LECTION VII. BUT THE MORE LABORIOUSLY AND EFFECTIVELY THIS BLESSED HERMIT
========================================================================

But the more laboriously and effectively this blessed hermit, Richard, studied
to acquire perfect holiness of life, so much the more cunningly the devil -- the
enemy of the human race -- sought to entangle him by deceitful snares. So, as
appears from a writing in the saint's own hand found after his death in a small
volume of his works, the devil, in the form of a certain woman, tried to subvert
him with the cords of illicit desire. Thus in the aforesaid book he says: When I
had perceived my especial vocation, and laying aside my worldly dress had
determined to serve God rather than man, it befell that on a certain night in
the beginning of my conversion there appeared to me, while resting on my bed, a
very beautiful young woman, whom I had seen before and who loved me -- in
honourable love -- not a little. And when I looked on her and was marvelling why
she had come to me in solitude and at night, suddenly, without delay or speech,
she placed herself beside me. When I felt this, fearing lest she should entice
me to evil, I said I would arise and, with the sign of the cross, invoke the
blessing of the Holy Trinity upon us. But she held me so strongly that I could
neither speak nor move my hand. Whereupon I perceived that not a woman, but the
devil in the form of a woman, was tempting me. So I turned me to God, and when I
had said in my mind: "O Jesu, how precious is Thy blood!" and made the sign of
the cross on my breast with my finger, which had now begun in some measure to be
capable of movement, behold, suddenly all disappeared, and I gave thanks to God
who had delivered me. From that time therefore I sought to love Jesus, and the
more I advanced in His love the sweeter and more pleasant did the Name of Jesus
savour to me; and even to this day it has not left me. Therefore blessed by the
Name of Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 17: LECTION VIII. ALSO THIS HOLY HERMIT, RICHARD, OUT OF THE ABUNDANCE OF HIS CHARITY USED TO SHOW
========================================================================

Also this holy hermit, Richard, out of the abundance of his charity used to show
himself very friendly to recluses and to those who were in need of spiritual
consolation, and who suffered disquiet and vexation in soul or body through the
malignant work of evil spirits. God granted him singular grace in helping those
who were troubled in that way. And thus it once happened that when a certain
lady was drawing nigh to death -- in whose manor Richard had a cell (but a long
way off from the family), where he was wont to live alone, and give himself to
contemplation -- a great multitude of horrible demons came to the room where the
lady lay. It was little wonder, therefore, that when she saw them visibly she
fell into great fear and trembling. Her attendants sprinkled holy water in the
room and made devout prayers; nevertheless, the demons departed not, but still
continued to vex her greatly. At length, by the wise and discreet advice of her
friends, the blessed Richard was called to the room, so that, if possible, he
might bring the said lady the aid of comfort and peace. And when he had come to
her consolation, and had admonished her holily, and had urged her to place all
her hope in the superabundant mercy of God and in His overflowing grace, he then
set himself to pray God with a fervent heart that He would take from her the
fearsome sight of the demons. And the Lord heard him instantly, and at the
prayer of His beloved Richard was pleased to put all that terrible troop to
flight. Yet as they fled they left behind them astounding traces of their
passage; for all the bystanders saw that in that rush-strewn floor of the room
where the demons had passed the rushes seemed to be burned and reduced to black
ashes, and in these ashes there were marks impressed like the hoof prints of
oxen. But when the demons had lost the prey which they had sought in that place,
they tried to take vengeance on Richard, who had put them to flight.
Accordingly, they went forthwith to his cell and disturbed him so much that for
the time they made the place unfitted for his contemplation. But the saint of
God, being stedfast in his faith, fled repeatedly for refuge to the sanctuary of
prayer, and by his entreaties once more prevailed with the Lord to put them to
flight. And, to the comfort of the aforesaid lady's friends, he told them that
she was saved, and that after quitting this life she would be a joint-heir in
the kingdom of heaven. After this the saint of God, Richard, betook himself to
other parts, doubtless through the providence of God so that dwelling in many
places he might benefit many unto salvation, and sometimes also that he might
escape impediment to contemplation, as we read in the book of the Lives of the
Fathers that many of the most holy fathers in the desert used to do. For
frequent change of place does not always come from inconstancy; as in the
accusation of certain who are given to quick and perverse judgment of their
neighbours, but whose crooked interpretations and habits of detraction ought not
to make a sensible person neglect those things which he has found by experience
to be good and conducive to virtue. For in the canon and decrees of the Church
many causes sometimes are assigned for which change of place may be made; of
which the first is when pressure of persecution makes a place dangerous;
secondly, when some local difficulties exist; and thirdly, when the saints are
harassed by the society of evil men. When, therefore, this holy man, for urgent
and most practical reasons had betaken himself to dwell in Richmondshire, it
befell the Lady Margaret, who had once been a recluse at Auderby in the diocese
of York, on the very day of the Lord's Supper was so overcome by a grave attack
of illness that for thirteen days continuously she was utterly deprived of the
power of speech. Moreover, it caused her such pains and prickings in her body
that she could not rest in any position. Now a certain goodman of that town,
knowing that the holy hermit Richard loved her with a perfect affection of
charity -- since he was wont to instruct her in the art of loving God, and to
direct her, by his holy teaching, how to order her life -- quickly hastened on
horseback to the hermit, who was then living twelve miles from the dwelling of
the recluse, and besought him to come to her with all speed and bring her
consolation in her great need. And when he came to the recluse he found her
unable to speak and troubled with very grievous pains. And as he sat by the
window of her dwelling and they were eating together, it befell at the end of
the meal that the recluse desired to sleep; and so, oppressed by sleep, she
drooped her head at the window where Richard, the saint of God, reclined; and
after she had slept thus for a short time, leaning slightly upon Richard,
suddenly a violent convulsion seized her in her sleep with fearful vehemence, so
that it seems as if she wished to break the window of her house. And being still
in this most terrible convulsion, she awoke from sleep, and the power of speech
being granted her, with great devotion she burst forth with these words: Gloria
tibi Domine,' and blessed Richard finished the verse which she had begun,
saying: Qui natus es de Virgine,' with the rest which follows in the compline
hymn. Then he said to her: Now thy speech is restored to thee, use it as a woman
whose speech is for good.' A little while after, when she was again eating at
the aforesaid window, in exactly the same way as before, after dinner she fell
asleep, and leaning upon the saint aforesaid, the same convulsions returned, and
she became, as it were, mad, and was shaken by extraordinary and violent
movements. But when the holy Richard was trying to hold her with his hands, lest
she should rend herself or strive in any way to injure the house, she suddenly
slipped from them, and in her fall was shaken out of sleep and thoroughly
wakened. Then Richard said to her: Truly I thought that even if thou hadst been
the devil I should still have held thee; nevertheless, I give thee this word of
comfort, that as long as I shall remain in this mortal life thou shalt never
again suffer the torment of this illness.' None the less, when the courses of
several years had passed, the same illness -- except that she had her tongue
free for speech -- returned to her. Therefore the recluse sent for the goodman
aforesaid, and asked him to hasten quickly on horseback to the house of the nuns
at Hampole -- which place was far distant from her own dwelling -- where the
said Richard at that time led a solitary life, and to see what had befallen him.
For she doubted not that he had passed from this world, because she knew that he
was faithful to his promise; and he had promised her that as long as he lived in
the flesh she should never again suffer such torment. So the said man came to
Hampole, and he learnt that the saint was dead to this world; and after
diligently inquiring the hour of his passing, he found that the aforesaid
illness had returned to the recluse shortly after the hour of Richard's
departure. But afterwards the recluse betook herself to Hampole where the holy
body of the said hermit was given burial; and never afterwards was she afflicted
with the suffering of this horrible illness.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 18: LECTION IX. BUT YET, LEST IT SHOULD LIE HIDDEN FROM MEN -- ESPECIALLY FROM THOSE WHO BY
========================================================================

But yet, lest it should lie hidden from men -- especially from those who by
devout and diligent study are instant towards the attainment of the perfect life
-- how and by what means that blessed zealot of God, the hermit Richard, reached
the stage of perfect love and charity, as far as is allowed in mortal life, so
that all other love became mean and worthless for him and begat a dreadful
horror: be it known, therefore, that he himself, in his first book concerning
the Fire of Love, chapter thirteen, speaks thus: In process of time,' he says,
great increase of spiritual joys was given me. For there passed three years --
all but three or four months -- from the beginning of the change of my life and
mind to the opening of the heavenly door, so that, with unveiled face, through
the eyes of the heart, the soul might contemplate the heavenly beings, and see
by what way to seek her Beloved and pant after Him. Then, the door remaining
open, nearly a year passed before the heat of eternal love was verily felt in my
heart. I was sitting, forsooth, in a certain chapel, and, while I was finding
great delight in the sweetness of prayer or meditation, suddenly I felt within
me an unwonted and pleasant heat. And though at first I wavered, doubting for a
long time whence it might be, I became convinced that it was not from the
creature but from the Creator, because I found it grow more warm and pleasant.
But when half a year, three months and some weeks had passed by -- during which
that warmth of surpassing sweetness continued with me -- there was borne in on
my perception a heavenly spiritual sound, which pertains to the song of
everlasting praise and the sweetness of the invisible melody. Invisible I call
it because it can be neither known nor heard except by him to whom it is
vouchsafed; and he must first be purified and separated from the world. For
while I was sitting in the same chapel, and chanting psalms at night before
supper, as I could, I heard as it were the tinkling music of stringed
instruments, or rather of singers, over my head. And while my whole heart and
all my desires were engrossed in prayer and heavenly things, suddenly, I know
not how, I felt within a symphony of song, and I overheard a most delightful
heavenly harmony, which remained in my mind. For straightway, while I meditated,
my thought was turned into melody of song, and for meditation I, as it were,
sang songs. And that music voiced itself even in my prayers and psalmody; and by
reason of the interior sweetness which was outpoured upon me, I was impelled to
sing what before I had only said. Not publicly, forsooth, for I did it only
before God the Creator. Those who saw me knew it not, lest if they had known
they might have honoured me above measure; and thus I might have lost part of
that most fair flower, and might have fallen into desolation. Meanwhile wonder
seized me that I had been chosen for such great joy while I was in exile,
because God had then given me gifts which I knew not to ask, nor thought that
even the most holy could receive such in this life. Therefore I trow that these
are not given for merit, but freely, to whomsoever Christ will. Nevertheless I
think no man shall receive them, unless he especially love the Name of Jesus and
honour it so greatly that he never lets It from his mind except in sleep. He to
whom it is given to do this may, I think, attain that also. Whence, from the
beginning of my conversion even to the highest degree of the love of Christ to
which, by the gift of God, I was able to reach -- and in which state I
proclaimed the praise of God with joyous songs -- I remained for four years and
about three months. For this state, when once the previous states are conformed
to it, remains unto the end; nay, it will be more perfect after death, because
here the joy of love and charity begins and in the heavenly kingdom shall
receive its glorious consummation.'


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 19: THE FOLLOWING PRAYERS ARE FROM THE MASS FOR THE SAINT.
========================================================================

SECRET O Lord, we beseech thee that these our oblations may, through the holy
intercession of the blessed hermit, Richard, be accepted by Thee; that by their
virtue we may be protected from all dangers, and may be strengthened in the love
of Thy Name ever more and more. Through our Lord. POSTCOMMUNION We beseech Thee,
Almighty God, that by the prayers of the blessed hermit, Richard, we, Thy
servants, refreshed by the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Thy Son Jesu
Christ, may ever receive that most precious food to our salvation; and so be
inwardly nourished by the most sweet charity and peace which that sacrifice
represents. Through the same our Lord.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 20: HERE BEGIN THE MIRACLES OF THE BLESSED HERMIT RICHARD. 
========================================================================

To be read during the Octave of the Feast (The following extracts are from the
Sunday Lesson.)


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  CHAPTER 21: LECTION I BUT AFTER THE PASSING OF THIS SAINT, RICHARD, SO DEARLY BELOVED BY GOD
========================================================================

But after the passing of this saint, Richard, so dearly beloved by God, God did
not desist from showing forth to men his sanctity and glory by wonderful
miracles. For example, in a town near to the dwelling of the nuns of Hampole
there was a certain householder called Roger, who on the night of the Feast of
the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and on the two following
nights, in his dreams saw the blessed hermit Richard come to him, and he
conversed with him about many things. Afterwards, for six nights together, he
appeared to him when he was wide awake, and taught him plainly about many secret
things, and inflamed him with the love of God and with a spirit of holy
devotion. Therefore he made up his mind that he would at once honour the saint
with grateful acts of reverence; and he believed that he could please him
especially by bringing stones, with his own labour and that of his beasts, to
build his tomb in the church of the nuns of Hampole, where now his body is
buried.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 22: LECTION II ONE DAY, THEREFORE, WHILE HE WAS OCCUPIED WITH THE AFORESAID WORK OF PIETY
========================================================================

One day, therefore, while he was occupied with the aforesaid work of piety, and
had got ready twelve oxen for drawing, it happened that when he had reached the
gate of the churchyard at Hampole carrying great stones, his poor beasts by an
unhappy accident turned aside from the path, and the cart collided with the
side-post of the gate and cast the said stones with great force upon Roger
himself. Yet he was in no wise hurt by this, nor felt any shaking or pain of
body; and though his foot was very tightly jammed by the stones, he was able to
get it out without injury to foot or leg. And, indeed, that this miracle should
not be forgotten, one of those stones was set up at the gate of the churchyard,
so that those coming that way might see it; and another is placed on the tomb of
the saint. Thus, as long as he lived, this saintly man was wholly on fire with
divine love, seeking nothing except that he might please Jesus Christ, his most
sweet Beloved; and any who would offer him faithful service, and by devout
prayers make him his mediator and intercessor with the same Jesus Christ, has a
most powerful argument from this history. And if he be not in himself an
obstacle, he will obtain his wholesome purpose.


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  CHAPTER 23: LECTION IV A CERTAIN WOMAN CALLED JOAN BEING VEXED WITH DEMONS LOST THE USE OF SPEECH
========================================================================

A certain woman called Joan being vexed with demons lost the use of speech, and
her bodily strength was so reduced and exhausted that every one that saw her
thought she must die. But one day the blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God,
appeared to her in most beautiful white garments, drawing near to her and
leading the blessed hermit Richard by the hand. And he, seeing the demons
cruelly vexing the woman, placed himself between them and her and made them
depart. Then the blessed Richard put a ring on the woman's finger as a token of
the miracle and his saving help. When he had done this, at once the woman ceased
to feel the vexation of the demons; and recovered the use of her speech and was
healed of all her infirmities.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 24: ALL THE MIRACLES OF RICHARD:
========================================================================

Preserved Roger from accident while engaged in building the saint's tomb. John:
wounded by an enemy, is raised from apparent death by prayer and the placing of
money on his body, as an offering to the saint. Joan: Demoniac: cured by
intervention of B.V.M. and the saint, who places a ring on her finger. Woman:
the saint appears to a paralyzed woman and restores her, bidding her tell her
neighbours. Thomas: bedridden: hearing in the night a voice bidding him to send
a candle of 1 1/2 lbs. to be burnt before the image of the B.V.M. at Hampole,
Thomas does so by his wife and family; and being alone in the house the saint
appears to him and, asking where the pain is, touches the spot and heals him.
Son of Isabella: boy drowned by falling into a well. A passing pilgrim tells
them to visit the hermit's tomb at Hampole. They do so, and pay a denarius at
the tomb and the child is restored to life. Hugh: falls into a well; is revived
by his mother's vow to offer a candle of the length of her dead son at the
saint's tomb. William: bitten by a snake and thought to be dead; but restored by
a vow to make a pilgrimage to the saint's tomb. This miracle is confirmed on
oath. John: Crippled in arms and legs: restored by promise of yearly pilgrimage
to the saint's tomb. Isabella: deaf for seven years: cured by praying at the
saint's tomb. Beatrice: dumb for six days: cured by praying at the tomb. Julia:
demoniac and dumb for twelve days: falls asleep at the saint's tomb, and Richard
and the B.V.M. appear in a vision and tell her to ask the priest to whom she
will confess her sins, and she will be healed in mind and body. She narrates
that the brightness of the vision nearly blinded her.John: deaf for ten years;
cured by praying at the saint's tomb.Woman: also deaf; cured at the saint's
tomb.Alice: dumb from S. Katherine's Day to Easter: cured by praying at the
saint's tomb.John: insane: led to the tomb by his friends and there cured.Agnes:
insane for three months. Her friends offer a wax candle, measured to her height,
at the saint's tomb, and she is immediately restored to her senses.Isabella:
blind of one eye for twenty years: makes a pilgrimage to the tomb and is
cured.Agnes: deaf for three years: restored at the tomb.Robert: totally blind
for three years: hears a voice bidding him go to the hermit's tomb, and,
obeying, is cured.Boy of 5: choked by an apple for three days and thought to be
dead: revived by a denarius placed on his head as an offering to the saint.Boy
of 4: bad ulcer in the child's mouth prevented his feeding. By wise counsel a
denarius is laid upon his head, and the ulcer vanishes and the child can
suck.Joan: fell into a mill pool: rescued after an hour, and revived by prayer
and being measured for a candle.Woman: deaf for two years: makes a pilgrimage to
the saint's tomb and is cured on the spot.John: deaf for a long time: is cured
by the merits and prayers of the saint.Woman: her child is still-born and she is
thought to be dead: restored by being measured for a candle to the
saint.Isabella: the child falls asleep upon a heap of straw and is smothered by
it. When found is thought to be dead, but restored to life on being measured for
a candle.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 25: THE FIRE OF LOVE OR MELODY OF LOVE, AS TRANSLATED BY RICHARD MISYN IN 1435 A.D. FROM THE INCENDIUM AMORIS' BY RICHARD ROLLE OF HAMPOLE: AND NOW DONE INTO MODERN ENGLISH SPROLOGUE OF RICHARD MISYN
========================================================================

For the honour of our Lord Jesu Christ, at the asking of thy desire, Sister
Margaret, coveting [16] to make satisfaction, and for increase also of ghostly
comfort, to thee and more, that understand not curiosity [17] of Latin, I, among
lettered men simplest and in living unthriftiest, have taken this work to
translate from Latin into English for the edification of many souls. And since
it is so that all good pleasure and ghostly life of man's soul stands in perfect
love, therefore this holy man, Richard Hampole, has named his book Incendium
Amoris, that is to say "The Fire of Love." The which book I think to change
neither in meaning nor substance, but truly to write it in good exposition after
mine understanding. Therefore I pray all readers hereof, if your discretion find
aught thankworthy, to God give the praise thereof and to this holy man; and if
any thing be mis-said, to my ignorance ascribe it. Nevertheless I make
protestation to reform, with intent to write or say nothing against the faith or
determination of holy kirk, God being witness. Furthermore, sister, have in mind
the mortality of this life, and always in thy hand some holy lesson keep. For if
thou keepest holiness thou shalt not love fleshly sins; and holiness, wherein it
stands, I said before, in perfect love. But perfect love, what may that be?
Certain, when thy God, as thou oughtest, for Himself thou lovest; thy friend in
God; and thine enemy thou lovest for God. For neither God without thy neighbour,
nor thy neighbour without God, is truly loved. Perfect love therefore stands in
love of God and of thy neighbour; and love of God in keeping of His
commandments. Keep, therefore, His commandments, and when thou enterest thy
prayers or contemplation, all worldly things altogether forsake; forget the care
of all outward things, and to God only take heed. If thou find any doubts call
to thee sad [18] counsel, for dread thou arrest; especially in such things as
touch the twelve articles of thy faith; also of the Holy Trinity, and divers
others as in this holy book following is wisely written to our learning.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 26: PROLOGUE OF RICHARD ROLLE
========================================================================

More have I marvelled than I showed when, forsooth, I first felt my heart wax
warm, truly, and not in imagination, but as if it were burned with sensible
fire. I was forsooth amazed as the burning in my soul burst up, and of an unwont
solace; ofttimes, because of my ignorance of such healthful abundance, I have
groped my breast seeking whether this burning were from any bodily cause
outwardly. But when I knew that it was only kindled inwardly from a ghostly
cause, and that this burning was nought of fleshly love or concupiscence, in
this I conceived it was the gift of my Maker. Gladly therefore I am molten into
the desire of greater delight and ghostly sweetness; the which, with that
ghostly flame, has pithily [19] comforted my mind. First truly before this
comfortable heat, and sweetest in all devotion, was shed in me, I plainly trowed
such heat could happen to no man in this exile: for truly so it enflames the
soul as if the element of fire were burning there. Nevertheless, as some say,
there are some, burning in the love of Christ, because they see them despising
this world, and with busyness given only to the service of God. But as it were
if thy finger were put into the fire it should be clad with sensible burning,
so, as beforesaid, the soul set afire with love, truly feels most very heat; but
sometimes more and more intense, and sometimes less, as the frailty of the flesh
suffers. O who is there in mortal body that all this life may suffer this great
heat in its high degree, or may bear for long its continual existence? Truly it
behoves him fail for sweetness and greatness of desire after so high an outward
love; and no marvel though many, passing out of this world, full greedily would
catch it and yearn after it with full hot desire; so that unto this honey-sweet
flame with wonderful gifts of mind he might yield his soul, and so be taken, and
forthwith enter the companies of them that sing praises to their Creator
withouten end. But some things happen contrary to charity; for filth of the
flesh creeps up tempting restful minds; bodily need also and the frail
affections of man, imprinted with the anguish of this wretched exile, sometimes
lessen this heat, and the flame which under a figure I called fire, because it
burns and lightens, they hinder and heavy. [20] And yet truly they take not
fully away that which may not be taken away, for it has umbelapped [21] all my
heart. But this most happy heat, sometimes absent on account of such things,
appears again; and I, as it were abiding grievously cold, think myself desolate
until the time it come again, whiles I have not, as I was wont, that feeling of
ghostly fire which applies itself gladly to all parts of the body and soul, and
in the which they know themselves secure. And, moreover, sleep gainstands me as
an enemy; for no time heavies me to lose save that in which, constrained, I
yield to sleeping. Waking truly I am busy to warm my soul, thirled [22] as it
were with cold, the which, when settled in devotion, I know well is set on fire,
and with full great desire is lifted above all earthly things. Truly affluence
of this everlasting love comes not to me in idleness, nor might I feel this
ghostly heat while I was weary bodily for travel, or truly unmannerly [23]
occupied with worldly mirth, or else given without measure to disputation; but I
have felt myself truly in such things wax cold, until, putting aback all things
in which I might outwardly be occupied, I have striven to be only in the sight
of my Saviour and to dwell in full inward burning. Wherefore I offer this book
to be seen: not to philosophers nor wise men of this world, nor to great divines
lapped in infinite questions, but unto the boisterous [24] and untaught, more
busy to learn to love God than to know many things; for truly not disputing but
working is to be known and loved. For I trow these things here contained may not
be understood of these questionaries; in all science most high in wisdom but in
the love of God most low. Therefore to them I have not written, except, all
things forgetting and putting aback that are longing to this world, they love to
be given only to the desires of our Maker. First truly they must flee all
earthly dignity, and hate all pride of knowledge and vainglory, and at the last,
conforming themselves to highest poverty, meditating and praying, they be
constantly given to the love of God. Thus no marvel the fire within of unwrought
charity shall appear to them; and dressing their hearts to receive the heat with
which all darkness is consumed, it will lift them up into that most lovely and
merry burning, so that they shall pass temporal things and hold for themselves
the seat of endless rest. The more knowledge they have, truly the more they are
able to love rightly, if they be glad to be despised of others, and gladly
despise themselves. And since I here stir all manner of folk to love, and am
busy to show the hottest and supernatural desire of love, this book shall bear
the name: "Burning of Love."


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER I OF MAN'S TURNING TO GOD; AND WHAT HELPS AND WHAT LETS HIS TURNING.
========================================================================

Be it known to all manner of people in this wretched dwelling place of exile
abiding, that no man may be imbued with love of endless life, nor be anointed
with heavenly sweetness, unless he truly be turned to God. It behoves truly he
be turned to Him, and from all earthly things be altogether turned in mind,
before he may be expert in the sweetness of God's love, even in little things.
Soothly by ordinate love is this turning done; so that he loves that that is
worthy to be loved, and loves not that that is not worthy to be loved; and that
he burn more in love of those things that are most worthy, and less in them that
are less worthy.Most is God for to be loved: mickle are heavenly things for to
be loved: little, or nought but for need, are earthly things to be loved.
Withouten doubt thus every man is turned to Christ whiles nought is desired by
him but only Christ.Truly turning from these goods that in this world deceive
their lovers and defend them nought, stands in want of fleshly desire, and
hatred of all wickedness; so that they savour not earthly things, nor desire to
hold to worldly things beyond their strait need. For they truly that heap riches
and know not for whom they gather, having their solace in them, are not worthy
to be sometimes gladdened in the mirth of heavenly love; although they seem by
devotion, not holy but simulated, to feel in their dis-eases something of that
felicity which is to come. For truly for their foul presumption they have fallen
from that sweetness with which God's lovers are softened and made sweet because
they have unmannerly loved worldly money. All love truly that ends not in God is
sinful and makes the havers evil. Wherefore, loving worldly excellence, they are
set on fire with sinful love, and they are further from heavenly heat than is
the space betwixt the highest heaven and the lowest place of the earth.They
sicker are made like to that love because they are conformed to wanton
concupiscence; and holding to old manners of wickedness, they love the vanity of
this life before holy love. Wherefore they change the joy of incorruptible
clearness to wantoned beauty that shall not last. This soothly would they not do
unless they were blinded with the fire of froward love, the which wastes the
burgeoning of virtue and nourishes the plants of all vice. Forsooth many are not
set on womanly beauty nor like lechery, wherefore they trust themselves saved,
as it were with sickerness; and because of chastity only, which they bear
outwardly, they ween they surpass all others as saints. But wickedly they thus
suppose and all in vain, when covetousness, the root of sins, is not drawn out.
And truly, as it is written, nothing is worse than to love money. For whiles the
love of temporal things occupies the heart of any man, it altogether suffers him
to have no devotion. Truly the love of God and of this world may never be
together in one soul, but whichever love is stronger puts out the other that
thus it may openly be known who is this world's lover and who Christ's follower.
(For the heat of love breaks out in works which are seen.) Certainly as Christ's
lovers behave themselves towards the world, and the flesh, so lovers of the
world behave themselves towards God and their own souls.They truly that are
chosen, eat and drink but ever with all their mind to God they take entent, and
in all earthly things not lust, but need they only seek. Of earthly things they
speak with anguish and nought but passingly, nor in them making tarrying; and
then in mind they are yet with God; and the remainder of time they yield to
God's service; not standing in idleness nor running to plays nor wonders -- that
is the token of the rejected -- but rather behaving themselves honestly, they
irk not either to speak or do or think those things that long to God.The
rejected truly alway behave themselves idly towards God; they hear God's word
with hardness, they pray without affection, they think of God without sweetness.
They enter the kirk and fill the walls; they knock their breast and yield sighs,
but plainly but feigned, for why they come to the eyes of men, not to the ears
of God. For when they are in kirk in body, in mind they are distracted to
worldly goods, which they have or else desire to have, wherefore their heart is
far from God. They eat and drink not to their need but to their lust, for but in
lecherous food find they savour or sweetness. They give moreover bread to the
poor, clothing peradventure to the cold; but whiles their alms is done in deadly
sin, or for vainglory, or sickerly of things untruly gotten, no marvel if they
please not our Gainbuyer, [25] but unto vengeance provoke our Judge.Wherefore,
as the chosen, whiles they take heed to the world or the flesh, alway have their
mind busily to God; so the rejected, whiles they seem to do God service are busy
with the world, and to those things that pertain to the world and the flesh they
are greatly ravished in busyness of heart. And as the chosen displease God
nought when they relieve their need, so the rejected please not God in the good
deeds they are seen to do; for their full few good deeds are mingled with many
ill deeds. The fiend has many also which we trow be good. He has forsooth alms
givers, the chaste, and meek -- that is to say sinners calling themselves so --
clad with hair and punished by penance. Truly under weening of health ofttimes
deadly wounds are hid.The fiend has also not a few hasty to work and busy to
preach; but doubtless all those want to him that are warmed in charity (and who
are always eager to love God) and slow to all vanity. The wicked truly are alway
greedy after vile delectations, and as dead unto ghostly exercises; or else cast
down with full great feebleness: whose love is ever inordinate; for they love
temporal goods more than eternal, and their bodies more than their souls.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 28: CHAPTER II THAT NO MAN MAY SUDDENLY COME TO HIGH DEVOTION, NOR BE WET WITH THE SWEETNESS OF CONTEMPLATION
========================================================================

Truly it is shown to lovers that, in the first years of their turning, no man
may attain to high devotion, nor be fully moistened with sweetness of
contemplation. Scarcely truly and seldom, and as it were in the twinkling of an
eye, are they granted to feel somewhat of heavenly things; and profiting little
by little at the last they are made strong in spirit. Then afterward they have
received sadness of manners, and so far as this present changeableness suffers,
have attained to stability of mind; for with great travails is some perfection
gotten, that they may feel some joy in godly love. Nevertheless it is not seen
that all, though they be great in virtue, anon feel verily the actual warmth of
uncreate or unwrought charity, nor melting in the unmeasured flame of love, may
sing within themselves the song of God's praise. This mystery from many truly is
hidden, and to a most special few it is shown; for the higher this degree is,
the fewer finders has it in this world. No marvel that we seldom find any saint,
nor one so perfect in this life and rapt with so high love, that in
contemplation he might be lift up to sweetness of melody; that is to say, that
he might receive into himself the heavenly sound shed into him, and as it were
with melody he should yield it again in praise to God, making many notes in
ghostly praising; and that he might feel in himself the heat of God's love. And
nevertheless it is marvellous that any contemplative man should be trowed
otherwise; for the psalmist, transformed into the person of contemplative man,
says: 'Transibo in domum Dei in voce exultationis et confessionis,' that is to
say: I shall go into God's house in the voice of gladness and shrift'; which
praise is the sound of him that feasts, that is to say, of him that is glad with
heavenly sweetness. The perfect, forsooth, that are taken up into this
surpassing plenty of endless friendship, and imbued with sweetness that shall
not waste, live anew in the clear chalice of full sweet charity; and in the holy
counsel of mirth they draw into their souls happy heat, by the which greatly
gladdened, they have greater comfort of ghostly lectuary than may be trowed.
This refreshment is the height of endless heritage in them who truly love, and
to whom, in this exile forsooth, diseases happen and in the meanwhile it shall
not appear unprofitable to them that they be punished for some years, the which
shall be lift up to sit, without parting, in heavenly seats. Of all flesh also
are they chosen to be most dear in the sight of our Maker, and to be clearly
crowned. As the seraphim in high heaven truly are they burnt, who sit in
solitude of body, yet their minds walk among the angels to Christ their Beloved,
whom they have desired: the which also most sweetly have sung this prayer of
endless love, in Jesu joying. O honey sweet heat, than all delight sweeter, than
all riches more delectable. O my God! O my Love! into me glide; with Thy charity
thirled; with Thy beauty wounded: Slide down and comfort me, heavy; give
medicine to me, wretched; show Thyself to Thy lover. Behold in Thee is all my
desire, and all my heart seeks. After Thee my heart desires; after Thee my flesh
thirsts. And Thou openest not to me but turnest Thy Face. Thou sparrest Thy
door, and hidest Thyself; and at the pains of the innocent Thou laughest. In the
meantime nevertheless Thou ravishest Thy lovers from all earthly things; above
all desire of worldly things Thou takest them, and makest them takers of Thy
love and full great workers in loving. Wherefore in ghostly song, of burning up
bursting, to Thee they offer praises, and with sweetness they feel the dart of
love.Hail therefore O lovely Everlasting Love, that raisest us from these low
things and presentest us with so frequent ravishings to the sight of God's
Majesty. Come into me, my Beloved! All that I had I gave for Thee, and that I
should have, for Thee I have forsaken, that Thou in my soul mightest have a
mansion for to comfort it. Never forsake Thou him that Thou feelest so sweetly
glow with desire for Thee; so that with most burning desire I desire, to be ever
within Thy halsing. [26] So grant me grace to love Thee, and in Thee to rest,
that in Thy kingdom I may be worthy for to see Thee withouten end.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 29: CHAPTER III THAT ILK MAN CHOSEN OF GOD HAS HIS STATE ORDAINED
========================================================================

Contemplative men that are highly burnt with the love of everlasting life are
forsooth highest in this most lovely burning, and most beloved of the Lover
Everlasting; so that they seldom or never go out to worldly business, nor yet
receive the dignity of prelacy nor honours; but rather, certainly, withholding
themselves within themselves, with joy and in song of praise they alway in mind
ascend to Christ. Truly in this the kirk follows the hierarchy of angels, in the
which the highest angels are not sent outward, being evermore near to God. They
that are high in Christ's love and contemplation are so busy in the sight of God
alone, that they take not sovereignty among men; but it is kept for others, that
are more occupied with the business of man, and enjoy less of inward delight.
Therefore irk one chosen has his degree ordained before of God; so that whiles
this one is chosen to prelacy, this other is busy to take heed to God within,
and God within uplifts him thereto, so that he leaves all outward occupations.
Soothly such are most holy and yet of men are held lowest, because they only
dwell in mind for they seldom go outward to do miracles. Others truly both
submit themselves to God's service and discreetly govern their subjects. Others
also that live in fleshly penance, unseen in the sight of men, are ofttimes in
their lives granted or shown tokens; or else after their death, although they be
full sharply punished some while in purgatory. Truly all saints have not done
miracles, either in their life or after their death; nor all damned have lacked
miracles, either in their life or after their death. The doom truly of God is
privy, lest, by seen tokens of sinners, evil should be made worse, and they that
are good, despising those things that may be had in common by good and ill,
should be more quick in the love of their Maker. Some forsooth have wrought good
deeds, but not God's but man's honour have they sought; and this perishes after
their death, only having what they have desired in this world. Truly ofttimes it
happens that the meanly good and less perfect, have done miracles; also full
many of those high in devotion are placed in heavenly seats, and altogether rest
before the Majesty of God, having their meed among the high companies of heaven.
For the feast of Saint Michael is specially honoured, and yet he is not trowed
of the highest order of angels. Some also, turned to God and doing penance, and
forsaking worldly errands, joy in mind if, after death, their name may be
honoured among the living; to the which Christ's true servant should take no
heed, as peradventure he may lose all that he works for. Those things truly that
are common to good and ill, are not to be desired by saints; but charity and
ghostly virtues should be fastened without ceasing in their hearts; the which
not only keep the soul from filth of sins, but in the doom shall raise the body
also to endless memory. All things that are done here soon cease and flee. There
truly, either in honour or confession, they shall last withouten end. The active
therefore and prelates, eminent in cunning and virtue, should set contemplative
men before themselves, and hold them their betters before God; not trowing
themselves worthy to be given to contemplation, unless peradventure God's grace
to that should inspire them.


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  CHAPTER 30: CHAPTER IV THE DIFFERENCE BETWIXT GOD'S LOVERS AND THE WORLD'S: AND THEIR MEEDS
========================================================================

The soul of man feels nothing of the burning of endless love the which has not
first perfectly forsaken all worldly vanity, studying busily to be given to
heavenly things, and to desire God's love without ceasing, and mannerly to love
all creatures to be loved. Truly if all things that we love, we love for God,
rather God in them, than them we love; and so not in them but in God we delight,
whom to enjoy withouten end we shall be glad. The wicked truly love this world,
setting therein the lust of their delectation; and those things only that belong
to this world's joy, withouten ceasing they covet. And how may a man do more
fondly, more wretchedly, or damnably than fully to love, for themselves only,
transitory and failing things. The Trinite God truly is to be loved for Himself
only. Put we therefore our mind fully into it, and be we busy to bear all our
thoughts unto that end, that withouten end we may be gladdened by it; so that
ourselves and all things that we love, we love for that alone. But that sinner
lies that says he loves God and yet dreads not to serve sin. Ilk man truly that
loves God is free, nor binds himself to bondage of sin, but steadfastly
continues in the service of righteousness. Whiles we love earthly things or
comfort for themselves, withouten doubt we love not God, serving Him not
forsooth; but if we be delighted in creatures, so that we set our Maker behind,
and care not to follow those things that are eternal, we shall be deemed as
hating God. Full froward truly is it to the soul, and the token of damnation and
of endless death, when a man gives himself wholly unto this world; and in divers
desires and errors of the flesh, he goes as him lists. Thus no marvel a wretch
is destroyed; and, while he seems to flow in pleasure, he hies to the ay-lasting
penance of hell. Therefore no man should dare presume, nor rise himself up by
pride when he is despised to his reproach, or when insults are cast him; nor
defend himself, nor for ill words give ill again; but all things, praise as well
as reproof, bear evenly. Truly, doing in this wise, we shall withouten end with
Christ be glad, if in this life we love Him without ceasing. Whose love, rooted
in our hearts and made sicker, makes us like unto His likeness; and other joy,
that is to say godly, He puts into us; mirthing our minds wholly with burning
love. His love truly is fire, making our souls fiery and purging them from all
degrees of sin, making them light and burning; which fire, burning in them that
are chosen, ever makes them look up in mind, and continually to hold to the
desire for death. Wherefore, whiles we can sin, let us charge ourselves to flee
this world's prosperity, and to bear adversity gladly. Forsooth an evil mind
while it joys is lost, and while it seeks gladness in creatures it, as it were
with a flattering venom, kills the self; whose contagion let us be well aware to
eschew, beholding the ghostly food that is ordained in heaven for burning
lovers. And so, Christ granting, be we comforted by sweet songs of charity and
be we delighted in so sweet devotion; while the wicked sleep in horrible
darkness, and full of sins, go down to pains. Full great marvel it seems that
mortal man may be taken up into such high love for God that he feels nothing but
heavenly solace in his most privy substance; and so as, in the noise of an
organ, he ascends on high to contemplate high desire. That which is done by
others to sorrow then turns to joy, so that they seem unable to suffer pain in
soul; also they can not be troubled with the dread of death, nor in any way be
moved from restfulness to unease. Truly he who is stirred with busy love, and is
continually with Jesu in thought, full soon perceives his own faults, the which
correcting, henceforward he is ware of them; and so he brings righteousness
busily to birth, until he is led to God and may sit with heavenly citizens in
everlasting seats. Therefore he stands clear in conscience and is steadfast in
all good ways the which is never noyed with worldly heaviness nor gladdened with
vainglory. Truly those obstinate in unclean works know not the love of Christ,
for they are burned with fleshly likings; and they yield no devotion to God
because of the burden of riches by the which they are thrust to the earth. They
are not, forsooth, ordained to have the delights of paradise, but go on in their
frowardness unto their death; and therefore, worthily, their heaviness shall not
be lessened, nor shall the sorrow of their damnation be put aback; because they
wilfully walk in lusts and sin, and have frowardly, for false love, lost the
love of the Endless Lover. Wherefore in perpetual pains they shall plainly
repent that they have sinned; and yet they shall never be cleansed from sin, but
be burned endlessly by continued fires withouten any comforter.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 31: CHAPTER V WHEREFORE IT IS BETTER TO TAKE ENTENT TO THE LOVE OF GOD THAN TO KNOWLEDGE OR DISPUTATION
========================================================================

In all things that we work or think be we more taking heed to the love of God
than to knowledge or disputation. Love truly delights the soul and makes
conscience sweet, drawing it from love of lusty things here beneath, and from
desire of man's own excellence. Knowledge without charity builds not to endless
health but puffs up to most wretched undoing. Be our souls therefore strong in
the taking of hard labours for God; and be they wise with heavenly, not worldly,
savour. May they desire to be lightened with endless wisdom, and to be inflamed
by that fire with which some are stirred to love and desire our Maker only, and
mightily are made strong to the despising of all transitory things. Not counting
their greatest solace in these things that abide not, for they here have no
dwelling, but without ceasing they seek the heavenly place not made with hands,
and cry: Mihi vivere Christus est, et mori lucrum. Christ to me is life, and
great winning to die.' He forsooth truly loves God that consents to no wicked
likings. Certainly man is far from Christ's love in as mickle as he delights
himself in worldly things. Wherefore if thou love God thy work shows that; for
he is never proved to love God whiles he is made to consent to wicked desires.
Therefore to all that are in this exile this I dare show: that all they that
will not love the Maker of all things shall be cast into endless darkness; and
there shall they that would not here be lightened with the love of their
Gainbuyer feel the burning withouten end of the fire of hell. They shall be
sundered from the company of singers, in charity with their Maker; and busily
shall they sorrow cast out from the mirth of those singing in Jesu, wanting in
the clearness and the joy of them that shall be crowned. For liever had they
tarry a little while in worldly softness than suffer penance that their sins
might be cleansed, and they might come full of piety before the Defender of all
good. Truly, in this vale of weeping, they have been delighted in the slippery
way and the broad; where is no place of gladness but of labour, wherefore in
torments withouten release they shall sorrow: when the poor, which were arrayed
with virtues, shall be born to everlasting peace and be made glad in the delight
of full truly seeing the Life-giving Godhead. And in ghostly heat they have
happily flourished, although they have taken no solace in the worthy height of
this world, nor have sown pride among foolish wise men; but they have borne
griefs from wicked men, and have excluded temptations from the soul that they
might be holden in peace at the throne of the Trinity. And they have truly
voided old unthriftiness of venomous life, clearly and most gladly praising
ghostly beauty; and plays of softness, which youth accepts and unwise worldly
men desire, they have deems worthy reproof, thinking with continuance of the
song full of charity ascending to our Maker. For which thing the receivers of
the joy of love, conceiving heat that may not be consumed, join together in song
of clear chorus; and in lovely harmony and friendly mirth have they set a
heavenly shadow against all heat of lechery and filth. Wherefore in this burning
of sweetest love they are taken up to the beholding of their Beloved, and by
means of this most happy flame they are flourishing in virtue, and freely enjoy
their Maker: and their mind, changed, now passes into the melody that lasts. And
from henceforth their thoughts become song, and heaviness being cast out, the
hall of their soul is fulfilled with wonderful music, so that it has entirely
lost the former pricking and evermore abides whole in high sweetness, full
marvellously singing in heavenly sweet meditation. Furthermore when they go from
this hardness and from the diseases that happen here, then the time comes that
they shall be taken, and withouten doubt be born withouten sorrow to God, and
have their seats among the seraphim; for they are altogether set on fire with
the most high fire of love, burning within their souls. So sweetly and devoutly
have they loved God that whatsoever they have felt in themselves was ghostly
heat, heavenly song and godly sweetness. Herefore it is truly that they die
without heaviness, soothly passing with joy; and are lift up unto so great a
degree in endless worship, and are crowned in the contemplation of the great
plenteousness of their Maker, singing with clearest choirs; the which also more
burningly desire after that Godhead that rules all things. And forsooth though
now they clearly behold the chere of truth, and are moistened with the most
delectable sweetness of the Godhead, yet no marvel if after a little while they
shall be made more marvellous: when the bodies of the saints, that are at this
time holden in earth, shall be raised from their graves, and their souls shall
be knitted to them in the last examination. Then forsooth shall they take
principality among the peoples, and the unrighteous shall they deem to be
damned; and they shall show that the meanly good were blessed to come to
Blissfulness. The general doom thus done, soothly they shall be borne into
everlasting song, and go up with Christ to the height of truth, enjoying the
Face of God in love withouten end. By this it is shown that everlasting
sweetness moistens their minds, the which binds the bands of true charity,
unable to be loosed. Wherefore let us seek rather that the love of Christ burn
within us than that we take heed to unprofitable disputation. Whiles truly we
take heed to unmannerly seeking, we feel not the sweetness of the eternal
savour. Wherefore many now so mickle savour in the burning of knowledge and not
of love, that plainly they know not what love is, or of what savour; although
the labour of all their study ought to spread unto this end, that they might
burn in the love of God. Alas, for shame! An old wife is more expert in God's
love, and less in worldly pleasure, than the great divine, whose study is vain.
For why, for vanity he studies, that he may appear glorious and so be known, and
may get rents and dignities: the which is worthy to be held a fool, and not
wise.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 32: CHAPTER VI CONCERNING HERETICS: AND FAITH IN THE TRINITY
========================================================================

The plenteousness and the whole of holy truth shows itself to them that seek it;
and to the children of unity hidden mysteries are open. Wherefore, soothly,
springs the frowardness of heretics but from an untaught and inordinate mind,
which is blinded by desire of its own excellence? For truly they cease not to
resist God within themselves by vain desires; and it is also by their earning
that with open arguments they gainstand the truth outwardly. When the Christian
religion wills to cut away all that is contrary, and fully accord in unity of
love, the manner of heretics and the proud is to get new opinions, and to make
known questions, unwont and from the saying of holy kirk; and so those thing
that true Christian men hold holy they joy to scatter with their vanities. Whose
errors casting away we say: Truly the Son of God, even to the Father, and
without beginning, is evermore to be trowed and understood; for except the
Father had begotten Him without beginning, truly the full Godhead should not
have been in Him. Soothly if God had been at sometime the Father when He had no
Son, then no marvel He was less than afterward, when He had gotten a Son; that
shall no man of good mind say. Therefore God unchangeable begets God
unchangeable; and whom He has begotten from eternity He ceases not this day also
to beget. For neither might the substance of the Son be called at any time
unbegotten, nor the being of the Getter ever be conscious of Himself without any
only begotten Son of Himself. Truly even as the beginning of the Godhead may not
be found of reason or wit because it has not beginning, so the generation of the
Son with the eternal Godhead unchangingly abides. When truly the marvel and
worship of God almighty shows itself clearly in infinity, without beginning, to
what end shall man's folly raise itself in striving to make known to the ears of
mortal men a sacrament unable to be spoken? He truly knows God perfectly that
feels Him incomprehensible and unable to be known. Nothing, soothly, is
perfectly known unless the cause thereof, how and in what wise it is, be
perfectly known. In this present life we know in part and we understand in part;
in the life to come, truly, we shall know perfectly and fully, as is lawful or
speedful to creatures. Forsooth he that desires to know of our Everlasting Maker
above that that is profitable, without doubt falls fonder from perfect knowledge
of Him. Thou askest what God is? I answer shortly to thee: such a one and so
great is He that none other is or ever may be of like kind or so mickle. If thou
wilt know properly to speak what God is, I say thou shalt never find an answer
to this question. I have not known; angels know not; archangels have not heard.
Wherefore how wouldest thou know what is unknown and also unteachable? Truly God
that is almighty may not teach thee what He Himself is. For if thou knew what
God is thou shouldest be as wise as God is: that neither thou nor any other
creature may be. Stand therefore in thy degree, and desire not high things. For
if thou desirest to know what God is, thou desirest to be God; the which becomes
thee not. Wot thou well God alone knows Himself, and may know. Truly it is not
of God's unpower that He may not teach thee Himself as He is in Himself, but for
His inestimable worthiness; for such a one as He is, none other may be. Soothly
if He might be truly known, then were He not incomprehensible. It is enough for
thee therefore to know that God is; and it were against thee if thou would know
what God is. Also it is to be praised to know God perfectly; that is to say, He
being unable to be fully conceived: knowing Him to love Him; loving Him to sing
in Him; singing to rest in Him, and by inward rest to come to endless rest. Let
it not move thee that I have said to know God perfectly, and I have denied that
He may be known: since the prophet in the psalm has said: Praetende
misericordiam tuam scientibus te, that is to say: Thy mercy show to them knowing
Thee.' But thus understand this authority if thou wilt not err: To them knowing
Thee,' that is to say: God is to be loved, to be praised, to be worshipped and
glorified, the only Maker of all things; above all things; through all things;
and in all things; that is blessed in the world of worlds. Amen.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER VII THAT IN THE GODHEAD WE OUGHT NOT TO SAY THREE GODS OR THREE ESSENCES, AS WE SAY THREE PERSONS: AND THAT ILK MAN SHALL BE CALLED GREAT OR SMALL AFTER THE QUANTITY OF HIS LOVE
========================================================================

If any, erring, would say in the Trinity are three Essences because they say
three Persons, why should they not also say three Gods; since to God it is all
one to be God and to be His Essence? We say truly, the Father is God; the Son is
God; the Holy Ghost is God; the Father also is His Essence; the Son is His
Essence; the Holy Ghost is His Essence: and yet not three Gods nor three
Essences we say; but one God and three Persons to be of one Essence, with strong
faith we grant. One Godhead truly there is, of three Persons, full and perfect;
and ilk Person in the self contains the whole Godhead; evenhood and onehood,
forsooth, having after the Substance of the Godhead; not lacking distinction of
diversity after the property of the Name. They are also three Persons and one
god; one Essence; one Substance; one Godhead: and, though ilk Person betokens
the Essence, although there be three Persons yet three Essences shall not
therefore be understood. And as our God, the Father the Son and the Holy Ghost
we call one Essence and not three, so we shall say the High Trinity to be three
Persons, not one alone. The Father is so called, because of Himself He gat a
Son; the Son is so called, because of the Father He is gotten; the Holy Ghost,
because of both the Holy Father and the Holy Son He is inspired. The Father,
Life, getting the Son, Life, has given to Him His whole Substance: so that the
Father should be as mickle in His Son as in Himself (and the Son is not less in
the Father than in Himself). But the Father has taken His Essence of none; the
Son truly of His Father alone has taken in His birth that He is; the Holy Ghost
forsooth of the Father and the Son forth passing, and with Them and in Them
endlessly being, is no more in Himself than in Either: for truly He is even and
everlasting with Them of whom He is; since He is of the same Substance, of the
same Kind, and of the same Godhead; and the third Person in the Trinity. Truly
the everlasting Son of the Father is become Man in time, born of a maiden, that
He might gainbuy man from the fiend's power. This is our Lord Jesus Christ: the
which only be fastened in our minds the which for us only was tied on the cross.
Nothing truly is so sweet as to love Christ. And therefore ransack we not too
mickle those things that we in this life may not conceive. Truly in heaven they
shall be clearer than light, if we give all our hearts to love God. For we shall
be able to be taught of God; and we shall joy in full marvellous melody, and in
high mirth praise our Maker, in full sweet easiness without grief and
irksomeness and withouten end. He forsooth that loves mickle is great, and he
that loves least is least: for after the greatness of the charity we have in us,
shall we be praised before God. So is it not before men, but he that has most
riches or goods is most considered and especially dreaded; when they ought not
so to do, but most honour and dread them that they suppose be best in knowledge.
Truly the mighty men of this world can do nothing but for their bodies or their
goods. Holy men truly have more worthiness; for they shall have power to spar
heaven to them that disease them and would not therefore do penance: and also to
open heaven to them that have honoured them in God, and maintained them in this
exile: whiles they were arrayed with charity and have not received vainglory.
Wherefore they should travail to get, to have, and to hold to charity with all
their might and all their strength, that in the day of temptation they may
manfully stand against the enemy; and when they shall be proved they may receive
the crown of life. Charity truly makes men perfect; and only those loving
perfectly are granted to come to the height of contemplative life. And truly the
poor, although they be clad with heaviness and uncleanness, yet they should not
be despised; for they are friends of God and breathren of Christ, if they bear
the burden of poverty with deeds of praise. Then sickerly the persons ye
despised without, ye honour within as heavenly citizens; and in so mickle as ye
grow to honour them for God, in so mickle He privily works in His Godhead; the
which, comforting them, says: Beati pauperes quoniam vestrum est regnum Dei,
that is to say: Blessed be ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.' For the
great tribulation and need that they suffer in this life they are purged of
their sins. For whiles the poor man is noyed in body with hunger, thirst, cold,
nakedness and other griefs of this world, he is purged in soul from uncleanness
and worldly filth. And truly in the time to come poor men shall feel the sweeter
rest of the everlasting, in as mickle as in this life they have borne most
grievous labours. It shall belong to them truly to say: Laetati sumus pro diebus
quibus nos humiliasti, annis quibus vidimus mala; that is to say: Gladdened are
we for the days in which Thou hast meeded us, for the years in which we have
seen grief.' Wherefore halse [28] the burden of poverty with joy, and have mind
to bear goodly other wretchedness; that by the sufferance of tribulation thou
mayest be worthy to come to the joy of everlasting peace!


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  CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER VIII THAT THE PERFECT LOVER OF GOD HAD LIEVER RUN INTO GREAT PAIN THAN BY SIN ONCE GRIEVE GOD: AND WHY GOD TORMENTS THE RIGHTEOUS BY THE WICKED
========================================================================

From the great fire of love so great beauty of virtue grows in souls that a
righteous man would rather choose to suffer all pain than once grieve God;
although he knew he might rise by penance and afterward please God more and be
holier. For ilk one perfect understands this: that nothing is more dear to God
than innocence, nothing more pleasing than good will. For truly if we love God
rightly we would sooner lose great meed in heaven than once sin venially; for
most righteous is it to ask no meed of righteousness but the friendship of God,
that is Himself. Therefore it is better ever to suffer tormentry than once,
wilfully and knowingly, to be led from righteousness to wickedness. Wherefore it
follows that they who so burningly love Christ that they will in no wise sin,
not only shall be free from pain, but shall joy endlessly with angels. They
truly that serve wicked deeds, and ween that worldly and fleshly solace is to be
greatly loved, loving those things they desire, forsooth they lose both the joy
that they love, and run into the wickedness that they eschewed not. But it is
wont to be asked by some why God almighty chastises the wicked and the righteous
together. Thou seest under the flail both corn and chaff at once; but in the
winnowing the chaff is cast out and the corn is busily gathered to man's use. If
all men lived truly, without doubt we should dwell in peace and tranquillity,
withouten debate and battle; but since among the few good are many evil, many
diseases comes that evil may be chastised: and thus evil things happen to good
men because they are mingled with the evil unto their death. The righteous also,
because they are ready to sin, so that their readiness be not brought to deed
are taught to take a light scouring here, that they may escape the bitter
scouring that is to come. Therefore if thou suffer persecution, wretchedness,
and other diseases, thou hast that which accords to the place in the which thou
dwellest. Is not this the vale of tears and tribulations in which thou art? How
wouldest thou therefore be glad in prison, and live in all prosperity in thine
exile, or go thy long pilgrimage withouten diseases? Have mind that Christ and
His apostles have suffered tormentry, and thou by bliss seekest to come to joy!
But thou shalt not. Forsooth either, in this life, the fire of God's love shall
waste the rust of our sins and cleanse our souls to make them able to flee to
bliss, or else, after this life, the fire of purgatory shall punish our souls,
if it happen we escape the fire of hell. Or else, if the strength of love be not
so mickle in us that it can altogther burn us, it behoves us to be cleansed with
tribulation, sickness and dis-eases. This also we have withouten doubt: that no
young man can be made holy among flatterings, and sweet words of fair women, and
plenteousness of liking things, unless it be by the untrowed greatness of God's
grace; where so many and so great things stir many to fall, so that holy men
have also ofttimes been lost. Wherefore I trow it is a great miracle when man by
the grace of God and the love of Christ perfectly despises these cherishings and
manfully goes up betwixt these enemies to the soul -- although they seem soft to
the flesh -- to the high holiness of heavenly contemplation. And, withouten
fail, the holier he is and the more plenteously filled within with the solace of
God's love, although he be set in the fire, he knows not how to burn; and the
foul lusts of an unclean life offering themselves, he has perfectly slakened
them. It is no marvel (that sometimes), though it be seldom, Christ works in
some beloved to Him, of whom it is said: Expandit nubem in protectionem eorum,
et ignem ut luceret eis per noctem; that is to say: He has spread a cloud, the
shadow of God's grace, for their defence against fleshly desires, and the fire
of endless love to give them light within to mind, through the night of this
life, that they be not taken by the unlawfulness of vain beauty. Truly Christ's
love burns in them with so great sweetness, that all fleshly and unlawful liking
they think of as most foul, and therefore they despise it. Therefore touch thou
not lecherously that which is lawful neither to desire nor to have. Have in mind
also to withhold thy hand, thy tongue, and thy body; and displease not they
conscience concerning women. Truly the stirrings of lechery are the array of men
and women. Also hot lectuaries, and other meats that with their heat too mickle
enflame the flesh -- which nourishers of bodies and killers of souls are busy to
make -- should be eschewed by the chaste.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 35: CHAPTER IX THAT GOD IS TO BE LOVED AND WORSHIPPED IN DISEASES: AND ALSO OF THE MIRTH AND MEEKNESS OF THE GOOD
========================================================================

If temporal honour be destroyed by shame, and worldly be ended by villainy, it
is known without doubt that reproach is better than worship, shame than high
degree, and heaviness than praise. For by these things a man ofttimes slides
into vainglory; by the other always, if a man bear it patiently, he in this life
shall be taught meekness, and in the time to come shall suffer no pain -- for
God will not punish the righteous twice -- and he shall be crowned: for the
patience of the poor will not perish in the end. Truly to holiness these things
belong: first, to think, speak and do in no manner what displeases God; and
then, to think, speak, and work what may please God. Do this after thy
knowledge, so that thou neither fall into slander nor feign too mickle holiness.
For he is a fool that desires to appear holy before men; and cruel that shows
himself evil when he is good. Some things truly there are that, taken heed unto,
in themselves are neither good nor evil, for in their pure nature they are
neither meedful nor unmeedful; and if such things be done they displease not
God; nor if they be left undone please not God. For here we may see, smell,
touch, and yet earn no meed or unmeed. All sin truly is done either to God's
displeasing, or our neighbour's noying, or to our own harm. But many things may
be found among men that are none of these. Truly to be despised, or lost, in the
sight of men, makes man ascend to the joy of angels. O good Jesu here chastise,
here cut, here smite, here burn; yea, and whatsoever please Thy goodiness do to
me, so that in the time to come I have none ill, but may feel Thy love here and
everlastingly. To be despised by all men in confusion and shame for Thee, is
sweeter to me than to be called brother by an earthly king, and to be honoured
among all men and of all men. May wretchedness fall on me on ilka side in this
life, so that Thou God spare me in the other. I will to be chastised and
corrected here; and Christ that grant to me, if otherwise I may not escape pain
to come. The proud truly and those full of wrath seem to themselves so worthy
that they can suffer nothing. Ofttimes at a light word and without cause they
are moved. Therefore they are to be fled more than to be overcome, for they are
froward. And that they have taken up they alway defend, though it be false or
untrue; and neither with authority nor reason will they be overcome, that they
should not be seen to have said what were unaccording. And when they are
untaught -- and that they wot well -- yet they will behave as if they were
inspired in all things that belong to God, so that they may speak in every place
without the gainsaying of any man; and they had liever dwell still in error than
be openly reproved for it. Brethren, leave this proud madness and mad pride, and
let us greatly meek ourselves whiles we are in this way: for it is better,
lovely, and good that after our death Christ say to us, Friend, come uppermore,'
than that He say Carl, go downermore': so truly shall it be of the meek and the
proud. Wherefore no tribulation, no disease, no wretchedness, no shame, no
reproach is to dreaded by the righteous man as long as he sins not and always
profits in contemplative life and the love of God. Truly before we may come to
that kingly hall, in which, filled with sweetness, we shall be glad with the
angels of God and all His saints, it befalls us here to be reproved by
flatterers and wrong sayers; by fawners and backbiters; by praisers and blamers;
so that, when we shall be examined, we may be found alway given to Christ's
precepts and His counsel, in all patience and meekness and charity; as it is
written: Tanquam aurum in fornace probavit eos; that is to say: As gold he has
proved them in the furnace,' that has fire on ilka side, and has found them
worthy to have Himself. Thus let us go through adversity and prosperity, through
fire and water, unto the time we come to the refreshing of the heavenly life.
Have mind also that in all diseases and need and poverty thou never grumble, nor
speak fondly nor frowardly -- but in all things give thanks to God. Thereby
truly shalt thou be lifted up more joyfully to the kingdom of the saints, if in
this world thou suffer gladly the things beforesaid. O my soul, among all things
that happen praise thy Lord with liking devotion; praising, feel with sweetness;
and singing, taste with honeysweet devotion, saying: Laudabo Dominum in vita
mea, that is to say, I shall worship my Lord in my life,' whether I be diseased
or eased: whether I receive honour or shame. As long as I am, I shall sing to my
God. If I rest, I sing in Jesu; and if I suffer persecution, I forget not the
love of God. Truly it is enough for me to love my God, and to come to Him; since
I can do no other or feel myself disposed to the work of no other things but to
love Christ. And yet, I come not to as great love of God as mine elder fathers,
the which have also done many other profitable things; whereof I am full greatly
ashamed in myself, and confused. Therefore, O Lord, make broad my heart that it
may be more able to perceive Thy love. Truly the more able man is to receive, so
mickle the more of charity he takes and savours, and the less he cares for the
flesh; but with discretion, so that it be with him after the sentence of the
wise: Modicum mihi laboravi et inveni mihi multam requiem; that is to say: A
little have I travailed with myself, and I have found great rest to myself.' For
after a few years of this life the righteous have found rest for everlasting.
The holy lover of God shows himself neither too merry nor full heavy in this
habitation of exile, but he has cheerfulness with ripeness. Forsooth some
reprove laughter and some praise it. Laughter therefore which is from lightness
and vanity of mind is to be reproved, but that truly that is of gladness of
conscience and ghostly mirth is to be praised; the which is only in the
righteous, and it is called mirth in the love of God. Wherefore if we be glad
and merry, the wicked call us wanton; and if we be heavy, hypocrites. Seldom,
soothly, can any man trow in another good that he finds not in himself; and he
weens another has the sin into which he stumbles. And the deed of the wicked is
this: that if any follow not their life, they trust that he goes wrong and is
deceived; and this is because he has forsaken meekness. The degrees also of
meekness are: to hold the eyes low, not high; to have a measure in speech, and
not to pass it; to hear gladly their betters and those more wise; and to will
wisdom should be heard from others, rather than from themselves. Not to take the
time of speaking too soon. Not to go from common life. To set others before
thyself; to know thy frailties and to deem thyself worse than all others. If
truly I wished to come among men, I have desired that I might sit last in
number, and be held least in opinion, and so all my joy should be in Christ
Jesu; and thus I should take no heed to man's praising or blaming, but with busy
devotion I should desire after God.Forsooth many that have spoken with me were
like to scorpions; for they have fawned with their flattering head, and with
their backbiting tail have smitten; from whose wicked lips and sorrowful tongue
God shall deliver my soul, setting it in the joy of rest.But whence is come so
great madness into man's mind that none will be blamed, none will be reproved,
but all truly seek to be praised; they joy in honour, and laugh in favour. They
also bear the name of a holier life; but to me such seem either above measure
holy, or else mad, although they be called wise and taught. For who of good mind
is there who leaves himself, not taking heed to himself, and gladdens himself in
the void words of vain men? Truly if he beholds himself busily, and cares to
know of what kind he is in thought and deed, he may soon understand himself, and
may find whether he be worthy of praise or reproof.When therefore he sees
himself in many things worthy of blame and in few things to be praised, he
should not take with gladness the honour or favour of which he is not worthy;
unless he be mad and has erred in mind. Truly, if carefully considering himself,
he finds he waxes marvellously warm in the heat and sweetness of God's love, and
rises highly in contemplative life, and also in this continually stands; and has
also in mind that either he has not done great sins, or if he have done any he
trows they be cleansed by true penance: then truly it behoves him not to sorrow
for the honour of men, because clearly he was more worthy of the fellowship of
angels.Whosoever is thus disposed should no more joy to sit with a king than
with a poor man; for he takes no heed to riches and honours from men, but unto
the life and meeds of ilka man. He holds it not great to shine in gold, nor to
be umbelapped with a great menge, nor to go in purple and be glad in the array
of bishops: but truly he sets a holy and sweet conscience before all pleasures
and riches.


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  CHAPTER 36: CHAPTER X THAT GOD'S LOVER FORSAKES THE WORLD, IDLENESS AND IRKSOMENESS: AND OF HYPOCRITES AND COVETOUS MEN
========================================================================

It is said in the Canticles: Love is strong as death and love is hard as hell.'
Death truly kills the quick; hell soothly spares not the dead. So, certainly,
the love of God not only utterly kills the love of this world in the man that it
perfectly ravishes, but also, being slain to the world and quickened to heaven,
it stirs him to suffer full mickle tribulation and worldly wretchedness for God.
Wherefore whosoever thou mayest be that hopest that thou lovest Christ to this
take heed; for if thou yet behold earthly things with delight, and also find thy
soul high to suffer wrongs or else death, thou showest forsooth that thou art
not God's true lover. Soothly a true lover neither dresses his eyes to the
world, nor dreads to suffer all that seems heavy or hard to the body for God;
and whosoever happen to him yet he is not let from the thought of Jesu his
Beloved. Thou also that either art God's lover, or with thy whole mind desirest
to be, study alway, as mickle as thou canst by Christ's grace, not to be noyed
by irksomeness, nor to be taken with idleness. And if it sometimes happen that
sweet easiness be not to thee in praying or in good thinking, and that thou be
not made high in mind by the song of holy contemplation, and thou canst not sing
as thou wast wont; yet cease not to read or pray, or else do some other good
deed, inward or outward, that thou slide not into idleness or sloth.
Irksomeness, soothly, has drawn many to idleness; and idleness, to negligence
and wickedness. Wherefore be thou alway fervent in as mickle as in thee is; and
have not thy desire bowed to anything of this world that may be had or desired.
No man truly is perfectly knit to God, whiles he is bound in desire to any
worldly creature. There are some also that seem outwardly oned to God, and
within they are given to fiends. These are simulators and false men, that
challenge the wrath of God. Feigners forsooth they are, that despise the world
with their words, and with their deeds are known to love it too mickle. They
will be seen speaking of God, and are so mickle taken up within with love of
money that they also strive sometimes for the weight of two halfpence. The
which, opening their mouth to desire God, are utterly wanting in charity; and
whiles they have no heat of faith and charity they show themselves most holy in
gait, clothing, and speech. These also, moreover, boast themselves steadfast in
light diseases, but when they come thereto where they should gainstand, there
they are soonest broken, and there they fall. And then what before was hid is
openly shown. Yet when they abound in riches and are fed with riches, they say
they eat full little, and that they have so great thought that all this world is
but vanity, that, as they say, they can scarcely last for feebleness. Deceitful
also are they, because they have worldly wisdom; and they beguile by that, so
that they are not perceived by others lying in wait, in as mickle as they are
aware; and hiding covetousness under the title of ghostly rest, they eschew loss
of worldly goods, in despite of things everlasting. But such, although they lurk
for a time, withouten doubt it shall appear of what kind they have been long
before the end, or at least in the end. The which do alms, or any other deed
they do, in the sight of men; that it may be seen of all men. And such worthily
provoke the wrath of God for they desire, not to be, but to be seen holy; and
within, where God sees, wanting in true charity, they challenge their own joy
not God's. Full hard it truly is [to have riches, and not to love them, and not
less difficult is it] to have a winning craft or office, and not to be covetous.
Wherefore ofttimes are priests defamed among the people: that though they be
chaste they are found covetous, if they be generous they are made lechers. And
ofttimes it happens that having taken the order of priesthood, they fall as
mickle deep into sin as the degree which they unworthily have taken is high.
Truly not a few, set on fire with noisome covetousness, under colour of sickness
or poverty that may come say they gather their goods that they may eschew sudden
wretchedness. But they are beguiled by fiends, for they both lose worldly goods,
and run into the darkness that they dread, because they heed not God that
delivers His servants in His sight: and that is worst of all, whiles within they
are fulfilled with worldly covetousness, without they seem to themselves to
shine with tokens of holiness. But he that is our Lord's servant trusts in our
Lord; and distributes the goods which he has over his need, to them that need.
The servant of the world truly studies to keep evilly all that he has, because
of his covetousness which is unable to be fulfilled: so great a niggard is he
that he dare not eat, save foully and scarcely, so that, being sparing, he may
gather mickle money. And these are they that the psalmist shames saying: Inimici
ejus terram lingent; that is to say: His enemies shall lick the earth.'


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  CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER XI THAT LOVERS OF GOD SHALL DEEM WITH HIM: AND OF THE LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE GOTTEN BY LABOUR, AND OF GOD: AND THAT A TRUE LOVER ERRS NOT, NOR IS BEGUILED NEITHER WITH FASTING NOR ABSTINENCE, COUNSEL NOR PRESUMPTION
========================================================================

Man's soul is the taker of God only; anything less than God cannot fulfill it:
wherefore earthly lovers never are fulfilled. The rest therefore of Christ's
lovers is when their hearts are fastened by desire and thought in the love of
God; and loving, burning and singing, contemplate Him. Sweetest forsooth is the
rest which the spirit takes whiles sweet godly sound comes down, in which it is
delighted, and in most sweet and playful songs the mind is ravished to sing the
delights of everlasting love. Now forsooth the praise of God sounds again in the
mouth, and of the blest Maiden, in whom it joys more than may be trowed. And no
marvel that this happens, whiles the heart of the singer is utterly burnt with
heavenly fire and is figured into His likeness, in the which is all sweet and
merry song, moistening our affections with heavenly savour. And therefore he
abounds with inward delights, and in song and thought joys in the burning of
love. This truly is untrowable to all mortals; and he that has this trows not
that anything so sweet and full of sweetness can be perceived by man, being yet
in body that will rot, and being grieved with the fetters of mortality. The
haver marvels also, but is gladdened, because of the goodness, unable to be
told, of God, that gives His goods plenteously and upbraids not; of whom he
receives all that he feels. Forsooth when that great thing wants -- and truly it
is called great formerly to mortals it is nearly unknown -- he never trows
himself to be in prosperity, but alway languishes in love; whiles he wakes he
continually sings, or thinks, of love and of his lover: and if he be alone the
more sweetly he sings. Truly from the time that any man has received this, never
afterwards shall he fully go from it; but evermore shall heat, sweetness, or
singing -- if all these be not near -- bide. But all these truly bide together,
unless they be repressed by full great sickness of the head, or of the breast,
or of the side; or by great hunger or thirst by the which the flesh is broken;
or with too mickle cold or heat or with travel, they be let. Therefore it
behoves him that will sing in God's love, and in singing will rejoice and burn,
to be in the wilderness, and not to live in too mickle abstinence; nor to be
given in any wise to superfluity or waste. Nevertheless it were better for him
in little things to pass measure unknowingly, whiles he does it with good intent
to sustain nature, than if for too mickle fasting he began to fail, and for
feebleness of body he could not sing. But withouten doubt he that is chosen to
this neither in eating nor in abstinence is overcome by falsehood of the fiend.
Truly the true lover of Christ, and taught of Christ, with no less study is ware
of too mickle than of too little. Withouten comparison truly shall he be worthy
of more meed, that with songful joy, praying, contemplating, reading and
meditating, and eating well but discreetly; than if he, withouten this, should
fast evermore, or should eat bread alone or herbs, and should continually pray
and read. Eaten have I and drunken of this that seemed best, not because I loved
pleasantness, but because nature must be sustained in the service of God and in
the praise of Jesu Christ; conforming myself in good manners to them with whom I
dwelt for Christ; and that I should not feign holiness where none is, nor that
men should praise me too mickle where I was full little to be praised. From
divers, also, I have gone, not because they fed me commonly or in hard measure,
but because we have not accorded in manners, or for some other reasonable cause.
Nevertheless I dare say, with blessed Job: Fools have despised me; and when I
have gone from them they have backbitten me; nevertheless they shall be ashamed
when they see me that have said that I would not abide but where I might be
delicately fed.' It is better truly to see what I may despise, than to desire
what I may not see. No marvel that fasting is full good to cast down the desires
of the flesh, and to make tame wild wantonness of mind. Truly fleshly desires
lie as it were slaked in him who goes to the height of contemplation by song and
the burning of love. For the death of ill affections belongs to him that takes
heed to contemplation; whose soul is also turned within into another joy and
another form. He lives now not to himself, but Christ truly lives in him;
wherefore he melts in His love, and languishes within himself, and nearly fails
for sweetness: he scarcely lives for love. His soul is it that says: Nunciate
dilecto quia amore langueo: that is to say: Show to my Beloved, that I languish
for love.' I desire to die: I covet to be loosed: full greatly I yearn to go.
Behold for love I die! Lord, come down! Come, my Beloved, lift me from
heaviness. Behold I love: I sing: I am full hot: I burn within myself. Have
mercy upon me, wretched; bidding me be brought before Thee. He that has this
joy, and in this life is thus gladdened, is inspired of the Holy Ghost: he
cannot err, whatever he do it is lawful. No mortal man can give him counsel so
good as that is that he has in himself of God Immortal. If others truly would
give counsel to him, withouten doubt they shall err because they have not known
him: and if he would give assent to their skills he shall not be suffered of God
that constrains him to His will, that he pass it not. Wherefore of such is said:
Spiritualis omnia judicat, et a nemine judicatur; that is to say: The ghostly
man deems all things, and is deemed of no man.' But no man may be of so great
presumption that he suppose himself to be such a one; although he has perfectly
forsaken all the world, and though he has led a solitary life, unable to be
reproved, and though he has gone up to the contemplation of heavenly things. For
this grace truly is not granted to all contemplatives, but seldom, and to most
few: the which, taking great rest of body and of mind, are only chosen to the
work by the strength of God's love. Full hard soothly it is to find such a man;
and because they are few, full dear are they held, desirable, and beloved before
God and man; and angels also joy in their passing from this world, whom angels
company becomes. Many forsooth there are that oft, in great devotion and
sweetness, offer their prayers to God, and praying and meditating they can feel
sweetness of contemplation; the which also run not about but bide in rest.


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  CHAPTER 38: CHAPTER XII THAT NO MAN SHALL DEEM ANOTHER, BUT GIVE GOD PRAISE: AND OF EIGHT AFFECTIONS OF THE LOVE OF GOD: AND THAT WOMEN'S COMPANY BE ESCHEWED.
========================================================================

If any man live holily and righteously, he also despises not the worst sinners.
Truly they, being tempted, fall because they have no grace of gainstanding,
although by their own malice they turn themselves from good to ill. No man can
work well, and love God, and be chaste, except God give it to him. Also thou
that swellest in pride because thou hast done well, for thou hast restrained
thyself from fleshly lusts and thou hast suffered sharp penance, wherefore thou
hast taken praise from the mouth of man: have mind that, except the goodliness
of Christ had overcovered thee, thou shouldest have fallen into as many ills, or
into worse, than he that is fallen. Truly of thyself thou hadst no grace of
gainstanding, but of Him, to Whom is said: Diligam te Domine, fortitudo mea.
'Thee, Lord my strength, I shall love.' Wherefore, if thou have nought but that
thou hast received, why pridest thou thyself as if thou hadst not received it? I
forsooth do thanks to my God; the which, without my merit, has so chastened His
child -- for my good and His honour -- has so made His servant fear, that it
seems full sweet to me to flee worldly pleasures, that are both few and soon
slipping; in no mickle that I might be worthy to escape the pains of hell, that
are both many and shall never end. And yet again He has so taught me, and given
me virtuous teaching, that I should gladly bear this present penance and
tribulation; in so mickle that I might come full lightly to everlasting
delectation and most full prosperity. For if we will, in this life lightly and
without great sharpness, we can perfectly repent and cleanse ourselves; as long
as we, as mickle as we can, destroy vice. If we be not cleansed here, truly in
the time to come, we shall find that the Apostle is true, saying these words:
Horrendum est incidere in manus Dei viventis. 'Horrible is it to fall into the
hands of the living God.' Lord God, have mercy on me! My youth was fond; my
childhood vain; my young age unclean. But now Lord Jesu my heart is enflamed
with Thy holy love and my reins are changed; and my soul also will not now touch
for bitterness what before was my food: and my affections now are such that I
hate nothing but sin. Nought dread I but to grieve God: I joy not but in God: I
sorrow not but for my sins: I love nothing but God: nothing I trust but Him:
nothing heavies me but sin: nothing gladdens me but Christ. Nevertheless now,
lately, of three worthy women I worthily received reproof . . . [29] Forsooth
coming to myself I do praise to God, because by their words He taught me good,
and has shown to me a sweeter way than I knew before; that Christ's grace so
mickle working in me, I shall not be found worthy reproof in this way before
women. The fourth woman, to whom I was in part familiar, not reproving but as it
were despising me, said: Nought hast thou but fair looks and fair words, deeds
hast thou none.' And therefore I trow it is better to want their speciality than
to fall into their hands, that know not, either in love nor in despite, to keep
measure. This truly has happened to me because I have sought their health; not
that I have unlawfully desired anything of them with whom I have for some while
taken my bodily sustenance.


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  CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER XIII THAT SOLITARY OR HERMIT'S LIFE PASSES COMMON AND MIXED LIFE. AND HOW IT COMES TO FIRE OF LOVE: AND OF SWEETNESS OF SONG.
========================================================================

Some have been and peradventure are yet alive that alway set common life before
solitary life; saying we ought to run to gatherings if we desire to come to high
perfection. Against whom there is not mickle to dispute, because that life only
they bear up with praise, the which they either covet to keep, or at the least
know full little. Truly they praise not solitary life, for they know it not.
Truly there is a life which no man living in flesh can know, but he to whom it
is given of God to have; and soothly no man deems truly of this thing, of which
he is yet unsicker what, and in what manner, it works. Withouten doubt, I wot if
they knew it more than another they would praise it. Others err worse that cease
not to reprove and slander solitary life, saying: Vae soli; that is to say: Woe
be to a man alone'; not expounding alone' as without God', but without a
fellow.' He truly is alone with whom God is not; for when he falls into death he
is taken alive to tormentry, and is sparred from the joyful sight of God and of
His saints. Forsooth he that chooses solitary life for God, and leads it in good
manner, is not near woe but fair virtue; and the name of Jesu shall continually
delight his mind; and the more they dread not to take that life without man's
solace, the more shall it be given them to be gladdened with God's comforting.
Ghostly visitations forsooth ofttimes they receive; the which, set in company,
they know not at all. Therefore it is said to a beloved soul: Ducam cam in
solitudinem, et ibi loquar ad car ejus. That is to say: I shall lead her into
the wilderness, and there shall I speak unto her heart.' Some truly are taught
by God to desire the wilderness for Christ, and to hold a single purpose; the
which forthwith, that they may more freely and devoutly serve God, forsaking the
common clothing of the world, despise all transitory things, and cast away
temporal things; and excelling in height of mind they desire only everlasting
joy, and are only given to devotion and contemplation, and every effort of their
life they cease not to give to the love of Christ. Of whom full many, although
from men they dwell full far, yet they stumble not from heavenly desires,
because their minds are full far from wicked conversation. The righteous hermits
have also a single purpose. They live in the charity of God and of their
neighbour; they despise worldly praise; as mickle as they can they flee man's
sight; they hold ilk man more worthy than themselves; they continually give
their minds to devotion; they hate idleness; they manly gainstand fleshly lusts;
they savour and burningly seek heavenly; earthly they covet not, but forsake; in
sweetness of prayer they are delighted. Truly some of them feel the sweetness of
eternal refreshment; and with chaste heart and body, with the undefiled eye of
the mind, truly behold God and the citizens of heaven. Because by the bitter
drink of penance they have loved great labour, they are now set afire with the
love of high contemplation, and alone are worthy to take heed to God, and to
bide the kingdom of Christ. Therefore great is the hermit's life if it be
greatly done. And truly the blessed Maglorius was full of miracles, and from his
childhood gladdened by the sight of angels. When according to the prophecy of
his former father, Saint Sampson, he was made archbishop, and had a long
worthily governed God's kirk, being warned by the visit of an angel, he left his
archbishopric and chose a hermit's life. And at the end of his life his passing
was betokened to him. Saint Cuthbert also went from his bishopric to an
anchorite's life. Therefore if such men have done thus for to have more meed,
who of good mind will be hardy to set any state in holy kirk before solitary
life? Truly in this they occupy themselves with no outward things, but only take
heed to heavenly contemplation; and that they be continually warm in the love of
Christ, and set worldly business perfectly behind. Wherefore a heavenly noise
sounds within them, and full sweet melody makes the solitary man merry; for
clatterings distract them who are set among many, and but seldom suffer them to
think or pray. Of which solitary the psalmist speaks in the Song of Love,
saying: I will go into the place of the marvellous tabernacle, into the house of
God.' And he describes the manner of going, in rejoicing and songs of praise,
saying: In voce exultationis et confesionis; that is to say: In voice of
gladness and shrift.' And that loneliness withouten noise and bodily song is
needful to that -- that man may receive that songful joy, and hold it in joying
and singing -- he openly shows in another place: Elongavi, inquit, fugiens; et
mansi in solitudine. That is to say: Fleeing by myself, I have withdrawn, and in
the wilderness I have dwelt.' In this life truly he is busy to burn in the fire
of the Holy Ghost; and into the joy of love to be taken and, comforted by God,
to be glad. For the perfect lonely man hugely burns in God's love; and whiles in
surpassing of mind he is rapt above himself by contemplation, he is lift up
joying unto that sweet sound and heavenly noise. And such a one, forsooth, is
likened to the seraphim, burning within himself anchorite without comparison and
most steadfast, whose heart is figured to godly fire; and in full light and
burning he is borne up into his love. And forsooth after this life he shall be
suddenly taken up to the high seats of the heavenly citizens, that in the place
of Lucifer he may full brightly be. For so great is the burning of love and more
than can be shown to him that has sought only the glory of his Maker, and who,
going meekly, has not raised himself above sinners.


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  CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER XIV OF THE PRAISE OF SOLITARY LIFE AND OF THE FIRST LOVERS THEREOF: AND THAT LOVE OF GOD STANDS IN HEAT, SONG, AND SWEETNESS: AND THAT REST IS NEEDFUL: AND THAT SUCH ARE SAVED FROM DECEITS, AND ARE NOT SET IN PRELACY
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Saint Job in tormentry was taught by the Holy Ghost the commendation of many
manner of holy hermits knit into one, saying: Quis dimisit onagrum liberum, etc.
that is to say: Who left the wild ass free, and loosed her bands?' etc. First,
therefore, he commends the freeness of grace, when he says: who let the wild ass
loose?' Second, the putting away of fleshly desires; when he says: and his bands
loosed.' Third, solitary conversation, when he adds: to her he gave a house in
the wilderness.' Fourth, the desire of endless bliss, when he says: and his
tabernacle in the land of saltness,' for salt truly slakes not, but increases
thirst; and so the more they have received anything of the sweetness of
everlasting life, the more they desire to have, and the more to taste. Forsooth
John Baptist, after Christ the prince of hermits, tarrying in no desire, chose a
solitary life; and others have also chosen it, like to a gadfly, the which, says
Solomon, has no leader or commander, and goes forth by companies of gifts and
virtues. Truly there are bands of nature and of sin, which our Lord has loosed
in them, and has confirmed the bands of charity. The house of the wilderness may
also be said to be the rest of a sinner; for holy hermits are sundered from
worldly strifes and sins; and, Christ, giving it, they receive the sweetness of
a clear conscience, and singing the joys of everlasting love, they rest,
refreshed by the most merry heat: and although with sharpness and frowardness
they be pricked in body, nevertheless they resolutely hold within their soul
praise and burning. There is another ill wilderness of pride: when any man
either prefers himself before all others, or what he has he ascribes to the
might of his freewill; of whom it is said: Vae soli: 'Woe to the man alone'; if
he fall he has no helper up. In the beginning truly of a hermit's turning -- I
speak not of runners about that are the slander of hermits -- they are made
weary with many and divers temptations; but after the tempest of ill movings God
insheds the brightness of holy desires, that if they use themselves manly in
weeping, meditating, and praying, and seeking only the love of Christ, after a
little while they shall seem to themselves to live more in delight, than in
weeping, or straitness of labour. They shall have Him whom they loved; whom they
sought; and whom they desired: and then shall they joy and not be heavy. What is
it truly to joy but to have the good desired; of it to think; and in it to rest?
No marvel that mirth is sweet where true lovers accord, and where the merry
solace is of the touching of love; truly unable to be told is the desire of
burning lovers, and the sight and speech of each to the other is sweet to them,
above honey and the honey-comb. Jeremy truly commends solitary life saying: Good
it is to be a man when he has borne the yoke of God from his young age; he shall
sit solitary and be in peace; for by the desire and contemplation of things
everlasting he has raised himself above himself.' Whence it is written in
scripture: Natus non est in terra quasi Enoch; that is to say: None is born on
earth as Enoch,' because forsooth he was taken from the earth. For contemplative
men are higher than others both in excellence of work and heartiness of love.
Love forsooth dwells in the heart of the solitary if he seek nothing from vain
lordship. Here he utterly burns and longs for light whiles he thus clearly
savours things heavenly; and sings with honey-sweetness and without heaviness;
as the seraphim -- to whom he is like in loving mind -- cries and says to his
noble Lover; Behold, loving, I burn; greedily desiring.' Thus with fire untrowed
and thirling flame the soul of a lover is burned. It gladdens all things and
heavenlike sparkles. Nor happily desiring do I make an end but alway going to
that I love death to me is sweet and sicker. Forsooth the holy solitary, because
he suffered to sit in the wilderness for his Saviour, shall receive a golden
seat in heaven, and excellence amongst the orders of angels. And because for the
love of his Lord he was clad with vile clothes, he shall do on a kirtle to his
heels, everlasting, and wrought with the clearness of his Maker. And because,
taming his flesh, he shamed not to have a pale and lean face, he shall receive a
full marvellous shining of face; and shall bear a most fair mantle, inwoven with
precious stones, for his despised clothes, among the mighty of Paradise
withouten end. And truly because he voided vice, and burgeoning not in jollity
of this life, has entirely cast out the species of sin, the burning of the love
of God Almighty he has received into himself most sweet heavenly sound; and the
sound of singers of songs full of charity is worthily inshed sweetly into his
mind. Therefore bodily and without dread he goes out from this exile hearing in
his end angels songs; and he that loved most burningly, going into the
Everlasting Hall, shall full worthily be taken up to a degree most joyful, so
that with the seraphim he may be in a full high seat. As I forsooth, seeking in
scripture, might find and know, the high love of Christ soothly stands in three
things: in heat; in song; in sweetness. And I am expert in mind that these three
can not long remain without great rest. For if I would contemplate standing,
walking, or lying, methought I lacked full mickle thereof in myself and
me-seemed desolate; wherefore, constrained by need, that I might have and abide
in high devotion, I chose to sit. The cause of this I know well; for if a man
stands or walks for some time, his body waxes weary and so the soul is let, and
in a manner irks for the charge, and he is not in high quiet and, it follows,
not in perfectness; for, after the philosopher, the soul is made wise sitting or
resting. He therefore that as yet is more delighted in God standing than
sitting, may know that he is full far from the height of contemplation. Whence
truly in these three that are tokens of most perfect love, the highest
perfection of Christian religion without all doubt is found; and I have now,
Jesu granting, received these three after the littleness of my capacity.
Nevertheless I dare not make myself even to the saints that have shone in them,
for they peradventure have received them more perfectly. Yet shall I be busy in
virtue that I may more burningly love, more sweetly sing, and more plenteously
feel the sweetness of love. Ye err, brethren, if ye trow that none now are so
holy as the prophets or apostles have been.Soothly, heat I call it when the mind
is truly kindled in love everlasting; and the heart in the same manner, not
hopingly but verily, is felt to burn. For the heart turned into fire gives the
feeling of burning love.Song I call it when in a soul the sweetness of
everlasting praise is received with plenteous burning, and thought is turned
into song; and the mind is changed into full sweet sound.These two are not
gotten in idleness, but in high devotion; to the which the third is near, that
is to say sweetness untrowed. For heat and song truly cause a marvellous
sweetness in the soul; and also they may be caused by full great sweetness.
Truly there is not any deceit in this plenteousness, but rather it is the most
perfect ending of all deeds. Yet some ignorant of contemplative life are
deceived by the fiend of the midday into a false and feigned sweetness, for they
trow themselves full high when they are low.But the soul in which the foresaid
three things run together, bides altogether unable to be thirled with the arrows
of our enemy, whiles she is continually thinking of the lover; for with mind
unsmitten she raises herself to heaven and stirs herself to love.And marvel not
if melody be sent to the soul thus ordinate in love, and though she continually
receives comfortable songs from the Beloved; for she lives not as if under
vanity, but as it were clad with the heavenly, yea so that she may burn
withouten end in unwrought heat and never fall. When she also loves unceasingly
and burningly, and as it was before said, feels this most happy heat in her
soul, and knows herself subtly burnt with the fire of endless love, plainly
feeling her most beloved in desired sweetness, meditation is turned into songs
of joy, and nature is renewed and umbelapped in heavenly mirth. Wherefore her
Maker whom she has desired with all her heart, has granted her to pass without
dread and heaviness from the corruptible body, that without heaviness of death
she may forsake the world; the which being the friend of light and enemy of
darkness has loved nothing but life.This manner of man forsooth that is taken to
so high love, ought to be chosen neither to office nor outward prelacy; nor to
be called to any secular errand. Truly they are like the stone that is called
topaz, the which is seldom found, and therefore it is held most precious and
full dear, in which are two colours: one is most pure even as gold, and the
other clear as heaven when it is bright. And it overcomes all the clearness of
all stones; and nothing is fairer to behold. But if any would polish it, it is
made dim, and truly if it be left to itself its clearness is withholden.So holy
contemplatives, of whom we spake before, are most rare and therefore most dear.
They are like to gold for surpassing heat of charity, and to heaven for
clearness of heavenly conversation; the which pass the lives of all saints, and
therefore are clearer and brighter among the precious stones, that is to say the
chosen, because loving and having this lonely life they are clearer than all
other men that are, or else have been. But truly who will polish such, that is
to say honour them with dignities, are busy to lessen their heat, and in a
manner to make their fairness and their clearness dim; for truly if they get the
honour of principality, they shall forsooth be made fouler and of less meed.
Therefore they shall be left to take heed to their studies, that their clearness
may increase.


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  CHAPTER 41: CHAPTER XV HOW AND IN WHAT TIME I CAME TO SOLITARY LIFE: AND OF THE SONG OF LOVE: AND OF CHANGING OF PLACE
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When I was prospering unhappily, and to youth of wakeful age had now come, the
grace of my Maker was near, the which restrained the lust for temporal shape and
turned it into unbodily halsing to be desired; and lifting my soul from low
things has borne it to heaven, so that I might truly burn in desire for the
everlasting mirth, more than ever I was gladdened before by any fleshly company,
or else by worldly softness. If I will truly show this process it behoves me
preach solitary life. The spirit forsooth has set my mind on fire to have and to
love this, the which henceforth to lead according to the measure of my sickness
I have taken care. Nevertheless I have dwelt among them that have flourished in
the world, and have taken food from them. Flatterings also, that ofttimes might
draw worthy fighters from high things to low, I have heard. But these
out-casting for the sake of one, my soul was taken up to the love of my Maker;
and desiring to be endlessly delighted with sweetness, I gave my soul up so that
in devotion she should love Christ. The which she has forsooth received of her
Beloved so that now loneliness appears most sweet to her, and all solace in
which the error of man abounds she counts for nought. I was wont forsooth to
seek rest, although I went from place to place. For it is not ill for hermits to
leave cells for a reasonable cause, and afterwards, if it accord, to turn again
to the same. Truly some of the holy Fathers have done thus, although they have
therefore suffered the murmuring of men; nevertheless not of the good. The evil
truly speak ill; and if they had abode right there they would also have done
that, for it is customary to them. If the covering of a privy is put by, nothing
but stink flies out; and ill speaking is spoken out of the heart's plenty, in
which the venom of adders lurks. This have I known, that the more men have raved
against me with words of backbiting, so mickle the more I have grown in ghostly
profit. Forsooth the worst backbiters I have had are those which I trusted
before as faithful friends. Yet I ceased not for their words from those things
that were profitable to my soul; truly I used more study, and ever I found God
favorable. I called to mind what is written: Maledicent illi, et tu benedices,
that is to say: They shall curse him, and thou shalt bless.' And in process of
time great profit in ghostly joy was given me. Forsooth three years, except
three or four months, were run from the beginning of the change in my life, and
of my mind, to the opening of the heavenly door; so that, the Face being shown,
the eyes of the heart might behold and see by what way they might seek my Love,
and unto Him continually desire. The door forsooth yet biding open, nearly a
year passed until the time in which the heat of everlasting love was verily felt
in my heart. I was sitting forsooth in a chapel, and whiles I was mickle
delighted with sweetness of prayer or meditation, suddenly I felt within me a
merry and unknown heat. But first I wavered, for a long time doubting what it
could be. I was expert that it was not from a creature but from my Maker,
because I found it grow hotter and more glad. Truly in this unhoped for,
sensible and sweet-smelling heat, half a year, three months and some weeks have
out run, until the inshedding and receiving of this heavenly and ghostly sound;
the which belongs to the songs of everlasting praise and the sweetness of unseen
melody; because it may not be known or heard but of him that receives it, whom
it behoves to be clean and departed from the earth. Whiles truly I sat in this
same chapel, and in the night before supper, as I could, I sang psalms, I beheld
above me the noise as it were of readers, or rather singers. Whiles also I took
heed praying to heaven with my whole desire, suddenly, I wot not in what manner,
I felt in me the noise of song, and received the most liking heavenly melody
which dwelt with me in my mind. For my thought was forsooth changed to continual
song of mirth, and I had as it were praises in my meditation, and in my prayers
and psalm saying I uttered the same sound, and henceforth, for plenteousness of
inward sweetness, I burst out singing what before I said, but forsooth privily,
because alone before my Maker. I was not known by them that saw me as,
peradventure, if they had known me, they would have honoured me above measure,
and so I should have lost part of the most fair flower, and should have fallen
into desolation. In the meanwhile wonder caught me that I should be taken up to
so great mirth whiles I was in exile; and because God gave gifts to me that I
knew not to ask, nor trowed I that any man, not the holiest, could have received
any such thing in this life. Therefore I trow this is given to none meedfully,
but freely to whom Christ will; nevertheless I trow no man receives it unless he
specially love the Name of Jesu, and in so mickle honours It that he never lets
it pass from his mind except in sleep. I trow that he to whom it is given to do
that, may fulfill the same. Wherefore from the beginning of my changed soul unto
the high degree of Christ's love, the which, God granting, I was able to attain
-- in which degree I might sing God's praises with joyful song -- I was four
years and about three months. Here forsooth, with the first disposition of love
gathered into this degree, she bides to the very end; and also after death she
shall be more perfect: because here the joy of love or burning of charity is
begun, and in the heavenly kingdom it shall receive its most glorious ending.
And forsooth she profits not a little, set in these degrees in this life, but
she ascends not into another degree; but, as it were confirmed in grace, as far
as mortal man can, she rests. Wherefore without ceasing I desire to give grace
and praise to God, the which both in diseases, heaviness, and persecution gives
me solace; and in prosperity and flatterings makes me with sickerness await an
endless crown. Therefore, in Jesu joying, I continually yield praise; the which
has vouchsafed me, least and wretched, to mingle with sweet ministers, from whom
songs of melody, yet heavenly, spring forth through the Spirit. Continually with
joy shall I give thanks because He has made my soul in clearness of conscience
like to singers clearly burning in endless love; and whiles she loves and
seethes in burning, the changed mind, resting and being warmed by heat, and
greatly enlarged by desire and the true beauty of lovely virtue, blossoms
without vice or strife in the sight of our Maker; and thus beating praise within
herself, gladdens the longer with merry song and refreshes labours.Many and
great are these marvellous gifts, but among the gifts of this way none are such
as those which full dearly in figure confirm the shapeliness of the unseen life
in the loving soul; or which so sweetly comfort the sitter, and being comforted,
ravish him to the height of contemplation and the accord of the angels
praise.Behold, brethren, I have told you how I came to the burning of love, not
that ye should praise me, but that ye should glorify my God, of whom I received
ilk good deed that I had; and that ye, thinking that all things under the sun
are vanity, may be stirred to follow, not to backbite.


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  CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER XVI THE PRAYER OF THE POOR, AND THE LOVING AND DESIRING TO DIE: AND OF THE PRAISING OF GOD'S CHARITY
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When the devout poor man is noyed on account of his defaults, he can, if he
will, pray and say: Lord my God, Jesu Christ, have mercy on me and vouchsafe to
behold the grievous yoke that is put upon my body, and therefore tarries not to
cast down my soul. My flesh truly fails in the griefs of this life; wherefore
also ghostly virtue is made weary. For all that I had in this world or of this
world is ended, and nought is left but that Thou lead my soul to another world
where my treasure is most precious and my substance richest, and unfailingly
abides. Wherefore I shall live without default; I shall joy without sorrow; I
shall love without irksomeness; and loving Thee, seeing Thee, and joying in
Thee, I shall be endlessly fed. Thou truly art my Treasure, and all the Desire
of my heart; and because of Thee I shall perfectly see Thee, for them I shall
have Thee. And I spake thus to death: O Death, where dwellest thou? Why comest
thou so late to me, living but yet mortal? Why halsest thou not him that desires
thee? Who is enough to think thy sweetness, that art the end of sighing, the
beginning of desire, the gate of unfailing yearning? Thou art the end of
heaviness, the mark of labours, the beginning of fruits, the gate of joys.
Behold I grow hot and desire after thee: if thou come I shall forthwith be safe.
Ravished, truly, because of love, I cannot fully love what I desire after, until
I taste the joy that Thou shalt give to me. If it behoves me, mortal -- because
forsooth it so befalls -- to pass through thee as all my fathers have gone, I
pray thee tarry not mickle; from me abide not long! Behold, I truly languish for
love; I desire to die; for thee I burn; and yet truly not for thee, but for my
Saviour Jesu, whom, after I have had thee, I trow to see withouten end. O Death,
how good is thy doom to needy man, whose soul, nevertheless, is made sweet by
love; to the man, forsooth, truly loving Christ and contemplating heavenly
things, and sweetly burned with the fire of the Holy Ghost. After death he is
taken soothly to songs of angels; because now being purged, and profiting, he
dwells in the music of the spirit. And in melody full marvellous shall he die,
the which when alive thought pithily upon that sweet Name; and with the
companies meeting him, with heavenly hymns and honour, he shall be taken into
the hall of the Eternal Emperor, being among heavenly dwellers in the seat of
the blessed. To this has charity truly brought him, that he should thus live in
inward delight, and should gladly suffer all that happens, and should think on
death, not with bitterness but with sweetness. Soothly then he trows himself
truly to live, when it is given him to pass from this light. O sweet Charity,
thou art plainly the dearest sweetness; that catchest and takest the mind to thy
love; and so clearly thou moistenest it that quickly thou makest it despise all
passing things and vain joys, and only to marvellously yearn after thy desires.
Thou hast come into me, and behold, all mine inward soul is fulfilled by the
sweetness of heavenly mirth, and plenteous in the fervour of ghostly joy.
Therefore, truly I long after love, the fairest of flowers, and I am inwardly
burned by the flame of fire. Would God I might go from the dwelling of this
exile! Thus it warms, man thinks not how, save that he feels solace in himself;
the heart singing ditties and taken captive with the charge of charity. Soothly
this that I thus receive is most merry, and I nearly die while it is thus made
steadfast with burning love. Now grant my best Beloved that I may cease; for
death, that many dread, shall be to me as heavenly music. Although I am sitting
in the wilderness, yet I am now as it were set stable in Paradise, and there
sweetly is sounding a loving song in the delights that my Love has given me.


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  CHAPTER 43: CHAPTER XVII HOW PERFECT LOVE IS GOTTEN BY CLEANNESS AND LOVE: AND OF IMPERFECT LOVE AND FAIRNESS, AND OF THREE MIGHTS OF GOD'S LOVE: AND OF THE RICH AND POOR: AND OF ALMS
========================================================================

From cleanness of conscience and plenteousness of ghostly gladness and inward
mirth, rises the song of joy and the burning of endless love in a mind loving
truly. No marvel that loving in this manner, love has been perfectly had, great
in desire, with a moving altogether dressed to God, and by no letting removed
from His love; withouten strife of vain thoughts, constantly cleaving to Christ;
in Jesu ever joying; from Him never distracted; with ill never moved; whom dead
flies never deceive or cast down from the sweetness of the ointment. The world,
the flesh, and the devil have none effect upon him, although they prick him; but
he treads them under his feet, setting their strength at nought. Withouten
seething he boils; he loves with great desire; he sings with sweetness; he
shines with heat; he is delighted in God without gainstanding; he contemplates
with unbroken upgoing. He vanquishes all things; he overcomes all things; of all
the things that he likes nothing seems to him impossible. Truly whiles any man
is busy to love Christ with all his strength he feels in himself, forsooth,
great sweetness of eternal life. We are turned truly to Christ if we strive to
love Him with our whole mind. Certain, so marvellous a Thing is God and so
liking to see, that I wonder that any man can be so mad and go out of the way
that he should take no heed to the sight of Him in his soul. Truly not he that
does great and many things is great; but he that loves God mickle is great, and
loved of God. Philosophers forsooth have travailed mickle, and yet without fruit
they have vanished. And many that seemed Christians have done great things and
showed forth marvels, and yet they were not worthy to be saved; for the
plenteousness of the heavenly crown is not for the doers, but for the lovers of
God. Lord Jesu, I ask Thee, give unto me movement in Thy love withouten measure;
desire withouten limit; longing withouten order; burning without discretion.
Truly the better the love of Thee is, the greedier it is; for neither by reason
is it restrained, nor by dread distressed, nor by doom tempted. No man shall
ever be more blest than he that for greatness of love can die. No creature truly
can love too mickle. In all other things all that is too mickle turns to vice,
but the more the strength of love surpasses the more glorious it shall be. The
lover truly languishes if he has not by him the likeness of that he loves.
Therefore it is said: Nunciate dilecto quia amore langueo, that is to say: Show
to my love that I languish for love.' As who should say: Because I see not that
I love, for love I wax slow also in body.' Forsooth turned to Christ with all my
heart, I am tied first by true penance, and so forsaking all things that long to
vanity, after the taste of ghostly sweetness, I shall be ravished to sing in
songful and godly praise. Whereof I say: Ego cantabo dilecto meo; and in the
psalm: In te cantatio mea semper. That is to say: To my love I shall sing'; and
in the psalm: In thee is ever my song.' No marvel that they therefore that thus
have lived in God's love, and sweetly have burned in inward flagrance withouten
dread, in death shall pass from this light, but truly with joy; and after death
ascend to the heavenly kingdoms. Therefore it is said of the flame of God's love
that it takes the mind to wound it. I am wounded by charity, and I am made to
languish for my love'; whereof it is said, Amore langueo, for love I languish';
and to moisten it, that it so goes out towards the Beloved that it forgets the
self and other things besides Christ. Therefore he says: Pone me ut signaculum
super cor tuum; that is to say: As a token set me on Thy heart.' What is love
but the transforming of desire into the thing loved? Or love is great desire for
the fair, the good, and lovely, with continuance of thought going in to that
thing that it loves, the which, when it has, then it joys; for joy is not caused
save by love. All those loving are truly made like to their love, and love makes
him that loves like to that that is loved. Truly neither God nor other creature
disdains or forsakes to be loved, but gladly all things say they would be loved,
and are gladdened by love. They are not heavy truly in loving unless they have
loved an unkind thing; or if they trow they can not have that thing they have
lovingly sought. This is never so in the love of God, but ofttimes this happens
in the love of the world or of woman. I dare not say that all love is good, for
that love that is more delighted in creatures than in the Maker of all things,
and sets the lust of earthly beauty before ghostly fairness, is ill and to be
hated; for it turns from eternal love and turns to temporal that can not last.
Yet peradventure it shall be the less punished; for it desires and joys more in
love and be loved than to defile or be defiled. The fairer a creature is, the
more lovable it is in the sight of all. Therefore some were wont busily to get
health from a shapely form rather than from a despised, which has many occasions
of bringing in ill. And nature teaches the fairer the thing, the more sweetly to
be loved. Nevertheless ordinate charity says the greater the good, the more it
is to be loved; for ilk fleshly beauty is as hay, lightly vanishing, but
godliness truly hides; and ofttimes God chooses the sick and despised of the
world, and forsakes the strong and fair. Wherefore it is said in the psalm:
Tradidit in captivitatem virtutem eorum, et pulcritudinem eorum in manus
inimici; that is to say: Their strength has he given to bondage, and their
fairness into the hands of their enemies.' And in another place: Habens fiduciam
in pulcritudine tua, fornicata es; that is in English: Having trust in thy
fairness, thou hast done fornication.' It is of love also to melt the mind; as
it is written: Anima mea liquefacta est, ut dilectus locutus est; that is to
say: My soul was molten as my Love spake.' Truly sweet and devout love melts the
heart in God's sweetness, so that the will of man is made one with the will of
God in wonderful friendship. In which onehood such sweetness of liking heat and
song is inshed into a loving soul, how great the feeler cannot tell. Love
forsooth has strength in spreading, in knitting, and turning. In spreading,
truly: for it spreads the beams of its goodness not only to friends and
neighbours, but also to enemies and strangers. In knitting truly: for it makes
lovers one in deed and will; and Christ and every holy soul it makes one. He
truly that draws to God is one spirit, not in nature but in grace, and in
onehood of will. Love has also a turning strength, for it turns the loving into
the loved, and ingrafts him. Wherefore the heart that truly receives the fire of
the Holy Ghost is burned all wholly and turns as it were into fire; and it leads
it into that form that is likest to God. Else had it not been said: Ego dixi dii
estis et filii Excelsi omnes; that is to say: I have said ye are gods, and are
all the children of the high God.'Forsooth some men have so loved each other
that they nearly trowed there were but one soul in them both. Truly the man poor
in worldly goods, though he is rich in mind, is far from such love. It were
marvel truly if he that behoves ever to take and seldom or never can give, had a
friend in the which he might trust in all things. By others, therefore, trowed
unworthy of true love, he has a steadfast friend, Christ; and of Him he can
faithfully ask whatsoever he will. Truly where man's help fails, without doubt
God's is near.Nevertheless it were more profitable to the rich if he chose a
holy poor man to his special friend, with whom he would share in common and
gladly give him all that he had, yea more than the poor wills, and love him
affectionately as his best and kindest friend. Therefore Christ said unto the
rich, Make you friends,' meaning, forsooth, the holy poor who are God's friends;
and gladly God gives to the true lovers of such poor, for their love, the joys
of Paradise. Soothly I trow that such rich should be well pleased with their
friendship! But the verse now is true that saith: Pontus erit siccus cum pauper
habebit amicum; The sea shall be dry when a poor man has a friend.'Some rich
soothly I have found giving as they thought their meat to the holy poor, who
would not give clothing or other necessaries, trowing it were enough if they
gave but meat; and so they make themselves half friends, or in part; caring no
more for the friendship of the good poor than of the evil poor. And all things
of any price that might be given, they save for themselves and their children.
And so the holy poor are holden no more to them but as they are to others of
their good-doers, that give them clothes or other goods. And yet, what is worse,
the poor seem a full great burden to the rich.


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  CHAPTER 44: CHAPTER XVIII OF THE PRAISE AND MIGHT OF CHARITY: AND OF FORSAKING THE WORLD: AND OF THE WAY OF PENANCE TO BE TAKEN
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Charity is the queen of virtues; the fairest star; the beauty of the soul that
does all these things in the soul: that is to say, it wounds her; makes her
languish; moistens, melts and makes fair; it gladdens and enflames; whose
ordinate deed is full fair habit. It behoves without doubt that all virtue, if
it be truly called virtue, be rooted in charity. No virtue can be truly held
that has not been set in God's love. Soothly he who multiplies virtues and good
deeds without God's love, casts as it were precious stones into a bottomless
privy. Shown it is and known that all deeds that men do help not in the end to
get health, if they be not done in the charity of God and of their neighbour.
Wherefore, since it is charity only that makes us blessed, we ought to desire
rather to lose our life than in mind, or mouth, or deed, defile charity. In this
the strivers with sin joy; in this the overcomers are crowned. Truly ilk
Christian is imperfect that cleaves with love to earthly riches, or is joined to
any worldly solace; for he forsakes not all that he has, without which no man
can come to perfection. When any man truly desires to love God perfectly, he
studies to do away all things, inward as well as outward, that are contrary to
God's love and let from His love. And that a man may do that truly he has great
business, for he shall suffer great strifes in doing it; afterwards truly he
shall find sweetest rest in that that he seeks. We have heard truly that the way
is strait that leads to life. This is the way of penance that few find, the
which therefore is called strait; for by it, and it be right, the flesh is
stripped from unlawful solace of the world, and the soul is restrained from
shrewd pleasure and unclean thoughts, and is only dressed to the love of God.
But this is seldom found in men, for nearly none savour that which belongs to
God: but they seek earthly joy and in that they are delighted, wherefore
following their bodily appetite, and despising their ghostly, they forsake all
the ways that are healthful to their soul, and they abhor them as strait, sharp,
and unable to be borne by their lust. Nevertheless every mortal man ought to
consider that he will never come to the heavenly kingdom by the way of riches
and fleshly liking and lust, since, forsooth, it is written of Christ: Quod
oportuit Christum pati, et ita intrare in gloriam suam; that is to say: that
Christ behoved to suffer and so enter His joy.' If we be members of our Head,
Jesu Christ, we shall follow Him; and if we love Christ, it behoves us go as He
has gone; else are we not His members, for from the Head we are divided. Truly
if we be sundered from Him, it is greatly to be dreaded, for then are we joined
to the fiend, and in the last doom Christ is to say: I have not known you.' He,
truly, by a noyous gate and strait way entered to heaven; how should we, that
are wretches and sinners, be made rich by the poor, and feed our lust with
unlawful things and flatteries of this world, and all vanity and softness of
flesh and desire for delight, and nevertheless reign with Christ in the life to
come? Christ when He was rich for us became poor; and when we are poor there is
nothing that we so mickle covet as to be or seem plenteous. Christ when He was
Lord of all is become the Servant of all: and we, whiles we are unprofitable and
unworthy servants, yet would we be lords of all. He, when He was great God, is
become a meek Man; and we, when we are sick and simple men, because of pride we
raise ourselves in as mickle as if we were gods. He was conversant with men that
He might raise us to the heavens; and we through all our life desire earthly
things. Therefore it is shown that we love Him not, for we will not meek our
will to His; nor busy we to fulfill what ilk day we ask, saying: Fiat voluntas
tua sicut in coelo et in terra; 'Thy will be done as in heaven and in earth.' In
vain forsooth such men trow to receive the heritage with them that are chosen;
for they are not partners of Christ's gainbuying, the which, by their wicked and
unclean works, despise the blood by which we are gainbought, and freely yield
themselves to the bondage of the fiend.


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  CHAPTER 45: CHAPTER XIX OF FAIRNESS OF MIND: VANITY OF THE WORLD: LOVE OF GOD: AND UNION WITH OUR NEIGHBOUR: AND WHETHER PERFECT LOVE CAN BE LOST AND GOTTEN IN THIS WAY
========================================================================

If thou be gladdened in fairness know it well, for the fairness of thy mind
shall make thee beloved of the highly Fair if for love of Him only thou keepest
it undefiled. Soothly the corruptible flesh with all its beauty is full feeble
and to be despised, because, soon passing, it beguiles all its lovers. Therefore
the virtue of our life stands in this: that vanity being despised and spurned,
we cleave unpartingly to truth. All earthly things which are desired on earth
are vain; true soothly are the heavenly and eternal which can not be seen. Ilk
Christian man in this shows himself truly chosen of God, that he sets these
earthly things at nought; his desires are altogether spread in God, and he
receives thereof a privy sound of love that no man umbelapped with worldly
desires knows, being wretchedly withdrawn from the savour of heavenly joy. But
no marvel that the shining soul, utterly intent to the love of the everlasting
and inwardly desiring Christ, is wont to have his heart's capacity fulfilled
with plenteousness of sweetness; so that in this flesh made merry, as it were
with angels' life, they are gladdened with songful mirth. Therefore if our love
be pure and perfect, whatever our heart loves it is God. Truly if we love
ourself, and all other creatures that are to be loved, only in God and for God,
what other in us and in them love we but Him? For when our God truly is loved by
us with a whole heart and all virtue, then, without doubt, our neighbour and all
that is to be loved, is most rightly loved. If therefore we shed forth our heart
before God and in the love of God being bound with Him, and holden with God,
what more is there by which we can love any other creature? Truly in the love of
God is the love of my neighbour. Therefore as he that loves God knows not but to
love man, so he that truly knows to love Christ is proved to love nothing in
himself but God. Also all that we are loved by and love -- all to God the Well
of love we yield: because He commands that all the heart of man be given to
Himself. All desires also, and all movings of the mind, He desires be fastened
in Him. He forsooth that truly loves God feels nothing in his heart but God, and
if he feel none other thing nought else has he; but whatso he has he loves for
God, and he loves nought but that God wills he should love; wherefore nothing
but God he loves and so all his love is God. Forsooth the love of this man is
true, for he conforms himself to his Maker, the which has wrought all things for
Himself; and so he loves all things for God. Soothly when the love of the
everlasting is truly kindled in our souls, without doubt all vanity of this
world and all fleshly love is held but as foulest filth; and whiles the soul is
given to continual devotion, she desires nothing but the pleasance of the Maker.
Marvellously she burns in herself with the fire of love, that, slowly profiting
and growing in ghostly good, henceforth she falls not into the slippery way and
the broad that leads to death, but rather, raised up by a heavenly fire, she
goes and ascends into contemplative life. Truly contemplative life is not
perfectly gotten of any man in this vale of tears, even a little, unless first
his heart is inflamed from its depths with the torches of eternal love so that
he feels it burn with the fire of love, and his conscience he knows molten with
heavenly sweetness. So no marvel a man is truly made contemplative whiles both
tasting sweetness and feeling burning he nearly dies for the greatness of love.
And therefore he is fastened in the halsing, as it were bodily, of endless love;
for contemplating unceasingly with all his desire, he busies him to go up to see
that undescried light. Forsooth such a man knows to grant no comfort in his soul
but God's, in whose love now languishing to the end of his life he is made to
desire, crying grievously with the psalmist: Quando veniam et apparebo ante
faciem Dei? that is to say: When shall I come and appear before the face of my
God?' This is perfect love. But it may not incongrously be asked whether this
standing in love, once had, may at any time be lost. Truly whiles man can sin he
can lose charity; but not to be able to sin belongs not to the state of this way
but to the country above: wherefore ilk man, howsoever holy he be in this life,
yet he can sin and mortally; for the dregs of sin are fully slakened in no
pilgrim of this life after common law. Truly if there were any such the which
neither desire nor could be tempted, they should belong to the state of heaven
rather than of this way; nor were it of meed to them not to default, whiles they
can not sin. I wot not if any such be living anywhere in flesh for, I speak for
myself, the flesh desires against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh;
and after the inward man I am glad in God's law, but I know not yet so mickle
love that I could utterly slake all fleshly desire. Nevertheless I trow that
there is a degree of perfect love, the which whosoever attains he shall never
afterwards lose. For truly it is one thing to be able to lose, and another alway
to hold, what he will not leave although he can. The perfect truly abstain
themselves, as mickle as in them is, from ilk thing by which their perfection
can be destroyed or else let. Truly with the freeness of their choice they are
fulfilled with the grace of God, with which they are busily stirred to love, to
speak and do good; and they are withdrawn from ill of heart, mouth, and work.
When a man is therefore perfectly turned to Christ he despises all passing
things, and he fastens himself immovably to the desire only of his Maker, as far
as he is let by mortality because of the corruption of the flesh. Then no
marvel, manly using his might, first the heaven as it were being opened, with
the eye of his understanding he beholds the citizens of heaven; and afterward he
feels sweetest heat as it were a burning fire. Then he is imbued with marvellous
sweetness, and henceforth he is joyed by a songly noise. This therefore is
perfect charity, which no man knows but he that receives it; and he that has
received never leaves it: sweetly he lives, and sickerly shall he die.


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  CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER XX OF THE PROFIT AND WORTHINESS OF PRAYER AND MEDITATION
========================================================================

Constant prayer helps mickle to get and hold to this stableness of mind; for if
it be grounded in mind it undoes the might of fiends. Though God truly knows all
things, and before we ask anything He knows perfectly what we will ask, yet we
ought to pray for many causes. Because Christ gave example to us to pray when He
nighted alone on the hill in prayer. And because it is the commandment of the
Apostle, Sine intermissione orate. Oportet enim orare, et non deficere.
Withouten ceasing pray ye. Soothly it behoves to pray, and not to fail.' Also
that we may be worthy of grace in this life, and joy in time to come: wherefore
Ask and ye shall receive. He that asks receives, and to the caller it shall be
opened.' Also because the angels offer our prayers to God to help their
fulfillment. Truly thoughts and desires are bare and open only to God; yet
angels know when saints think worthy and holy things and are inflamed greatly
with the love of eternal life, by God's showing and by the experience of their
outward deeds, because they see them serve God only. Wherefore the angel said to
Daniel: Vir desideriorum es. 'A man thou art of desires.' Also because by the
continuance of prayer the soul is burnt with the fire of God's love; our Lord
truly says by His prophet: Nonne verba mea quasi ignis, et quasi malleus
conterens petras? 'Are not my words as burning fire, and as a mallet breaking
stones?' The psalm also says: Ignitum eloquium tuum vehementer; 'thy speech is
hugely burned.' But there are many now that forthwith cast out the word of God
from the mouth and heart, not suffering it there to rest in them; and therefore
they are not burnt with the heat of comfort but bide cold in sloth and
negligence, even after innumerable prayers and meditation of scripture, because
forsooth they neither pray nor meditate in mind; whiles others that put back all
sloth are within a short while greatly burned, and in Christ's love full strong.
Therefore it follows full well: Et servus tuus dilexit illud; that is to say:
And Thy servant has loved it.' Therefore truly is he burned because Thy word,
Lord, he loved; that is to say to ponder, and after it to work. Thee he has
sought sooner than Thine, and has received of Thee both Thee and Thine. Others
serve Thee in order to have Thine and for Thee they care little. Truly they
feign they would be under Thy service, to get worldly honour and to seem
glorious among men; but whiles they joy to have found a few things, they lose
many; because of Thee and Thine, and themselves and theirs. It also behoves us
to pray that we may be saved; therefore James warns, saying: Orate pro invicem
ut salvemini, 'Pray for yourselves, that ye be saved.' Also that we be not made
slow, and that we be continually occupied in good: therefore it is said:
Vigilate et orate ne intretis in temptationem, that is to say: Wake ye and pray,
that ye enter not into temptation.' Truly we ought ever to pray or read or
meditate, with other profitable deeds, that our enemy never find us idle. But it
must be taken heed to with all busyness that we wake in prayer, that is to say
not be lulled by vain thoughts that withdraw the mind and make it forget whither
it is bound and alway let, if they can, to overcome the effect of devotion; the
which the mind of the pray-er would perceive if he prayed with wakefulness,
busyness and desire.


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  CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER XXI THAT CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE IS WORTHIER AND MEEDFULLER THAN ACTIVE: AND OF BOTH PRELACY AND PREACHING
========================================================================

By some truly it is doubted which life is more meedful and better; contemplative
or active. It seems to not a few that active is meedfuller because of the many
deeds and preachings that it uses. But these err unknowingly, for they know not
the virtue of contemplative. Yet there are many active better than some
contemplative; but the best contemplative are higher than the best active.
Therefore we say the contemplative life is altogether the better, the sweeter,
the more worthy, and the more meedful as to the true meed, that is joy of the
unwrought good, because the contemplative more burningly loves God. And more
grace is asked if contemplative life be led rightly, than active. The reason of
more fervent love in contemplative life than in active is because in
contemplative they are in rest of mind and body, and therefore they taste the
sweetness of eternal, before all mortal love. The active truly serve God in
labour and outward running about, and tarry but little in inward rest, wherefore
they can not be delighted save seldom and shortly; the contemplative soothly
love as if they were continually within the halsing of their Beloved. Forsooth
some gainsetting say: active life is more fruitful; for it does works of mercy,
it preaches and works other such deeds; wherefore it is more meritorious. I say,
nay, for such works belong to accidental reward, that is, joy of the thing
wrought. And so one that shall be taken into the order of angels can have some
meed that he that shall be in the order of cherubim or seraphim shall not have;
that is to say joy of some good deed that he did in this life, the which another
-- that without comparison surpasses in God's love -- did not. Also ofttimes it
happens that some one of less meed is good, and preaches; and another preaches
not, that mickle more loves. Is not this one better because he preaches? No; but
the one that loves more is higher and better, although he be less in preaching
he shall have some meed, because he preached not, that the greater was not
worthy of. Therefore it is shown that man is not holier or higher for the
outward works that he does. Truly God that is the Beholder of the heart rewards
the will more than on the deeds. For the more burningly that a man loves, in so
mickle he ascends to a higher reward. Truly, in true contemplative men, there is
a full sweet heat and the plenteousness of God's love abiding, from the which a
joyful sound is sent into them with untrowed mirth; and this is never found in
active men in this life, because they take not heed only to heavenly things, so
that they might be worthy to joy in Jesu. And therefore active life is worthily
put behind; and contemplative life, in this present and in the life to come is
worthily preferred. Wherefore in the litter of the true Solomon the pillars are
of silver and the resting place of gold. The pillars of the chair are the strong
upbearers and the good governors of holy kirk; these are of silver, for in
conversation they are clear and in preaching full of sound. The gold resting
place are contemplative men; on the which, being in high rest, Christ especially
rests His Head, and they forsooth in Him singularly rest. These are of gold, for
they are purer and dearer in honesty of living, and are redder in burning of
loving and contemplating. God forsooth has forordained His chosen to fulfill
divers services. It is not given truly to ilk man to execute or fulfill all
offices, but ilk man has that that is most according to his state. Wherefore the
Apostle says: Unicuique nostrum data est gracia secundum mensuram donationis
Christi; that is to say: To ilk one of us is grace given after the measure of
Christ's gift.' Some truly do alms of righteously gotten goods; others to their
death defend the truth; others clearly and strongly preach God's word, and
others show their preaching in their writing; others suffer for God great
penance and wretchedness in this life; others, by the gift of contemplation, are
only busy to God and set themselves straitly to love Christ. But without doubt,
among all estates that are in the kirk, they that are become contemplative joy
with a special gift; they are now worthy with singing to joy in God's love.
Truly if any man might get both lives, that is to say contemplative and active,
and keep and fulfill them, he were full great; that he might fulfill bodily
service, and nevertheless feel the heavenly sound in himself, and be melted in
singing into the joy of heavenly love. I wot not if ever any mortal man had
this. To me it seems impossible that both should be together. Christ truly in
this respect is not to be numbered among men, nor His blest Mother among women.
For Christ had no wandering thoughts, and He was not contemplative in a common
manner, as saints in this life are contemplative; truly He needed not to labour
as we need, because, from the beginning of His Conceiving, He saw God. No marvel
by great exercise of ghostly works there comes into us a songful joy, and we
receive the sweetest sound from heaven; and so henceforward we desire to stand
in rest, that with great sweetness we may joy. Therefore he that serves active
life well is busy to go up to contemplative life.He who truly is raised in the
manner aforesaid with the gift of heavenly contemplation, comes not down to
active; unless peradventure he be compelled to take governance of Christians;
that I trow has seldom or never happened. But other contemplatives can well be
chosen for that, because they are less imbued with heat of love. Forsooth lesser
saints are sometimes more able than greater for the office of prelacy, because
they that could not rest perfectly in inward desires shall behave themselves
more accordingly about outward business.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 48: CHAPTER XXII THE BURNING OF LOVE PURGES VICES AND SINS: AND OF THE TOKENS OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP
========================================================================

The burning of love truly taken into a soul purges all vices; it voids both too
mickle and too little, and plants the beauty of all virtues. It never stands
with deadly sin, and if it do with venial yet nevertheless the moving and desire
of love in God can be so burning that they waste all venial sins, without also
thinking in deed of these same venial sins: for whilst the true lover is borne
to God with strong and fervent desire, all things displease him that withdraw
him from the sight of God. Truly whiles he is gladdened by songly joy, his heart
may not express what he feels of heavenly things, and therefore he languishes
for love. Perfect men also never bear what may be burned to the life to come,
for in the heat of Christ's love all their sins are wasted. But lest any man
ween himself perfect in vain when he is not, let him hear when a man has
perfection in himself. This truly is the life of the Perfect: to cast away all
charge of worldly errands; to forsake father and mother and all thy goods for
Christ; to despise all passing goods, for endless life; to destroy worldly
desires with long labour; as far as it is possible to refrain from lechery and
all unlawful movings; to burn only in the love of our Maker; after bitter
sorrows and surpassing busyness in ghostly works, to feel the sweetness of
heavenly contemplation: and so, I speak of men privileged, for the joy of God's
love, to be taken by contemplation into ghostly song or heavenly sound, and to
bide sweetly in inward rest, all disturbances being put aback, in so mickle that
whiles it is lawful to the man of God to work nothing outward, he is taken
within to sing the sweetness of eternal love in songs of delight and unmeasured
mirth. Thus, no marvel that he shall have sweetness in mind such as the angels
have in heaven; although not so mickle. Soothly in this wise is man made
perfect; and he shall not need to be purged with fire after this life, who,
being in the flesh, burns burningly with the fire of the Holy Ghost. And yet
this perfect love makes not a man ay not to sin, but that sin lasts not in him
but is wasted forthwith by the fire of love. Truly such a lover of Jesus Christ
says not his prayers like other righteous men, for, set in righteous mind, and
ravished above himself by the love of Christ, he is taken into marvellous mirth,
and a goodly sound is shed into him, so that he as it were sings his prayers
with notes; also offering with his mouth melody that, though hidden from human
sense, is full bright to God and to himself. Strength and ghostly virtue have
now truly so mickle overcome in him heaviness of the flesh that he can be ay
glad in Christ; whose heart, turned into fire of love, feels verily heavenly
heat, so that he can scarcely with life bear the greatness of such burning love.
But the goodness of God keeps him until the time ordained; the which gave it him
that he so mickle, might love, and truly say, I languish for love.' As the
Seraphim burned, he burns and loves; he signs and joys, he praises and grows
warm; and the more pleasing he is, the hotter he burns in love. He not only
dreads not death, but he is glad to die with the Apostle: Mihi, inquit, Christus
vivere vita est, et mori gaudium, that is to say: Christ to me is life; and to
die great joy'; etc.


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  CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER XXIII THAT PERFECT LOVE MINGLES NOTHING WITH GOD: AND WHY. AND THAT IT IS NEEDFUL TO LOVE: AND OF THE BLINDNESS OF FLESHLY LOVE
========================================================================

If we perfectly forsake the filth of sins and the vices of this world, we love
nothing but God. How truly should God be all in all if anything were in man
beside His love? No man truly has joy unless he loves the good. The more
therefore that a man loves God, no marvel the more plenteously he shall joy in
Him; because the more busily and fervently we desire anything, it being gotten,
the more heartily we joy. Therefore truly has a man joy because he has God; and
God truly is that Joy: the which forsooth none of them have that seek anything
besides God. For if I desire anything for myself, and I set not my God as the
end of that desire, sicker it is that I have made a traitor of myself, and my
hidden guilt is openly shown. God truly will be loved in this wise: that no man
be mingled with Him in His love. For if thou dividest thy heart and dreadest not
to love another thing with Him, without doubt know well that thy love is
forsaken of God; the which vouchsafes not for to behold a part of love. All the
whole truly or nought He takes; for He gainbought the whole. For in the sin of
Father Adam forsooth thy body and thy soul were damned; wherefore God is come
down into a Maiden's body and become man, and has given the price of thy
deliverance, that not only He might deliver thy soul from the power of the
fiends, but also He might make thy body with thy soul blessed at the end of the
world. Therefore thou hast the commandments of eternal life. If thou wilt enter
the kingdom, lost, and after reparalled with Christ's blood, it behoves thee to
keep God's commandments. And truly as thou desirest after thy death to ascend
into full and perfect joy, so it behoves thee in this life to have mind to love
God with a whole and perfect heart. Else as now thou art not given to God's
love, so then not perfect joy but endless torment shalt thou have. For truly
whiles thou takest not heed to thy Maker with whole love and mind, thou art
proved soothly to love some creature of God more than is honest or lawful. A
soul can not be reasonable without love whiles it is in this life: wherefore the
love thereof is the foot of the soul, by which, after this pilgrimage, it is
borne to God or the fiend; that it may be subject to him whose will here it
served. Nothing truly can be loved but for the goodness that it has, or else
seems that it has, and which is either in the loved or certainly thought to be
in that that is loved. Herefore truly it is that lovers of bodily beauty or
worldly riches are beguiled as it were by witchcraft; for delight is not those
things the which we think we feel or see, nor the joy that is feigned, nor the
good name that we give it. No man therefore more damnably forgets his soul than
he that sets his eye on woman for lechery; truly whilst the sight of the eye
kindles the soul, anon from the things seen thought enters and engenders desire
in the heart, and defiles the inward beauty. Wherefore suddenly with burning of
a noyous fire it is umbelapped and blinded, that it may not see the sentence of
the strait Judge. And thus the soul, taken from heavenly sight by evil and
unclean love, stints not to show tokens of her error; and unless she may bring
forth the filth that is conceived, she mistrusts of her prosperity. Filth
forsooth she conceived, that is to say wicked desire; thereby shall wickedness
worthily be brought forth, because the soul the sooner slides to slippery lust
inasmuch as she takes no heed to the great peril in which she errs. The dooms of
God are withdrawn also from her face. Whiles truly she begins to take pleasure
in fleshly desires, she sees not into how great a pit of wretchedness she casts
herself. Soothly the doom of God is that he who wilfully despised God, casting
himself down into deadly sin, shall, God deeming, unwillingly be damned after
this life. In the time to come truly he can not defend himself from the pains of
hell, that, set in this life, would not, when he could, with all his power
forsake deadly sins, and wholly hate all wickedness.


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  CHAPTER 50: CHAPTER XXIV OF THE STINK OF LECHERY AND THE PERIL OF TOUCHING: AND OF THE CURSEDNESS OF COVETOUSNESS: AND OF UNGODLY GLADNESS
========================================================================

Whiles a man weds not for pure love of God and virtue and chastity, but is busy
to live in chastity and in array of all virtue, doubtless he gets to himself a
great name in heaven; for as he ceases not to love God here, so in heaven he
shall never cease from His praising. Wedlock soothly is good in itself; but when
men constrain themselves under the band of matrimony for the fulfilling of their
lust, they turn forsooth good into ill, and whereby they ween to profit, thereof
they cease not to be worse. Whosoever loves wedlock for this intent, because by
it he trows he may be rich, is, without doubt, busy to loose the bridle of
wantonness; and overflowing in lust and riches, he joys full mickle to have
found medicine for his slippery flesh. There are forsooth froward men that love
their wives unmannerly for their beauty; and the sooner their bodily strength is
broken the more loose are they to fulfill their bodily lust. For the more lust
they have the sooner they fail, and whiles they have prosperity they perish; and
whiles they are busy to be fed with lust, they wretchedly lose strength of body
and mind. Nothing soothly is more perilous, fouler and more stinking for man
than to put his mind on woman's love, and desire her as blissful rest. No marvel
what before he desired with mickly anguish as great bliss, after the deed
straightway waxes foul. Afterward he knows truly that he has cowardly gone wrong
in such lust, when he perceives lust so short and diseases long. For it is shown
that he was strongly bound with a foul band of feeble vanity. But because he
would not turn to God with all his heart, he knew not his wretchedness until the
time he felt it; and therefore he fell into the pit of bondage, because he
beheld not the seat of joy. If truly he had felt one drop of the sweetness of
eternal life, never should fleshly fairness -- that is beguiling and vain grace
-- have appeared so sweet to his mind. But alas! he takes no heed how stinking
and odious is his wretched lust in the sight of God Almighty, and in his
conscience he sees not himself beguiled. No man certainly can be given to
uncleanness of the flesh unless he err from the ways of righteousness. Truly
whiles the fire of earthly love ceases not to inflame man's mind, no marvel it
wastes in it all the moisture of grace, and making it both void and dry, it
alway increases its heat; and from the fire of covetousness kindles the fire of
lechery. And so the thrall soul, marvellously mazed, covets nothing but fleshly
desires, or to increase riches, and making his end in them, labours always to
get new things; and he sees not those pains that he goes to because he cared not
for God's words and His commandments. And because he desires only these outward
joys, and is blinded to the inward and unseen, as it were sightless he goes to
the fire. And truly when the unhappy soul shall pass from the body, she shall
know perfectly in the Judgment how wretched she was; the which trowed herself,
whiles she was in the flesh, not only guiltless, but also happy. In ilk thing
therefore cleanness of mind more than of body is to be cared for; for certain it
is less wicked to touch the flesh of woman with bare hands than to be defiled
with wicked lust in mind. Truly if we touch women and think nothing evil in
heart it ought not to be called sin, although through it temptation of the flesh
sometimes arises; for man falls not into evil whiles his mind is steadfast in
God. Whiles the heart of the toucher is caught by divers desires, or is bowed in
evil sweetness, and he is not straightway refrained by the love of God and
steadfastness in virtue, know without doubt that that man has the sin of
uncleanness within himself, though he be never so far not only from women but
also from men. And forsooth if a true man be untied with an untrue woman, it is
full near that his mind be turned to untruth. Truly it is the manner of women
that when they feel themselves loved out of measure by men, they beguile men's
hearts by cherishing flattery; and they draw to those things that their wicked
will stirred up, the which before they assayed by open speech. Solomon soothly
was wise and true to God for a while, but afterward, for the too mickle love by
which he drew to women, he failed most foully in steadfastness and in the
commandments of God; the more worthy to be grievously smitten in that he, set in
great wisdom, suffered himself to be overcome by a fond woman. Let no man
therefore flatter himself, and no man presume to say of himself I am sicker, I
do not dread, the world can not beguile me,' whilst thou hearest of the wisest
man the unwittest deed. Covetousness is also ghostly fornication; for the
covetous heart, for the love of peace, opens his bosom to the strumpetry of the
fiend. When God was loved before the love of money, as very Spouse, and
afterward He is forsaken because of unclean love and wicked wooers received,
what else is done but fornication and idolatry? Be we therefore busy to keep our
hearts clean in the sight of God Almighty, and to destroy venomous delectations;
and if anything have been done in our heart by frailty, let nothing now be shown
before God but perfectness. Sometimes truly we are hated by some men for mickle
mirth, and sometimes we joy in words and laughter, and although this, and more
such, may be done with a clean soul before God, nevertheless before men we know
well it is taken and expounded ill; and therefore moderation is to be had; and
that we keep ourselves wisely nor place ourselves where we trow we can do ought
that is like evil. It is good for the servants of Christ to be near God, because
in desire for Him they receive the heat of the fire of the Holy Ghost; and they
sing the sweetness of endless love with sweetest heavenly sound like to honey.
Wherefore melliflui facti sunt coeli: that is to say: the heavens are made sweet
as honey,' that is to mean: saints that so burningly have loved Christ, knowing
that He has suffered so mickle for them. Whence truly the minds of the saints
are knitted to endless love, unable to be loosed; and although ravished as it
were by the sweetness of heavenly life, by a melody as it were felt before, are
gladdened in that.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 51: CHAPTER XXV OF PERFECT LOVE: AND WHAT MUST BE HAD FOR GHOSTLY JOY: AND OF LOVE AND CORRECTION
========================================================================

Excellence of meed stands in greatness of love; so that a lover burns with ever
burning fire and is fulfilled within with heavenly sweetness. He truly that
loves most shall be set highest in heaven. For this love is in the heart, and
the more it loves God the more joy it feels in itself. They err therefore that
but seldom and shortly have the joy of love, and that trow they love as mickle
as he that is fed, as it were all day, with the sweetness of love. Some truly
love with difficulty and some with ease, but the love of God is the more blessed
in that it be light; the lighter, the heartier; the quicker, the sweeter; the
sweeter, the more. Truly it is greater in resters than in labourers; therefore
they that continually rest and fervently love are higher than they that some
time take heed to rest, and some time to other occupations. Nothing truly is
better than love, nothing sweeter than holy charity. For to be loved and to love
is a sweet change; the delight of all man's life, and of angel's, and of God's;
and also the meed of all blessedness. If therefore thou desirest to be loved,
love; for love gainyields itself. No man has ever lost by good love who keeps in
view the end of love. Soothly he that knows not to burn in love knows not to be
glad. Therefore never is a man more blessed than he that is borne without
himself by the might of love, and by the greatness of God's love receives within
himself a songful sweetness of everlasting praising. But this happens not anon
to every man; but when a man, turned to God, marvellously exercises himself and
has cast away all desire for worldly vanity; then God sheds into His lovers that
unspoken praising. The mind truly disposed to cleanness, receives from God the
thought of eternal love; and soothly clean thought rises up to ghostly song.
Clearness of heart, certain, is worthy to have heavenly sound; and so that God's
praising should bide in ghostly joy, the soul is warmed with God's fire, and is
gladdened with full marvellous delight. But although a man forsake the world
perfectly; and busily take heed to prayer, waking, and fasting; and have
cleanness of conscience, so that he desire to die for heavenly joy, and to be
dissolved and be with Christ; unless his mind be fully knit unto Christ, and it
lasts in desires and thoughts of love -- the which are certain and endlessly
intent -- and which thoughts, wherever he be, sitting or going, he meditates
within himself without ceasing, desiring nothing but Christ's love; he else
soothly receives not the heavenly sound, nor in ghostly song shall he sing JESU,
nor His praise, in mind or mouth. Pride forsooth destroys many; when they trow
they have done aught that others have not, anon they bear themselves before
others, and they that are better than themselves they put behind. But, know it
well, he himself knows not love that presumes to despise common nature in his
brother; for he does wrong to his own condition that knows not his right in
another. He that honours not the community of nature in his neighbour, defiles
the law of man's fellowship. In this many men err from the love of God, nor know
they how to come to His love because they study not to love their brother as
they are bound. And soothly they either leave the sinner uncorrected, or if they
correct or rebuke the sinner, with so great sharpness and fierceness they speak
that oft they that they snib are made, by their words, worse than they are.
Truly with meekness they should speak, that by sweet words they might win those
that sharp correcting would make worse.


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  CHAPTER 52: CHAPTER XXVI OF THE SIGHINGS, DESIRE, AND MEEKNESS OF A PERFECT LOVER: AND OF THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WORLDLY LOVE AND GODLY: AND ALSO OF MEDITATION
========================================================================

The voice of the soul languishing with endless love bears the likeness of the
seeker of His Maker, saying: Osculetur me osculo oris sui; that is to say: the
Godhead might glad me with knitting me to His Son.' Therefore for love I long;
because whom I love with all my mind I desire to see in His fairness. In the
meanwhile, truly, in the labour and strife of my pilgrimage, I beseech He make
me glad with sweetness of His love; and unto the time I can clearly see my
Beloved, I shall think of His full sweet Name, holding it, joying, in my mind.
And no marvel that he be glad thereof in this life that has lust ever to fulfill
the desires of His Maker. Nothing is merrier than JESU to sing, nothing more
delightful than JESU to hear. Hearing it truly mirths the mind; and song uplifts
it. And truly, whiles I want this, sighing, and heavy as it were with hunger and
thirst, think myself forsaken. Forsooth when I feel the halsing and kissing of
my Love, with untold delight as it were I overflow; whom true lovers, for love
only of His unmeasured goodness, set before all things. Coming therefore into
me, He comes inshedding perfect love. My heart also He refreshes, giving
continuance; He warms me, and also makes fat, all lettings to love putting away.
Who then shall say that he must fall into stinking uncleanness of flesh, whom
Christ has vouchsafed to fulfill with the sweetness of heavenly contemplation.
Therefore henceforward it is sung: Laetabimur in te, memores uberum tuorum super
vinnum. As who says: We desire to worship and joy in Thee; in Thy gladness we
are merry, forsaking the lust and riches of worldly vanity, the which so beguile
their lovers, that they know not the noy they suffer. And although we may not
yet see Thy face, nevertheless so hotly we desire Thee, that though we should
live for ever we should seek none other love.' For the longer we live the hotter
we desire Thee, and the more joy we feel in Thy love, and painfully we hasten to
Thee; for to Thy lovers noyous things pass, and mirth in ghostliness follows.
That soul truly good JESU that loves Thee, would rather choose to suffer a
horrible death than consent to any sin. Nor soothly does he love Christ
perfectly that dreads any but Christ; whiles all things turn to good to God's
lovers. Perfect love overcomes pain, and also threats, because it feels no dread
of any creature; it puts away all pride, and meekly gives stead to ilk thing;
whereof it is said: Recti diligunt te, that is: Righteous men love Thee.' The
righteous are the meek, loving truly, forgetting nothing, and though they stand
in high perfection they behave themselves most meekly in mind and deed. And so
ilk true lover may say within himself; Ilk man passes me in despising the world,
and hate of sin; in desire for the heavenly kingdom; in sweetness and heat of
Christ's love, and brotherly charity: some flourish in virtue, some shine in
miracles; some are raised by the gift of heavenly contemplation; and some seek
the secrets of scripture. When I behold the worthy life of so many, methinks I
am as right nought, and among all others lowest. Therefore the righteous flee
full fast all earthly encumbrances, only drawing unto everlasting joys; in
desire for all temporal things they greatly fail, and they rise with a high
desire in God's love. And it is worthily said they love God; for going in the
right way and the plain of shining charity, they seek nor savour nothing but
Christ. To whose contraries it is said by the psalmist: Obsurentur oculi corum
ne videant, et dorsum corum semper incurva; that is to say: Their eyes be dim
that they see not, and their back bow thou always,' so that they only take heed
to earthly things; everlasting putting behind. And therefore God's wrath is shed
on them and righteous vengeance, with great fierceness of umbelapping torments.
The righteous forsooth putting back all feignedness of heart, mouth, and deed,
endeavour to joy without ceasing in the sight of God; and they bow themselves
not to the love of void vanity, that, in their pilgrimage, they be not disturbed
from the path of righteousness. He therefore that desires to please Christ will
do nothing, for good nor ill, against Christ's will. Full horrible it is to go
into the fire of hell; but more to be hated is it to will to have lust in sin,
because of which he may lose Christ for evermore. Forsooth a soul parted from
worldly vices, and sundered from venomous sweetness of the flesh; being given to
heavenly desires, and as it were ravished, enjoys a marvellous mirth; because
she feels now the gladness of the Beloved's love, so that she may contemplate
more clearly, and desire more likingly. Also at this time the mouth of the
Spouse and His sweetest kissing she asks, saying with voice: All earthly things
are irksome to me: I feel the love of my Beloved; I taste the moisture of His
marvellous comfort; busily I yearn after that sweetness so that I fail not,
being put far from Him by temptation; Love makes me hardy to call Him that I
love best, that He, comforting me and filling me, might kiss me with the kissing
of His mouth. Truly the more I am lift from earthly thoughts, the more I feel
the sweetness desired; the more fleshly desires are slakened, the truelier
everlasting are kindled. I beseech He kiss me with the sweetness of His
refreshing love, straitly halsing me by the kissing of His mouth so that I fail
not, and putting grace in me that I may continually grow in love. As children
are nourished with their mother's milk, so chosen souls, burning in love, are
fed with heavenly delight, by the which they shall be brought to the sight of
the everlasting clearness. Truly the delights of Christ's love are sweeter than
all the delights of the world, and of fleshly savour. Forsooth all imaginations
of fleshly lust and all plenteousness of worldly riches is but wretchedness and
abomination in comparison with the least sweetness that is shed by God into a
chosen soul. As great difference as is betwixt the sweetness of the highest
plenty of worldly riches and the greatest need of worldly poverty, so infinitely
more is it betwixt the sweetness of Thy love, my God, and the lust of worldly
joy that fleshly men desire and go about, and in the which only they joy: for
nought of Thy love they feel, in whom alone they should be glad. Ghostly gifts
truly direct a devout soul to love burningly; to meditate sweetly; to
contemplate highly; to pray devoutly, and praise worthily; to desire JESU only,
to wash the mind from filth of sins; to slaken fleshly desires; and to despise
all earthly things and to paint the wounds and Christ's cross in mind; and, with
an unwearied desire, with desire to sigh for the sight of the most glorious
Clearness. Such are the precious ointments with which a hallowed soul is best
anointed and made fair with God's love.


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  CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER XXVII OF TRUE MEEKNESS AND ADVERSITY: AND OF THE EXAMPLE OF THE SAINTS: AND OF THE MANNER OF GHOSTLY PROFITING: AND OF THINKING ON CHRIST'S PASSION
========================================================================

The very meek behold not other men's sins, but their own; and not their good
deeds, but other men's they praise. The rejected truly do the reverse; for they
see rather other men's sins than their own, and in comparison they count their
own sins as little or none; but their good deeds -- if any happen -- they praise
before all others, whose goodness they desire to lessen if they cannot fully
destroy it. Two things have I been heavy to hear: one was when they praised me,
wretched, whom I knew only as despised; another, when I saw my neighbour, the
which I loved in God and for God, reproved or with slander backbitten.
Nevertheless thou that forsakest the world and art busy to follow Christ in
poverty, be busy to know thyself; for truly if thou forsakest the deeds and
desires of the world, thou bindest thyself to suffer worldly diseases gladly for
Christ, and truly to flee wealth strongly. If, forgetting, thou takest no heed
to this, thou goest beguiled from Christ's love. Therefore marvel not though
thou be noyed with divers and many temptations; for if thou withstand
steadfastly, thou shalt be dearer and sweeter before God. Have in mind that God
proves His own as gold is proved by fire. They truly that inwardly feel the
sweetness of Christ's love, gladly halsing tribulation, seek not outward worldly
solace. For the sweetness in mind of those truly loving Christ is so mickle that
if the joys of the world were gathered together in one place, they were liever
run to the wilderness than to once look thereon with the eye. And certain it is
no marvel, for all worldly cheer seems to it heaviness rather than comfort.
Soothly the soul that is wont to be visited with the joy of Christ's love, can
not be fed with vain joy, whose heart is not parted from his Beloved, for he
would sooner die than offend his Maker. And that thou mayest have this grace
keep thy sins in thy mind as an example of penitence and be busy to follow
saints' lives; so that thou a sinner, yet turned to God's service, may rise to
hope by sinners raised to heaven, and by the ransacking of the lives of
righteous men refrain thyself from all pride. Truly by mind of a holier thing is
the holy man's mind meeked; for whose life soever thou findest written or
hearest told, alway trust it without comparison better than thine. Such truly
are called Christ's lovers that for His name receive sharp adversity from the
world, and despise prosperity and vainglory. They are fulfilled with despisings,
reproofs, and slanders, and in their praising they are punished, the which for
God live solitary in this world, and dying are taken up to the company of angels
in heaven. Truly I fled into the wilderness because I could not accord with men;
for sickerly they oft let me from joy, and because I did not as they did, they
put error and indignation upon me; and therefore I have found sorrow and
tribulation, but I have ay worshipped the Name of our Lord. Therefore that we
fail not in temptation let us study to be weary of all earthly comforts, and
constantly to keep in mind the crown of eternal joy, that being found waking we
may receive the bliss promised. In the meantime also use we such rule that
fleshly desires may be utterly restrained and worldly covetousness wisely
forsake the heart, so that the body may alway stand stable and strong in God's
service. He truly that for Jesu's love forsakes all things, and leaves the
having of his will, and abides steadfast and profiting, says with joy, I have
found that my soul loves.' Christ is truly found in the heart when the heat of
endless love is felt in it, the which covets to be sought without feigning.
Christ certain alights in a soul with honey sweetness and ghostly song, so that
he that has this joy may boldly say: I have found my Love.' Whosoever, truly,
whiles he prays, sees his mind raised high, yea lift up above this bodily
heaven, if he fail not but alway more and more desires to savour everlasting
things, may therefore merrily abide the meekness of Christ; for within a few
years he shall feel himself ravished to behold glorious things. Wherefore with
meek heart, he shall not cease advancing in profit unto the time he comes to the
fellowship of everlasting rest. If the eye of thy heart be ravished in prayer to
behold heavenly things, then full near is it that thy soul, passing earthly
things, be made perfect in Christ's love. He soothly that in praying is not yet
raised to behold heavenly things, must not cease discreetly to meditate, pray,
and wake, unto the time he may perceive higher joys; so that he, lying on the
earth, be not despised with griefs and diseases. Egredimini filiae Syon et
videte regem Salomonem in diademate. That is to say: Go forth ye souls renewed,
and understand Christ truly, put to death for your health. Behold Him, and ye
shall see His godly head with thorns crowned; His face bespat; His full fair
eyes wan by pain; His back scourged; His breast hurt; His worthy hands thirled;
His sweetest side with a spear wounded; His feet nailed through, and wounds set
through all His soft flesh; as it is written: From the sole of His foot to the
crown of His head there is no health in Him.' Go forth, therefore, from your
unlawful desires and see what Christ has suffered for you; that your sins be
altogether cast out, and your hearts be taught the burning of love.


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  CHAPTER 54: CHAPTER XXVIII THAT A TRUE LOVER DESPISES WORLDLY THINGS AND DESIRES HEAVENLY: AND OF THE HATING OF PRIDE, AND HALSING OF MEEKNESS
========================================================================

Behold, thou wretched little man, how in the liking of fleshly lust the cruelty
of endless damnation sleeps. Therefore thou oughtest to gainstand them that are
busy to destroy those things -- that is to say virtues -- that Christ desires.
Thy heart, truly, must empty out all desire for all kinds of passing vanity
before it can burn with Christ's love. For the mind burning with Christ's spirit
is fed only with the love of endless things, and is gladdened in a joyful song.
Truly if the sweetness of endless love be now biding in thy soul, withouten
doubt it destroys all wantonness of fleshly wickedness; and delighting thee in
Christ, it suffers thee to feel nothing but Christ; for neither thou fallest
from Him, nor feelest anything sweet but Him. Forsooth the perfect when they die
are brought anon before God and set in the seats of blissful rest, for they see
that Christ is God and enjoy Him. They that begin to love Christ, afterward in
great joy of love and honeysweet burning shall not cease to sing full lovely
songs to Jesu Christ. Truly no earthly thing pleases him that truly loves
Christ, for by the greatness of love all passing things seem foul. With the
bodily eyes fleshly things are seen, but the righteous behold heavenly things
with a clean and meek heart: the which, enlightened by the flame of heavenly
sight, feel themselves loosed from the burden of sin, and afterward they cease
to sin in will; whose heart turned into fire halses in desire nothing earthly
but always in busy to thirl high things. They that are sickerly ordained to
holiness, in the beginning of their turning, for dread of God, forsake sins and
worldly vanities: and then they set their flesh under strait penance, afterward
setting Christ's love before all other, and feeling a delight in heavenly
sweetness in devotion of mind they profit mickle. And so they pass from degree
to degree and flourish with ghostly virtues; and so, made fair by grace, they
come at last to the perfection that stands in heart, and word, and deed.
Christ's love certain makes him that has swallowed it as it were dead to receive
these outward things: he savours what is upward, he seeks that which is above,
and nought that is on earth. No marvel the mind, sighing in desire of the
heavenly kingdom, grows in love of the Spouse, and joying with gladness inshed
bares itself from desire of earthly things; and fulfilled with the longing for
true love tents with all his mind to see God in His fairness. Wherefore
lightened with the flame of His love, it is busy only in His desire and seeks
nothing but Him. Whiles a true soul, certain, desires burningly only the
presence of the spouse, it is perfectly cooled from all wantonness of vainglory.
For love therefore it longs, because it sets at nought all earthly things whiles
it thus hies to endless joys. He that delights himself in Christ's love, and
desires to have His comfort continually, not only covets not the solace of man,
but also with great desire flees it, as if it were smoke that hurts his eyes.
Like as the air is stricken by the sunbeam, and by the shining of his light is
altogether shining; so a devout mind, enflamed with the fire of Christ's love
and fulfilled with desire for the joys of heaven, seems all love, because it is
altogether turned into another likeness; the substance abiding although it be
wonderfully mirthed. For when the mind is kindled by the fire of the Holy Ghost,
it is bared from all idleness and uncleanness, and it is made sweet with the
spring of God's delight, alway contemplating and never failing; seeing not
earthly things until it be glorified with the sight of the Lover. Truly it
behoves us to eschew all pride and swelling of heart, for this it is that has
cast sad men into great wretchedness. What is more shameful? What more worthy to
be punished? It is great scorn truly, and plain abomination, that the foulest
worm, the worst sinner, the lowest of men, sets about to make himself great on
earth, for whom the highest King and Lord of Lords has liked so mickle to meek
himself. It thou wilt clearly behold Christ's meekness, of whatsoever degree
thou mayest be, how mickle soever the riches or virtues thou hast, thou shalt
find in this no matter of pride but of despising thyself, and a cause of
meekness. Thou therefore that despisest sinners, behold thyself, for thou makest
thyself much worse than others; for truly God is more displeased with a proud
righteous man than a meek sinner. When true meekness is set in thy mind,
whatsoever thou doest well is done to the praise of thy Maker, so that despising
thy virtue thou seekest His worship; that thou, being given to vanity, lose not
thy meed everlasting. Think therefore on Jesu with thy heart's desire; pass thy
prayer to Him; be not weary ever to seek Him; care for nothing but Him alone.
Happy are the rich that have such a possession; and to have this forsake thou
the vanities of the world; and He shall overcome thine enemy and bring thee to
His kingdom. The fiend that noys thee shall be overcome; the flesh that grieves
thee be made subject; the world that assays thee for to beguile, shall be
despised, if thy heart cease not to seek Christ's love. The man truly sits not
idle the which in mind cries to Christ although his tongue be still; for the
body never rests in fleshy rest whiles the mind stints not to desire heavenly
things; nor is he idle that is greedy ever to covet things everlasting. Truly
the thoughts of Christ's lovers are swift in going up and harmonious in course;
they will not be bound to passing things nor tied to fleshly contagion, but
cease not to ascend until they have come to the heavens. For whiles the body is
weary in Christ's service, ofttimes the spirit being uplifted is taken up to
heavenly refreshment and the contemplation of God. He truly that prays devoutly
has not his heart wavering among earthly things but raised to God in the
heavens. He that desires to have that he prays, busily takes heed what he prays,
for whom he prays and to what end he prays, and that he loves Him Whom he prays;
lest a wretch, asking reward from this life, be beguiled.Saints forsooth have so
great meekness that they think they know nought, and think themselves as those
who say they do nought; they call themselves lowest of all and unworthiest, yea,
like as them that they chastise with reproving. These, after God's commandment,
rest in the lowest place, whose lowly sitting receives no reproof from God, but
honour; not unthank nor loss of meed, but great and worthy worship, to the which
meekness best disposes.Truly this meekness gives praise to Christ, noy to the
fiend, and joy to God's people; it makes Christ's servant to love more
burningly, to serve more devoutly, to praise more worthily; and makes him fuller
of charity. The more that a man meeks himself the more he raises God's worship
on high. He that truly perseveres in the love of God and of his neighbour, and
yet thinks himself unworthier and lower than others, by meekness and knowledge
of himself overcomes enemies, and conquers the love of the High Judge, and shall
be received into endless joy by the angels when he passes from this light.


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  CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER XXIX THE TEACHING OF THE BOISTEROUS AND UNTAUGHT, DESIRING TO LOVE: AND OF THE ESCHEWING OF WOMEN
========================================================================

A true soul, the spouse of Jesus Christ, casts out pride, for deeply she loves
meekness; she abhors vainglory, for desiring only everlasting mirth, she follows
Christ; she hates fleshly liking and softness, for feeling before the sweetness
of the everlasting honey, she desires alway to feel love for the loveliest. Evil
wrath she has not, because she is ready to suffer all things for Christ's love.
She knows not envy of others, for shining with true love she joys in ilk man's
profit and health. Truly no man is envious but if he in truth be little and
weens he be mickle, wherefore he raises slanders against others lest they be
likened to him; or if any other among the people be called greater, fairer, or
stronger, anon he is heavy, being touched with the venom of envy. But the soul
the which is but a little kindled with heavenly contemplation can not seek that
vainglory of slipping praise. Whereby it is plainly shown that men therefore
have envy because they have not the love of God that is in ilk chosen soul. For
where any are that love God, they truly desire the profit of their fellows as of
themselves. If thou wilt therefore surpass in God's love thou hatest all earthly
praising. The despisings of men and their scorns thou halsest for Christ, and
strongly thou spreadest thy mind to get eternal joy. Rather choose with the
rejected to feel the torment of fire in pain than common in sin with them.
Certain he lives sicker that loves Christ burningly, and in the joy of His love
sings lustily. It is more pleasing to him to fall into everlasting fire than
once to sin deadly. Forsooth there are such saints, because they live in
cleanness. They despise all earthly things, and from heat and ghostly gladness
joying, they sing what before they said. They burn in the love of Christ; they
study after heavenly sights; they are ever busy, as much as in them is, with
good works; they overflow with the likings of everlasting life; and yet to
themselves them seem most foul, and among others they think themselves the last
and lowest. Therefore thou that art boisterous and untaught be busy to stand
strongly against thy ghostly enemies, and to suffer no ill thought to rest in
thy heart; and set thy wisdom against the waitings of the fiends. When an
unclean imagination or thought, contrary to the purpose of thy mind, withstands
thee, fail not but fight manly. Cry to Christ without ceasing, until thou be
clad with God's armour. And if thou desire to follow the despisers of the world
think not what thou forsakest but what thou despisest; with what desire thou
offerest thy will to God; with how great desire of love thou presentest thy
prayers; with how great heat for the sight of God thou longest to be joined to
Him. If thou perfectly hate all sin; if thou desire nothing that passes; if thy
soul refuses to be cheered with earthly solace; if thou savour to behold
heavenly things and desire most God's Son; if thou speak mannerly and wisely,
because he speaks not, except he be made, whose spirit is melted with the honey
of God's love and the sweetness of the song of Jesu; behold by these, and other
such, sometimes used, thou shalt come to perfection. No marvel God approves such
a despiser of the world. Truly the soul that is both sweet with the shining of
conscience, and fair with the charity of endless love, may be called Christ's
garden; for she is cleansed from sins, flourishes with virtues and joys with the
sweetness of high song, like as with songs of birds. Therefore set we all our
mind to please and obey God, to serve and love Him, and in ilk good deed we do
be we busy to come to God. What value is it to covet earthly things or to desire
fleshly love? We can have nothing thereby that lasts but the Judge's wrath, that
is to say everlasting pain. Soothly fleshly love stirs temptation and blinds the
soul that she may not have perfect cleanness; it hides sins done, and it casts
her down unwisely to new wickedness; it enflames to all cursed lusts; it
disturbs all rest of the soul, and it lets, so that Christ may not be burningly
loved; and wastes all virtue gotten before. Therefore he that covets to love
Christ, let not the eye of his mind look to woman's love. Women if they love men
are fond, because they know not to keep measure in loving; and truly when they
are loved they prick full bitterly. They have one eye for waitings, and another
for true sorrow; whose love distracts the wits, perverts and overturns reason,
changes wisdom of mind to folly, withdraws the heart from God and makes the soul
bond to fiends. And forsooth he that beholds a woman with fleshly love --
although it be not with the will to fulfill lust -- keeps not himself undefiled
from unlawful movings or unclean thoughts, but ofttimes defiles himself with
stinking filth; and, peradventure, he feels a liking for to do worse. Truly the
beauty of women beguiles many men, through desire whereof the hearts of the
righteous also are some time overturned, so that they that began in spirit end
in the flesh. Therefore beware, and in the good beginning of thy conversation
keep no speech with women's fairness lest receiving thereof the venomous
sickness of lust for to proffer and fulfill foulness of mind, and being deceived
knowingly and cowardly, thou be drawn away by the discomfits of thine enemies.
Therefore flee women wisely and alway keep thy thoughts far from them, because,
though a woman be good, yet the fiend by pricking and moving, and also by their
cherishing beauty, thy will can be overmickle delighted in them, because of
frailty of flesh. But if thou wouldst call again Christ's love without ceasing,
and have Him with dread in thy sight in all places, I trow thou shouldest never
be beguiled by the false cherishing of a woman; but truly the more that thou
seest thou art assayed with false flatterings -- if thou despise them as japes
or trifles as they are -- no marvel that thou shouldest have the more joy of
God's love. Christ truly does marvellously in His lovers, the which, with a
special and a perfect love He takes to Himself. Truly they desire not softness
of the flesh or the beauty thereof; all worldly things they forget; they love
not temporal prosperity nor dread the world's frowardness. They love full well
to be by themselves that, without letting, they may fall into the gladness that
they feel in God's love; full sweet they think it to suffer for Christ, and
nothing hard. For he that wills worthily to honour the victory of martyrs, let
him fulfill the devotion of virtue by the following of virtue. Let him hold the
cause of the martyrs if that he suffer not the pain; let him keep patience, in
which he shall have full victory. A soul truly forsaking the folly of ill love
enters the way of strait life, in the which is felt the earnest of the sweetness
of heavenly life: which, when she feels so comfortable that she overcomes all
passing liking, she prays God that He would vouchsafe such comfort to give and
refresh her ghostly, and that He would give the grace of continuance lest she
fail, being made weary by divers errors. If a young man begin to do well let him
ever think to continue; let him not sleep nor cease from his good purpose, but
ay profit in mind, rising from less to more. Forsooth the shadow of error being
forsaken, and the venomous sweetness of a wretched life despised, taking the
strait life, he halses now the sweetness of full high devotion. And thus, as it
were by degrees, he ascends to the height and contemplation of God by the gifts
of the Holy Ghost; in the which heat of eternal love being rested and gladdened,
he overflows with heavenly delights, as far as is lawful to mortal man.Certainly
a good soul umbeset with many diseases, and noyed with the heat of temptation,
can not feel the sweetness of God's love as it is in itself; nevertheless she is
expert in the joy of love and in stable course draws to her Lover; and though
the soul may want so wonderful sweetness, yet with so great desire she loves
Christ that for His love only she shall perseveringly stand.But how mickle is
His most kind help to be praised in which every true lover is expert; that it
comforts all the sorry; makes sweet the forsaken; sets in peace the disturbed,
and lays waste all distracting noise. The soul departed from the sins of the
world, and withdrawn from fleshly desire, is purged of sin; and thereby she
understands a sweetness of future mirth coming near to her, in which hope she is
confirmed, and is sicker to have the kingdom. And in this life she gives to
Christ a drink full likingly made of hot love, with greetings of ghostly gifts
and with flowers of virtues, that Christ receives, pleased, who for love drank
of the well of penance in this life.


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  CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER XXX OF GOD'S PRIVY DOOM: AND THAT THEY THAT FALL AGAIN BE NOT DEEMED BY US: AND OF GREAT ARGUMENTS AGAINST PURCHASOURS
========================================================================

But some are wont to ask how it can be that many that have led the hardest life
and have utterly forsaken this world's joy, afterwards dread not to slide again
into sin; and they shall not end in a good end. If we will not err let us be in
peace from proudly deeming. To us it longs not to know God's privy doom: truly
after this life all things as needs shall be shown. All the ways of our Lord's
dooms are merry, that is to say true and righteous; for neither He reproves one
withouten very right, nor another, withouten mercy that is righteous, He chooses
unto life. Therefore we ought to consider, that the clothing of His clearness is
as a groundless pit; wherefore we ought, whiles we are in this way, to dread,
and in no wise to presume unwisely; for man wots not whether he be worthy wrath
or love, or by what end he shall pass from this life. The good ought to dread
that they fall not into ill; and the ill may trow that they can rise from their
malice. Forsooth if they bide in their covetousness and their wickedness, in
vain they hope themselves sicker of mercy, whiles their wickedness is not left;
for sin, before it be forsaken, is never forgiven; nor yet then unless
satisfaction be behight and that a sinner shirk not to fulfill it as soon as he
can. But the mighty men and the worldly rich that ever hungrily burn in getting
possessions of others, and by their goods and riches grow in earthly greatness
and worldly power -- buying with little money what, after this passing
substance, was of great value -- or have received in the service of kings or
great lords great gifts, without meed, that they might have delights and lusts
with honours: let them hear not me but Saint Job: Ducunt inquit in bonis dies
suos et in puncto ad infernum descendent; that is to say: Their days they led in
pleasure, and to hell they fall in a point.' Behold, in a point they lose all
that they studied all their life to get; with these worldly wisdom has dwelt
that, before God, is called folly, and fleshly wit, that is enmity to God, they
knew. Therefore with mighty torments they shall suffer because knowing God they
glorify not God but themselves and have vanished in their thoughts; calling
themselves wise they are now made fools; and they, that have felt the joy and
delight of this world, are come to the deepness of stinking hell. And yet
forsooth among all that are bound with the vice of this world, in none, as I
suppose, is less trust of salvation than of these the people call false
purchasours. When they soothly have spent all their strength and youth in
getting the possessions of another by wrong and law; and afterwards in age they
rest, sickerly keeping that they with wrong have gotten. But because their
conscience is feared, wickedness gives witness to condemnation only when they
cease from cursed getting; they dread not to use other men's goods as if they
were their own. For if they should restore all, full few should be left for
themselves. And because they are proud they shame to beg; or they will not fall
from their old honour, therefore they say they cannot dig or labour. Also,
deceived by fiends, they choose rather to eschew worldly wretchedness that they
may suffer the endless pain of hell everlastingly. Such forsooth whiles they
have lordship in this world oppress the small by the power of their tyranny;
forsooth to be raised into such melody of this exile is not a matter of dread to
others but rather joy; for lest God's chosen should be such they are refrained
by God, David being witness: Ne timueris cum dives factus fuerit homo, etc. When
man is made rich dread not, nor when joy of his house is multiplied'; for when
he dies he takes not all, nor his joy goes not with him; nor the drop of water,
that is to say of mercy, comes not to the tongue of the rich man burning in
hell. In his dying he loses all his joy, and only sin goes with him to the land
of darkness, for the which he shall be punished withouten end. Explicit liber
primus Incendii Amoris Ricardi Hampole heremite, translatus a latino in
Angelicum, per fratrem Richardum Misyn heremitam, et ordinis carmelitarum, Ac
sacre theologie bachalareum, Anno domini Millesimo ccccxxxv. </div3> <pb/>
</div2>


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  CHAPTER 57: CHAPTER I WHY THE PERFECT CONTEMPLATIVES TAKE NO HEED TO OUTWARD SONG, AND OF THEIR ERROR THAT REPROVE THEM: AND HOW TO PROFIT IN CONTEMPLATION
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Because in the kirk of God there are singers ordained in their degree, and set
to praise God and to stir the people to devotion, some have come to me asking
why I would not sing as other men when they have ofttimes seen me in the solemn
masses. They weened forsooth I had done wrong, for ilk man, they say, is bound
to sing bodily before his Maker, and yield music with his outward voice. I
answered not thereof; for they knew not how I gave forth melody and a sweet
voice to my Maker, but, because they could not understand by what way, they
weened that no man might have ghostly song.Truly it is fondness to trow that a
man, and especially he that is perfectly given to God's service, should not have
a special gift from His love that many other men have not; but many trow this
because in themselves they find none such. Therefore I have thought to show some
manner of answer, and not fully give stead to the reprovers. How longs the life
of other men to them whose manners, as they wot, in many things surpass their
life, and are far higher in things that are unseen? Whether it is lawful to God
to do what He will; or their sight is wicked and God is good? Nor will they
bring God's rule under their measure, for are not all men God's? And whom He
will, He takes; and whom He will, He forsakes; and to whom He will and when He
will, He gives what pleases Him, to show the greatness of His Goodness?Therefore
I trow they grumble and backbite because they would that others higher in
devotion come down to them, and conform themselves in all things to their
lowers, for they ween they be higher when they are far lower in merit. Therefore
my soul has found boldness to open my music a little that is come to me by
burning love; in which I sing before Jesu and sound notes of the greatest
sweetness. Also the more they have stood up against me, because I fled the
outward songs that are wont in the kirks, and the sweetness of the organ that is
heard gladly by the people, only abiding among these either when the need of
hearing mass -- which elsewhere I could not hear -- or the solemnity of the day
asked it on account of the backbiting of the people.Truly I have desired to sit
alone that I might take heed to Christ alone that had given to me ghostly song,
in the which I might offer Him praises and prayers. They that reproved me trowed
not this, and therefore they would have brought me to their manner; but I could
not leave the grace of Christ and consent to fond men that knew me not within.
Therefore I let them speak, and I did that that was to do after the state in the
which God had set me.For this shall I say, thanking Christ's glory, that
henceforward I no more fear others who be thus fond, nor that presume to deem
proudly; for that I have done is not from feigning simulation, and being taken
by imagination, as some say of me; and many therewith are beguiled that ween
they have that they never received. But in truth an unseen joy has come to me
and I have verily waxed warm within me with the fire of love; the which has
taken my heart from these low things, so that, singing in Jesu, full far have I
flown from outward melody to full inward.Whence I have hated filth, and cast out
vanity of words, and have not taken meats in superfluity, nor have striven
unwisely to govern myself; although it were said of me I was given to rich
houses, and to be fed well and live in pleasures. But by God's working I had set
my soul otherwise, so that I savoured things heavenly rather than sweetness of
meats; and for this cause I have loved a certain wilderness, and I chose to live
away from men, only speeding the needs of the body, and so soothly I received
solace of Him that I loved.It is not to be trowed that in the beginning of his
turning a man may run to the height of contemplative life or feel the sweetness
thereof, when it is well known that contemplation is gotten in great time and
with great labour, and is not given anon to every man, although it be had with
all joy when it is gotten. Truly it is not in man's power to receive it, nor no
man's labour however great is worthy it; but of the goodliness of God it is
given to true lovers that have desired to love Christ above man's hoping.Yet
many after penance have fallen from innocence, afterwards gliding into idleness
and to the abomination of sinners, because they were not burning in charity;
seldom and so thinly have they the sweetness of contemplation that they are too
weak to stand when they are tempted; or else, being weary and loathing ghostly
food, they desire worldly comfort among sinners.Truly to despise this world and
desire the heavenly kingdom and desire Christ's love is full good; and, hating
sin, to read busily or meditate on holy books. A devout soul being used and
taught in these has a ready defence against the fiend's darts. It is truly to
the devil's confusion when we spread God's word against all his temptations.
Forsooth the sufferers, and bearers in patience of the burden and heat of
temptation, suffer not themselves to be led into the love of deceitful
sweetness; and after many tears and busy prayers they shall be enflamed with
eternal love, and shall feel heat abiding in themselves withouten end, for in
their meditation the fire shall wax warm.


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  CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER II THE TEACHING OF CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE IN PRAYING, MEDITATING, FASTING, AND WAKING: AND OF THE PROUD CONTEMPLATIVE: AND OF TRUE AND VERY GHOSTLY SONG
========================================================================

Therefore one chosen and alway desiring love turns himself into his love; for he
has neither worldly substance nor desires to have, but following Christ by
wilful poverty lives content and paid by the alms of other men, whiles his
conscience is clear and made sweet with heavenly savour. All his heart shall he
shed forth in love of his Maker, and he shall labour to be enlightened by daily
increase in high desires. Every man forsaking this world, if he desire to be
enflamed with the fire of the Holy Ghost, must busily take tent not to wax slow
in prayer and meditation. Soothly by these, with tears following and Christ
favouring, the mind shall be gladdened; and being glad, shall be lift into
contemplative life. The soul goes up into this height whiles soaring by excess
it is taken up above itself, and heaven being open to the eye of the mind, it
offers privy things to be beheld. But first truly it behoves to be exercised
busily, and for not a few years, in praying and meditating, scarcely taking the
needs of the body, so that it may be burning in fulfilling these; and, all
feigning being cast out, it should not slacken day and night to seek and know
God's love. And thus the Almighty Lover, strengthening His lover to love, shall
raise him high above all earthly things and vicious strifes and vain thoughts,
so that the wicked and dying flies of sin lose not the sweetness of the ointment
of grace since dead, they become as nought. And henceforward God's love shall be
so sweet to him, and shall be also moistened with sweetness most liking, and he
shall feel nought but the solace of heavenly savour shed into him, and token of
high holiness. Truly fed with this sweetness he desires ever to wake, inasmuch
as he feels verily the heat of endless love burning his heart, nor goes it away,
enlightening the mind with sweet mystery. And yet some others that men trowed
had been holy had this heat in imagination only. Wherefore being not in truth
but in shadow, when they are called to the wedding or the feast of Christ's
espousals, they are not ashamed unworthily to challenge the first place. No
marvel that in the righteous examination they shall go down with shame, and
shall have the lower place. Of these truly it is said: Cadent a latere tuo
mille, et decem milia a dextris tuis, that is to say: From thy side a thousand
shall fall, and ten thousand from thy right hand.' But would God they knew
themselves and that they would ransack their conscience; then should they not be
presumptuous, nor making comparison with the deeds of their betters would they
empride themselves. Truly the lover of the Godhead, whose inward parts are
verily thirled with love of the unseen beauty and who joys with all the pith of
his soul, is gladdened with most merry heat. Because he has continually given
himself to constant devotion for God, when Christ wills, he shall receive -- not
of his own meed but of Christ's goodness -- a holy sound sent from heaven, and
thought and meditation shall be changed into song, and the mind shall bide in
marvellous melody. Soothly it is the sweetness of angels that he has received
into his soul; and the same praises, though it be not in the same words, he
shall sing to God. Such as is the song of the angels so is the voice of this
true lover; though it be not so great or perfect, for frailty of the flesh that
yet cumbers the lover. He that knows this, knows also angels song, for both are
of one kind here and in heaven. Tune pertains to song, not to the ditty that is
sung. This praising and song is angels meat; by which also living men most hot
in love are gladdened, singing in Jesu, now when they have received the doom of
endless praise that is sung by the angels of God. It is written in the psalm:
Panem angelorum manducavit homo, that is to say: Man has eaten angels bread.'
And so nature is renewed and shall pass now into a godly joy and happy likeness,
so that he shall be happy, sweet, godly, and songful, and shall feel in himself
lust for everlasting love, and with great sweetness shall continually sing.
Soothly it happens to such a lover what I have not found expressed in the
writings of the doctors: that is, this song shall swell up in his mouth, and he
shall sing his prayers with a ghostly symphony; and he shall be slow with his
tongue, because of the great plenty of inward joy, tarrying in song and a
singular music, so that that he was wont to say in an hour scarcely he may
fulfill in half a day. Whilst he receives it soothly he shall sit alone, not
singing with others nor reading psalms. I say not ilk man should do this, but he
to whom it is given; and let him fulfill what he likes him, for he is led by the
Holy Ghost, nor for men's words shall he turn from his life. In a clear heat
certain shall he dwell, and in full sweet melody, shall he be lift up. The
person of man shall he not accept; and therefore of some shall he be called a
fool or churl because he praises God in joyful song. For the praise of God shall
burst up from his whole heart, and his sweet voice shall reach on high; the
which God's Majesty likes to hear. A fair visage has he whose fairness God
desires, and keeps in himself the unmade wisdom. Wisdom truly is drawn from
privy things, and the delight thereof is with the lovers of the everlasting; for
she is not found in their souls that live sweetly in earth. She dwells in him of
whom I spake, because he melts wholly in Christ's love and all his inward
members cry to God. This cry is love and song, that a great voice raises to
God's ears. It is also the desire of good, and the affection for virtue. His
crying is outside of this world because his mind desires nothing but Christ. His
soul within is all burnt with the fire of love, so that his heart is alight and
burning, and nothing outward he does but that good may be expounded. God he
praises in song, but yet in silence: not to men's ears but in God's sight he
yields praises with a marvellous sweetness.


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  CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER III THAT GHOSTLY SONG ACCORDS NOT WITH BODILY: AND THE CAUSE AND THE ERROR OF GAINSAYERS. AND OF KNOWLEDGE INSHED OR INSPIRED; AND HOW IT DIFFERS FROM KNOWLEDGE GOTTEN BY LABOUR
========================================================================

But in this every man raised in holiness may know that he has the song of which
I spake: if he can not sustain the cry of singers unless his inward song be
brought to mind, and he has glided, so to say, into outward. That among singers
and readers some are distracted from their devotion is not from perfection but
from unstableness of mind, because other men's words break and destroy their
prayers; and this forsooth happens not to the perfect. They truly are so stabled
that by no cry or noise or any other thing can they be distracted from prayer or
thought, but only cut off by such from song. For truly this sweet ghostly song
is specially worth because it is given to the most special. It accords not with
outward song, the which in kirks and elsewhere are used. It discords mickle from
all that is formed by man's outward voice to be heard with bodily ears; but
among angels' tunes it has an acceptable melody, and by them that have known it,
it is commended with marvel. See and understand and be not beguiled, for to you
I have shown, to the honour of Almighty God and to your profit, why I fled
strangers in the kirks, and for what cause I loved not to mingle with them, and
desired not to hear organ players. Truly they gave me letting from songful
sweetness, and made fail the full clear song. And therefore marvel not if I fled
that that confused me; and in that I had been to blame, if I had not left what
would have put me from so sweet song. Forsooth I had erred if I had done
otherwise. But well I knew of whom I received it. Therefore I have alway
conformed me to do His will, lest He should take from me, being unkind, that He
gave to me kindly. I had great liking to sit in the wilderness that I might sing
more sweetly far from noise; and with quickness of heart I might feel sweetest
praise; the which doubtless I have received of His gift whom above all things I
have wonderfully loved. Truly my heart has not yearned in bodily desire, nor
have I conceived this comfortable song that I have sung, singing in Jesu, from a
creature. Therefore love has brought me thereto, that I should not stand in the
plight in which the unthrifty are cast down; but that I should be raised above
the height of all seen things, and from heaven should be kindled and lightened
to praise God, whose praising is not comely in the sinner's mouth. To whom
therefore that loves not anything save one shall the window, unthirled by all,
be opened; and no marvel it were although his nature were changed into nobility
of worthiness unable to be told, and made clear and free; which noble clearness
no man shall know in eternity that now knows not love, and in Christ feels
sweetness. Nor doubtless ought I to cease from the best tried devotion because
of backbiters that have cast evil biting into mind innocence; and I ought to
cast all wickedness down, and love them that stirred me to greater ill; and
thereof grace shall have been increased to the lover whiles he has not taken
heed to words wavering in the wind, but with a perfect heart shall spread
himself forth to his love, and unwearily pursue his purpose. Herefore truly the
desire for vanity is vanished and truthful love is risen in the mind, so that
the soul of the lover shall not wax cold but shall remain in comfortable heat
and the heart shall not be bruised from continual thought of his Beloved.
Soothly in this steadfastness the excellence of love happens to a true lover, so
that he shall be raised up to a fiery heaven and there shall be stirred to love
more than may be spoken, and shall be more burned within himself than can be
shown, and shall halse the degrees of grace. And hereof he has received and
boldly say whatever he thinks; though before he were holden -- or else were -- a
fool and unwise. But those taught by knowledge gotten, not inshed, and puffed up
with folded arguments, in this are disdainful: saying where learned he? who read
to him? For they trow not that the lovers of endless love might be taught by
their inward master to speak better than they taught of men, that have studied
at all times for vain honours. If in the old time the Holy Ghost inspired many,
why should He not now take His lovers to contemplate the Joy of His Godhead?
Some of this time are approved to be even to those of former times. I call not
this approving men's allowance, for oft they err in their approving, choosing
such as God despised and despising those God has chosen. But such I call allowed
whom eternal love has pithily enflamed and the grace of the Holy Ghost inspires
to all good; these are marked with the flower of all virtue, and continually
sing in the love of God. And all that longs to the world's vain joy and the
false honours of cursed and proud life they tread under the feet of their
affections. No marvel that these are outcasts of men. But in the sight of God
and the holy angels they are greatly commended; whose hearts are strong to
suffer all adversity, nor will they be blown about by the wind of vanity. At the
last they are borne to Christ with high holiness, when they that men chose and
allowed are cast down in damnation and are drawn in torments to be punished with
the fiends withouten end.


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  CHAPTER 60: CHAPTER IV OF THE EXCELLENCE OF GHOSTLY SONG: AND THAT IT NEITHER CAN BE SAID NOR WRITTEN, NOR RECEIVES ANY FELLOWSHIP: AND OF THE CHARITY OF SPIRITUAL SINGERS: AND THE PRIDE OF THEM THAT HAVE GOTTEN KNOWLEDGE
========================================================================

Truly the lover of Almighty God is not raised in mind to see into high things
withouten skill, and to sing the song of love that springs up in the soul, the
which is ardently and openly burnt with the fire of love, and spread out in
sweet devotion, abiding in songs that yield honey from our fairest Mediator.
Therefore the singer is led into all mirth, and, the well of endless heat
breaking forth in mirth, he is received into halsing and singular solace, and
the lover is arrayed with the might of the most lovely passage and refreshed in
sweet heat. He joys, truly glistening whiter than snow and redder than a rose;
for he is kindled by God's fire, and going with clearness of conscience he is
clad in white. Therefore he is taken up thereto above all others; for in his
mind melody abides and sweet plenty of heat tarries; so that not only shall he
offer a marrow offering in himself and pay Christ praise in ghostly music, but
also he shall stir others to love, so that they hie to give themselves devoutly
and perfectly to God; the which vouchsafes to make glad His lovers, cleaving to
Him with all their heart, in this exile also. This delight, certain, which he
has tasted in loving Jesu, passes all wit and feeling. Truly I can not tell a
little point of this joy, for who can tell an untold heat? Who lay bare an
infinite sweetness? Certain if I would speak of this joy unable to be told, it
seems to me as if I should teem the sea by drops, and spar it all in a little
hole of the earth. And no marvel though I, the which scarcely tastes one drop of
that same excellence, can not open to you the unmeasuredness of that eternal
sweetness, nor that ye that are boisterous in wit and distracted by fleshly
thoughts can not receive it; even although ye were full wise of wit and given to
God's services. Nevertheless if ye were alway busy to savour heavenly things,
and if ye studied to be enflamed with God's love, withouten doubt there should
come into you plenteously the liking of that love, the which fulfilling all
penetrable parts of thy mind shall drop a wonderful sweetness into it. Truly the
fuller ye shall be of charity, the more able ye may suppose yourselves to be
receivers of that joy. The nearer truly to God shall they be endlessly that in
this time have the more burningly and sweetly loved Him. They, certain, that are
empty of God's love are fulfilled with worldly filth; and so being drawn to vain
tales, they seek the delights in outward things that show, forgetting inward
goods: whose height is hidden from mortal eye, whiles they in mind fall under
worldly solace, even in their rising they vanish from a glorious perpetuity.
Therefore it seems that in the time to come covetousness shall be exiled and
charity certainly reign. Contrarily, in this life it is wrought by many,
forsooth by nearly all, that covetousness is brought in -- yes into the King's
hall; and charity, as if it were consenting to treason, is prisoned and cast out
of the kingdom into exile. But yet it has found a dwelling place in the hearts
of God's chosen. It goes from the proud and rests in the meek. Many wretches are
beguiled; the which feign to themselves to love God when they love Him not,
trowing that they may be occupied with worldly needs and yet truly enjoy the
love of Jesu Christ with sweetness. And they trow they may run about the world,
and be contemplative; the which they that fervently love God and have gone into
contemplative life deemed impossible. But being ignorant and not imbued with
heavenly wisdom but puffed up with the knowledge that they have gotten they
suppose wrongly concerning themselves; and they know not as yet how to hold God
with love. Therefore I cry and with desire I say: Salvum me fac Deus, quoniam
defecit sanctus, that is to say: Lord make me safe, for thy saint is wanting.'
The true lover fails: the voice of singers is at peace; there appears no heat in
true lovers; ilk man goes in his evil way, and the wretchedness he has conceived
in heart he ceases not to bring to deed. They waste their days in vanity and
their years in haste. Alas the fire of desire has swallowed up the young man and
maiden, the suckling also together with the old man. O good Jesu, it is full
good to me to be drawn to Thee, for my soul shall not come into their counsel
but sitting all alone to Thee shall I sing. The whiles Thou art praised thou
waxest sweet, so that it is not hard but full sweet to continually praise Thee;
not bitter but merrier than to be fulfilled with all bodily and worldly
delights. Delectable and desirable it is to be in Thy praise; for no marvel is
it that all that is dight with so great love savours full sweet. The lover also
burning in this unbodily halsing, his wickedness being cleansed, and all his
thoughts that go not unto this end vanished, and desiring to see his Beloved
with his ghostly eye, has raised a cry to his Maker, bursting forth from the
inner marrow of his affectuous love, as if he would cry from afar. He lifts up
his inward voice, the which is not found but in the lover most burning; as far
as is lawful in this way. Here I cease: for, because of the unwit and
boisterousness of mind understanding, I can not describe this cry, nor yet how
mickle it is or how merry to think, feel, bear; though I might in my measure.
But to you I could not tell it, nor can not, for I know not how to overcome my
wits except that I will say this cry is ghostly song. Who therefore shall sing
to me the ditty of my song and the joys of my desire, with burning of love and
heat of my young age, that from songs of fellowly charity I might ransack my
substance, and the measure of sweetness in which I was holden worthy might be
known to me; if peradventure I might find myself exempted from unhappiness. And
I presume not to say that by myself, because I have not yet found that I desire
after so that I might rest with sweetness in the solace of my fellows. If
forsooth I deemed that cry or song is alway hid from bodily ears -- and that
dare I well say -- would God that I might find a man author of that melody the
which, though not in word yet in writing, should sing me my joy, and should draw
out notes of love in singing and joying in spirit, the which, in the Name most
worthy, I shamed not to say before my love. This one truly should be lovelier to
me than gold; and all precious things that are to be had in this exile are not
like to him. Beauty of virtue dwells with him and the secrets of love he
perfectly ransacks. I would love him truly as my heart, nor is there aught that
I would hide from him; for he shall show me the ghostly song that I desire to
understand, and shall clearly unfold the melody of my mirth. In which unfolding
I shall the more joy, or else quicklier sing, because the burning of love shall
be shown to me, and songful joy shall shine before me; also my clamorous thought
shall not glide without a praiser, nor shall I labour thus in doubt. Now truly
the longings of this heavisom exile cast me down, and heaviness grieving me
scarcely suffers me to stand. And when within with unwrought heat I wax warm,
without I lurk as it were wan and unhappy and without light. O my God, to whom I
offer devotion without feigning, wilt Thou not think on me in Thy mercy? A
wretch I am; therefore I need Thy mercy. And wilt Thou not raise into light the
longing that binds me, that I may fitly have that I desire; and the labour in
which I am heavy because I trespassed, Thou shalt change into a honey sweet
mansion, so that melody may last where heaviness was; and that I may see my Love
in His beauty, whom I desire, and worship Him endlessly, held by His touch, for
after Him I long.


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  CHAPTER 61: CHAPTER V THE MEDITATION OF THE LOVER IN HIS LOVE: AND THE FORSAKING OF FELLOWSHIP: AND HOW IN ORDER IT COMES TO THE FLAME OF LOVE
========================================================================

O Jesu, when with rejoicing, I burn in Thee, and busily the heat of love comes
in so that I should halse Thee fully, O most lovely; but I am borne back, Thou
sweetest one, from that I love and desire. Moreover griefs happen, and the waste
wilderness forbars the way, and suffers not the habitations of the lovers to be
builded in one. But would to God Thou hadst shown me a fellow in the way, that
with his stirrings my heaviness might have been gladdened and the bond of
sighing unloosed; if it were not forthwith cut in sunder by Thy sweet scythe, so
sorely it would strain that it might gar the lover go forth from the close of
the flesh for the greatness of love and be cast down before Thy Majesty. In the
meantime, certain, joying in hymns of praise, sweetly should I have rested with
my fellow that Thou hadst given me, and in good speech, withouten strife, we
should have been glad. Truly feasting together in the mirth of love we would
sing lovely songs, until we be led from this outward and cumbrous prison and
brought into the inward dwelling place, at the same time, receiving by lot a
seat among the heavenly citizens that loved Christ in one manner and one
measure. Alas what shall I do? How long shall I suffer delay? To whom shall I
flee that I may happily enjoy that I desire? Needy am I and hungry, noyed and
diseased, wounded and discoloured for the absence of my love; for love hurts me,
and hope that is put back chastises my soul. Therefore the cry of the heart goes
up, and amongst the heavenly citizens a songly thought runs desiring to be
lifted up to the ear of the most High. And when it comes there it proffers its
errand and says: O my love! O my honey! O my harp! O my psaltry and daily song!
When shalt Thou help my heaviness? O my heart's rose, when shalt Thou come to me
and take with Thee my spirit? Truly Thou seest that I am wounded to the quick
with Thy fair beauty, and the longing relaxes not but grows more and more, and
the penalties here present cast me down, and prick me to go to Thee, of whom
only I trow I shall see solace and remedy. But who meanwhile shall sing me the
end of my grief and the end of mine unrest? And who shall show to me the
greatness of my joy and the fulfilling of my song, that from this I might take
comfort and sing with gladness, for I should know the end of mine unhappiness
and that joy were near? Herefore an excellent song I shall sing and my cry and
voice shall soften the hardness of my Beloved also. If He should chastise He
should slake, but punishing gradually, He shall not ay laugh at the pains of the
innocent. And herefore I can be called happy, and have withouten end the
merriest draught of love, withouten all uncleanness; and, all griefs being
cleansed away, may stand in perfectness of joy and holiness, singing worship
with a heavenly symphony; when, truly, amid these needy diseases, the burning of
sweet love has mirthed my mind within my secret soul as it were with music, and
the sweet honeyed memory of Jesu; so that I, greatly gladdened in the song the
which I received from heaven, should not feel the venomous sweetness of unworthy
love -- the which those that flourish in beauty of the flesh think full sweet --
nor should this sturdy earthliness hold me. O fairest and most lovely in Thy
beauty, have mind that for Thy sake I dread not worldly power; and have mind
also that I would cleave to Thee. All love that unwisely cherishes I have cast
out, and I have fled all things that let to love Thee, God; and fleeting
fairness that makes men bond and send women to malice, nor has it liked me to
enjoy plays of youth, that by uncleanness make worthy souls subject to bondage
of folly. Henceforth I ceased not to give Thee my heart, touched by desire; and
Thou hast withholden it so that it should not flow into divers lewdness of
concupiscence and lust, and Thou hast put in me the mind of Thy Name, and hast
opened to mine eyes the window of contemplation. To Thee at last devoted I have
run in ghostly song; but first my heart waxed warm with the fire of love, and
lovely ditties rose up within me. If thou puttest not these things from Thy
sight, the mickleness of Thy pity should move Thee; by the which Thou sufferest
not Thy lovers to be taken too mickle into coldness: and I trow Thou wouldest
lessen my wretchedness, and Thou wouldest not turn Thy face from my longing.
Sorrow certain and wretchedness stand in the body; longing soothly abides in the
soul, until the time Thou givest that I have desired with so great heat; through
love of which my flesh is made lean and foul among the beauteous of this life.
And from the inflowing of it my soul has languished to see Thee whom she has
burningly desired: and that in those seats she might be the secret heaven, and
rest with the fellowship that she desired; and after be taken up where, among
angel signers, she may worship Thee perfectly with love, withouten end. Behold,
mine inward parts have seethed up and the flame of charity has wasted the
gathering of my heart that I have hated, and has put by the slippery gladness of
worldly friendship; and also thoughts that were foul and to be held abominable
it has drawn out. And so without feigning I have risen to mannerly love, that
before had slept in divers outrays of mine errors and umbelapped with darkness;
there with liking I felt the lust of devotion sweetest where I sorrow more to
have trespassed. My friends I pray you hear that no man beguile you! These, and
other such words in the sight of our Maker, burst up from the fire of love; and
no man that is strange to this unmeasured love should dare to use such words the
which is yet disturbed with temptation to void and unprofitable thoughts, and
that has not his mind continually with Christ without gainturning, or is stirred
affectously in any manner about any creature: so that all the movements of his
heart go not to God because he feels himself bound to earthly affection. Full
high is he in charity whose heart has sung these ditties of love, and, hid in
ghostly feasting, beholds not outward fondness. Forsooth marvellously cheered
with eternal desires, he raises himself to heaven by contemplation: from whence
he burns with sweetest love, and is moistened by a draught from the heavenly
passage; and is umbeset and truly transformed with the heat of the happiness to
come, so that he shall eschew all temptation and is set in the height of
contemplative life. And henceforward so continuing in ghostly song in Christ's
praise he is glorified.


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  CHAPTER 62: CHAPTER VI OF DIVERS GIFTS OF GOD'S CHOSEN: AND HOW SAINTS COME TO LOVE IN PRAYING, MEDITATING, LOVING, SUFFERING, ADVERSITY AND HATING VICE, AND THAT LOVE COMES FROM GOD AND THAT HIS LOVE IS NECESSARY, AND THAT TRUE LOVERS FALL NOT BY TEMPTATIONS OF THE 
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The chosen truly that are fulfilled with love, and take more heed in mind to
loving than to aught else, have wonderfully shown to us the secrets of lovers
the which, surpassing in fervour and supernaturally, have received the fire of
love, and with a wonderful desire have yearned after their Beloved Jesu. Divers
gifts truly are disposed to God's lovers: some are chosen to do; some to teach;
some to love. Nevertheless all the holy covet one thing and run to one life, but
by divers paths: for everyone chosen goes to the kingdom of bliss by that way of
virtue in the which he is most used. And if that virtue in which he surpasses
more burningly draws him to the sweetness of God's love, the which is supposed
stronger in the most rest, truly when he shall come to God, he receives for meed
that dwelling-place of heavenly joy and the seat that Christ has ordained to be
had withouten end by the most perfect lovers. The lover therefore says the
glorious ditties of love he has made; and he that is surpassingly chosen to
God's love, first he cares and desires that his heart never depart from his
Beloved; so that the memory of Jesu be to him as melody of music at a feast and
is sweeter in his mouth than honey or the honeycomb. But the longer he exercises
himself in ghostly study the sweeter to him it is. And then it withdraws his
mind from vain and evil thoughts, and binds it to the desires of his Maker, and
altogether gathers it into Christ and it is stabled in Him, the Well of love. So
that he loves Him only, and he prays that he may be glad only in Him. Now sweet
affections come into his soul, and wonderful meditations favourable only to God,
the which being tasted, and spread in this mind with intentness, affect her more
than may be spoken; they lead with great liking and sweetness of spirit to the
contemplation of heavenly things, and they cleanse from desire of worldly
solace. So that God's lover seeks nothing in this world but that he may be in
the wilderness, and only takes heed to the likings of his Maker. Afterward truly
strongly and well used in praying, and given to high rest in meditation, killing
all wickedness and uncleanness, and taking a strait way with discretion, he
greatly profits in the virtue of everlasting love. And his affection goes up on
high, so that the entrance is opened, in the beholding of heavenly mysteries, to
the eye of his mind. The burning also, which before he felt not, begins to
kindle his soul, and whiles he is profitably occupied in that, now quicklier and
now more slowly it warms -- as this corruptible body suffers the soul that it
heavies, and ofttimes with divers heaviness down casts. So that the same soul
anointed with heavenly sweetness, and quickening with heavenly delight, cheers
herself mickle to pass forth by good desire, and irks to dwell in this mortal
flesh. Nevertheless she gladly suffers adversity that happens, for sweetly she
rests in the joy of eternal love. And all these things that happen can not
destroy that joyful song that she had received, made glad in Jesu, nay but the
fiend's falsehoods fly away ineffectual; and the beguiling vanity of worldly
honours goes in despite, nor is fleshly softness sought or loved. These things
are armed against God's chosen so that all they that have their conversation in
heaven might together fall, unavised, to their overturning. But it profits not
to overcome them unless the holy Lover of God, in Christ's Name, resolute and as
it were without strife, being glad says: Tu autem susecptor menus es: Lord, Thou
art my taker,' that the malicious prickings of my froward enemies make me not
unrestful. Gloria mea: my Joy, for in Thee is all my joy. Not in my virtue, for
it is not sent save from Thee. Worthily is all given to Thee, nothing to me. Et
exaltans caput meum: and my head,' that is to say the highest part of my soul by
the which the netherer, Thee favouring, is governed. Lifting her up to ghostly
song and contemplation Thou sufferest her not to be cast down or bound into the
low and foul likings of this world. This soothly is the head that in the oil of
ghostly gladness Thou hast made fat, that it should increase in charity and be
to me a Calix inebrians: that is to say a drink of inward sweetness inebriating
my soul with love of my Maker. And sleepy shall I lie, verily turned from love
of temporal things; and so as it wee with sweetness, feeling nothing of earthly
mirth or heaviness, I shall be led to the everlasting cleanness. Truly in this
sweetness of high love the conscience shines. For cleanness lasts there, and the
heart waxes likingly warm; and the mind, mirthed with gifts, waxes hot. Nor
likes she to behold the pleasures of this exile, but she halses the bitterness
of this world more gladly than the sweetness to follow; for enjoying the
delights that fail not, she ceases not to cleave to the love of Jesu with such
burning desire, that as soon and as lightly thou mightest turn the world upside
down as call back her mind from her Saviour. All things forsooth she hates that
are contrary to God's love; and she burns unweariedly to fulfill those things
that she sees and knows are pleasing to God. This certain she would not leave
for any pain or wretchedness, but would hie the quicklier to do God's will if
she should perceive any hard thing she might offer for that cause. Nor truly
does she think or desire any other thing but to love Christ truly, and to do His
will in everything without ceasing. A mind that has received this burning will,
in goodness from his Beloved, is made rich with devotion from God. Forsooth He
chose her that she might be such a one that might abide Christ's perfect lover;
and be a choice vessel that shall be filled with the noblest liquor of the
sweetness of heavenly life. And His name which is chosen out of thousands shall
continue in everlasting remembrance, and be ever withheld within the self in
thought. And then by God's help she shall cast out all lettings to love and
shall be glad in God. For the darts of our enemies shall not avail against such
a lover, but she shall receive from her love sickerness of conscience, with
untrowed cleanness of inward sweetness, and every hour shall yield up her
spirit. For being in ghostly crying, she is friendlily cleansed every day by the
burning of love, so that no filth of spiritual foulness may last. Whiles in
continual thought she is with God, she casts out all wickedness that the malice
of our enemy moves to; and the fire of love verily biding in her mind, it
cleanses all the contagion of sin that is drawn out by an ungotten desire. Truly
the affection set in a great height is so sicker that it is alway ware of
negligence and casts it away as a deadly enemy; and whiles it lives it leaves
not busyness and dread. For the better a man is, and the more acceptable to God,
the more he burns in charity, and the more he is stirred by the prickings of
love to work more busily and strongly that that belongs to his degree and life.
And he is alway busy that the memory of his sweetest Beloved slide not from his
thought for a minute, that not only as a clothing but as deed he may have and
think of Him whom he knows he is bidden to love with all his heart. And he
greatly dreads lest he be drawn into these things that the least grieve Him. He
certain not only busies him with all his heart to fulfill that -- as he is
bidden -- to love Christ; but also he is taken with great delight, so that he
never forgets his Beloved nor bowing to temporal liking will part himself from
His love -- if he might withouten pain do that he would. He is truly expert that
ghostly liking is sweeter than bodily love; and therefore it were marvel if he
should slip into so great wrongs; and if, forsaking ghostly cheerfulness, he
would make ready to rejoice in this feigned and as it were false felicity; or
overcome by fleshly beauty, would desire that which forsooth ilk holy lover of
God hates. No marvel that fleshly desire has beguiled some; and beauty shown to
the sight has drawn away some wise and even devout men to unlawful halsing,
because they were not perfectly grounded in charity, nor cleaved they alway to
eternal love; wherefore haled by temptations, when they seemed to ascend, before
they might come to height have fallen down. But a true lover of everlasting
doubtless holds himself stable among temptations, and in that strife he wins a
crown, when others, unsteadfast, are slain. And Christ's lovers cease not to cut
away all obstacles, and they shed forth all their heart wholly before their
Maker -- and not as these that have not fastened their foot in love, and, cast
down from the height of their endeavour, wax lean -- but rather going on without
change, stand stable in the well begun, and are nourished and brought forth in
the sweetness of heavenly savour; that they may give light by example of
holiness to them that are without, and within they may burn sweetly with the
fire of love. Errors also of fleshly desire they shall slay by the desire of
cleanness; although no man in this life can fully slaken engendered
concupiscence, or be so perfect that he may live in flesh and never sin. And so
neither by this nor that shall a perfect man be here perfectly healed, but in
heaven where the light of joy comforts his wits to behold God; and everlasting
peace shall discomfit and cast out griefs and heaviness, that now no grief of
corruption be, now when everlasting bliss confirms the discomforter.In the
meantime the mind is awakened and desires to be kindled by abiding love, and it
studies to eschew the liking for these seen vanities. Truly the dregs of sin
abide unto death, but they and the longing of nature perish in death. So that
every chosen one, abling himself to love, and strengthened by high grace against
these dregs, and armed with cleanness, should exercise himself in glorious
battles, and should cast down all things that hostile lovers pursue.Herefore
sickerly whiles the fighting one overcomes and is not overcome he is lift up to
a marvellous mirth in which all his inward members joy. For he feels himself
inspired by a mystery of love, and he ascends on high in honeysweet heat and
contemplates with ghostly song the sweet praise shed forth to the lovers --
hastening to death and to nothingness at the movings of the fleshly
affections.Some add hereto: saying that a sweet thing sounds in his heart, and
ghostly song, wherefore, thirsting, he is ravished and gladdened. But they have
not expounded it so that I could understand how their thought was changed to
song and melody abides in the mind; and in what manner of praising he sings his
prayers.


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  CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER VII THAT A TRUE LOVER ONLY LOVES HIS BELOVED: AND OF DOUBLE RAVISHINGS, THAT IS TO SAY OUT OF THE BODY, AND OUT OF THE LIFTING OF THE MIND INTO GOD; AND OF THE WORTHINESS THEREOF
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The heat of a longing spirit shows in himself a pure love for the fairness of
God. For he seeks nothing but His Beloved, and all other desires he entirely
slakens; and so the mind is freely borne into that it sweetly loves, and the
bond of the lover's will is stably confirmed, whiles nothing happens that may
let a lover from his purpose, nor that may gar him turn again to think of aught
else; so that loving with great easiness he may receive his desire, and all
tarrying being put back, may swiftly run to the halsing of love. Among these
delights which he tastes -- burning in so sweet love -- he feels a heavenly
secret inshed that no man yet may know but he that has received it; and he bears
in himself the lectuary that moistens all joyful lovers in Jesu, and makes them
happy so that they cease not to hie to sit in heavenly seats and endlessly to
enjoy the love of their Maker. After that truly they earn while abiding in
heavenly sights; and set on fire inwardly, all their innermost soul is gladdened
with the playful shining of light; and they feel themselves made glad with
merriest love, and wonderfully melted in joyful song. Therefore their thoughts
are made sweet in His service because studying and meditating on scripture and
also writing they think on their Love, and they go not from their wonted voice
of praise. That forsooth shall be considered marvellous, when one mind shall
fulfill and take heed to two things in one time: that is, it offers worship and
love to Jesu in singing and joying in mind, and together with that, it
understands that that is in books; and neither hurts the other. But this grace
is not given generally and to all, but to a holy soul inbued with the holiest,
in whom the excellence of love shines, and songs of love longing -- Christ
inspiring -- commonly burst up, and being made now as it were a pipe of love,
and joying sounds more goodly than can be said, in the sight of God. The which
soul knowing the mystery of love, with a great cry ascends to his Love. In wit
most sharp and wise, and in feeling subtle; not spread in the things of this
world, but all gathered and set in one God, that he may serve Him in clearness
of conscience and shining of soul, whom he has purposed to love and himself to
give to Him. The clearer certain the love of a lover is the nearer and more
present to him God is. And thereby he joys more clearly in God, and the more he
feels of His sweet goodness, that is wont to inshed itself to lovers and to
glide into the hearts of the meek with mirth beyond comparison. This forsooth is
pure love: when desire of none other thing is mingled with it. Nor has he any
inclination to the beauty of the bodily creature, but rather the sharpness of
his mind being cleansed, is altogether stabled into the one desire of
everlastingness; and with freeness of spirit he continually beholds heavenly
things -- as he that is ravished by the beauty of any whom he beholding cannot
but love. But as it is shown ravishing is understood in two ways. One manner
forsooth is when some man is ravished out of fleshly feeling, so that in the
time of his ravishing he plainly feels nought in the flesh, nor what is done
concerning his flesh; and yet he is not dead but quick, for the soul yet gives
life to the body. And in this manner saints and the chosen are sometimes
ravished to their profit and other men's learning; as Paul was ravished to the
third heaven. And in this manner also sinners are ravished sometimes in a
vision, that they may see the joys of the saints and the pains of the damned for
their own and others correction; as we read of many. Another manner of ravishing
there is, that is the lifting of the mind into God by contemplation. And this
manner of ravishing is in all that are perfect lovers of God, and in none but in
them that love God. And this is well called a ravishing, as the other, for it is
done with a violence and as it were against nature; and truly it is above nature
that of a foul sinner a child fulfilled with ghostly joy may be born unto God.
This manner of ravishing is to be desired and to be loved. Truly Christ had ay
the contemplation of God, but never the withdrawing from bodily governance.
Therefore it is diverse to be rapt by love in the feeling of the flesh, and to
be rapt from bodily feeling to a joyful or dreadful sight. That ravishing of
love I hold best in which a man may earn most meed. To see heavenly things
clearly belongs not to increase of meed, but to reward. They also are called
ravished by love that are wholly and perfectly given to the desires of their
Saviour, and worthily ascend to the height of contemplation. With wisdom
unwrought are they enlightened, and are worthy to feel the heat of the
undescried light, with whose fairness they are ravished. This truly happens to a
devout soul when all her thoughts are ordered in God's love, and all waverings
of mind pass into stableness. And now she neither wavers nor hovers, but with
all desires brought into one and set in full great heat she desires after
Christ; reaching out and given to Him as if there were nothing but these two,
that is to say, Christ and the loving soul. To Him therefore she is tied with
the band of love, unable to be loosed, and by surpassing of mind -- flying above
the bounds of the body -- she draws a marvellous moisture from heaven. To which
she would never have come unless she had been ravished by God's grace from
inward affections, and set in ghostly height; in which, no marvel, she receives
healthful gifts of grace. Whiles therefore she thinks only of godly and heavenly
things with a free heart, not compelled, and knowingly, she sees also her mind
taken above all bodily and visible things, and changed into heavenly. Withouten
doubt it is near that she may verily receive unto herself and feel the heat of
love, and then be molten into ghostly song and the sweetness thereof. That truly
shall follow from this ravishing to him that is chosen thereto; therefore this
ravishing is great and wonderful. Truly as I suppose it passes all deeds of this
life, for it is trowed a foretaste of everlasting sweetness. It passes also,
unless I be beguiled, all other gifts that in this pilgrimage God gives to His
saints for meed. In this truly they are worthy a higher place in heaven who
hereby, in this life, have loved God more burningly and restfully. As to high
rest, it is to be desired to seek and hold it. For in mickle business, or in
unsteadfastness or wavering of mind, it is neither gotten nor holden. Therefore
when any one is lift to this, he lives full of joy and virtue, and shall die in
sicker sweetness; and after this life he shall be full worthy, and near to God
among the companies of angels.In the meantime certain he has sweetness, heat,
and ghostly song -- on which I have before oft touched -- and by these he serves
God, and loving Him, cleaves to Him without parting. But since this corruptible
body grieves the soul, and this worldly dwelling casts down our mind -- thinking
many things -- therefore he sings not ay with such busyness, nor does the soul
cry at all times with evenlike ghostly song. Sometimes; certain she feels more
of heat and sweetness and she sings with difficulty, sometimes truly when heat
is felt less she is ravished to song with great sweetness and busyness. Oft also
with great mirth she flies and passes into ghostly song, and she knows also that
the heat and sweetness of love are with her.Nevertheless heat is never without
sweetness, although sometimes it is without ghostly song, the which also lets
bodily song, and noise of chatterers makes it turn again into thought. In the
wilderness they meet more clearly, for there the Loved speaks to the heart of
the lover -- as it were a shameful lover that halses not his Beloved before men
nor kisses like a friend, but in common and as a stranger.Heavenly joy comes
anon into a devout soul departed, sicker in mind and body, from worldly
business, and desiring only to enjoy Christ's pleasance; and marvellously
mirthing her, melody springs out to her, whose token she receives so that from
henceforward she suffers not gladly any worldly sound.This is ghostly music that
is unknown to all that are occupied with worldly business, lawful or unlawful.
There is no man that has known this but he that has studied to take heed to God
only.


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  CHAPTER 64: CHAPTER VIII THE DESIRE OF A LOVER AFTER GOD IS SHOWN: AND THE CURSED LOVE OF THIS WORLD IS DECLARED BY MANY EXAMPLES: AND THAT THE MEMORY OF GOD ABIDES NOT IN LOVERS OF THE WORLD.
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O sweet Jesu I bind Thy love in me with a knot unable to be loosed, seeking the
treasure that I desire, and longing I find, because I cease not to thirst for
Thee. Therefore my sorrow vanishes as the wind, and my meed is ghostly song that
no man sees. Mine inward nature is turned into sweet song, and I long to die for
love. The greatness of the gifts delights me with light, and the tarrying of
love punishes me with joy, whiles they come that receive me, and in receiving
refresh. But those things want that my Beloved shall show to me, longing: they
wound me, so that I languish, and they heal not yet my languor fully, but rather
increase it; for love growing, languor is also increased. Sic defecit in dolore
vita mea, et anni in gemitibus: thus fails my life in heaviness, and my years in
lamenting; for from my love I am put back, and desire of death is withdrawn, and
the medicine for wretches tarries; and in my crying I arise and say: Heu mihi,
quia incolatus meus prolongatus est: 'Alas, my labour is lengthened! It is love
that noys me; love that delights me; it chastises, because it that so mickle is
loved is not forthwith given; it gladdens, for it refreshes with hope, and by
this heat insheds untrowed comfort. Great longing soothly grows when through the
joy of love the ditty of ghostly love is in the soul, and great heat gives
increase to sweet love; and now nothing is so lawful as to think death, life.
For the flower in which this thought is nourished can not have end, but the joy
that continually waxes great in the lover, and that is thought a wonder, makes
of death and melody all one. Truly when I draw nigh to death, the fullness of my
blessedness, that Almighty God whom I love shall give to me, begins in me.
Soothly my seat is ordained in the place where love cools not, nor may bow to
slowness. His love certain my heart kindles because I can feel His fire, whereby
the strength in my soul knows no grief whiles I am wholly strengthened in the
solace of love. For love I faint, and I spend all my time in holy sighing; and
that shall be no reproach to me before God's angels, for whose fellowship I
burningly desire, and with whom also in strong hope I wait to be perfected. And
the praise that gladdens a longer shall now relax, and the blissful sight that
he desired and loved shall be openly shown with joy. But woe be ay to them whose
days are slipped and passed in vanity, and their years with haste are perished
withouten fruit of charity; that languish in unclean love and, for the fairness
of corrupt flesh -- that is but the covering of filth and corruption -- are led
withouten sweetness to death. Upon whom also is fallen the fire of wrath and
covetousness, and they have not seen the sun of everlasting light. These,
following their vanity, go into exile, having made themselves as vain as were
those things that they have loved. Therefore when they shall be deemed they
shall see Christ sharp and intolerable to their eyes because in this life they
never felt Him sweet in their hearts. They truly that here feel Him sweet in
themselves, doubtless shall see Him well cheered there. Such truly as we now are
to Him, such a one shall He then appear to us; to a lover certain lovely and
desirable, and to them that loved not, hateful and cruel. And yet this change is
not on His part but on ours. He soothly is ay one and unchangeable, but every
creature shall see Him as he is worthy to see. God truly shows Himself wilfully
to ilk man as He will; and therefore He shall appear pleased to the righteous,
and wroth to the unrighteous, in one and at the same little part of time. Truly
the love of a reasonable soul so does that -- be it good or be it ill -- it
shall be deemed after that it does. There is nothing so speedful to get
everlasting joy as the love of Christ: nor nothing sooner brings to utter
damnation as love of the world. Therefore everlasting love should enflame our
minds, and cursed and hateful love of fleshly affections be put far out. May the
sweetness of heavenly life moisten us, and it be not lawful to us to love the
bitter sweetness of this life. For the gall of dragons, that is to say most
cursed wickedness and bitterness of falsehood, is the wine of sinners, because
drinking it they are so maddened that they see not what is to come to them; and
venom of adders, that is killing shrewdness, is deadly drink to them, and they
are unable to be healed for their malice is incorrigible. Truly this world has
delights of wretchedness: riches of vanity: wounding flatterings: deadly
likings: false pleasure: mad love: hateful darkness: in the beginning midday,
and at the end night everlasting. It has also unsalted salt; savourless savour:
foul beauty: horrible friendship: cherishing night: bitter honey and killing
fruit. It has also a rose of stink; joy of lamentation: melody of heaviness: the
praising of despite: the true drink of death: the array of abomination: the
beguiling leader and the prince who casts down. It also has the gem of
heaviness, and scornful praise: blackness of lilies: song of sorrow, and foul
beauty: discording friendship and snow's blackness; solace forsaken: and a needy
kingdom. It has a nightingale roaring more than a cow: a sweet voice withouten
melody: a sheep clad in a fox's skin: and a dove madder than any wild beast.
Flee we therefore bodily and worldly love, whose back has a prick although the
face flatter; whose flower is anointed with gall, and the pap, though it be
privily, bears adders whose savour cuts man's soul from God, and hath burns with
the fire of hell; whose gold shall turn into mould, and shall shed forth the
incense of fire of brimstone. Here is love without meekness, and full liking
madness; the which suffers not the soul bound to it to be joined to the seats of
the saints, or have delight in God's love. To them soothly that have their
desire bowed to the love of these worldly creatures, it is heavy and seems a
great burden to think of God, although the memory of Him be most sweet, and
waxes marvellously sweet to the thinkers. If they begin to think on Him, anon He
slides from their mind, and they turn to their old thoughts in which they full
long have rested. They are bound certain with their evil custom, and angels food
shall not savour to minds so sick and unclean, without great and long use of
ghostly thought and the casting away of fleshly imaginations. They have certain
the palate of their hearts with the fever of wicked love, wherefore they can not
feel the sweetness of heavenly joy. Even if it happens good thoughts come into
their minds, they bide not there; but the tokens of God's inspiration being
straightway put out by the roots of evil, they go from ill to worse; and they
fall the more damnably in that they consented not to that good with which they
were touched. Thus they that are chosen and are utterly burned with the love of
God and cleave to Christ without parting, if at any time ill thoughts should
pluck their soul or do stress to enter, anon looking up to heaven, they cast
them out, and slake them with the heat of their affection. And no marvel,
because by good custom they raise themselves, so that they take no earthly
thing, nor any other thing of venomed sweetness, in which they might have
delight. Soothly he that lives in perfect charity feels no sin nor wicked lust,
but rather joys in his God; and neither anger nor uncleanness heavies him.


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  CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER IX OF DIVERS FRIENDSHIPS OF GOOD AND ILL, AND IF THEY CAN BE LOOSED: OF THE SCARCENESS OF FRIENDSHIP OF MEN AND WOMEN: AND OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP, AND HOW THE CHOSEN JOY IN IT IN THIS LIFE: AND OF THE FOLLY OF SOME THAT ABSTAIN TOO MICKLE, OR ARE NAKE
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Friendship is the knitting of two wills, consenting to like things and
dissenting to unlike; and this friendship can be betwix good and betwix evil,
but by divers affections. It ought mostly to be betwix God and man's soul; the
which is bound to conform her will to God's will in all things, so that what God
wills she wills, and what God wills not neither she wills. Thus soothly shall
full friendship be betwix them. But in human affections where true friendship is
God forbid that the sundering of bodies should make the parting of souls, but
rather the unloosed knot of cleaving friendship shall comfort the heaviness of
bodily sundering, so that the friend shall think he is with his friend, whiles
he sees the steadfastness of their will is unloosed. It is true friendship
certain when a friend behaves him to his friend as to himself; when he thinks
his friend is himself in another body; and he loves his friend for himself, and
not for the profit that he trows he may have from him. But it is asked, if the
one friend err whether shall friendship cease? Some say friendship is not
perfect unless it be betwix them that are like in virtue; but how was that
perfect that might be broken? The one erring is not now perfect, and so
gradually it can go to nought; which is against reason in true friendship where
a man is loved for himself and not for profit or liking. Soothly it is not
necessary for friends that the one be changed on account of the changing of the
other; but it is impossible that friendship -- since it is virtue -- be voided
in any man without his changing. Wherefore it is not broken on account of the
error of the one, but -- and it be true friendship -- it shall be the more busy
to call him that erred back again. And thus it behoves that friendship by which
he wills and gets good for his friend as for himself be called love; and, whiles
they live, for no error can it be broken. Friendship certain is lightly loosed
when that wherefore they should be loved is not found in the friends; that is to
say when the friendship for which now the friends are loved is not profitable
nor pleasing. And such friendship is feigned, for it can not last save whilst
pleasure and profit bide. But that is the cause wherefore true friendship is not
dissolved in friends whiles they live. Therefore true friendship is not broken
whiles they are, but the one can be erring yet both live. And therefore though
one err yet friendship lasts if it be true, because they love each other
according to what they are -- that is as they are good -- and by that it behoves
to be understood goodness not of manners but of nature. Nature truly gars a man
seek him a true friend, for nature desires to keep kindness and faith. And it
works nothing in vain. Wherefore that friendship that is natural shall not be
loosed -- nature being lasting -- unless it be to the great wrong of nature that
the nature loved gainstands; and that can nature in no wise do unless it be
oppressed by corrupt manners. Therefore friendship that kindles anything that is
not the same as that that is loved slakes, and is slakened when the things that
stirred the love are not had; so that if by manners or riches or fairness
friendship be had, with ill manners, sliding riches, and wasted fairness be had,
with ill manners, sliding riches, and wasted fairness friendship vanishes also,
and it is said of him that had it, there is nothing unhappier than to have been
happy. But friendship that nature works in friends is cast out by no poverty,
nor with any error done away, and with no foulness of body ended, whiles the
nature lasts that is the cause of this friendship. Such friendship is purely
natural and therefore it is worthy neither meed nor unmeed, unless it conflicts
ought against God's commandments. It has also a great delight knit with it, in
which it earns neither meed nor unthank. True friendship can not be without
mutual liking betwix friends, and their speech is desirable and their cheer
comfortable. And this friendship -- if it be informed with God's grace and be
altogether in God and if it be given to Him -- so then it is called holy
friendship and is full meedful. But if on account of this friendship anything be
done by the friends against God's will, it is perverse and wrong and foul
friendship, and unclean and unmeedful. I wot not soothly by what unhap it now
befalls that scarcely or seldom is found a true friend. Ilk one seeks his own,
and no man has a friend of whom he says, he is myself in another body. They bow
to their own profits and likings and shame not to fulfill guile in their
friends. Thereof it is deemed that they are not true friends but feigned,
because they love not men but either they covet their goods or they strive after
false flatteries and favours. Yet, forsooth, friendship betwix men and women may
be perilous, for fair beauty lightly cherishes a frail soul, and temptation seen
sets fleshly desire on fire and ofttimes brings in the sin of body and soul; and
so the company of women with men is wont to happen to the destruction of virtue.
And yet this friendship is not unlawful but meedful; if it be had with good
soul, and if it be loved for God and not for the sweetness of the flesh. If
women truly saw themselves despised by men, they would complain of God that made
them such as men should disdain, and they would peradventure mistrust of health;
for they trow themselves forsaken if they receive not the counsel or help of
men. Reason certain is less quick in them, therefore they are lightly beguiled
and soon overcome and therefore they mickle need the counsel of good men. They
are drawn truly from ill to ill. For mickle readier are they to the likings of
lust than to the clearness of holiness. There is also a natural love of man for
woman and woman for man that wants to no man, not even the holy, for it was
ordained by God first in nature; by the which being together, and according by
the stirring of nature they are fellowly made glad. This love also has its
pleasures; as in speech and honest touching and goodly dwelling together, by the
which man gets no meed unless it be mingled with charity; nor gets he unthanks,
unless it be defiled with sin. If ill movings arise by which they think of lust,
and they go towards it, doubtless they are guilty of death, because they sin
against God. Therefore they foully trespass that say that all our deeds, inward
or outward, are meedful or unmeedful; for they would -- or at the least they
strive -- to deny natural deeds and likings to be in us; and thus they are not
ashamed to bring in confusion to noble nature.Certain, that friendship, and
companionship of men and women is unlawful and forbidden in which they accord to
fulfill all their desire of covetous and foul lust; and putting the everlasting
behind they seek to flourish intemporal solace and bodily love. They also sin
grievously, and most, that have taken holy orders and go to women as wooers,
saying that they languish for their love, and nearly faint with great desire and
strife of thought; and so they lead them, light and unstable, to wretchedness in
this life, and also in the endless. But they shall not be left unpunished, for
they bear their damnation with them; of whom it is said by the psalmist:
Sepulcrum patens est guttur corum, etc. That is to say: Their throat is an open
grave, with their tongues they have wrought falsely, deem them God.'God certain
wills that women be not despised of men, nor be beguiled by vain flattery; but
that they be taught truly and charitably in all holiness that longs to body and
soul. But seldom is he found now that so does; but rather -- what is to sorrowed
for -- either to get their gifts or their beauty they study to inform them.
Wherefore ofttimes it happens that if they teach them in one thing, in another
they destroy them; and they will not, or they dare not, forbid those things,
although they be evil, that women please to use, so that they be not
grieved.True friendship certain is the sadness of lovers, and comfort of minds;
relief of grief, and putting out of worldly heaviness; reformation of sinners;
increase of holiness; lessening of slander, and multiplying of good meed. While
a friend is drawn from ill by his friend by healthful counsel and is inflamed to
do good when he sees in his friend the grace that he desires to have. Holy
friendship therefore that has medicine for all wretchedness is not to be
despised. From God it truly is that amid the wretchedness of this exile we be
comforted with the counsel and help of friends, until we come to Him. Where we
shall all be taught of God, and sit in eternal seats; and we shall be glad
without end in Him that we have loved, and in whom and by whom we have
friends.From this friendship I can except no man, be he never so holy, but he
needs it; unless there be any such to whom not man but angels serve. There are
some that joy in God's love and are so moistened with His sweetness that they
can say: Renuit consolari anima mea: My soul gainsays to be comforted' with
worldly cheer with which worldly lovers refresh themselves. Nevertheless it
behoves that in these things that, according to nature and grace, are needful to
their body, and in men they be delighted. Who eats or drinks or takes recreation
from heat or cold, withouten liking? Who has a friend, and in his presence and
speech and dwelling with him and taking part in his good, is not glad? Sickerly
none but the mad and they that want reason, for in these things and others like
is the life of man comforted -- although it be the holiest -- and joys most
quickly in God.Therefore, My soul gainsays to be comforted,' is not to be
understood of such comfort, but of stinking and unclean and unlawful comfort of
worldly things. And afterwards he said: Delectasti me domine in factura tua; et
in operibus mannum tuarum exultabo. 'Lord in Thy work thou hast gladdened me;
and in the work of Thy hands I shall be joyful.' Who denies that he shall
receive comfort that says he is mirthed in God's works? Vir insipiens non
cognoscet, et stultus non intelliget hoc. 'But the unwise man shall not know
this nor a fool understand.'Some truly have the love of God, but not after
knowledge; the which, whiles they study to put by superfluities are also
unwisely led to cut away their necessities, supposing that they can not please
God unless they chastise themselves by too mickle abstinence and unmeasured
nakedness. And although paleness of face be the beauty of solitary man,
nevertheless their service is not rightly ordered; for if they be hidden to
chastise their bodies and bring them into the service of the spirit, yet ought
they not to slay their bodies but keep them for the honour of God, to the time
He sunders the soul from the body to which He has joined it. Therefore such are
sharp to men and bitter in themselves, and they know not the keeping of
friendship, nor keep the way thereof.Forsooth love of kinsmen, if it be
unmannered, is called fleshly affection, and it is to be broken because it lets
from God's love: and if it be mannered it is called natural, and lets not from
God's service; for in that it is nature it works not against the Maker
thereof.Next the women of our time are worthy of reproof that in such marvellous
vanity have found new array for head and body, and have brought it in, so that
they put beholders to both dread and wonder. Not only against the sentence of
the apostle in gold and dressing of the hair, in pride and wantonness, they go
serving, but also against the honesty of man and nature ordained by God, they
set broad horns upon their heads, and a horrible greatness of wrought hair that
grew not there, some of whom study to hide their foulness or increase their
beauty and with painting of beguiling adultery they colour and whiten their
faces. Newly carven clothing also both men and women use full fondly, not
considering what beseems nature, but what tidings, that are newly noised, and
vain novelties they can bring by the fiend's stirring. If any should snib such
things -- yea even full seldom -- he is laughed to scorn; and they consider more
a fond tale than their amends. Therefore they go, and are taken and also snared
by those things -- these ladies and women that are called worthy, that desire to
be fair for a time, and everlasting to be foul. For after this joy they, that
have not loved Christ in this life but the foulest vanity of this world, shall
feel hell pain, having crowned themselves with roses before they withered. But
let us pass now to other things.


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  CHAPTER 66: CHAPTER X THAT GOD'S LOVE IS TO BE MINGLED WITH ILK TIME AND DEED NOR FAILS NOT FOR WEAL OR WOE, AND OF THE WORTHINESS AND THE GAINING THEREOF: AND OF TEARS TURNED TO SONG
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Love of the Godhead that perfectly thirls a man, and truly enflames with fire of
the Holy Ghost, takes the soul to itself with marvellous gladness and from
memory of so great love allows her not to wander for a moment. It binds the mind
of the lover, so that it may not turn to vain things; and he continually goes
after his Love. We can forsooth if we be true lovers of our Lord Jesu Christ,
think upon Him when we walk, and hold fast the song of His love whiles we sit in
fellowship; and we may have mind of Him at the broad and also in tasting of meat
and drink. At every morsel of meat and draught of drink we ought to praise God,
and in time of our meat taking and the space betwixt morsels to yield Him
praising with honey sweetness and a mental cry, and to yearn with desire while
at meat. And if we be in labour of our hands what lets us to lift our hearts to
heaven and without ceasing to hold the thought of endless love? And so in all
time of our life, being quick and not slow, nothing but sleep shall put our
hearts from Him. O what joy and gladness glides into the love? O with how happy
and truly desireable sweetness it fulfills his soul? Love certain is life
without end, abiding where it is set and made firm in Christ. When this love
after loving desire is rooted in the heaven, neither prosperity nor adversity
may change it, as the wisest men have written. Then no marvel it shall turn the
night to day, darkness to light, heaviness to melody, noy to solace, and labour
to sweet rest. This love truly is not of imagination or feigned, but true and
perfect, and given to Christ without parting, yielding angel's song with melody
to Jesu. And forsooth if thou love in this manner as I have said, full glorious
shalt thou be -- with the best and worthiest in the Kingdom of God -- near to
that quickening light. Meantime all the impugnations of the fiend's movings that
arise from fleshly friendship and the coveting of worldly things thou shalt well
overcome in the heat of love and virtue of prayer. Thou shalt also overcome the
likings of fairness; showing that thou wilt not be defiled once on account of
all things that can be thought. With that also thou shalt be filled with ghostly
food, and the delight of endless love; so thou shalt know the sign in sickerness
and as it were in very knowledge, that thou art the lover of the Everlasting
King. Nevertheless this happens to no man unless either God says it to him, or
that in this life he feels a great part of the meed to come biding in him. But
whereto do I speak of them with the others, which although they be chosen have
not yet tasted this holy lectuary? Sometimes I marvel at myself that I have
spoken of the excellence of God's lovers, as who should say, whoever wills might
come to it. And yet it is not for ilk runner nor willer, but of the lover,
lifter up, and taker of Christ. The smallness of my mind certain knows not how
to open that which as a blabberer, I am busy to show. Yet I am compelled to say
somewhat, although it be unable to be spoken, that hearers or readers may study
to follow it; finding that all love of the fairest and loveliest worldly thing,
in comparison to God's love, is sorrow and wretchedness. Therefore consider and
know well with your understanding that our Lord makes His lover marvellous and
raises him on high and suffers him not to be cast down with unworthy love of
vain hope, but keeps him stably in Himself for the sweetest love. Love truly is
continual thought with great desire for the fair, the good and lovely: for if
the thing I love be fair and not good, I show myself unworthy to love it, if it
be good it is to be loved. Truly love of the creature, though it be good and
fair, is forbidden to me, so that I should offer and keep all my love for the
Well of goodness and fairness, that He that is my God and my Jesu be my Love. He
only has fairness and goodness of Himself, and He is the same fairhead and
goodness. Other things, whatever they be, are neither fair nor good but of Him,
and the nearer to Him the fairer and better they are. Therefore He is most
worthily loved that in Himself contains all things that are worthy to be loved
and to be sought of a lover, wherefore He withholds nothing on His part save
that He might be loved most burningly. Truly if I love aught else my conscience
bites me that I love not right. I dread that that I love loves me not again; and
yet if I dread not on this account I should be fearful on account of death that
departs ill lovers and wastes all their vanity. Ofttimes also other noys happen
that disturb the gayness and sweetness of lovers; but he that truly loves God
with all his heart is so much the clearer in his conscience as he knows himself
the more burning in the love of God. Therefore he knows his loveliest Love from
whose sweetness death departs not, but when he passes from this world then he
finds his Love perfectly, and to Him most sickerly is joined, so that never
after shall he be put from Him, but busily he runs in merriest halsing and,
openly seeing Him he has loved and coveted, shall be glorified without end. This
love I liken to fire unslakened, the which no power of enemies can cast down, no
softness of flattery can overcome. This love cleanses us from our sins, and
burns in unmeasured heat the obstacles that might let to love, and in the
hottest flame of God's love makes us clearer than gold and brighter than the
sun. This love brings us ghostly medicine; and I suppose there is no thing among
all others that can be numbered by clerks that may succour us so mickle and
cleanse us and from all dregs of wickedness clear us, as fervent love of the
Godhead and continual thought of our Maker. Tears are wont to wash us from
defaults and heaviness of hearts puts by damnation, but burning love passes all
other things more than can be thought, and makes man's soul shine most
excellently. Therefore before all things that we can do it gets the heart of the
Everlasting King, and is worthy to be contemplated in joyful song. I say not
greeting is unprofitable, nor sorrow of heart uncomely or not to be loved in
this exile, and I marvel that any so highly ravished in song of love can not
greet in his devotion or praying or meditation. Rather I say that the prayer and
meditation of such a lover is turned into song and molten into melody of
heavenly sweetness, so that he gives the sound of angels rather than of man;
anointed by which honied heat he is taken not to heaviness but to joy and, his
tears as it were wiped away, he is mirthed in the spring of endless and true
joy. Our doctors say: the perfect ought to weep, and the more perfect the more
plenteous they should be of tears because of the wretchedness of this life and
the delay of the heavenly life. To me certain a wonderful longing in God's love
was near, and noy of bodily greeting has ceased for the greatness of inward
sweetness. He certain that is not burned with endless love needs to be purged
with tears. Love is enough to chastise him that languishes in everlasting love;
there is no wound greater and sweeter than of love. If such a one forsooth would
weep he is not greatly suffered in privy devotion, in that the Holy Ghost
uprising him, he is rapt in mind, and with angel's sweetness he sings to God his
praises and loving thoughts. The seat of love is lift on high for into the
heavens it runs, and on earth also methinks it subtly and craftily makes men,
sometime lovely, wan and pale. It makes them to wither that afterward they may
wax green, and to fail that they may be strong. Therefore he draws near to the
rest of endless joy, and dreadless himself, mingles with those singing to his
Maker; for the more burningly he loves the sweeter he sings and the more
delicious he feels that that he strongly desired. And if the way seem sharp and
long to them that love not, love nevertheless couples God to man, and with short
labour fulfills the abiders.


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  CHAPTER 67: CHAPTER XI THAT PERFECT LOVE BINDS TO GOD WITHOUT LOOSING AND MAKES MAN MINDFUL OF HIS GOD; BUT LOVE OF THE WORLD FALLS TO NOUGHT. AND OF THE NATURE OF TRUE LOVE, STABLE AND AY-LASTING, SWEET, SOFT, AND PROFITABLE: AND OF FALSE LOVE; VENOMOUS, FOUL, AND U
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This work is perfect if we depart our minds pithily from love of creatures and
join them truly to God without departing. And in this work the more perfect we
be the better we are. This deed is above all others, for all that we do is
referred to this end, so that we be knitted and oned perfectedly to God. And
from this onehead many things draw; that is to say, liking beauty of this world,
vanity of men and women, riches and honours, praise and favour of people.
Therefore we must exercise ourselves to fulfill this work, putting back and
forgetting all things that might let us. Certain the love to which we ascend in
this work is quicker than a burning coal, and shall produce its effect in us,
for it shall make our souls both burning and shining. This is the love that can
not be beguiled by a creature or scorned in heaven nor put from meed. We could
long suffer the flame of this fire if it should ay last in one measure; but
ofttimes it is tempered, lest it waste nature that through the body corrupts and
grieves the soul; for the corruptible flesh suffers not our mind to be
continually borne to God. Certain the heat of very devotion is sometimes
hindered as by sleep, and the misuse of the body or labour; and yet the burning
is not slaked, but it is not felt as it was before. It comes again to us truly
whiles we turn again to God, and makes us mend from sickness of mind and gives
sweetness. It delivers the body also from many sicknesses, and whiles it keeps
us in temperance and soberness it raises our souls to heavenly desires so that
we have no delight in low things. This is the love that ravishes Christ into our
hearts and makes our minds sweet, so that within we burst out in songs of
praise, and as it were in spiritual music we sing. I suppose no delight he like
to this, for it moistens with clear sweetness and gladdens with holy liking. The
soul that receives it is purged with blessed fire and in it bides no rust nor
filth, but it is altogether thirled with heavenly joy, so that our inward nature
seems turned into godly joy and song of love. Thus forsooth everlasting love
gladdens and insheds plenteous delight, so that the friends thereof are not
compelled to bow to any desire for a creature of this world but they may freely
melt in praise and love of Jesus Christ. Learn therefore to love thy Maker if
thou desire to live when thou passest hence; so do that thou mayest love God in
thy life if thou wilt live after thy death. Give all thy mind to Him that He may
keep it from temporal and eternal sorrows. Beware that thy heart be not sundered
from Him though thou be set in adversity or wretchedness; for so shalt thou be
worthy to have Him with joy, and to love Him withouten end. If thou suffer not
the memory of God to slip whether prosperity come or grief; in that certain thou
showest thyself a true lover. O good Jesu, that gavest me life, lead me desiring
into Thy love. Take unto Thee all mine intent so that Thou mayest be all my
desire, nor nothing beyond Thee shall my heart desire. Sorrow certain and all
heaviness would pass from me, and that I desire come to me, if my soul had
received or heard the song of Thy praise. Thy love would ever unwearily bide in
us, so that we can perceive it. Take therefore my mind into Thy power and make
it stable that it come not to nought with vain and unprofitable fantasies, nor
be scorned by errors, nor be bowed to earthly felicity or love or praise, but my
mind being so settled in Thee may in Thy love so burn that by no sudden nor
avised chance it may be cooled. If certain I love any creature of this world
that shall in all kinds please my wish and set my joy and the end of my solace
in it, when it should come to me I well might have dread of the burning and
bitter parting. For all felicity that I have in such love is but greeting and
sorrow in the end, and that pain, when it draws near, most bitterly will punish
the soul. All pleasure also that men have beholden in this exile is likened to
hay that now flourishes and waxes green, but suddenly vanishes as if it had not
been. No marvel that to them that behold rightly, the joy of this world thus
seems; and to them following the solace of those bound in sin; it never abides
in one estate but passes until it come to nought. Nevertheless all stand in
labour and grief, and no man can eschew that. The nature certain of true love
and not feigned is this, that it stands ay stable and is changed by no new
thing. Therefore the life that can find love and truly know it in mind, shall be
turned from sorrow to joy unspoken and is conversant in the service of melody.
Song certain it shall love, and, singing in Jesu, shall be likened to a bird
singing to the death. And peradventure in dying the solace of charitable song
shall not want, -- if it happen to him to die and not go swiftly to his love.
After this passage forsooth he shall be marvellously lifted up into the praise
of his Maker, and singing shall overflow with delights more than may be trowed,
and into the song of the seraphim shall forthwith rise, so that in praising he
shall give light, and continually and endlessly burn. There shall be halsing of
love, and the sweetness of lovers shall be coupled in heart, and the joining of
friends shall stand for ever. The sweet mouth shall give liking kisses and their
love shall never cease. The presence of my Love begets to me gladness unmeasured
and sickerness, and with him I have mind of no heaviness; all adversity vanishes
and all other desires appear not, but are stilled and dispersed; and He alone,
that my mind has alone burningly desired, wholly refreshes and in-laps me. Truly
if thou love Christ with all thy will, thou hatest all filth of wickedness, and
thou givest thy heart to Him that bought it so that He may be thy Lord by grace
and not the fiend by sin. As Christ has truly and unfeared sought thy soul, and
would not cease in seeking until the time thou foundest Him, so to endless joy
thou shalt be led and be near to God in a blessed seat. Therefore I counsel Thee
to love as I have expounded, and take thy place with the angels. Beware thou
sellest not this joy and honour for foul vanity of fleshly lust; wisely consider
that the love of creatures exclude thee not from the love of God. Hate thou no
wretchedness on earth except that they thy pure love can cast over and disturb;
for perfect love is strong as death, true love is hard as hell. Love forsooth is
a light burden, not charging but lightening the bearer; the which makes glad the
young with the old; in the which the discomfiters of fiends joy, having taken
their prey; in which fighters are defended against the flesh and the world. Love
is ghostly wine moistening the minds of the chosen and making them bold and
manly, so that they have forgotten the venomous likings of the world nor have no
care thereof but rather great scorn. Therefore by holy love no lover can lose
but needs win mickle if he keep it truly in his heart. Love without pain bides
in the soul of a lover, as lovers have shown, for love makes perfect and pain
destroys. Making perfect and destroying are contrary, therefore the heart,
loving perfectly, feels no pain nor heaviness, nor is it sorry nor disturbed.
Thus soothly perfect love and wretched heaviness stand not together. Moreover,
that that is done gladly is not done painfully. Soothly a lover works wilfully
and gladly, therefore he has no wretchedness in his work but he is happy; not
constrained, not heavy, but ay showing himself glad and merry.Love therefore is
the sweetest and most profitable thing that ever reasonable creature received.
Love is most acceptable and liking to God; it not only binds the mind with bands
of sweetness and wisdom and joins to God, but also it constrains flesh and blood
that man slip not into beguiling sweetness and into divers desires of errors. In
this love our life should stand and wax mighty and strong. A better dwelling
place nor sweeter found I never, for it has made me and my love one, and made
one out of two.Yet worldly love shall grow and perish as the flower of the field
in summer, and shall be joying no more but as it were one day, so sickerly shall
it last a short while, but after that end in sorrow. And so doubtless it shall
be bitter to fond lovers. Their pride and play in false beauty shall be cast
into filth, that shall be with them endlessly when they are downcast into
torments. These shall not pass; as did their false felicity and the joy they had
in shining beauty, which have gone into voidness, and all that they enjoyed has
swiftly vanished.God truly gives fairness to men and women not that they should
burn together in love despising their Maker -- as all nearly do now -- but,
knowing it as God's gift, they should glorify and love Him unceasingly with all
their heart, and should continually desire that heavenly beauty, in comparison
to which all worldly beauty is nought. For if a lovely form is shown in the
servants of this world, what shall be the beauty of God's children set in
heaven? Therefore let us love burningly, for if we love we shall sing in
heavenly mirth to Christ with melody, whose love overcomes all things. Therefore
let us live and also die in love.


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  CHAPTER 68: CHAPTER XII OF THE FELICITY AND SWEETNESS OF GOD'S LOVE: AND OF THE NIGHTINGALE'S SONG: AND PRAYER FOR PERSEVERANCE OF TRUE GHOSTLY SONG THAT WORLDLY LOVERS HAVE NOT
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Sweeter delight I know not than in my heart to sing Thee Jesu, whom I love, a
song of Thy praise. A better and more plenteous felicity I know not then to feel
in mind the sweet heat of love. Of all things I hold it best to set Jesu in my
heart and desire no other thing. He truly has a good beginning of love that has
loving tears, with sweet longing and desire for things everlasting. Truly Christ
as it were languishes in our love, whiles He to get us hied to the Cross with so
great heat; but it is well said in play love goes before and leads the dawn.' It
was nought but love that put Christ thus low. Come my Saviour to comfort my
soul; make me stable in Thy love so that I never cease to love Thee. Do away
sorrow when I must pass, for there is none such a sinner that can not joy if he
be perfectly turned to Thee. O sweetest Jesu have mind of Thy mercy, so that my
life may be light and fulfilled with virtue that I may overcome my strong enemy.
I pray Thee give me health in this wise that I be not lost with the child of
damnation. Truly since my soul was incensed with holy love, I am set in longing
to see Thy Majesty. Therefore made the bearer of poverty I despise earthly
dignity and care for no honour; my joy truly is friendship. When I began to love
Thy love took my heart and suffered me to desire nothing but love. And then
Thou, God, madest my soul burn in sweet light, therefore in Thee and by Thee I
can die and feel no heaviness. Delectable heat is also in the loving heart, that
has devoured heavy grief in the fire of burning love. And from hence is
sweetness given, principally music going betwixt and softening the soul, where
Thou my God and my Comfort hast ordained Thy temple. That joy certain is full
delicious after which I yearn, and no man may be more covetous in such desire.
Wherefore my loving soul as it were arraying a spouse for the King of the high
Empire, says thus: Love holds my heart with unloosened bands, and sets it in
such governance and binds it so greatly with a marvellous maistry that it is
pleased to think rather to die than to live.' This flower certain can not end
for my friend is so burning in love, he sings the melody and joy of death. In
the beginning truly of my conversion and singular purpose I thought I would be
like the little bird that languishes for the love of his beloved, but is
gladdened in his longing, when he that it loves comes and sings with joy, and in
its song also languishes, but in sweetness and heat. It is said that the
nightingale is given to song and melody all night, that she may please him to
whom she is joined. How mickle more should I sing with greatest sweetness to
Christ my Jesu, that is Spouse of my soul through all this present life that is
night in regard to the clearness to come, so that I should languish in longing
and die for love. But in dying I shall wax strong, and in heat I shall be
nourished; and I shall joy and in joying sing the likings of love with mirth,
and hot devotion as it were from a pipe shall issue and my soul shall yield
angels melody, kindled within, to the most high, and offered by the mouth at the
altar of God's praise. Thus my soul shall alway be greedy to love and never fail
with heaviness or sloth from the desire she received. Soothly holiness of mind,
readiness of will, heat of very desire and turning to God by continuance of
thought, that are in holy souls, suffer them not to sin mortally; and if they
sin through frailty or ignorance, anon they are raised up to true penance by
those pricks, nor shall they bide long in sin although they cleave to the
liking. The venial sin forsooth that they do, they waste in the fire of love --
unless any be cast down by such negligence that they ween that that in which
they trespass by no sin -- and charity is not enough to put away all the pain
merited; or else they have no tribulation wherewith their sin may be purged.
Certain in the coming of love the lover's heart is burned. Hotter than fire is
this marvellous heat, the which most sweetly gladdens the mind and tempers and
shadows from the heat of sins. Good Jesu, give me the organ-like and heavenly
song of angels that in that I may be ravished and Thy worship continually sing;
that Thou gavest to me unknowing and unwise, now to me expert and asking, give
again. Cherish me in my last end I may be found full of fire. Show me sweet
cherishing in Thy good will that my defaults may be here punished and cleansed
in that wise that, in Thy mercy, Thou hast known for him cleaving to Thee; not
as in Thy wrath Thou cherishest those flourishing in this world, to whom Thou
givest temporal prosperity and keepest endless pains. Worldly lovers soothly may
know the words, or the ditties of our song but not the music of our songs; for
they read the words, but they can not learn the notes and tone and sweetness of
the songs. O good Jesu Thou has bound my heart in the thought of Thy Name, and
now I can not but sing it; therefore have mercy upon me, making perfect that
Thou hast ordained. Thy true and busy lover is ravished into ghostly song of
mind, that it is impossible any such sweetness be of the fiend, or such heat
from any creature, nor such song from man's wit: in which if I abide I shall be
safe. It behoves truly we be not glad to do small sins that will to perfectly
eschew great sins. He truly that wilfully and knowingly falls into the least,
ofttimes shall unavised fall into greater. It longs truly to love to desire to
fall into great wretchedness rather than sin once. It is nought needful to him,
but scornful, to seek delight, riches, strength, or fairness, that in the doom
of the everlasting King shall be made a knight, with perfect beauty of members
and clearness of colour; where in the heavenly hall there shall neither be too
mickle nor too little, where he shall serve the Emperor in the world of worlds.
Explicit liber de Incendio Amoris, Ricardi Hampole heremite, translatus in
Anglicum instancijs domine Margarete Heslyngton, recluse, per fratrem Richardum
Misyn, sacre theologie bachalaureum, tunc Priorem Lyncolniensem, ordinis
carmelitarum, Anno domini M. CCCCxxxv in festo translacionis sancti Martini
Episcopi, quod est iiij nonas Iulij, per dictum fratrem Richardum Misyn scriptum
& correctum. </div3> </div2> <pb/> </div1>


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER I FIRST OF CONVERSION
========================================================================

Tarry thou not to our Lord to be turned, nor put it off from day to day; for
ofttimes the cruelty of death ravishes the wretched, and bitterness of pains
suddenly devours them that now irk to be turned. It may not be numbered by us
how many of the worldly wicked presumption has beguiled.Truly it is a great sin
to trust in God's mercy and not cease from sin, trowing God's mercy be so mickle
that He will not give righteous pain to sinners. Work ye therefore whiles it is
day, the night truly comes in which no man may work.' Light or day' he calls
this life, in which we ought never to cease from good working, knowing that
death to us is sicker, the hour of death truly unsicker. The night' he calls
death, in the which our members are bound, and wits put by, and we may not now
work any healthful thing, but shall receive joy or tormentry according to our
works. In a point we live, yea less than a point; for if we would liken all our
life to the life everlasting, it is nought.Therefore how waste we our life in
love of vanity, not without grievous damnation; and all day negligent, without
repenting, we stand idle. Lord, therefore turn us and we shall be turned; heal
us and we shall be healed. Many truly are not healed, but their wounds rot and
fester; for today turned to God, tomorrow are turned from Him; today doing
penance, tomorrow turning to their ill. Of such it is said: we have cured
Babylon and it is not healed, for to Christ it is not truly turned.What is
turning to God but turning from the world and from sin; from the fiend and from
the flesh? What is turning from God but turning from unchangeable good to
changeable good; to the liking beauty of creatures; to the works of the fiend;
to lust of the flesh and the world? Not with going of feet are we turned to God,
but with the change of our desires and manners.Turning to God is also done
whiles we direct the sharpness of our minds to Him, and evermore think of His
counsel and His commandments, that they may be fulfilled by us; and wherever we
be, sitting or standing, the dread of God pass not from our hearts. I speak not
of dread that has pain, but that that is in charity, with which we give
reverence to the presence of so great a Majesty, and alway we dread that we
offend not in any little thing. Soothly, thus disposed, to God we are truly
turned because we are turned from the world.To be turned from the world is
naught else but to put aback all lust, and to suffer the bitterness of this
world gladly for God; and to forget all idle occupations and worldly errands, in
so mickle that our soul, wholly turned to God, dies pithily to all things loved
or sought in the world. Therefore being given to heavenly desires they have God
evermore before their eyes, as if they should unwearily behold Him, as the holy
prophet bears witness: Providebam Dominum in conspectu meo semper, that is to
say In my sight I saw our Lord evermore before me.' Not only the space of an
hour; as do they that set all fair or lovely earthly things before the eyes of
their hearts, which they behold and in which they delight and desire for love to
rest. And after the prophet says: Oculi mei semper ad Dominum; quoniam ipse
evellet de laqueo pedes meos, that is: Mine eyes evermore are to our Lord, for
he shall deliver my feet from the snare.' By this is shewed that except our
inward eyes to Christ unwearily be raised we may not escape the snares of
temptation. And there are many lettings so that the eyes of our heart may not be
fixed on God; of which we put some: abundance of riches; flattering of women;
the fairness and beauty of youth. This is the threefold rope that scarcely may
be broken; and yet it behoves to be broken and despised that Christ may be
loved.Truly he that desires to love Christ truly, not only without heaviness but
with a joy unmeasured he casts away all things that may let him. And in this
case he spares neither father nor mother, nor himself; he receives no man's
cheer; he does violence to all his letters; and he breaks through all obstacles.
Whatever he can do seems little to him so that he may love God. He flees from
vices as a brainless man and looks not to worldly solace, but certainly and
wholly directed to God, he has nearly forgotten his sensuality. He is gathered
all inward and all lifted up into Christ, so that when he seems to men as if
heavy, he is wonderfully glad.But there are many that say they will turn to God,
but they can not yet, they say, for they are holden back by this occupation or
other; whose cold mind sorrowingly we reprove. For withouten doubt and they were
touched with the least spark of Christ's love, anon with all busyness they would
seek which way they might come to God's service, and in seeking they would not
cease until they had found.Ofttimes they feign excuses, which the rather accuses
them more. Riches forsooth withdraws many, and the flattering of women beguiles
them; and they that have long done well sometimes are drowned, by them, in the
worst dykes. For fairness is soon loved; and when it feels itself loved, it is
lightly cherished; and the chosen one is cast down, and after turning or
conversion, he is made worse than he was before. Then his name is blackened, and
he that before was worthy, now is despised of all men and hated of all. I saw a
man truly of whom they said that he chastised his body with marvellous sharpness
for fifteen years, and afterwards he lapsed into sin with his servant's wife,
nor might he be parted from her until his death. In his dying truly they said
that he cursed the priests that came to him, and refused to receive the
sacraments.Therefore the newly turned ought for to flee the occasion of sinning;
and with their will avoid words, deeds, and sights stirring to ill. The more
unlawful a thing is, the more it is to be forsaken.The feind also strongly
upbraids against them which he sees turned from him and turned to God, and
ceases not to kindle fleshly and worldly desires. He brings to mind lusts done
before, and the desolation of the contrite; and unprofitable desires that were
slaked before stir themselves. Among these it behoves the penitent manfully to
use himself, and to take ghostly armour to gainstand the devil and all his
suggestions; and to slake fleshly desires and ever to desire God's love; and to
go not from Him, despising the world: of the which now we will speak.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER II OF THE DESPISING OF THE WORLD
========================================================================

To despise this world is to pass through this life without the love of all
temporal and passing things; to seek nothing in this world but God; for all
vainglory and solace not to care; scarcely to take thy necessaries, and if they
sometimes want, to bear it goodly. This is the despising of this world. Have
this in mind if thou wilt not be slain through love of it. Thus is the world
despised and not loved. All soothly that we love, we worship; it is also foul to
worship dirt, that is to love earthly things. Therefore these rich niggards bind
themselves thrall in most foul filth and stink, and joy to be called lords of
men, though they be servants of sin. If a man be lord of men, that is not of
nature but of fortune. That man is subject to vice is from a froward will. Put
away therefore thy wicked will, and thou shalt be free from the fiend and from
sin and made the servant of righteousness that teaches thee not to love earthly
things. Covetousness of the world and the love of God truly are contrary, and
rest not together in one soul. The place is so strait, that one falls out. The
more soothly thou castest out covetousness the more thou tastest God's love. The
more covetousness, the less charity. O wretched soul, what seekest thou in this
world where thou seest that all things are deceitful and passing? They soonest
beguile thee that most flatter thee. Why busiest thou thyself for mortal things?
Why yearnest thou with great desire for the things that shall perish? Seest thou
not that they perish sooner than they are gotten? But I wot where thou dwellest,
where Satan's seat is; that has blinded thine eyes and by his falsehoods has
scorned thee: so that thou shouldest desire fleeting things, and love hateful
things, and despise abiding things, and be drawn to things vanishing. And so
thou settest thyself on a false ground, and when thou weenest to stand thou
fallest into the fire. The dwellers in temporal plenty are beguiled by five
things that they love: by riches; by dignity; by will; by power; and by honours.
These bind them in sin, and constrain them in defaults; with these lusts they
are overcome, and never are loosed but by death; but their loosing is too late
when there is no more save endless pain. This lets them from despising the
world; from God's love; from knowledge of themselves; from the desire for the
heavenly kingdom. No man may be saved unless he cease to love the world with all
that is therein. Cease therefore whiles heat is in the body and the fair age of
youth yet abides. What things shall delight him that disposes himself to love
Christ? He will despise youth and will keep his strength for God; riches he
counts for nought; he will take heed that this fairness is vain, and grace
deceitful. Whereto shall I run on one by one? He shall perfectly despise all
things that in this world pass as a shadow. O lover of the flesh, what findest
thou in thy flesh wherefore thou so delightest in it? Does the form or shape
please thee, or hast thou now thy joy in a skin? Why takest thou not heed what
is hid under the skin? Or knowest thou not that fleshly fairness is the covering
of filth, and the dregs of corruption, and oft the cause of damnation? Therefore
be it enough for thee, all other things being despised, to love God; to praise
God; with God to be; in God to joy; and from Him not to part; but to cleave to
Him with unslakened desire. The world itself compels us to despise the world
that is so full of wretchedness; in which is abiding malice, destroying
persecution, swelling wrath, fretting lust, false blaming for sin, and
bitterness of slander; where all things are confused and withouten order; where
neither righteousness is loved nor truth approved; where faithfulness is
unfaithful, and friendship cruel, that stands in prosperity and falls in
adversity. There are yet other things that should move us to the despising of
the world: the changeableness of time; shortness of this life; death sicker; the
chance of death unsicker; the stableness of everlastingness and the vanity of
things present; the truth of the joys to come. Choose what thou wilt. If thou
love the world, with it thou shalt perish; if thou love Christ, with Him thou
shalt reign.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 71: CHAPTER III OF POVERTY
========================================================================

If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all that thou hast and give it to the poor and
come and follow Christ. In the forsaking of worldly things and in the following
of Christly things, it is shown there is perfection. Forsooth all that have
forsaken their goods follow not Christ, for many are worse after the forsaking
of their good than they were before. Then certain they serve backbiting, and
they dread not to withdraw the good fame of their neighbours. Then they swell
with envy; they gnash with malice; they set themselves before all others; they
praise their state, all others they either dispraise or condemn. Trowest thou
how that the fiend has beguiled such, that neither have the world nor God, whom
by divers wiles he leads to endless tormentry. Thou that understandest that I
have said, take thy poverty another way. When He says go and sell' He marks the
changing of thy desire and of thy thought, as thus: he that was proud now be
lowly; that was wrathful now be meek; he that was envious now be charitable;
before covetous, now generous and discreet. And if he were unclean, now let him
abstain not only from all ill but from all likeness of ill. And if before he
exceeded in meat or drink, now by fasting let him amend. He soothly that loved
the world too mickle, now let him gather himself altogether in Christ's love;
and fasten all the waverings of his heart in one desire for things everlasting.
And so no marvel that willful poverty shall be fruitful to him, and the noy that
he suffers for God be a glorious crown. Beati pauperes spiritu, quoniam ipsorum
est regnum coelorum. That is to say: Bless be they that are poor in spirit, for
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' What is poverty of spirit but meekness of
mind, by the which a man knows his own infirmity? Seeing that he may not come to
perfect stableness but by the grace of God, all things that might let him from
that grace he forsakes, and he sets his desire only in the joy of his Maker. And
as of one root spring many branches, so of wilful poverty, taken in this wise,
proceed virtues and marvellousness untrowed. Not as some that change their
clothes and not their souls; soothly it seems they forsake riches, yet they
cease not to gather innumerable vices. What is worse than a proud poor man? What
more cursed than an envious beggar? If thou truly forsake all things for God,
see more what thou despisest than what thou forsakest. Take heed busily how thou
followest Christ in manners. Discite, inquit, a me quia mitis sum, et humilis
corde. 'Learn of me,' He says, for I am meek and lowly of heart.' He says not
learn of me for I am poor. Truly by itself poverty is no virtue but rather
wretchedness; nor for itself praised, but because it is the instrument of virtue
and helps to get blessedness, and makes many eschew many occasions of sinning.
And therefore it is to be praised and desired. It lets a man from being
honoured, although he be virtuous; but rather it makes him despised and
over-led, and cast out among lovers of the world. To suffer all which for Christ
is highly needful. Therefore Christ to our example led a poor life in this way,
for He knew that for them that abound in riches and liking it is hard to enter
into heaven. Therefore so that men should desire poverty more greedily He has
promised high honour and the power of justice to them that forsake all things
for Him, saying: Vos qui reliquistis omnia et secuti estis me, sedebitis super
sedes duodecim, judicantes duodecim tribus Israel, that is to say: Ye that have
forsaken all things and followed me, shall sit on twelve seats, deeming the
twelve tribes of Israel.' They soothly that have wilful poverty and want in the
meekness and lowliness that Christ teaches, are more wretched than they that
have plenty of all riches, nor shall they take the apostles places of worthiness
in the day of doom; but they shall be clad with the doublet of confusion, that
is damnation of body and soul. They soothly that shine in meekness and
lowliness, though they have mickle riches, yet shall they be set on the right
hand of Christ when He deems. Some men soothly say: we can not leave all, we are
sick; it behoves us to keep our necessaries that we may live, and that is
lawful. But they are the less worthy, for they dare not suffer anguish, poverty
and neediness for God. Yet by the grace of God they may come to the height of
virtue, and lift themselves to the contemplation of heavenly things, if they
forsake secular occupations and errands, and unwearily rise to meditate and
pray; and hold not the goods they have with full love, but having them, forsake
them. Take heed also: to seek more than enough is foul covetousness; to keep
back necessaries is frailty; but to forsake all things is perfectness. Therefore
whiles they see high things that they can not reach, they empride not nor
presume because of the small things that they have, so that they may mannerly
ascend to the ordering of man's life: of which now follows.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER IV OF THE SETTING OF MAN'S LIFE
========================================================================

So that a man may be righteously directed to the worship of God and to his own
profit and the profit of his neighbour, four things are to be said. First: what
is it that defiles a man. There are three sins, or three kinds of sin; that is
to say of thought, of mouth and of work. A man sins in thought when he thinks
aught against God. If he occupies his heart not with the praise and loving of
God, but suffers it to be abstracted or stirred with divers thoughts, and to go
void in the world. In mouth he sins when he lies; when he forswears; when he
curses; when he backbites; when he defends a wrong; when he uses fond speech, or
foul speech; or brings forth vain things or idle. In deed he sins many wise: by
lechery; touching sinfully, or kissing; defiling himself wilfully; or, without
great cause, procuring or sustaining occasions by which he trows he might be
defiled; in robbing; stealing; beguiling; smiting; and other such. Secondly:
which are they that cleanse a man? And they are three, against the three
aforesaid, that is to say: Contrition of thought and pulling out of desires that
belong not to the praise or worship of God and love of Him. Confession of mouth,
that ought to be timely, bare, and whole. Satisfaction of deed, that has three
parts, that is to say: Fasting because he has sinned against himself; prayer
because he has sinned against God; alms because he has sinned against his
neighbour. Yet I say not he should do alms of other men's goods, but he should
restore; for sin is not forgiven unless that that is withdrawn, be restored.
Third: which things keep cleanness of heart? And they are three: lively thought
of God, that there be no time in which thou thinkest not of God except in sleep
that is common to all; busy keeping of thine outwards wits, that tasting,
savouring, hearing, and seeing they may wisely be restrained under the bridle of
governance. The third is honest occupation, as reading of holy writ, speaking of
God, writing, or some other good deed doing. There are three things also that
save cleanness of mouth: avisedness of speech; to eschew mickle speech; and to
hate lying. Also three things keep cleanness of working: moderation in meat;
fleeing ill company; and oft to mind of death. The fourth: which things are they
that allure us to conform us to God's will? And there are three. First, the
example of creatures, that is had by consideration; the goodliness of God, that
is gotten by meditation and prayer: and mirth, of the heavenly kingdom, that is
felt in a manner by contemplation. The man of God set to live in this wise shall
be as a tree that is set by running waters -- that is the flowing of grace -- so
that he shall always be green in virtue and never be dry by sin; and shall give
fruit in time; that is, he shall give good works as an example, and good words
to the worship of God, and these he shall not sell for vainglory. He says in
time' against them that give example of fasting in time of eating, and the
reverse way also; and against covetous men that give their fruit when it is
rotten; or else they give not until they die. Therefore he prays wisely who
says: Bonitatem et disciplinam et scientiam doce me, that is to say: goodliness,
discipline and knowledge teach me.' What is discipline but the setting of, or
correcting, of manners? First therefore we are taught righteousness, and
corrected of ill by discipline; and after that we know what we should do, or
what we should eschew. At the last we savour not fleshly things, but everlasting
heavenly and godly. And when a man with all busyness has dressed himself to the
will of his Maker and grown in virtue, and has passed another that peradventure
went before, in steadfastness of living and desire of Christ, he ought not
thereof to joy nor give praise to himself, nor trow himself better than others
-- although they be low -- but rather hold himself as the foulest and most
wretched. He shall deem no man but himself, and all others set before himself;
he shall not desire to be called holy of men, but worthy to be despised. When he
comes amongst men, he should procure to be last in number and least in opinion;
for the greater thou art the more shouldest thou meek thyself in all things and
then thou shalt find grace before God to be made high. For the might of God is
great, and honoured by the meek; therefore it is despised by the proud, for they
seek their own joy not God's worship. Truly if thou takest with gladness the
favour of the people and the honour of men that is done to thee for thy holiness
and good fame in this life, know it well thou hast received thy meed. And if
thou seemest marvellous in penance and chastity whiles thou joyest more in man's
joy than in angels' in the time to come nought but tormentry shall be for thee.
Therefore thou oughtest perfectly to despise thyself, and entirely to forsake
all joy of this world, and to think nor do nothing but in the sight of God's
love, that all thy life, inward and outward, may cry the praise of God. In meat
and drink be thou scarce and wise. Whiles thou eatest or drinkest let not the
memory of thy God that feeds thee pass from thy mind; but praise, bless, and
glorify Him in ilka morsel, so that thy heart be more in God's praising than in
thy meat, that thy soul be not parted from God at any hour. Thus doing, before
Christ Jesu thou shalt be worthy a crown, and the temptations of the fiend, that
in meat and drink awaits most men and beguiles them, thou shalt eschew. Either
soothly by immoderately taking of food they are cast down from the height of
virtue, or by too mickle abstinence they break down that virtue.Many truly there
are that always fluctuate in eating, so that over little or over mickle they
always take; and the form of living they never keep whiles they trow that now
this, now that, be better. The unwise and untaught, which have never felt the
sweetness of Christ's love, trow that unwise abstinence be holiness; and they
trow they can not be worthy of great meed with God unless they be known as
singular of all men by scarceness and unrighteous abstinence.But truly
abstinence by itself is not holiness, but if it be discreet it helps us to be
holy. If it be indiscreet it lets holiness, because it destroys discipline,
without which virtues are turned to vice. If a man would be singular in
abstinence he ought to eschew the sight of men and their praising, that he be
not proud for nought and so lose all: for men truly ween they be holiest that
they see most abstinent, when in truth ofttimes they are the worst.He certain
that has truly tasted the sweetness of endless love shall never deem himself to
pass any man in abstinence, but the lower he supposes himself in abstinence with
himself, the more he shall be held marvellous with men. The best thing, and as I
suppose pleasing to God, is to conform thyself in meat and drink to the time and
place and estate of them with whom thou art; so that thou seem not to be wilful
nor a feigner of religion.Know it truly, without doubt, if one or two think well
of him, yet others will call him an hypocrite or a feigner. But there are some
covetous of vainglory that in no wise will be holden as common men; for either
they eat so little that they always draw the speech of men to them, or they
procure other manner of meats to be seen diverse from others: whose madness and
obstinacy be far from me.Truly it is wholesome counsel that they that fast
little give preference to them of greater abstinence, and since they may not do
so great abstinence be sorry in mind. And they that are of great abstinence
should trow others higher in virtue; whose virtue, in which they surpass, is
hidden to men, whiles their virtue, that is to say abstinence, is praised of
many. But unless it be dight with meekness and charity before Christ, it is
nought.It behoves him truly to be strong that will manfully use the love of God.
The flesh being enfeebled with great disease ofttimes a man cannot pray, and
then mickle more he cannot lift himself to high things with hot desire. I would
rather therefore that a man failed for the greatness of love than for too mickle
fasting; as the spouse said of herself: Nunciate dilecto quia amore langueo;
that is: Show thyself to my love, for I long for love.'Be thou therefore
steadfast in all thy ways and dress thy life after the rule shown to thee, and
if thou may not get that thou desirest in the beginning mistrust not, but abide;
for by long use and time thou shalt come to perfection.If thou be a pilgrim and
rest by the way, whatever thou dost in this life to God ever have an eye. Let
not thy thought go from Him; think that time lost in which thou thinkest not of
God. In the night praise Him and desire His love, that sleep may not find thee
in any other wise occupied than praying or thinking of God. See that thou flow
not with vain thoughts, nor give thyself to many charges, but study to get and
hold this steadfastness of mind so that thou dread not the wretchedness of this
world nor desire the goods thereof unmannerly. He that dreads to suffer
adversity knows not yet how it behoves us to despise the world; and he that joys
in earthly things is far from everlasting things.To the virtue of strength truly
belong all adversities and prosperities; and also to despise death for endless
life. And charity is to desire only heavenly things. A perfect lover forsooth
joys to die, and suffers life meekly. To which perfection if thou ascend by the
gift of Christ, yet shalt thou not be without tribulation and temptation: to
show which our words shall turn.


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  CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER V OF TRIBULATION
========================================================================

When the fiend sees one man out of thousands perfectly turned to God; following
the steps of Christ; despising this present world; loving and seeking only the
things unseen; taking perfect penance; and purging himself from all filth of
mind and body: he devises a thousand beguilings of annoyance and a thousand
crafts of fighting to cast him from the love of God to the love of the world,
and to fill him again with the filth of sin so that at the least with lecherous
thoughts he should be made hateful to God. He raises against him persecution,
tribulation, slander, false blame for sins, and all kinds of hatred; so that
pain may slay and break him that prosperity could not beguile. Now sharpness,
now cherishing, he puts before him, and he brings to mind images of bodily
things; he gathers together fantasies of sin; he gaincalls old shrewdness and
delights of past love; he inflames heart and flesh with lecherous fire. He
begins with the least but he comes to the greatest flame of wickedness. And with
as great busyness he studies to blow against us all kinds of temptation,
tormentry and tribulation, as he sorrows that we, by the mercy of God, have
escaped from his cheeks. He seeks nothing but that he might depart us from the
unbodily embrace, sweetest and most chaste, of everlasting love; and afterward
defile us in the pit of wretchedness. That were more wretched for us than I can
tell. Who can think his madness that from the delicacies of kings would come
down to swine's meat? And yet is he more mad that forsakes the delicious meat of
unwrought wisdom and puts himself under the filth of the flesh. Is not gluttony
and lechery swinish filth, and they that do such, feed they not fiends?
Therefore how we must do against the tribulation and temptations of our enemies,
and how to gainstand, shall patience teach us; of which now we will speak.


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  CHAPTER 74: CHAPTER VI OF PATIENCE
========================================================================

The children of God disdain to come down to the meat of unreasonable beasts, but
truly they despise all unlawful lusts and worldly solace for the love of Christ.
He truly that is fed with the bread that comes from heaven inclines not his
desire to those things that are moved by the devil. When temptations arise or
tribulation, ghostly armour is to be taken and it is time to go to battle.
Temptations truly are overcome with steadfastness of faith and love; tribulation
truly with patience. What is patience but goodly and wilful suffering of
adversity? He therefore that is patient murmurs in no grief, but rather at all
times with the prophet praises God. The more patient a man is in his noys the
more glorious shall he be in heaven. Gladly therefore are tribulations to be
suffered in adversity, noys and bitterness, pains and sickness and thirst; for
by these and such other our sins are cleansed and meeds increased. Truly it
either behoves us in this life [to be burnt with the fire of God's love and of
tribulation, or else after this life] with the fire of purgatory or hell to be
most bitterly crucified and punished. Choose therefore; we shall not escape the
one. Here truly with little pain, yea with joy, if we cleave to God, we may
eschew all pain to come. Therefore tribulations are sent to us to call us from
the love of the world, that we be not punished more grievously in the other
life. With sorrow truly it behoves us to be cleansed of that ill we did in lust.
If sinners build upon our backs, they noy us not, if we suffer it patiently, but
themselves; for if they put us to a little pain for us they work a crown, but
for themselves tormentry. The sinful truly are suffered to pass this life
withouten great tribulations; for in the time to come no joy is kept for them.
Therefore holy men love tribulations, for they wot by them to win to endless
life. Contrarily the rejected always murmur in adversity, and flee all that they
can; for whiles they are given too mickle to seen things, they are deprived of
the hope of things everlasting. In outward things only they find solace, because
they have fully lost the savour of heavenly. There is no reasonable soul here
abiding but either she loves creatures, or the Maker of creatures. If she loves
creatures she loses God and goes, with the good loved, to death. Truly such love
in the beginning is labour and fondness; in the middle languor and wretchedness;
and in the end hatred and pain. He soothly that loves his Maker forsakes omnia
quae that is in the world, and he thinks it full sweet of Him and with Him to
speak; his refreshment is to think on Him. He bolts his outward wits that death
ascend not by the windows; and that he be not unprofitably occupied in vanity.
And sometimes despisings, reproofs, scorns, and slanders are raised against him,
and therefore it is needful to take the shield of patience and be readier to
forget wrongs than to know them. He shall pray for their turning that hate him
and cast him down, and shall care not to please man, but dread to offend God. If
thou be tempted in the flesh make it subject, that the spirit be not overcome.
Temptation truly that we consent not to is a matter for using virtue. For no man
wots whether he be weak or strong until the time he be assayed. Likewise in
peace no man is called patient, but when he is pulled with wrong; then he should
see if he have patience. Many seem patient when they are not pricked, but when a
soft blast -- I say not of wrong but of correction -- touches them, anon their
mind turns to bitterness and wrath; and if they hear one word against their will
they give again two more ungodly: into whose counsel my soul comes not.
Therefore the darts of our enemy are to be slakened with the meekness and
sweetness of Christ's love; nor is place to be given to temptation, although it
be grievous. For the greater battle the worthier victory and higher crown, as
says the psalm: Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem, quoniam cum probatus fuerit
accipiet coronam vitae, etc.; that is to say: Blest be the man that suffers
temptation, for when he is proved a crown of life he shall receive that God
behested to His lovers.' Doubt not that thou art in the perfect life if
despising be to thee as praising, poverty as riches, hunger as meat; so that
thou sufferest them with even soul, and if thou fall in nought from height of
mind. Flee and hate as mickle as thou canst the praise of man; for it is most
praiseworthy to be worthy of praising, and not to be praised of men. The tongues
of flatterers beguile many, and also the tongues of backbiters destroy many.
Despise thou therefore favour, worship, and all vainglory; suffer meekly wraths,
hatreds, and detractions; and so by slander and good fame, by tribulations and
anger cease not to make haste to the heavenly kingdoms. Ofttimes we fall, so
that taught by many chances we should stand more strongly. The strong dread not,
nor are the patient heavy, in adversity, as it is written: Non tristabit justum
quicquid ei acciderit. Whatever happens to the righteous man it shall not heavy
him.' Thus disposed, no marvel thou shalt overcome all temptation and slake all
malice; thou shalt see thy noyers more wretched than thee, and with all thy mind
thou shalt cleave to Christ.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 75: CHAPTER VII OF PRAYER
========================================================================

If thou be set in temptation or tribulation, to prayer anon run. Truly if thou
prayest clearly thou shalt have help. Distractions sometimes come and waverings
of heart, and thoughts of divers things ravish the heart and suffer it not to
stand in the praising of God. Then peradventure it were good a while to think of
holiness, until the mind is more stabled, and so thy prayers are fulfilled.
Truly if any have left all worldly occupations for the love of God, and always
are given to holy prayer and holy meditation, I trow that by God's grace within
a short space they shall find their heart is stabled to love and pray. They
should not waver now to this and now to that, but rather abide in rest and
endless peace. Full mickle it strengthens to get stableness of heart to be busy
in frequent prayers, and devoutly to sing psalms. With busy prayers truly we
overcome fiends, and we loosen their waitings and stirrings. They are enfeebled
and as it were without strength, whiles we, strong and not overcome, bide in
prayer. Truly those men that have it in custom with long exercise to pray,
sometimes find more sweetness and more fervent desire of prayer. Therefore
whiles that sweetness and heat last it is good not to cease from prayers. When
they cease -- that often happens because of the corruptible flesh -- they may
turn to read holy scripture, or do some other profitable thing, that they suffer
not their thought to waver from God, so that when they rise to pray again they
may be quicker than they were before. Truly then we pray well when we think of
no other thing, but all our mind is dressed to heaven and our soul is enflamed
with the fire of the Holy Ghost. Thus truly a marvellous plenteousness of God's
goodness is found in us; for from the innermost marrow of our hearts shall the
love of God rise, and all our prayer shall be with desire and effect; so that we
overrun not the words, but nearly every syllable with a great cry and desire we
shall offer to our Lord. Our heart being kindled with hot fire our prayer is
also kindled, and in the savour of sweetness is offered by our mouth in the
sight of God, so that it is great joy to pray. For whiles in prayer a marvellous
sweetness is given to the one praying, the prayer is changed to song. Here some
are reproved that rather take heed to meditation than to prayer, not knowing
that God's speech is fired; and with it the filth of sin is cleansed, and the
minds of prayers are enflamed with love. They say that they will first meditate
and so stable their hearts; but they are stabled the later in that they are not
comforted by prayer. Although we can not gather our hearts together as we would
yet may we not leave off, but little by little we should study to grow in
prayer, that at the last Jesu Christ may stable us. To which meditation helps if
it pass not measure and manner.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 76: CHAPTER VIII OF MEDITATION
========================================================================

The meditation of Christ's passion and His death is good; and oft to recall what
pain and wretchedness He freely took for our health in going about and
preaching, in hunger, thirst, cold, heat, reproaches, cursings, and sufferings;
so that it be not grievous to an unprofitable servant to follow his Lord and
Emperor. He truly that says he dwells in Christ ought to walk as He did. Christ
says truly by Jeremy: Have mind of my poverty and of my passage, of wormwood and
gall; that is to say, of sorrow and bitterness, by which I went from the world
to the Father. Truly this mindfulness or meditation overcomes the fiend and
destroys his crafts; it slakes fleshly temptation and kindles the soul to
Christ's love; it raises and cleanses, and also purges the mind. I trow this
meditation is most profitable of all others to them that are newly turned to
Christ. For there truly is shown the manhood of Jesu Christ, in the which man
should be repeatedly glad; in which he has matter for joy and also mourning. Joy
for the sickerness of our gainbuying; heaviness for the filth of our sinning, on
account of which it is to be grieved for that so worthy an offering is offered.
For the boisterous and fleshly soul is not ravished into the contemplation of
the Godhead unless all fleshly lettings be wasted away by ghostly meditation and
contemplation of the manhood. Truly when a man begins to have a clean heart, and
no image of bodily things can beguile him, then sickerly he is admitted to high
things, that in love of the Godhead he may be wonderfully made glad. Some think
truly on the joy of the blessed angels and holy souls joying with Christ; and
this thought belongs to contemplation. Some think on the wretchedness of man's
condition and his filth, and they dispute in their thoughts about man's folly
that for the vanities of this life forgets the joys unseen. Others thus dispose
their thoughts: that they will nothing but the praise and desire of their Maker,
so that they love Him as much as is possible for men in this life. To this
meditation no man comes but he that is mickle used in these things before
rehearsed. For truly it is a more excellent manner than others and makes a man
most contemplative. Therefore as the works and uses of saints are divers, so are
their meditations divers. Yet all, because they come of one spring, go to one
end, and they come or lead to one bliss; but by divers ways, through the one
charity, that is more in one than another. Therefore the psalm says: Deduxit me
super semitas justitiae; that is, He has led me upon the paths of
righteousness;' as if to say, there is one righteousness and many paths by which
we are led to the joy of the life everlasting; because whiles all are one in
being, they are of divers needs, and in one righteousness they are led to God by
divers paths. Some go by a low path, some by a mean, and some by a high. The
higher path is given to him that is ordained from eternity to love Christ more,
not because he works more than others, or gives more or suffers more, but
because he loves more. Which love is heat and sweetness, and it seeks rest in
all men. No man may set himself in any of these paths; but he takes to that
which God chose him. Sometimes they that seem in the higher are in the lower,
and the reverse; for that is only inward in soul before God, not in anything
that may be done outward of man. According to the disposition and desire of
their meditation they are dressed to this path or to that. By outward works no
man may be known who is more or who less before God. Therefore it is folly to
deem of the chosen and say: he passes him; or, his merits are far below the
meeds of this one, when plainly they know not their minds; the which if they
knew they might lawfully deem. Therefore truly God wills it to be secret from
all creatures, that they despise not some too mickle, or honour some too mickle.
For doubtless if they saw men's hearts, many that they honour they would despise
as stinking and foul, and others that they set not by, nor yet desire to see,
they would honour as most lovely, and as the holy angels. Good thoughts also and
meditations of the elect be of God, and such by His grace He sheds forth to each
one as best accords to their state and condition. Therefore I can tell thee my
meditations, but which is most effectual for thee I cannot opine, for I see not
thy inward desires. I trow truly that those meditations in thee most please God
and most profit thee that God by His mercy sheds in thee. Nevertheless in the
beginning thou mayest have the words of other men; that I know well by myself.
Truly if thou despise the teachings of doctors and trow that thyself mayest find
something better than they teach thee in their writings, know forsooth that thou
shalt not taste Christ's love. For truly it is a fond saying: God taught them,
why therefore shall He not teach me?' I answer thee: because thou art not such
as they were. Thou art proud and sturdy, and they were lowly and meek; and they
asked nothing of God presuming, but meeking themselves under all, took knowledge
from the saints. He taught them therefore so that we should be taught in their
books. If truly thou now desirest the love of Christ in thy meditations, or to
resound His praises -- as meseems -- thou art well disposed. But the thoughts in
which thou feelest more sweetness in God profit thee more. To meditate well
without sweetness profits thee little, except in that case when the need for
sweetness is not felt.


========================================================================
  CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER IX OF READING
========================================================================

If thou desire to come to the love of God, and be kindled in thy desire for
heavenly joys, and be brought to the despising of earthly things, be not
negligent in meditating and reading holy scripture; and most in those places
where it teaches manners, and to eschew the deceits of the fiend, and where it
speaks of God's love, and of contemplative life. Hard sayings may be left to
disputers and to wise men used for a long time in holy doctrine. It helps us
truly mickle to profit in good. By this we know our defaults and good deeds; in
which things we sin, and in which not; what we should do, and what forbear; and
the most subtle deceits of our enemies are opened to us. They kindle to love,
and prick to weeping. If we have delight in them as it were in all riches, they
prepare us a table of delights. But let not covetousness of the honour or favour
or praise of men kindle us to knowledge of scripture, but only the intent to
please God; that we may know how we should love Him, and teach our neighbour the
same. We ought not to be holden wise anent the people but rather hide our
knowledge than show it so as to be praised, as it is said: In corde meo abscondi
eloquia tua, ut non peccem tibi, that is: In my heart thy words, that I sin not
towards thee,' in void or vain showing. Therefore the cause of our speaking
should be only the praise of God and the edification of our neighbour, that it
may be fulfilled in us: Semper laus ejus in ore meo. Alway His praise be in my
mouth,' and that is, when we seek not our own honour and we speak not against
His praise.


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  CHAPTER 78: CHAPTER X OF CLEANNESS OF MIND
========================================================================

By these nine degrees before touched upon man comes to cleanness of mind, where
God is seen. Cleanness, I say, that may be had in this life. How may perfect
cleanness be gotten here where so oft man, with venial sins at least, is
defiled? The feet of saints are to be washed for they draw the dust of the
earth. Who may truly say, I am clean from sin?' Truly none in this life; for as
Job says: Si lotus fuero aquis nivis, et effulserint velut munditiae manus meae,
tamen sordibus intinges me, et abominabuntur me vestimenta mea; that is to say:
If I be washed with snow water,' that means true penance, and if my hands shine
with cleanness,' because of works of innocence, yet shalt thou touch me with
filth,' because of venial sins that can not be eschewed; and my clothes shall
abhor me,' that is to say my flesh makes me abhor myself; and sensuality that is
so frail, slippery, and ready to love the liking beauty of this world, ofttimes
makes me sin. Therefore the apostle says: Non regnet peccatum in nostro mortali
corpore. 'Sin reigns not in our mortal body,' as who should say: Sin may
un-reign in us, but it may not un-be. What cleanness therefore can man have in
this life? Truly worthy and great if he rightly use himself in the study of
reading, prayer, and meditation, as it is before noted. Truly although he
sometimes sin venially yet forthwith, because his whole mind is dressed to God,
it is destroyed. The heat truly of charity wastes in him all rust of sin, as it
were a drop of water put into a great fire. The virtue therefore of a cleansed
soul is to have the mind busy to God, for in this degree all the thought is
dressed to Christ; all the mind, although he seems to speak to others, is spread
unto Him. Truly in a clean conscience nothing is bitter, sharp, or hard, but all
is sweet and lovely. Out of cleanness of heart rises a song of joy, sweet ditty
and joyful mirth. Then full oft a wonderful joy of God is given, and heavenly
song is inshed. In this state a man may know that he is in charity that he shall
never lose; he lives not without great dread -- not lest he should suffer
tormentry but that he offend not his Lover. I spare to say more here for I seem
to myself a full great wretch. For oft my flesh is noyed and assayed. Although
forsooth the love of God and contemplative life is contained in these things
beforesaid, yet somewhat of them is more specially to be said to your need and
profit.


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  CHAPTER 79: CHAPTER XI OF THE LOVE OF GOD
========================================================================

O sweet and delectable light that is my Maker unmade; enlighten the face and
sharpness of my inward eye with clearness unmade, that my mind, pithily cleansed
from uncleanness and made marvellous with gifts, may swiftly flee into the high
mirth of love; and kindled with Thy savour I may sit and rest, joying in Thee,
Jesu. And going as it were ravished in heavenly sweetness, and made stable in
the beholding of things unseen, never, save by godly things, shall I be
gladdened. O Love everlasting, enflame my soul to love God, so that nothing may
burn in me but His embraces. O good Jesu, who shall grant me to feel Thee that
now may neither be felt nor seen? Shed Thyself into the entrails of my soul.
Come into my heart and fill it with Thy clearest sweetness. Moisten my mind with
the hot wine of Thy sweet love, that forgetful of all ills and all scornful
visions and imaginations, and only having Thee, I may be glad and joy in Jesu my
God. Henceforward, sweetest Lord, go not from me, continually biding with me in
Thy sweetness; for Thy presence only is solace to me, and Thy absence only
leaves me heavy. O Holy Ghost that givest grace where Thou wilt, come into me
and ravish me to Thee; change the nature that Thou hast made with Thy honeyed
gifts, that my soul fulfilled with Thy liking joy, may despise and cast away all
things in this world. Ghostly gifts she may take of Thee, the Giver, and going
by songful joy into undescried light she may be all melted in holy love. Burn my
reins and my heart with Thy fire that on Thine altar shall endlessly burn. O
sweet and true Joy, I pray Thee come! Come O sweet and most desired! I pray Thee
come! Come O sweet and most desired! Come my Love, that art all my comfort!
Glide down into a soul longing for Thee and after Thee with sweet heat. Kindle
with Thy heat the wholeness of my heart. With Thy light enlighten my inmost
parts. Feed me with honeyed songs of love, as far I may receive them by my
powers of body and soul. In these, and such other meditations be glad, that so
thou mayest come to the pith of love. Love truly suffers not a loving soul to
bide in itself, but ravishes it out to the Lover; so that the soul is more there
were it loves, than where the body is that by it lives and feels. There are
soothly three degrees of Christ's love, by one or another of which he that is
chosen to love profits. The first is called, unable to be overcome; the second,
unable to be parted; the third is called singular. Then truly is love
unovercomeable when it can not be overcome by any other desire. When it casts
away lettings, and slakes all temptations and fleshly desires; and when it
patiently suffers all griefs for Christ, and is overcome by no flattery nor
delight. All labour is light to a lover, nor can a man better overcome labour
than by love. Love truly is undeparted when the mind is kindled with great love,
and cleaves to Christ with undeparted thought. Forsooth it suffers Him not to
pass from the mind a minute, but as if he were bound in heart to Him it thinks
and sighs after Him, and it cries to be holden with His love that He may loose
him from the fetters of mortality, and may lead him to Him Whom only he desires
to see. And most this name JESU he in so mickle worships and loves that It
continually rests in his mind. When therefore the love of Christ is set so
mickle in the heart of God's lover and the world's despiser that it may not be
overcome by other desire of love, it is called high. But when he holds
undepartedly to Christ, ever thinking of Christ, by no occasion forgetting Him,
it is called everlasting and undeparted. And if this be high and everlasting,
what love can be higher or more? Yet there is the third degree that is called
singular. It is one thing to be high, and another to be alone; as it is one
thing to be ever presiding, and another to have no fellow. Truly we may have
many fellows and yet have a place before all. Truly if thou seekest or receivest
any comfort other than of thy God, and if peradventure thou lovest the highest,
yet it is not singular. Thou seest therefore to what the greatness of worthiness
must increase, that when thou art high thou mayest be alone. Therefore love
ascends to the singular degree when it excludes all comfort but the one that is
in Jesu; when nothing but Jesu may suffice it. The soul set in this degree loves
Him alone; she yearns only for Christ, and Christ desires; only in His desire
she abides, and after Him she sighs; in Him she burns; she rests in His warmth.
Nothing is sweet to her, nothing she savours, except it be made sweet in Jesu;
whose memory is as a song of music in a feast of wine. Whatever the self offers
to her besides it or comes into mind, is straightway cast back and suddenly
despised if it serve not His desire or accord not with His will. She suppresses
all customs that she sees serve not to the love of Christ. Whatever she does
seems unprofitable and intolerable unless it runs and leads to Christ, the End
of her desire. When she can love Christ she trows she has all things that she
wills to have, and withouten Him all things are abhorrent to her and wax foul.
But because she trows to love Him endlessly she steadfastly abides, and wearies
not in body nor heart but loves perseveringly and suffers all things gladly. And
the more she thus lives in Him the more she is kindled in love, and the liker
she is to Him.No marvel loneliness accords with such a one that grants no fellow
among men. For the more he is ravished inwardly by joys, the less is he occupied
in outward things; nor is he let by heaviness or the cares of this life. And now
it seems as if the soul were unable to suffer pain, so that not being let by
anguish, she ever joys in God.O my soul, cease from the love of this world and
melt in Christ's love, that always it may be sweet to thee to speak, read,
write, and think of Him; to pray to Him and ever to praise Him. O God, my soul,
to Thee devoted, desires to see Thee! She cries to Thee from afar. She burns in
Thee and languishes in Thy love. O Love that fails not, Thou hast overcome me! O
everlasting Sweetness and Fairness Thou hast wounded my heart, and now overcome
and wounded I fall. For joy scarcely I live, and nearly I die; for I may not
suffer the sweetness of so great a Majesty in this flesh that shall rot.All my
heart truly, fastened in desire for JESU, is turned into heat of love, and it is
swallowed into another joy and another form. Therefore O good Jesu have mercy
upon a wretch. Show Thyself to me that longs; give medicine to my hurt. I feel
myself not sick, but languishing in Thy love. He that loves Thee not altogether
loses all; he that follows Thee not is mad. Meanwhile therefore be Thou my Joy,
my Love, and Desire, until I may see Thee, O God of Gods, in Syon.Charity truly
is the noblest of virtues, the most excellent and sweetest, that joins the
Beloved to the lover, and everlastingly couples Christ with the chosen soul. It
reforms in us the image of the high Trinity, and makes the creature most like to
the Maker.O gift of love, what is it worth before all other things, that
challenges the highest degree with the angels! Truly the more of love a man
receives in this life, the greater and higher in heaven shall he be. O singular
joy of everlasting love that ravishes all His to the heavens above all worldly
things, binding them with the bands of virtue.O dear charity, he is not wrought
on earth that -- whatever else he may have -- has not Thee. He truly that is
busy to joy in Thee, is forthwith lift above earthly things. Thou enterest
boldly the bedchamber of the Everlasting King. Thou only art not ashamed to
receive Christ. He it is that thou hast sought and loved. Christ is thine: hold
Him, for He cannot but receive thee, whom only thou desirest to obey. For
withouten thee plainly no work pleases Him. Thou makest all things savoury. Thou
art a heavenly seat; angels fellowship; a marvellous holiness; a blissful sight;
and life that lasts endlessly.O holy charity, how sweet thou art and
comfortable; that remakest that that was broken. The fallen thou restorest; the
bond thou deliverest; man thou makest even with angels. Thou raisest up those
sitting and resting, and the raised thou makest sweet.In this degree or state of
love is love chaste, holy, and wilful; loving what is loved for the self, not
for goods, and fastening itself altogether on that that is loved. Seeking
nothing outward, pleased with itself: ardent, sweet-smelling, heartily binding
love to itself in a marvellously surpassing manner. In the loved one joying; all
other things despising and forgetting; thinking without forgetfulness; ascending
in desire; falling in his love; going on in halsing; overcome by kissing;
altogether molten in the fire of love.Thus truly Christ's lover keeps no order
in his loving nor covets no degree, because however fervent and joyful he be in
the love of God in this life, yet he thinks to love God more and more. Yea,
though he might live here evermore yet he should not trow at any time to stand
still and not progress in love, but rather the longer he shall live the more he
should burn in love.God truly is of infinite greatness, better than we can
think; of unreckoned sweetness; inconceivable of all natures wrought; and can
never be comprehended by us as He is in Himself in eternity. But now, when the
mind begins to burn in the desire for its Maker, she is made able to receive the
unwrought light, and so inspired and fulfilled by the gifts of the Holy Ghost --
as far as is lawful to mortals -- she has heavenly joy. Then she overpasseth all
things seen, and is raised up in height of mind to the sweetness of everlasting
life. And whiles the soul is spread with the sweetness of the Godhead and the
warmness of Creating Light, she is offered in sacrifice to the everlasting King,
and being accepted is all burned up. O merry love, strong, ravishing, burning,
wilful, stalwart, unslakened, that brings all my soul to Thy service and suffers
it to think of nothing but Thee. Thou challengest for Thyself all that we live;
all that we savour; all that we are.Thus therefore let Christ be the beginning
of our love, whom we love for Himself. And so we love whatever is to be loved
ordinately for Him that is the Well of love, and in whose hands we put all that
we love and are loved by. Here soothly is perfect love shown: when all the
intent of the mind, all the privy working of the heart, is lift up into God's
love; so that the might and mirth of true love be so mickle that no worldly joy,
nor fleshly merchandise, be lawful nor liking.O love undeparted! O love
singular! Although there were no torments for the wicked, nor no meed in heaven
should be trowed for chosen souls, yet shouldst thou never the sooner loose thee
from thy Love. More tolerable it were to thee to suffer an untrowed grief than
once to sin deadly. Therefore truly thou lovest God for Himself and for no other
thing, nor thyself except for God; and thereof it follows that nothing but God
is loved in thee. How else should God be all in ilk thing, if there be any love
of man in a man?O clear charity, come into me and take me into thee and so
present me before my Maker. Thou art savour well tasting; sweetness well
smelling, and pleasant odour; a cleansing heat and a comfort endlessly lasting.
Thou makest men contemplative; heaven's gate thou openest; the mouths of
accusers thou sparrest; thou makest God be seen and thou hidest a multitude of
sins. We praise thee, we preach thee, by the which we overcome the world; by
whom we joy and ascend the heavenly ladder. In thy sweetness glide into me: and
I commend me and mine unto thee withouten end.


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  CHAPTER 80: CHAPTER XII OF CONTEMPLATION
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Contemplative life or contemplation has three parts: reading, prayer and
meditation. In reading God speaks to us; in prayer we speak to God. In
meditation angels come down to us and teach us that we err not; in prayer they
go up and offer our prayers to God, joying in our profit; that are messengers
betwixt God and us. Prayer certain is a meek desire of the mind dressed in God,
with which, when it comes to Him, He is pleased. Meditation on God and godly
things, in which is the halsing of Rachel, is to be taken after prayer and
reading. To reading belongs reason or the inquisition of truth, that is as a
goodly light marked upon us. To prayer belongs praise, song, surpassing in
beholding, and marvel; and thus contemplative life or contemplation stands in
prayer. To meditation belongs the inspiration of God, understanding, wisdom and
sighing. If it be asked what is contemplation it is hard to define. Some say
that contemplative life is nought else but knowledge of things to come and
hidden: or to be void of all worldly occupation: or the study of God's letters.
Others say that contemplation is the free sight into the visioned truths of
wisdom, lift up with full high marvel. Others say that contemplation is a free
and wise insight of the soul all spread about to behold His might. Others say,
and say well, that contemplation is joy in heavenly things. Others say, and say
best, that contemplation is the death of fleshly desires through the joy of the
mind upraised. To me it seems that contemplation is the joyful song of God's
love taken into the mind, with the sweetness of angels praise. This is the
jubilation that is the end of perfect prayer and high devotion in this life.
This is the ghostly mirth had in mind for the Everlasting Lover, with great
voice outbreaking. This is the last and most perfect deed of all deeds in this
life. Therefore the psalmist says: Beatus vir qui scit jubilationem, that is to
say: Blest be the man that knows jubilation,' in contemplation of God. Truly
none alien to God can joy in Jesu, nor taste the sweetness of His love. But if
he desire to be ever kindled with the fire of everlasting love, in patience,
meekness, and gentle manners; and to be made fair with all cleanness of body and
soul, and dight with ghostly ointments; he is lift up into contemplation. Let
him unceasingly seek healthful virtues, by which in this life we are cleansed
from the wretchedness of sins, and in another life, free from all pain, we joy
endlessly in the blessed life: yet in this exile he thus shall be worthy to feel
the joyful mirth of God's love. Therefore be not slow to chastise thyself with
prayer and waking, and use holy meditations; for doubtless with these ghostly
labours, and with heaviness and weeping from inward repenting, the love of
Christ is kindled in thee, and all virtues and gifts of the Holy Ghost are shed
into thy heart. Begin therefore by wilful poverty, so that whiles thou desirest
nought in this world, before God and man thou livest soberly, chastely and
meekly. To have nothing is sometimes of need, but to will that you may have
nought is of great virtue. We may have mickle desires and yet will to have right
nought, when we hold that we have to our need and not to our lust. Right as he
sometime that hath nought coveteth to have many things; right so he that seemeth
to have many things hath right nought, for that that he hath he loveth it not,
save only for his bodily need. Truly it behoves the most perfect to take
necessaries, else were he not perfect if he refused to take that whereof he
should live. This is the manner for perfect men to keep: all worldly goods for
God to despise, and yet to take of the same meat and clothing; and if this want
at any time, not to murmur but to praise God; and as much as they may to refuse
superfluities. The warmer a man waxes with the heat of everlasting light, the
meeker shall he be in all adversities. He that is truly and not feignedly meek
holds himself worthy of being despised, and neither by harm nor reproof is
provoked to wrath. Wherefore lowing himself to continual meditation, it is given
him to rise to the contemplation of heavenly things, and the sharpness of his
mind being cleansed as the sickness of the flesh suffers, it is given him to
sing sweetly and burningly with inward joys. And truly when he goes to seek any
outward thing, he goes not with a proud foot, but only joying in high delights
anon with the sweetness of God's love is as it were ravished in trance, and
being ravished is marvellously made glad. Such forsooth is contemplative life if
it be taken in due manner. By long use in ghostly works we come to contemplation
of things everlasting. The mind's sight is truly taken up to behold heavenly
things, yet by shadowly sight and in a mirror, not clearly and openly: whiles we
go by faith we see as it were by a mirror and shadow. Truly if our ghostly eye
be busy to that spiritual light it may not see that light in itself as it is,
and yet it feels that it is there whiles it holds within the savour and heat of
that light unknown. Whereof in the psalm it is said: Sicut tenebrae ejus, ita et
lumen ejus; that is: And as the darkness thereof, so the light thereof.'
Although truly the darkness of sin be gone from an holy soul, and murk things
and unclean be passed, and the mind be purged and enlightened, yet whiles it
bides in this mortal flesh that wonderful joy is not perfectly seen. Forsooth
holy and contemplative men with a clear face behold God. That is either their
wits are opened for to understand holy writ; or else the door of heaven is
opened unto them: that is more. As one might say: all lettings betwixt their
mind and God are put back, their hearts are purged, and they behold the citizens
of heaven. Some truly have received both these. As we, standing in darkness, see
nothing, so in contemplation that invisibly lightens the soul, no seen light we
see. Christ also makes darkness His resting place, and yet speaks to us in a
pillar of a cloud. But that that is felt is full delectable. And in this truly
is love perfect when man, going in the flesh, cannot be glad but in God, and
wills or desires nothing but God or for God. Hereby it is shown that holiness is
not in crying of the heart, or tears, or outward works, but in the sweetness of
perfect charity and heavenly contemplation. Many truly are molten in tears, and
afterwards have turned them to evil; but no man defiles himself with worldly
business after he has truly joyed in everlasting love. To greet and to sorrow
belong to the newly converted, beginners and profiters; but to sing joyfully and
to go forth in contemplation belongs but to the perfect. He therefore that has
done penance for a long time, whiles he feels his conscience pricking for
default knows without doubt that he has not yet done perfect penance. Therefore
in the meantime tears shall be as bread to him day and night; for unless he
first punish himself with weeping and sighing he cannot come to the sweetness of
contemplation.Contemplative sweetness is not gotten but with full great labour;
and with joy untold it is possessed. Forsooth it is not of man's merit but God's
gift. And yet from the beginning to this day a man might never be ravished in
contemplation of everlasting love unless he before had perfectly forsaken all
the vanity of the world. Moreover he ought to be used in healthful meditation
and devout prayer before he come truly to the contemplation of heavenly
joys.Contemplation is sweet and desirable labour. It gladdens the labourer, and
hurts not. No man has this but in joying: not when it comes, but when it goes,
he is weary. O good labour to which mortal men dress them! O noble and
marvellous working that those sitting do most perfectly! It behoves that he take
great rest of body and mind whom the fire of the Holy Ghost truly enflames.Many
truly know not how to rest in mind, nor yet to put out void and unprofitable
thoughts, and cannot fulfill what is bidden in the psalm: Vacate, et videte
quaniam ego sum Deus; that is to say: Be void from worldly vanity and see, for I
am God.' Truly the void in body, and wavering in heart, are not worthy to taste
and see how sweet our Lord is -- how sweet the height of contemplation.Truly ilk
man contemplative loves solitariness so that the more fervently and oftener, in
that he is letted of no man, he may be exercised in his affections.Then,
therefore, it is known that contemplative life is worthier and fuller of meed
than active life. And all contemplatives by the moving of God love solitary
life, and because of the sweetness of contemplation are especially fervent in
love. It seems that solitary men raised by the gift of contemplation are high
and touch the highest perfection. Unless it happen there be some in such state
that they have come even with the height of the contemplative life, and yet they
cease not to fulfil the office of the preacher. They pass these other solitaries
-- highest in contemplation and only given to godly things, not to the needs of
their neighbours -- their degrees being like, and for their preaching they are
worthy a crown that is cleped aureola.Truly a very contemplative man is set
towards the light unseen with so great desire that ofttimes he is deemed by man
as a fool or unwise; and that is because his mind is enflamed from its seat with
Christ's love. It utterly changes his bodily bearing, and his body departing
also from all earthly works it makes God's child as a man out of his mind.Thus
truly whiles the soul gathers all the self into endless mirth of love,
withholding herself inwardly she flows not forth to seek bodily delights. And
because she is fed inwardly with liking pleasure, it is no marvel though she say
sighing; Who shall give thee me, my brother, that I may find thee without, and
kiss thee?' That is to say: loosed from the flesh I may be worthy to find Thee,
and seeing Thee face to face, be joined with Thee withouten end. And now man
despises me.'A devout soul given to contemplative life and fulfilled with love
everlasting despises all vainglory of this world, and, joying only in Jesu,
covets to be loosed. For why she is despised by these that savour and love this
world, not heaven, and grievously languishes in love, and greatly desires with
the lovely company of the angels to be given to the joys that worldly adversity
can not noy.Nothing is more profitable, nothing merrier, than the grace of
contemplation that lifts us from these low things and offers us to God. What is
this grace but the beginning of joy? And what is the perfection of joy but grace
confirmed? In which is kept for us a joyful happiness and happy joy, a glorious
endlessness and everlasting joy; to live with the saints and dwell with angels.
And that which is above all things: truly to know God; to love Him perfectly;
and in the shining of His majesty to see Him and, with a wonderful song of joy
and melody, to praise Him endlessly.To whom be worship and joy, with deeds of
thankfulness, in the world of worlds. Amen.Thus endys the xij chapetyrs of
Richarde Hampole into englys translate be ffrere Richard Misyn, to informacioun
of Cristyn sauls. Anno domine Millimo cccc xxxiiij. </div2>


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  CHAPTER 81: NOTES
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A. = MS. ADD.37790. C.- C.C.C. MS 236. L. -- MS. Dd.5.64.


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  CHAPTER 82: PROLOGUE OF RICHARD ROLLE.
========================================================================

NOTE i., p.12, -- This passage, beginning Euigilans vero animam meam' to the end
of the chapter, is found in early printed editions of Bonaventura's works as the
prologue to a treatise called the Incendium Amoris. But both the prologue and
the title are said to be spurious in the exhaustive edition of the works
published by the college of S. Bonaventura. De titulo huius opusculi et de
prologo illo Evigilans vero animam meam, qui certissime spurisu est, cum nec in
primis editionibus nec in codicibus, exceptis tribus valde recentibus,
inveniatur' (Ad Claras Aquas, vol. viii. p.3, 1989). This is interesting as
freeing Rolle -- at any rate in this case -- from the charge of incorporating
the writings of others in his works. Not that the charge was a serious one in
those days, when the pride of authorship was unknown. Rolle's aim was to kindle
men's hearts to love God; by his own words if he could, or if he found his
thoughts better expresses by another, he would gladly use what that other had
written or said. NOTE ii., p.13. -- L. reads: 'eo de iure apciores essent ad
amandum'; which Misyn translates literally. C. the more abyll to lufe be lawe
thai ar.' [30]


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  CHAPTER 83: THE FIRE OF LOVE--BOOK I
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Chapter I Note iii., p.16 -- C. reads: for thai vnmanerly wyth warldly mone has
armyd tham self.' But L. quia terrenas pecunias immoderate amauerunt'; which is
probably correct, and which I have therefore followed. Note iv., p.17 -- an
omission in C. L., reads: Erumpit enim in ostensione operis feruor amoris.' Note
v., p.18 -- Another omission L. et qui ad amandum deum semper sunt auidi.'
Chapter II Note vi., p.20 = The Bible references are to the Vulgate of Sixtus V
and Clement VII, and where the A.V. differs the reference to the latter has been
added. I have not been able to trace the source of Rolle's quotations. They
often differ slightly from the Vulgate, nor do they follow the Vetus Itala. Most
probably Rolle quoted from the missal or breviary, or possibly he may have
relied upon his memory which has sometimes played him false. (Eccli. =
Ecclesiasticus. Eccl. = Ecclesiastes.) Note vii. p.20 -- A difficult passage. I
give both the Latin and Middle English in full. L. Porro perfecti qui in hanc
excellentem abundunciam eterne amicicie assumuntur in preclaro calice caritatis
melliflue, dulcore indebibili iam imbuti viuunt atque in almiphono amenitatis
archano in animum suum hauriunt felicem ardorem quo iocundati iugiter
inestimabilem habent interni electuarii confortacionem.' And C. Parfyte forsoth
that in to his passynge plente of endeles frenschyp ar takyn. taght with
swetness that sall not waste. new lyffe in the clere chales of full swete
charite. And in holy counsaill of myrth thai drawe into there saules happy hete.
with the whilk thai gretely gladdyd has gretter comforth then may be trowyd of
gostely letwary.' Note viii., p.21 -- This is the only passage in the Incendium
where Rolle breaks into rhythm: L. O deus meus, O amor meus Illabere mihi,Tua
caritate perforato,Tua pulcritudine vulnerato,Illabere, inquam,Et languentem'and
then he continues: consolare medicina tu miseri; ostende te amanti; ecce in te
est omne desiderium meum, omne quod querit cor meum,' etc. Dr. Horstman takes
this absence of rhythm as one of the proofs of the later date of the Incendium,
since the Melum Contemplativorum, a much earlier work, is constantly broken up
into verse.Note ix., p.21 -- L. reads: nec me aliquando deseras quem tanto tui
desiderio cernis flagrare,' but C. has: Forsake thou neuer hym that thou feles
so swetely smel in thi desyre'; misreading flagrare for fragrare.Chapter IV.Note
x., p.27 -- There seems some corruption here. L. et quasi in organo ascendit in
altum concupitum clarificantem contemplari'; and C. '& als wer goyng to heghe
clere desyre in noys of organes to be contemplatyue.' The difficulty here is
contemplari,' which I have altered in the text to contemplation.'Chapter V.Note
xi., p.30 -- Rolle seems here to have sacrificed clearness for the sake of
alliteration. L. reads: Quamobrem capaces gaudii amoris et concipientes calorem
qui non potest consumi concurrunt in canticum clari concentus et armonie
amorose, atque in amenitate amicabili obumbracionem habent celitus infusam,
contra omnem estum lenocinii ac liuoris.' And C. ffor whilk thinge takars of
lufly ioy & heete consauand that may not be consumyd in songe thai ryn of clene
company & lufly armony. And in frendely myrth heuenly thai haue in yett a
schadow agayne all hete of lychery & fylth.'Note xii. p.30 -- In this passage
the sense seems subordinated to the alliteration. L. Hinc est vtique quod sine
memore moriuntur, immo cum gaudio gradientes, et tam grandem gradum eleuantur in
eternis honoribus et consistunt coronati in copiosissima creatoris
contemplacione continentes cum choris clarissimis, qui eciam ardencius anhelant
in essenciam ipsam omnibus imperantem.' And C. Herefore treuly it is that thai
withouten heuynes dy sothely with Ioy passand vnto so grete degre in endles
worschip. thai are lyft. and ar crounyd in behaldynge moste plentevous of per
makar. syngand with clerist wheris the whilk also more byrnyngly desiris in to
that godhede that reulys all thinge.'Note xiii., p.31 -- This idea often occurs;
compare Prol., p.13; and Bk. II. ch iii, p.142. It iscommon in most mystical
writers, and many illustrations might be quoted from the Fioretti of S. Francis.
For example brother Giles once praised Bonaventura's learning, and the latter
replied that a poor old woman could love God better than a learned theologian.
Thereupon Giles cried out to an old woman who was pasing, that she loved God
better than Bonaventura.Chapter VIINote xiv., p.35 -- The Latin brings out the
meaning more clearly. L. quia et vna est maiestas trium personarum, plena et
perfecta et quelibet persona in se plenam continet maiestatem, equalitatem
quidem et ydemptitatem habens secundum deitatis substantiam et diuersitatis
distinccione non carens secundum vocabuli proprietatem.'Property is here used in
the scientific sense. Compare the Prayer of Humble Access: ' Whose property is
always to have mercy.'Note xv., p.36 -- An omission in C. L. reads: et filius
non minor est in patre quam in se.'Note xvi., p 36 -- In the shorter versions of
the Incendium this chapter begins here, with the words: Nichil enim tam suaue
est sicut diligere christum.'Chapter IXNote xvii., p.43 -- There is some
corruption here. C. reads: And noudyr pai will be ouycumyne, with auctorite ne
resun pat pai sult not be sene hawstande haue sayd pat wer vnacordyng.' And L.
et nec auctoritate nec racione possunt vinci ne videantur victi et incongruum
protulisse.' Some word is wanted to translate victi, but hawsande seems to be a
mistaken writing ofr baue said which follows it; nor is it found in A. It would
be interesting if anyone could throw light on this passage.Note xviii., p.46 --
C. reads: Also pai pat name berys of lyfe more cunnyng.' But L. eciam illi qui
sanccioris vite nomen gestant'; which seems borne out by the context, and which
I have therefore followed in the text.Chapter XNote xix., p.48 -- L. fortis est
ut mors dileccio, dura sicut infernus emulacio'; which is the Vulgate reading.
Compare the Vetus Itala: durus sicut inferi zelus.' The A. V. and R. V. read:
For love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave.' Rolle however
gives the reading in the text in several of his English works. See The Form of
Living: For luf es stalwart als pe dede. pat slaes al lyuand thyng in erth; and
hard als hell. pat spares noght till pam pat er dede'; and in The Commandment of
Love: In his degre es lufe stalworth as dede. and hard as hell' (Horst., vol.
i., p.39, and p.63; and also cf. The Fire of Love, Bk. xi, p.156.)Note xx., p.50
-- L.: Valde autem difficile est habere diuicias et eas non amare, et non minus
difficile est artem vel officium habere lucrosum, et auarum non esse;'Note xxi.,
p.50 -- ffor god his seruandis pat delyuers in per sight before pai see nott.'
And L. quia deum qui seruos suos liberat in conspectu suo non preuident'; from
which I have emended the passage. Chapter XINote xxii., p.54 -- C. withoutyn
comparison treuly more mede sall he be worthy with songfull joy prayand
behaldand redeand & pinkand well. bot discretely etand. pen if he withouten his
euermore suld fast. breede allone or herbys if he suld ete. & besily suld pray &
rede.' L. Incomparabiliter enim magis merebitur cum canoro gaudio orando
contemplando legendo meditando, bene set discrete comendendo, quam si sine illo
semper ieiunaret, panemque tantummode aut herbas comederet, iugiterque oraret et
legeret.' Rolle evidently means that it is better to eat moderately and be
cheerful over one's prayers, meditation, etc., than to fast vigorously and to
pray with a heavy heart.Note xxiii., p.54 -- Compare The Mending of Life (ch.
xi., p.232) where there is the same phrase: All my hert truly festynd in desire
of Ihesu is turnyd in to heet of lufe & it is swaloyd into a noper Joy and a
nodir form.'Chapter XIIINote xxiv., p.61 -- Blessed Maglorius . . . and his
former father Saint Sampson.Sampson or Samson was a native of South Wales, and
of high birth. From the age of five he was brought up in the monastery of Saint
Iltut. After his ordination as deacon and priest he lived a still more austere
life than before, and was so struck by the piety and learning of some Irish
monks who visited the monastery on their way from Rome that he went with them to
Ireland. He stayed there for some time and wrought several miraculous cures
which caused him to be so sought after that his modesty could not support it. He
therefore returned to Wales, and was consecrated bishop but, until by divine
revelation he was called to Dolin Brittany, he had no see. There he established
a monastery, and having occasion to visit King Childebert at Paris the latter
nominated him to be the first bishop of Dol. He died at the age of eighty-five
in 565 A.D. His festival is kept in Brittany on July 28th.Maglorius or Magloire
was a cousin of Sampson, and his disciple and immediate successor in the
bishopric of Dol. They were fellow-students in the monastery of Saint Iltut, but
when the education of Maglorius was thought to be completed he returned to his
own family. Some time later Sampson, being on a visit to them, spoke so movingly
of the things of God' that Maglorius resolved to leave the world and to live a
dedicated life. From henceforth these two were inseparable companions and after
his cousin's death Maglorius, although quite an old man, held the bishopric of
Dol for several years. But God made known to him that he might, as he wished,
retire and give his life to prayer and contemplation. First he withdrew to a
quiet spot in the neighbourhood of Dol, but afterwards he went to Jersey. There
having healed a nobleman of leprosy the latter as a thank offering gave him the
wherewithal to found an abbey. Maglorius ministered among the people on the
island, and in the pestilence which broke out in 585 A.D. he is said to have
performed many miracles of healing. In the latter years of his life he seems
hardly ever to have left the church, being absorbed in prayer. This, and his
death very shortly after the outbreak of the sickness, recalls Richard Rolle to
our mind; for it is not unlikely that the death of the latter was due to the
plague of 1349, which he probably caught while ministering to the sick.
Maglorius is commemorated in Brittany on October 24th. (See the Menology of
England and Wales, by the Rev. R. Stanton, pp.364 and 512.)The following
interesting reference to Sampson and Maglorius is found in the Lives of the
English Saints, which were begun by Newman.'About the very time when St.
Marculfus died, St Sampson came to Jersey with his cousin Judael, a prince of
British blood. Shortly after came St Maglorius, who healed the Frankish count
Loyseco of the leprosy, and to him was given half the island, rich in woodlands
and in fisheries. Here he build a fair Abbey, where dwelt sixty monks; in his
day the faith of Christ sank deep into the minds of the islanders, for the poor
fishermen, who in their frail barks had to wrestle with that stormy sea, loved
him well, and willingly brought their fish to the Abbey, whose vassals they
were. Long afterwards they told how St Maglorius was kind to them, so that when
one of them was drowned, the Saint wept sore, and vowed a vow never to eat fish
again; and when evening came, he with all the monks went down to the shore
chanting litanies; then he threw himself upon the sandy beach, and God heard his
prayer and was pleased to restore the dead man to life. In Guernsey too the
Saint healed the daughter of the native chieftain; and a field there, where once
stood a chapel of which he was the patron, is still called after his name.'
(From the life of St Helier, written by Rev. J.B. Dalgairns, vol. vi., pl 40,
edit. by A.W. Hutton, 1901.)Chapter XIVNote xxv., p.64 -- L. non dico girouagi
qui sunt scandalum heremirtarum.' S. Benedict in his Rule speaks thus of these
monks: The fourth kind of monks are those called "Giravagi," who spend all their
lives long wandering about divers provinces, staying in different cenns for
three or four days at a time, ever roaming, with no stability, given up to their
own pleasures and to the snares of gluttonly, and worse in all things than the
Sarabites. Of the most wretched life of these latter it is better to say nothing
than to speak.' (Transl. by Fr. Hunter Blair. Sands, London P.15). The
Sarabites, or Sarabaitae, are described by Du Cange as monks who, approved by no
Rule, are recognized as keeping faith with the world, and by the tonsure lying
to God. By twos and threes they stray about the towns and villages, living as
pleases themselves, as appears in the Rule of S. Benedict.' He also gives
references to Cassian (Collat.18, Cap. vii), St Jerome and other writers.Note
xxvi., p.65 -- Rolle has here played freely with alliteration, which Misyn
translates literally. L. En amans ardeo anhelans auide.'Note xxvi., pl 67 -- L.
et mens in mellifluum melos immoratur,' i.e., tarries in full sweet song; but I
have thought it better to follow C. in the text, not knowing from what
manuscript Misyn was translating.Chapter XVNote xxxviii., pl 69 -- This chapter,
which begins Cum infeliciter florerem et in inventus vigilantis adolescencie iam
adusenisset,' etc., is found in the printed versions of Rolle's Latin works, and
in some of the MSS, under the title of Incendium Amoris. It is slightly longer
in its separate form, and in La Bigne continues thus: Intelligendo etiam quod ex
magno amoris in cendio tantus virtutis decor in animo crescit, quod iustus
potius eligeret omnem poenam incurrere, quam semel Deum offendere. Et quanquam
sciret quod posset per poenitentiam resurgere & postea Deo magis placere et
sanctior esse; quia hoc quilibet perfectus intelligit quod nihil est Deus
charius innocentia, aut acceptabilius voluntate bona.'Si enim recte amaremus
Deum, debemus magis velle magnum praemium in coelo amittere, quam saltem
venialitur peccare; quia iustissimum est, iustitiae mercedem non requirere: sed
amicitiam Die, quae est ipse Deus. Melius est ergo semper tormentum pati, quam
semel a iustitia ad iniquitatem sponte tormentum pati, quam semel a iustitia ad
iniquitatem sponte deduci & scienter: cum etiam constet manifeste, quod quidam
Christum tam ardentur diligust, quod nullo modo peccare volunt, non solum talse
a poena liberi erunt, sed etiam cum angelis aeternaliter gaudebunt.'Note xxix.,
pl 70 -- The expression right there is still in common use in America, as is
also gotten and the use of gutss, meaning (as in ME.) think'; and lovely,
meaning lovable.' These examples could easily be multiplied.Note xxx., p.71 --
A. and C. have only won' and a blank following. C. bot when fyrst I won dowtand
of whome it suld be'; which the E.E.T.S. translates: Bot when first I wonderyd,'
etc. L. reads: set cum prius flactuarem dubitando a quo esset,' etc. which I
have followed in the text.Note xxxi., p.71 -- This use of beheld' is not
uncommon in ME. Cf. also REv. i.12, I turned to see the voice that spake with
me.'Chapter XIXNote xxxii., p.88 -- An omission in C. L. nisi prius cor cius
eterni amoris facibus funditus inflammetur, vt videlicet cor suum igne amoris
ardere senciat.'Note xxxiii., p.89 -- C. And after be inward mane to godis lufe
I am glad, bot yet I can not so mykyll lufe pat flechly desire I myet barely
slokin'; but L. et condelector legi deum secundum interiorem hominem, set nescio
adhuc tantum amare quod possum concupiscenciam penitus extinguere.'Chapter
XXNote xxxiv., p.91 -- Another omission. L. Quesiuit te pocius quam tua, et
accepit a te et te et tua, alii famulantur tibi vt habeant tua et parum curant
de te,' etc.Chapter XXINote xxxv., p.94 -- L. vnde in ferculo veri salomonis,
columpne sunt argentes et reclinatorium aureum,' and cf. Vul.,Ferrculum fecit
sibi rex Salomon de lignis Libani.' Meatboard is a curious translation of
ferculum. The A.V. translates it chariot' and R.V. palanquin.' Ferrculum was
generally used of a bier or litter on which to carry the spoils of war, or
images of the gods, in a solemn procession.Note xxxvi., p.96 -- Rolle has surely
forgotten Piertr de Murrone, who was forced from his hermit's cell in the
Abruzzi to become Pope Clestine V (A.D.1294), but was advised to abdicate a few
months later by Cardinal Benedetto Gaetani, who was elected to succeed him as
Boniface VIII. Because of his abdiction Dante places him in the Inferno, and
thus speaks of him: Poscia ch'io v'ebbi alcun riconosciuto, Vidi e conobbi
l'ombra di colui Che fece per viltate il gran rifuto.' But he was more kindly
judged by Petrarch. Pietro's life is beautifully told in a novel by John
Ayscough, called San Celestino.Chapter XXIINote xxxvii., pl 97 -- A difficult
passage. L. et sic vt de priuilegiatis loquar, pre gaudio diuine dileccionis in
cantum spiritualem vel in sonum celicum contemplando suscipi, et in interna
quiete se motis perturbacionibus suauiter immorari; quatinus dum viro dei
exterius nil libet agere, eterni amoris delicias in carmine canoro et ineffabili
iubilo interius repiatur personare.' And cf. C. '& so pat I of men priuelegid
speek for Ioy of godis lufe in to gostly songis or heuenly sound ehaldandly for
to te takyn. And in warldly rest all sturbelans put bak swetely to byde. In so
mykill pat whilst to godis mane no pinge is lefull vtward to wyrk. sweetnes of
endles lyfe in likyng songe in myrth vn mesured with in is takyn to sownd.' I
have emended the passage as I best could.


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  CHAPTER 84: BOOK II
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Chapter I Note xliv., p.135 -- This throws an interesting sidelight upon the
difficulties with which hermits who were not ordained had to contend; often
having to walk long distances to hear mass on holy days and days of obligation.
Chapter III Note xivii., p.140 -- There is some corruption here. L. Ita enim
stabiliti sunt, quod nullo clamore vel tumultu aut quacumque alia re distrahi
poterunt ab oracione vel cogitacione, set tantum a canore per talia diuelli.
Istud namque duice canticum spirituale quidem et speciale valde quia
specialissimis datum'; and C. reads: pai truly ar so stabyld put with no cry or
noys ar any odyr pinge fro prayer may be distracte or poyght but onely for sweit
gostly songe truly & full speciall it is giffyn.' The E.E.T.S. is here
misleading, because the words fro songe so that the passage reads thus: pai
truly ar so stabyld pat with no cry or noys or any odyr pinge fro prayer may be
distracte, or poyght, bot onely fro songe. For sweit gostly songe truly and full
speciall it is giffyn.' The omission in C. probably arose from the repetition of
the word songe.' Chapter VI Note liv., p.153 -- There is evidently some
corruption in the heading to this chapter. L. reads: De diuersis electorum donis
et quomodo sancti profecerunt ad amorem orando, mecitando, diligendo, aduersa
sustinendo et uicia odiendo; et quot amor ex deo procedit, et eius memoria
amanti est necessaria, nec amans cadit temptacionibus carnalibus ut aliqui
imperfecti, nec leditur fomite licet ducit.' And C. Of dyuers giftys of godis
chosyn and how sayntis cum to lufe in praying pinkynge lufynge aduersite
sofyrand vissittand. And pat lufe cumys of god & pat his lufe is necessary. And
at trew lufars fallis not be fleschly temptacions als odyr inparfite nor with
dreggis ot synne is hurtt pof all pai laste.' I have emended vissittand to
hating vice' and at to that,' but have otherwise left C. unaltered. Misyn always
translates formes as dregs but Rolle's idea here seems to be rather that of a
spark which is easily rekindled. A more exact translation would be: nor is
injured by the spark of sin of carnal temptation although it attracts.' Chapter
VIII Note lviii, p.167 -- I give the Latin of this passage for the sake of the
antitheses, which cannot be so well expressed in English. L. Habet enim mundus
mendax, delicias miseriarum, diuicias vanitatum, blandimenta vulnerancia,
delectamenta pestifere, felicitatem falsam, voluptatem insanam, dileccionem
amentem, odibilem tenebroasam, in inicio meridiem, in fine noctem eternam; et
sal insulsum, saporem insipidum, decorem deformem, amiciciam horribilem,
matutinum mulcens, vesperum pungens mel amaricans, fructum necantem. Habet et
gementem gemmam et laudem ludibrium, lilium liuorem, cantum clangorem, speciem
putredinem, discordem concordiam, niuem ingredinem, solacium desolatorium,
inopiam regnum.' This is a curious anticipation of Lily and the later Euphusts.
Chapter X Note lxv., pl 178 -- An omission in C. L. et ab amoris tanti memoria,
nec ad momentum euagere permittit ligat mentem amantis vt et ad vanam non
defluat et in amatum iugiter tendat.' Note lxvii., p.179 -- L. Cum hoc quippe
abundans eris internis, et delicias eterni amoris experieris in certitudine et
quasi in sciencia quod amator es eterni regis.' Chapter XINote lxx., p.185 -- A
difficult passage. C. So no meruayle pe ioy of pis warlds semys to pame pat
right behaldis & solas of synly bonde ilk odyr filoynge in onastate neuer abydes
bot passis to it cum to noght'.


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  CHAPTER 85: BIBLIOGRAPHY
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LIST OF THE MANUSCRIPTS OF THE INCENDIUM AMORIS AND THE DE EMENDATIONE VITAE
Incendium Amoris Also found under the titles: Melodia Amoris, De excellentia
amoris Dei seu Amatori Dei sive, De Vita Contemplativa * In the British Museum:
* Addit. MS.24661 * Harl. MMS.106 (fragment only) 275; 5235 * Reg. MS.5. C. iii
* Sloane MS 2275 * In the Bodleian Library, Oxford * Bod. MSS 16; 66; 86 * Laud.
MSS 202; 528 * Rawl. MS A.389 * Rawl. MS C.397 * Oxford Colleges * Balliol MS
224 A. * Corpus Christi MS 193 * S. John's MS 127 * In the University Library,
Cambridge * Dd.5.64.1 * Mm.5.37.4 * In the Cambridge Colleges * Caius MSS 140,
2; 332.4 * Emmanuel MS 35.6 (Both versions) * S. John's MS 23.1 * English
Versions * Add. MS 37790 * C.C.C.O. MS 236 * De Emendatione Vitae * Also found
under the titles: * De Emendatione Peccatorum (or Peccatoris) * De modo vivendi
et Regula in appetando perfectionem * De Regula vivendi * De Institutione Vitae
* Vehiculum Vitae * In the British Museum * Addit. MSS 16170; 24661; 34763 *
Burn MS.356 * Cott. Faust MS A.V.9 * Egerton MS 671 * Harl. MSS 106; 275; 2439 *
Sloane MS 2275 * In the Cambrideg Colleges * Caius MSS 140.11; 216.1 * Jesus MS
46 * Peterhouse MS 218.5 * Trinity MS 14.iii. * English Versions * British
Museum * Addit. MS 37790 * Harl. MSS 1706; 2406 * Lansdowne MS.455 * Dublin *
Trin. Col. MS.432 This list is only provisional, but it may be of some use to
students of Rolle. Since it was made a note has appeared in the Athenaum of
August 23, 1913, by Miss. H. E. Allen, in which she draws attention to another
MS. of the Incendium in the Durham Cathedral library (MS. B. iv.35). Miss
Allen's forthcoming book will contain complete lists of all the known authentic
writings of Richard Rolle.


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  CHAPTER 86: GLOSSARY
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anent with, towards, concerning anon at once behested promised behold consider,
regard boisterous rude, ignorant busily continually challenge demand, claim,
provoke charge take care, consider chere countenance, face cherish entice,
allure clearness purity comfort strengthcommon share in commoncovet desire,
desiringcuriosity skilldepart to part, separatediscomfit to defeat,
conquerdiscomfit conquestdisease discomfort, anxietydress direct,
directingeftsoons again, afterwardsempride take pride inerrand businessfairhead
beautyfeel used of all the senses: to perceive by smell, taste or touch; or
mentally; to believe, thinkfellowly socialflitings reproofs, quarrelingfond
foolishforbar obstructforthink repentfret eat away, irritategainbuy
redeemgainbuyer redeemergainsetting opposinggar to make, causegrave diggrieft
injurieshalse embrace, kissherefore hencehie hastenilk eachimpugnation spiritual
assaults, temptationsjanglers talkers, chattersjapes deceitslet hinderletters
hindererslurk hidemannerly ordinatelymeanly moderatelymeed rewardmickle
muchmoisten inebriateoutray outgoing, out of bounds, outragepithily to the
coreplainly altogetherpricking grief, sorrowprivity secretreek smokerelease
relaxreparel restorescience knowledgesentence meaningsettled free from
dregsshrewd wicked, depravedsicker, sickerly sure, securelysickerness certainty,
securityslake extinguish, quench, killsnib blamesoon straightway, forthwithspar
boltstint cease, limitstirrings temptation, exhortationstrait severe, narrowteem
emptythirl pierce, piercingumbelapped enwrapptedumbeset set aroundunmeed with no
rewardvain emptyvaunt to empty outwaking vigilwaste waste away, destroywhiles as
long as, duringwithhold retainworthily deservedly


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