Sermon XXXIII. On the Three Objects of the Devout Soul's Quest, on the Mystical Meridian, and the Four Kinds of Temptation

"Show me, O Thou Whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of Thy companions."

"Show me, O Thou Whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day." ' Show me why Thou judgest me so,"exclaims another voice, that, namely, of holy Job, wherein, however, he does not find fault with the sentence pronounced against him, but merely inquires the cause, desiring instruction in the truth rather than deliverance from his afflictions. The Psalmist likewise makes a similar prayer in these words," Show, O Lord, Thy ways to me and teach me Thy paths."And what he means by" ways "and" paths "he explains in another place, where he says," He hath led me on the paths of justice."These three things, therefore, the soul that is devoted to God's service will constantly seek, viz., justice, and judgment, and the place where her Bridegroom's glory dwell eth, as the way in which she should walk, the landmarks wherewith she should guide her progress, and the home whither she should direct her steps. Of this home we read in the Psalms," One thing I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life."Also," I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of Thy house; and the place where Thy glory dwelleth.,, Of the other two, namely, justice and judgment, the same inspired author says, "Justice and judgment are the preparation of Thy throne." Rightly then, does the devout soul seek these three things, since they are nothing else than the throne of God and the "preparation" of His throne. And it is the glorious prerogative of the Spouse that all alike concur to the consummation of her virtue, so that she is rendered beautiful by the form of justice, cautious by the knowledge of judgment, and chaste by the desire of the Bridegroom's presence or glory. Such assuredly the Spouse of the Lord ought to be, beautiful, enlightened, and chaste. Therefore, this petition, which I have put last, has for object a knowledge of the Bridegroom's dwelling. For the Spouse requests of Him Whom her soul loveth, that He would show her where He feedeth, where He lieth in the mid-day.

And notice, in the first place, how beautifully she distinguishes the love of the spirit from the love of the flesh; for, whilst desirous to designate her Beloved by affection rather than by name, she nevertheless does not simply say, "Thou Whom I love," but, "O Thou Whom my soul loveth"; and thus she gives us to understand that her love is spiritual. In the next place, consider diligently what is that which pleases her so much is the place of His pasturage. Nor should you pass over without examination what she says of the meridian hour, and the fact that she inquires particularly about the place where He at one and the same time feeds and reposes, which is a sign of great security. For, as I think, the words "where Thou liest" are added in order to signify that in this place there is no need to stand and to keep watch and ward over the flock, since even whilst the shepherd lies down to repose in the shade, the sheep in safety may wander at will over the pastures. Happy land where the sheep go in and out as they please with nothing to make them afraid! Who will grant me that I may behold you, 0 most blissful flock, that I may feed on the celestial mountains with the ninety-nine, which, as we read, the Divine Pastor left there whilst He graciously descended to seek the one that had strayed from Him! Securely, no doubt, does He recline close to that flock, since He did not hesitate even to withdraw to a distance from it, knowing that He left it in safety. With good reason, then, does the Spouse sigh after those heavenly hills. With good reason does she yearn for that place of pasture and peace, of tranquillity and security, of exultation, of wonder, and ecstatic bliss. For even I who, miserable man that I am, still sojourn here at so great a distance from that "land of delights," and salute it only from afar — behold, even I am moved to tears at the thought of it, and feel excited to make my own the sentiments and words of those who said, "Upon the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept when we remembered Sion." I, too, feel prompted to cry with the Spouse and with the Psalmist, "Praise thy God, O Sion, because He hath strengthened the bolts of thy gates, He hath blessed thy children within thee; Who hath placed peace in thy borders, and filled thee with the fat of corn." Who would not desire to feed there where he finds peace, fatness, and fulness? That place can surely know neither fear, nor want, nor weariness. For there is a safe abode in paradise, sweet food in the Word Divine, abounding wealth in eternity.

We also have the Word in this place of our sojourning, but the Word made flesh. And truth is set before us,¹ but under a sacramental veil. The angels feed on the fatness of the corn and eat their fill of the pure grain. But we, whilst here below, have to be satisfied with the husk of a Sacrament, with the bran of the Flesh, with the chaff of the letter, with the dark shroud of faith. And these are the things whose taste brings death if they be not seasoned in some degree with the first fruits of the Spirit. Assuredly I shall find "death in the pot" unless its contents are sweetened with the meal of the Prophet.f For without the Spirit the Sacrament is received unto judgment, the Flesh profiteth nothing, the letter killeth, and faith is dead. But "it is the Spirit that quickeneth" these elements so that I may live by them. Yet, however abundantly enriched with spiritual grace, the husk of the Sacrament can never surely taste as sweet as the fatness of the pure grain, nor faith as vision, nor the memorial as the unveiled presence, nor time as eternity, nor the reflection as the Face, nor the form of a servant as the Figure of God. For in all matters of this nature, I am rich indeed in faith, but poor in understanding. And unquestionably faith and understanding have not an equally pleasant flavour, since the former stands for merit and the latter for reward. You perceive, therefore, my brethren, tfrnt there is as great a£ difference between the spiritual food of the blessed above and that of sojourners here below, as there is between the places of their habitation; and that, as the heavens are exalted above the earth, so are the blessings poured out upon dwellers in paradise superior to those bestowed upon mortal men.

Let us hasten, then, my children, let us hasten to that safer place, to that sweeter pasture, to those richer and more fertile fields. Let us hasten thither where we may dwell without fear, abound beyond the possibility of want, feast without satiety. For Thou, O Lord of Sabbath,² Who judgest all with tranquillity, dost likewise feed all with security in that happy land. Thou art there both Lord of Hosts and Pastor of the sheep. Therefore, Thou reclinest whilst Thou feedest Thy blessed ones. But not so with us. Thou wert standing when, looking down from heaven, Thou didst behold one of Thy little sheep — I speak of the Protomartyr Stephen — surrounded by wolves upon earth. And hence I pray, "Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day," that is, during the whole day; for there the whole day is as the meridian, and knows no decline. Therefore, "Better is one day in Thy courts above thousands," because that one day has never a sunset. But perchance it had a sunrise when the "sanctified day dawned upon us," "through the bowels of the mercy of our God in which the Orient from on high hath visited us." Then, truly "we received Thy mercy, O God, in the midst of Thy temple," when "in the midst of the shadow of death," the light of the dayspring suddenly broke upon us, and "in the morning we beheld the glory of the Lord." How "many kings and prophets have desired to see" this light "and have not seen"? Wherefore? For no other reason than because it was still night, and that longed-for morning to which mercy was promised had not yet dawned. Hence also King David made this prayer, "Cause me to hear Thy mercy in the morning; for in Thee have I hoped."

The aurora, so to speak, of this spiritual day began with the announcement of the Sun of Justice by the Archangel Gabriel, when by the operation of the Holy Ghost a virgin conceived God in her womb, and, still a virgin, brought Him forth; and it continued as long as He was seen on earth and conversed amongst men. For during all that time the light appeared so weak and as if in truth the light of the aurora, that scarcely anyone realised that the day had dawned upon men. And indeed "if they had known they would never have crucified the Lord of glory." Hence, to the little company of disciples it was said, "So far there is little light in you,"³ because, namely, it was yet only the aurora or beginning, or rather but the first evidence of dawn, whilst the Sun still hid His beams instead of radiating them around the world. In the same sense St. Paul exclaimed, "the night is passed and the day is at hand," thus indicating that there was as yet so little light that he considered it more correct to say "the day is at hand" than "the day has dawned." Now, my brethren, when did he speak thus? It was certainly after the Divine Sun had returned from beneath the earth and had already mounted to the height of heaven. With how much greater truth might the same words have been spoken whilst the aurora was overcast, as it were, by the dense cloud, of the "likeness of sinful flesh," that is, by a Body resembling our own in Its liability to all manner of suffering and infirmity, so that neither the bitterness of death nor the shame of the cross was wanting to It? With how much greater truth, I say, could the light have been then described as excessively faint and feeble, and proceeding apparently rather from the aurora than from the actual presence of the Sun?

Therefore, the whole life of Christ upon earth was an aurora of twilight and obscurity, that is, until the brighter effulgence of the Sun's presence in the sky, after His setting and glorious rising, caused the dimness of dawn to disappear before the clearness of morning, and night was "swallowed up in victory." So we read in St. Mark, "And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they came to the sepulchre, the sun being now risen." Surely it was morning since the Sun of Justice had risen. But He derived a new loveliness from His Resurrection, and a more placid radiance than He had manifested before, for "if we have known Christ according to the flesh; but now we know Him so no longer." It is written in the psalms, "He is clothed with beauty: the Lord is clothed with strength and hath girded Himself," because He has stripped Himself of the clouds, so to speak, of our mortal infirmities and put on the garments of His glory. Having ascended above the horizon, the Sun began to diffuse His influence gradually over the earth, and little by little to make His light and His heat everywhere more sensibly felt. But however much He increases His warmth and strength, however much He multiplies and scatters His rays over the whole course of this our mortal existence— for He shall abide with us unto "the consummation of the world "— yet He shall never attain here to His meridian splendour, nor be seen in that fulness and perfection of His glory, in which He is to be contemplated hereafter, by those, that is to say, whom He shall deem Worthy of this vision. O true meridian, plenitude of light and heat, when the Sun stands still at His zenith, banishing the shadows, drying up the marshes, extinguishing all noxious odours! O solstice everlasting, when the day no more declines! O light of the noontide! O happy season, representing at once the genial softness of spring, the loveliness of summer, the richness of autumn, and lest I should seem to omit anything, the peace and rest of winter! Or certainly, if you are better pleased with this, winter alone is then" over and gone."" Show me,"says the Spouse," this place of such brightness, peace, and plenitude, in order that, just as Jacob still abiding in the flesh beheld the Lord 'face to face and his soul was saved alive '; or as Moses saw Him, not like the other prophets, in symbols, signs and dreams, but in a far more excellent way, unknown to all save God and himself; or as Isaias, when the eyes of his heart had been opened, contemplated Him on His 'high and elevated throne '; or even as St. Paul gazed with mortal eyes upon the Lord Jesus Christ, what time he was rapt up to the third heaven and heard things unutterable— that so I, too, in spiritual rapture may deserve to see Thee in Thy light and in Thy beauty, and contemplate Thee where Thou feedest Thy flock on richer pastures than here on earth, and reposest with greater security.

"Here on earth also Thou dost feed Thy sheep, yet not unto fulness. Neither mayst Thou lie down here, but must rather stand and watch because of the ' terrors of the night.' Alas! we have in our present pasture neither clear light, nor full feeding, nor a safe dwelling. And hence I pray, ' Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.' Thou sayest I am blessed when I hunger and thirst after justice. But what is such blessedness to the happiness of those who are ' filled with the good things of Thy house,' who ' feast and rejoice before the Lord and are delighted with gladness '? Nevertheless, Thou dost pronounce me blessed if I sutler anything for justice sake. And certainly there is pleasure, though not security, in being fed where one has to fear suffering. But is it not a painful pleasure to be fed and afflicted at one and the same time? Everything here below falls short of perfection; many things are contrary to my will; and nothing is safe. When wilt Thou ' fill me with joy with Thy Countenance '? ' Thy Face, O Lord, will I seek.' For Thy Face is the noontide. O ' Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day '! I know well enough where Thou feedest standing. But show me where Thou feedest and reclinest. Neither am I ignorant where Thou are wont to feed Thy flock at other times. But I desire to know ' where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.' For during the whole period of my mortal career, I have been accustomed, under Thy care, to feed myself and others upon Thee as Thou art to be found in the law and in the prophets and in the psalms. I have likewise found refreshment in the evangelical pastures and in the writings of the apostles. Often, too, have I, like a beggar, borrowed what nourishment I could for myself and my children from the examples, the speeches, and the writings of Thy saints. But more frequently — this kind of food being more within reach — I have eaten the bread of affliction and drunk the wine of compunction; and ' my tears have been my bread day and night, whilst it is said to me daily: where is thy God? ' Yet sometimes from Thy table — for ' Thou hast prepared a table before me, against them that afflict me ' — sometimes, I say, from Thy table, as a gift of Thy compassion, I receive the meat that restores my vigour, when my soul is sad and troubling me. These pastures are known to me, and thither I have often followed Thee as my Shepherd. But show me, I beseech Thee, those I have not yet enjoyed.

"There are indeed other Shepherds besides Thee, who say they are Thy companions, but are not. These have their own flocks and their own pastures, filled with the food of death, wherein they feed their sheep not with Thee nor under Thy direction. But their bounds I have not entered, nor even so much as approached. They are those who say ' Lo, here is Christ; lo, He is there,' promising more abundant fields of wisdom and knowledge. And they impose on the people and draw to them multitudes whom they make 1 children of hell twofold more than themselves.' Wherefore this? It is because we have here neither the meridian nor the clear light of day, wherein the truth might be readily recognised, for which now falsity, because of its resemblance to it, is easily mistaken; for it is difficult to distinguish them in the twilight, especially since ' stolen waters are sweeter and hidden bread more pleasant.' And, therefore, I entreat Thee to ' show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day/ that is, in the broad daylight, lest I be seduced and ' begin to wander after the flocks of Thy companions,' who are themselves but strays and wanderers, having no certain truth to direct them, ' ever learning and never attaining to a knowledge of the truth.' "So far the Spouse, speaking of the doctrines, as various as vain, of heretics and philosophers.

It seems to me, however, that not alone on account of such human seducers, but also because of the wiles of the invisible powers, the lying spirits who sit in ambush with their "arrows prepared in the quiver, to shoot in the dark the upright of heart" — it seems to me, I say, that because of these especially, we also ought to desire the mid-day, in order to detect by the clear light the cunning snares of the demon, and to distinguish easily from our good angel that angel of Satan who transforms himself into an angel of light. For it is only in the light of noon-day that we can defend ourselves from "the invasion and from the noon-day devil." And the reason why that demon is called the noon-day devil is, I believe, this. There are some amongst the malignant spirits, who although by reason of their darkened and obstinate will, they may justly be named night and night everlasting, yet know how to simulate the day, and even the noon-day, in order to deceive us. So their leader, not content with making himself the equal of God, goes so far as to "oppose and to be lifted up against all that is called God, or that is worshipped." Whenever, therefore, such a noon-day devil takes hold of anyone to tempt him, it is quite impossible that he should be thwarted and fail of his object, but he will most certainly seduce and supplant his victim by the false appearance of virtue, moving the incautious and unguarded soul to take evil for good, unless the true Noon-day, the Orient from on high, shall enlighten her, and unmask and expose the deceiver. And it is when he comes to us with the suggestion of a greater good, as it were, that the tempter appears as the noon-day, that is, in more than his usual brightness.

How often, for example, has he* not urged one or other of you, my brethren, to anticipate the hour of rising, so that afterwards he might have the satisfaction of seeing him nodding whilst all the rest were employed in praising God! How often has he not induced another to prolong his fast until loss of strength rendered him useless for the divine service! How many, through envy of the rapid progress they were making in community life, has he not persuaded, under the pretext of higher perfection, to seek the desert! And at length, when it was all too late, his poor dupes came to realise the truth of the oracle, "Woe to him that is alone, for when he falleth he hath none to lift him up!" How many also has he not tempted to apply themselves with excessive zeal to manual labour, with the view that they might injure their health and so require to be dispensed from all the regular exercises! What numbers has he not led to undertake "bodily exercise," which, [according to the Apostle, is "profitable to little," not in a little but in too great a degree, and so defrauded them of the merit of piety! Finally, you yourselves, my brethren, know by experience how some — and I speak it to their shame — who once could not be restrained within the limits of moderation, being carried on in everything by the spirit of intemperate zeal, have afterwards relapsed into such a depth of sloth that we may apply to them the words of St. Paul: they began in the spirit and are now ending in the flesh. For they seem now to have made a most dishonourable peace with those bodies against which they had previously declared merciless war. You may see such religious — shame on them, I say! — who before used to refuse even necessaries with the utmost obstinacy, now begging importunately for superfluities. And even though there be some who still continue inflexibly stubborn, by their indiscreet abstinence and notable singularity still disturbing the consciences of their brethren with whom they should "dwell together in unity," I know not whether they suppose themselves to have preserved their piety, but to me they seem to have renounced it even more completely than those others above-mentioned. For religious persons who, being wise in their own conceit, have determined with themselves to be guided neither by the commands nor the counsels of their superiors, ought to consider what answer they shall make, not to me, but to Him Who says, "It is like the sin of witchcraft to rebel; and like the crime of idolatry to refuse to obey." And He declared just before that "Obedience is better than sacrifices, and to hearken rather than to offer the fat of rams" — where the fat of rams may be taken to signify the abstinence of the obstinate. Hence the Lord asks by the mouth of His Prophet, "Shall I eat the flesh of bullocks? or shall I drink the blood of goats?" By which He means to tell us that He will 1 eject utterly the fastings of the proud and the sensual.

But I now feel apprehensive lest, whilst condemning the superstitiously austere, I should seem to encourage the lax, and that the latter should hear to their hurt what has been offered as a remedy to the former. Wherefore, let both the one class and the other remember that there are four kinds of temptation. They are thus described for us in the words of the Psalmist, "His truth shall compass thee with a shield; thou shalt not be afraid of the terror of the night; of the arrow that flieth in the day; of the business that walketh about in the dark; of invasion, or of the noon-day devil." Let all, even you who are neither over-lax nor over- austere, be now attentive to what I think will be profitable to all. Every one of us, my brethren, after his conversion to the Lord, has experienced and does still experience in himself that which Holy Scripture says, "Son, when thou comest to the service of God, stand in justice and fear, and prepare thy soul for temptation." Consequently, according to the rule of ordinary providence, during the first stage of our conversion we were agitated with fear, which is excited in the minds of beginners by the terrifying prospect of a stricter life, and the austerity of regular discipline. Now, this fear is called the "terror of the night," either because the word "night" is used in Holy Scripture to designate adversity; or because we are kept still in the dark about the reward for the sake of which we go forward to suffer what is painful. For if that day had fully brightened, in the light of which we could behold with equal clearness both our labours and the immortal crowns which shall compensate them, no toils, however great, would inspire us with alarm, on account of the eagerness with which we should long for the fruits of them, thus distinctly perceived. This is clear from the words of the Apostle, "The sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us." But now, because they — the rewards — are hidden from our eyes, there is night meantime and in so far. For we are tempted by the "terror of the night," being afraid to endure our present labours for the crowns which we do not see. Beginners, therefore, have to watch and pray against this first temptation particularly, lest, suddenly overtaken by "pusillanimity of spirit and the storm," they should — which God forbid! — abandon their holy enterprise.

Having overcome this temptation to despair, we have next to arm ourselves against human praise, which is evoked especially by holiness of life. Otherwise we shall run the risk of being wounded by the "arrow that flieth in the day," that is to say, by vainglory. For, in a sense, good fame may truly be said to fly. And it flies in the day, because it springs from the works of light. But if this temptation also is blown aside like an idle vapour, it remains for the seducer to offer us something more substantial, namely, the riches and honours of the world, in the hope that he who refuses praise may still be willing to accept wealth and dignity. Consider here, my brethren, if this be not the order in which the temptations were presented to Our Lord in the desert. After the suggestion to throw Himself from the pinnacle of the temple, which was intended to excite vainglory, He was shown and offered all the kingdoms of the world. Do you, then, imitate your Master in resisting this third temptation also. If not, you must inevitably be overcome by the ' business that walketh about in the dark," which is hypocrisy. For this vice is born of ambition and makes its abode in obscurity, since it dissembles what it is and simulates what it is not. Busily intriguing at all times, it retains the appearance of piety as a disguise, laying claim to⁴ the merit of virtue and buying the honours thereof.

The last temptation is from the "noon-day devil," who is wont to lie in wait particularly for the perfect. These, as being men of virtue, have escaped all other dangers, viz., from pleasures, applause, and honours. The tempter has now no other weapon wherewith to attack them openly. He comes therefore masked, since he no longer dares to show himself in his real char-after. And those whom he knows from experience will turn away in horror from manifest evil, he endeavours to seduce by a deceptive appearance of good. Even such as can say with the Apostle, "We are not ignorant of his devices," have to be anxiously on their guard against this snare, and that the more, the further advanced they are in virtue. Hence it is that Mary was troubled at the angelic salutation, suspecting, as I think, some hidden deceit. Josue also refused to receive the friendly angel until he had satisfied himself that he was really a friend. For he inquired whether he was on his own side or was in league with his adversaries, as one who had experience of the cunning tricks of this "noon-day devil." On a certain occasion, again, when the apostles were labouring at the oars, the wind being contrary and blowing the ship about, they saw the Lord walking on the sea; and supposing Him to be a spirit, they cried out for fear. Is it not plain that they then showed their dread and suspicion of the noon-day devil? And you remember the words of Holy Scripture that "in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking upon the sea." It is therefore in the fourth watch, that is to say, in the final stage of our progress towards perfection, that we have to look out for this temptation. And we are given to understand that the higher a soul finds herself to be exalted, the more careful should she be in watching against the "invasion and the noon-day devil." Furthermore, when the true Meridian manifested Himself to the disciples with the words, "It is I, fear not," immediately they were enabled to put aside their suspicion of the counterfeit. Would to God that to us also, whenever specious falsity attempts to impose on us, the true Meridian, "the Orient from on high," would "send forth His light and His truth" to expose the fraud and again, as in the beginning, to divide the light from the darkness, so that we may no longer deserve to be reproached by the Prophet as "putting darkness for light and light for darkness"!

I will next attempt to point out how these four temptations have attacked in their order even the mystical body of Christ, which is the Church, that is, unless so long a sermon would weary you. Well, I will make the exposition as brief as I can. Consider, then, the primitive Church, and see if it was not pervaded and most fiercely assailed by the "terror of the night." For then surely it was night, when everyone who slew the saints thought he was doing a service to God. But when this temptation had been overcome and the tempest had passed over, the Church appeared in glory, and, according to the promise made to it, soon occupied the place of pre-eminence in the world. Then the enemy, enraged by his previous disappointment, cunningly exchanged the "terror of the night" for the "arrow that flieth in the day," and with it, as St. Paul speaks, wounded "some of the Church." For there arose vain men, who hungered after earthly glory and sought to make a name for themselves. Going forth from the Christian body, they began to afflict their holy mother by teaching diverse and perverse doctrines. But this second plague found a remedy in the wisdom of the doctors, as did the first in the patience of the martyrs.

The present generation, my brethren, is, through the mercy of God, free from both these dangers. But it is manifestly corrupted by the "business that walketh about in the dark." Woe to this generation by reason of the leaven of the Pharisees! I mean, because of its hypocrisy, if indeed that ought to be called hypocrisy which is now too prevalent to lie concealed and too impudent to seek concealment. To-day the foul disease has spread itself throughout the whole body of Christ's mystical Bride, the more incurable in proportion as it is widely extended, and the more deadly the more deeply it penetrates. Were one to rise up against holy mother Church, teaching open heresy, he would be cut off like an infected member, and cast forth to rot. Were a persecuting enemy to appear against her, she might perhaps hide herself from his violence. But now whom shall she cast forth, and from whom shall she hide herself? All are her friends and nevertheless all are her enemies. All are her children and, at the same time, all are her adversaries. All arc her domestics, yet none give her peace. All are her neighbours, whilst all seek the things that are their own. They are Christ's ministers, but they serve Antichrist. Honoured with the goods of the Lord, they refuse to render due honour to the Lord. Hence that worldly ornamentation which daily meets our eyes, that showy style of dress, more befitting a stage-player than a Christian cleric, that splendour of appointment which even kings might envy. Hence the gold mountings on bridles, saddles, and spurs; for such trappings are more carefully embellished than the altars of God. Hence the splendid tables, furnished with costly plate and delicate viands. Hence the "drunkenness and revellings." Hence the music of the harp and the lyre and the flute. Hence the brimming winepresses, and the "storehouses full, flowing out of this into that." Hence the phials of sweet perfumes. Hence the well-filled coffers. It is for the sake of such things that they desire to be, and do actually become provosts of churches, deans, archdeacons, bishops, archbishops. For these dignities are not now bestowed upon merit, but are given to that "business that walketh about in the dark," namely, to ambition.

It was said of old, and now we see the fulfilment of the prediction, "Behold in peace is my bitterness most bitter." Bitter was the bitterness of holy mother Church in the early ages whilst the martyrs were being slaughtered; it was more bitter during her struggle with heresy; but it is now become most bitter owing to the corrupt morals of her own children. These she can neither drive away nor flee from, so powerful! have they grown, and "they are multiplied beyond number." She is now attacked by an internal and incurable distemper, and therefore "in peace is her bitterness most bitter." But in what peace? There is peace and there is no peace. There is peace from infidels and peace from heretics, but she has no peace from her children. "I have brought up children and exalted them, but they have despised me." Such is her plaintive cry in our day. "They have heaped contempt and dishonour on me by their shameful lives, by their shameful love of lucre, by their shameful traffic, by their devotion to the ' business that walketh about in the dark.' "It only remains now for the "noon-day devil "to make his appearance in order to seduce, if he can, the remnant who still abide in Christ, persevering in their simplicity. For he has already swallowed up the "rivers "of the wise and the "torrents "of the powerful, "and he trusteth that the Jordan-that is to say, the simple and humble children of the Church— may run into his mouth." This is Antichrist⁵ who simulates the day, yea, and the Meridian, "and is lifted up above all that is called God, or that is worshipped." Him may the Lord Jesus slay "with the Spirit of His Mouth and with the brightness of His coming," as the true and never-fading Meridian, the Bridegroom and Advocate of the Church, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

Footnotes

1. Cf. The Imitation, Bk. IV, ch. ». f Cf. 4 Kings iv. 39-41. ↩

2. In the Latin, "Domine Sabaoth," Lord of Hosts; but the context seems to require both here and elsewhere, "Domine Sabbati," Lord of Rest (cf. Mark ii. 28), and so I have rendered it. — (Translator.) ↩

3. This is St. Bernard's interpretation of the text "adhuc modicum lumen in vobis est" (John xii. 35) which is commonly rendered, "Yet a little while the light is among you." — (Translator.) ↩

4. "Virtutem ejus vindicans." Many editions have "venditans," which seems to make no good sense. The reading adopted here is Mabillon's. — (Translator.) ↩

5. It may be of interest to observe that in St. Bernard's own day the coming of Antichrist was believed to be at hand. St ISoibert, Founder of the Premonstratensians, claimed to have* A^w d//1eveIation to that effect. He was visited by the Abbot of Clairvaux, who has left us an account of the interview in his 56th Epistle: "He declared that he knew for certain?+w lSt WaS t0 be revered in the present generation and that he himself would live to see a general persecution. Still I was not convinced."—(Translator.) ↩