Sermon LXXXV. On the Seven Reasons on Account of which the Soul Seeks the Word

"In my bed by night I sought Him Whom my soul loveth."

"In my bed by night I sought Him Whom my soul loveth." Why does she seek Him, my brethren? I have told you already, and there is no necessity to repeat. Yet for the sake of some of you who were not present on the previous occasion when this question was under discussion, I will now again touch upon it briefly. And perchance what I have to say will not be without interest even for those who listened to my last sermon. For the subject could not be exhaustively treated in a single discourse. The soul therefore seeks the Word in order to "be at agreement "with Him by submitting to His correction, in order to be enlightened by His illumination, in order to be advanced to virtue by the assistance of His power, in order to acquire wisdom under His discipline and instruction, in order to be made beautiful by conformity to His perfection, in order to become a mother by being united with Him in spiritual wedlock, in order, lastly, to feel the delight which is found in His caresses. For all and each of these reasons the soul seeks the Word. I have no doubt that there are very many other motives besides, but these are all that at present occur to me. Anyone that cares to take the trouble can easily extend the list by self-examination. For since our infidelities are many, many also, aye, countless are the necessities of our souls, and of our anxieties there is no number. But although our misery is so great, greater still and more unmeasured is the Word's abounding wealth. For He is that Wisdom Which no malice overcometh and Which conquers evil with good. And let me give you the reason of the reasons I have mentioned. To begin with that which is first, consider in what manner the soul seeks the Word to "be at agreement "with Him. In the Gospel we read these words of the Word, "Be at agreement with thy adversary betimes, whilst thou art in the way with him; lest perhaps the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer." What wiser counsel could be offered? And in giving it the Word, if I mistake not, represents Himself as an adversary, for the reason that He stands opposed to our carnal desires, whilst He says of us, "These always err in heart." Thou, therefore, my brother, who hearest these words, if terrified, thou art beginning to have the wish to "fly from the wrath to come," I believe thou wilt be anxious to know how thou mayst "be at agreement with thy Adversary," and so escape that wrath which He here appears to threaten thee with in such awful language. But thou canst not "be at agreement "with Him unless thou art at variance with thyself, unless thou art an adversary to thyself, unless with earnest and vigilant striving thou wagest against thyself an unceasing war, unless, finally, thou renouncest thy inveterate evil habits and thy natural affections. This, no doubt, is a difficult thing to do. To attempt it, relying on thine own strength exclusively would be the same as to endeavour with one of thy fingers to stop the course of a torrent. It would be like tr5dng to turn back again the waters of Jordan. What then art thou to do? Seek out the Word in order that thou mayst be reconciled to Him by means of the grace wherewith He will supply thee. Have recourse to Him Who is now thy Adversary, in order to be made such by Him that He will no longer be thy Adversary, but will caress instead of menacing, and will demonstrate the infusion of grace to be a more powerful corrective than the threatening of wrath.

Such, I take it, is the first necessity on account of which the soul begins to seek the Word. But if thou art yet ignorant as to the will of Him with Whom art now "at agreement" in thine own will, shall it not be said of thee also that thou hast "a zeal of God but not according to knowledge"? And lest thou shouldst regard this as of little moment, remember the words of the Apostle, "If any man know not, he shall not be known." Dost thou desire to hear what I would counsel thee to do in the present necessity also? I would recommend thee to act in precisely the same way as in the preceding. If thou wilt follow my advice thou wilt this time also have recourse to the Word that He may instruct thee in His ways. Otherwise, in willing the good without knowing what is good, thou shalt be exposed to the danger of straying from thy course and "wandering where there is no passing and out of the way." For the Word is Light. Hence the Psalmist sings, "The declaration of Thy words giveth light, and giveth understanding to little ones." Blessed art thou if it is possible for thee also to say sincerely with the same Prophet, "Thy word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my paths." No slight progress has that soul made whose will has been so won to grace and whose intellect so enlightened by heavenly wisdom that she has now both the knowledge and the desire of the good. With the power to will what is good the soul has received the gift of life, with the power to know what is good, she has obtained the faculty of vision. For she was dead by willing what was evil, and she was blind through not knowing what was good.

She is now living, she has now restored to her the sense of sight, she is now established in good, but all by the power and operation of the Word. She stands upon the two feet, as it were, of knowledge and love, and is held erect by the Hand of the Word. She stands, yes, but let her believe that it is to herself are addressed the words of warning, "He that thinketh himself to stand, let him take heed lest he fall." Dost thou imagine that thou art able to stand by thine own strength, whereas thou wert not able to rise by thine own strength? To me this appears impossible. And dost thou ask the reason? "By the Word of the Lord," says the Psalmist, "the heavens were established." And shall a thing of earth, thinkest thou, be established without the same Word's assistance? Why, therefore, if earth has the power to stand of itself, does a man of earth pray thus to the Lord, "Strengthen Thou me in Thy words"? He had even learned by experience how impossible it was for him to stand without the divine help. For it is the same voice that we hear in the psalm says, "Being pushed I was overturned that I might fall; but the Lord hath supported me." Dost thou ask who it was that pushed him? There were more than one. Man is pushed by the devil, he is pushed by the world, he is pushed also by man. But who is this man that pushes? Each one of us, my brethren, is pushed by himself. "Wonder not at this." So powerful a pusher of himself and overthrower of himself is man, that if one would only keep his hands off himself, he should have but very little to fear from the push which others could give him. Hence St. Peter asks,"And who is he that can hurt you, if you be zealous of good?" The hand wherewith thou pushest thyself is the consent of thy will. If, therefore, whenever the devil suggests evil to thee, or the world attempts to urge thee to what is unlawful, thou dost withhold thy consent, refusing to "yield thy members to serve iniquity," not suffering "sin to reign in thy mortal body," thou hast shown thyself to be "zealous of good," and malice consequently has no power to harm thee. And see if so far from harming, it does not rather help thee. For it is written, "Do that which is good and thou shalt have praise from the same." "They have been confounded who sought thy soul," whilst thou with the Psalmist art able to sing, "If they shall have no dominion over me, then shall I be without spot." Thou hast certainly given signal proof that thou art "zealous of good" if, in accordance with the Wise Man's counsel, thou "hast pity on thine own soul," if "with all watchfulness thou keepest thy heart," if in obedience to the injunction of St. Paul thou dost "keep thyself chaste." Otherwise, although thou shouldst gain the whole world, whilst yet thou suffer est the loss of thine own soul, I certainly shall not account thee to be zealous of good, since the Saviour Himself does not so account thee.

There are, then, three powers conspiring for the overthrow of him who stands. Of these, the devil pushes by envy and malice, the world by the wind of vainglory, and man by the dead weight of his own corruption. The devil has only the power to push thee: he cannot cast thee down if thou deniest him thy help by refusing to consent to him. Hence we read in Holy Scripture, "Resist the devil and he will fly from you." It is he who, through envy of their happy state, pushed our first parents when they were standing in paradise. Nevertheless he would not have succeeded in making them fall, had they not consented to his suggestion. It is he again who, by his pride, was cast headlong down from heaven, pushed by none save himself — which should make us understand that we are ourselves in much greater danger of falling in the same way, pressed down as we are by the weight of our own very substance. The world also pushes us, because it is wholly "seated in wickedness." All men are pushed by it, but none are overthrown except its friends, that is to say, those who consent to it. I have no desire for the friendship of the world lest it should occasion my fall, because "whosoever will be a friend of this world becometh an enemy of God." And there can be no fall more desperate than this. From what has been said it clearly follows that the most dangerous push of all is that which a man receives from himself. For whereas he can be made to fall by his own impulse without being pushed by any other, he cannot be made to faU by the impulse of others unless he also pushes himself.¹ To which of these opposing powers must we offer the greatest resistance? Surely to that which is all the more dangerous in proportion as it is the more interior, which is able to cast us down by itself alone, and without which the rest can do nothing. It is not without good reason that the Wise Man prefers "him that ruleth his spirit" to "him that taketh cities." This, my brethren, contains a very important lesson for us. It teaches us that we have need of virtue, and not of any natural virtue, but only of that wherewith we must be "endued from on high." Such virtue, if it is perfect, gives the soul an easy victory over herself, and arms her with invincible might against all her enemies. For it is an energy of mind which knows not how to yield to any force in defence of the reason.² Or, if you prefer, it is a vigour of soul which acts unconquerably with and in behalf of the reason. Or, finally, it is a spiritual power which, so far as depends upon it, governs and directs all things in accordance with reason, f

"Who shall ascend into the mountain of the Lord? "Anyone who makes an endeavour to attain to the summit of this spiritual mountain, that is to say, who strives to reach the perfection of virtue, shall be able to realise how difficult is the ascent thither, and how hopeless to attempt it without the assistance of the Word. Happy the soul that makes herself such an object of wonder and delight to the watching angels that she can hear them saying of her, *' Who is she that Cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her Beloved? "But in vain would be her efforts to rise if she leaned not on Him. By leaning on Him she is also enabled to vanquish herself; and thus made mistress of herself, she can bring all her feelings and passions under the rule of right reason. Like a skilful charioteer she shall drive the fourfold chariot of the mind, by which I mean the four emotions of anger, fear, desire, and love.³ And she shall reduce to captivity and render subservient to virtue, under the direction of judgment, every carnal affection and every bodily sense. How should not all things be possible to her since her Beloved on Whom she leans is almighty? What unbounded confidence is expressed in the words of St. Paul, "I can do all things in Him Who strengthen eth me "! There is nothing which renders more glorious the omnipotence of the Word than the fact that He makes omnipotent all who put their trust in Him. For, so it is written, "all things are possible to him that belie veth," and surely he is omnipotent to whom all things are possible. The soul, consequently, if she does not presume on her own strength, and deserves thereby to be strengthened by the Word, shall be able to govern herself, in such a way that "no iniquity shall have dominion "over her. Thus, I say, whilst she leans on her Beloved and is "endued with strength from on high," no force, no fraud, no enticement shall have the power either to cast her down from a standing position or to overthrow her authority.

Dost thou wish, my brother, to be secured against the danger of being pushed by thyself? If so, "let not the foot of pride come near" thee, and the hand of him that pushes shall have no power to move thee. For "there (viz., in pride) the workers of iniquity are fallen." There the devil and his angels were thrown down, who, although they were not pushed from outside, were nevertheless "cast out and could not stand." Lucifer "stood not in the truth," because he leaned not on the Word, but trusted in his own unaided strength. And perhaps the reason why he desired to sit down was that he felt no longer able to stand. For he said, "I will sit in the mountain of the covenant." But God decreed it otherwise, and he neither stood nor sat but fell, according to the testimony of the Lord where He tells us, "I saw Satan like lightning fall from heaven." Therefore let not him who stands rely upon himself, but rather lean on the Word, unless he wishes to fall. The Word Himself has declared, "Without Me you can do nothing." And so it is. We can neither rise to what is good nor stand in what is good, without His assistance. Do thou, therefore, who standest, give glory to the Word, and sdiy, "He set my feet upon a rock and directed my steps." He by Whose Hand thou hast been lifted up, must now^ hold thee erect by His power. So much in support of the proposition which I laid down, namely, that we have need to lean upon the Word in order to attain to virtue.

We have next to enquire into the truth of another statement of mine, to wit, that it is only by the Word we can be reformed unto wisdom. Now the Word is V

512 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Virtue, and He is also Wisdom. Let the soul therefore borrow virtue from Virtue and wisdom from Wisdom. But let her attribute both these gifts to the one same

Word exclusively. Should she act otherwise, and arrogate to herself either her wisdom or her virtue, or the two together, as if she had not received them from the Word, let her also deny that the stream comes from the fountain, the grape from the vine, and the daylight from the sun. A "faithful saying" is that which we read, "if any of you want wisdom let him ask of God, Who giveth to all men abundantly and upbraideth not: and it shall be given him." St. James speaks here only of wisdom. But I venture to affirm that what he says of wisdom applies equally to virtue. For virtue is closely related to wisdom. Like wisdom it is a gift of God, and like wisdom also it is to be reputed one of the best and perfect gifts which "come down from the Father of lights." And if anyone were to hold that virtue is in all respects and absolutely identical with wisdom, I should not gainsay him, provided there was question of virtue and wisdom as existing in the Word. For although they are the same in the Word, by reason of the unique and absolute simplicity of the Divine Nature, they are not reflected in the soul in the same manner; but, as if they were distinct one from the other, they give themselves to be participated by her variously, according to her manifold and various necessities. In this way, it is one thing for the soul to be guided by virtue, and quite another to be governed by wisdom; it is one thing to rule herself with power, and another to taste the delights of spiritual sweetness. It is true, no doubt, that power belongs to wisdom as well as to virtue, and that sweetness belongs to virtue as well as to wisdom. Nevertheless, if we would assign its own proper effect to each of these two, namely, virtue and wisdom, we shall say that the presence of the former is indicated by vigour of soul, whilst the latter manifests itself by placidity of mind together with a certain spiritual sweetness. I believe this is the sweetness to which the Apostle alludes where, after many exhortations appertaining to virtue, he adds what belongs to wisdom, "In sweetness, in the Holy Ghost." Therefore to stand, to resist, to repel force with force, which are reckoned amongst the functions of virtue, are honourable actions indeed, but very laborious. There is a vast difference between defending one's honour with labour and possessing it in peace. It is not consequently the same thing to act in accordance with the rules of virtue and to feel a delight in the practice of virtue. Wisdom enjoys that which virtue toilsomely produces; and whatever wisdom ordains, determines, and regulates, virtue executes.

"Write wisdom in the time of leisure,"⁴ counsels the Wise Man. Therefore wisdom's time of leisure is not a time of idleness. Quite the contrary: the more at leisure she is, the more busily is she occupied with ner own peculiar interests. Virtue, on the other hand, appears to best advantage when it is seen in exercise, and its splendour is proportioned to its activity. And I do not think I should be far wrong were I to define wisdom as the love of virtue. But where love is, labour cannot be, but only enjoyment,⁵ And perhaps the word "sapientia" (wisdom) is derived from the word "sapor" (flavour) because wisdom, as if it were a kind of condiment, lends a pleasing flavour to the virtue to which it is added and which of itself, without such seasoning, would be dry, so to speak, and insipid. Neither would he seem to me deserving of censure who should define wisdom to be a relish for what is good. But we have lost this spiritual relish almost from the very first appearance of our race. At the moment when the carnal appetite prevailed and the old serpent with his poison corrupted the palate of the heart, the soul began to lose her natural love of good and to experience an inclination to evil. Hence it is written,"The imagination and thought of man's heart are prone to evil from his youth," namely, on account of the folly of the first woman. And so the folly (insipientia) of the woman deprived us of the relish (sapor) of good, because the foolishness of Eve was overreached by the malice of Satan. But if the serpent seemed to have conquered for a time by means of the woman, by the woman also he now laments that he has been eternally vanquished. For behold I Wisdom again took possession of the woman's heart and body, in order that we, who had been deformed unto foolishness by the woman, might again by the woman be reformed unto wisdom. And now wisdom is for ever overcoming malice in the minds into which it enters, and, expelling the relish for evil introduced by that, substitutes the relish for virtue. For when wisdom gains admission to the soul, it reveals to her the foolishness of following the senses, it purifies the intellect, and heals and renews the palate of the heart. With her spiritual taste thus restored, she begins again to have a relish for good. and a relish for wisdom, than which there is no greater good.

How many good works are done by men who yet feel no pleasure in the good they perform! This is due to the fact that such persons are not influenced in their actions by any relish for virtue, but only by motives of reason, by human respect, or by some kind of compulsion. On the other hand, many men find no satisfaction in the evils which they do, and are led to perform them either by the fear of other evil or by the desire of some good rather than by a love of evil for its own sake. But those who "have passed into the affection of the heart," as the Psalmist says, are either truly wise, and so take a delight in the relish of good, or they are truly malicious^ and consequently find pleasure in evil, even when it entices them with no hope of anything beyond itself. For what is malice but a relish for evil? Happy the soul which is entirely occupied by the love of good and the hatred of evil! This is what is meant by being reformed unto wisdom, this is to enjoy in oneself the happy experience of wisdom's triumph. For by what is wisdom more evidently shown to have conquered mahce than by the fact that, when the love of evil has been driven forth, the soul becomes conscious of a certain most intimate relish for good, which replenishes her whole interior with spiritual delight? Therefore, it is the part of virtue to suffer tribulations with fortitude; but it belongs to wisdom to rejoice in tribulations. It is the office of virtue to strengthen the heart and to "wait in patience for the Lord '; but it is for wisdom to "taste and see that the Lord is sweet." And that both these moral endowments may be more clearly exhibited in their proper and formal effects, I say that modesty of mind reveals the wise man, constancy of mind the virtuous man. Wisdom is rightly placed after virtue, because virtue is the strong and firm foundation, so to speak, whereupon "wisdom hath built herself a house." But it is necessary for both virtue and wisdom to be preceded by the knowledge of good, since the light of wisdom can have no fellowship with the darkness of ignorance. Goodness of will must likewise have preceded, because "wisdom will not enter into a malicious soul.'

Now since the soul has given proof of her restoration to life by the change in her will, of her recovered health by her enlightenment, of her stability by her virtue, and finally of her maturity by her wisdom, it remains that we discover for her that beauty without which she cannot find favour in the eyes of Him Who is "beautiful above the sons of men." She has herself heard Him say in the psalm, "The King shall greatly desire thy beauty." How precious and how great are the gifts of the soul which I have enumerated, gifts bestowed upon her by the Word, namely, goodness of will, knowledge, virtue, and wisdom! Nevertheless the Word is nowhere said to desire any of these. The Scripture only says, "The King shall greatly desire thy beauty." In another place the Psalmist sings, "The Lord hath reigned. He is clothed with beauty." And why should He not desire a similar robe of beauty for her who is at once His image and His Spouse? For the more closely she resembles Him, the more tenderly shall He cherish her. Now in what exactly does the beauty of the soul consist? Shall we say that it consists in what is called holiness of life? For the present, at any rate, let us adopt this view, until something better occurs to us. To discover whether or not a soul possesses holiness we have to examine her external conduct, because although external conduct does not constitute holiness, it is the medium by which holiness is manifested. In the heart holiness has its origin and its home, for its "glory is the testimony of conscience." Nothing can be clearer than this light, nothing more glorious than this testimony, when truth shines in the soul and the soul sees herself in truth. But how does she appear to herself? She appears chaste and modest, fearful and circumspect, carefully avoiding everything which could tarnish the glory of the testimony of her conscience, conscious to herself of nothing which could put her to shame in the presence of truth, of nothing which could compel her to turn away her eyes, dazzled and confounded, from the light of the glory of God. This, my brethren, this indeed is that beauty of the soul which beyond all her other gifts and graces delights the eyes of the Word, and to which I would give the name and definition of holiness of life.

But when the brightness of this beauty has filled superabundantly the interior places of the heart and conscience, it must begin to reveal itself externally also, like a lamp hidden under a bushel, or rather as a "light shining in darkness," which cannot remain concealed. Accordingly, shining forth from its dwelling within, and sending out its luminous rays, so to speak, it acts upon the body, making it the image of the mind, diffuses its influence over all the members and faculties thereof, and communicates a new grace to a man's every action, word, look and movement, even to his laughter (if he should ever indulge in this), all of which appear now to be stamped with dignity and adorned with innocence. And when these and all other such motions, activities, and exercises of the various bodily powers and members are seen to be grave, simple, and modest, neither insolent nor over-free, equally removed from sloth and giddiness, conformed to the rules of decorum, and conducive to piety, then, my brethren, the beauty of the soul is externally manifested, provided however that "there is no guile in her spirit." For it is possible that all such manifestations are merely simulated, and do not proceed out of the abundance of the heart. But in order that this spiritual loveliness may be exhibited in greater splendour, I shall here, if it is pleasing to you, define what is meant by that holiness which I have pronounced to be the formal constituent of the soul's beauty. Such holiness, then, is the nobility of a soul solicitous to preserve fair fame with purity of conscience, or, in the words of the Apostle, "to provide good things not only in the sight of God but also in the sight of all men." Blessed is the soul which has clothed herself with this beauty of sanctity, with this whiteness of heavenly innocence, whereby she can lay claim to a conformity, not with the world, but with the Word, of Whom it is written that He is "the Splendour of Eternal Life," "the Brightness of God's Glory and the Figure of His Substance."

Such a soul, my brethren, which has thus attained to the degree of holiness of life, now ventures to aspire to the spiritual nuptials of the Word. And why should she not, since by her resemblance to the Beloved she recognises herself to be qualified and lipe for union with Him? Nor, as His Bride, shall she fear the Majesty of Him with WTiom she is in a manner associated by their mutual likeness, to Whose friendship she is admitted by the merit of her love, and to Whom the marriage- vow unites her in wedlock. This is the marriage-vow: "I have sworn and am determined to keep the judgments of Thy justice." It was their fidelity to this engagement the apostles wished to signify when they said by the mouth of St. Peter, "Behold we have left all things and have followed Thee." Similar are the words of St. Paul, which, although spoken with reference to carnal marriage, may be also understood of the spiritual union of Christ with His Church. The Apostle says, "For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh." And in the psalm we hear the Bride of the Word singing with exultation, "But it is good for me to adhere to my God, and to put my hope in the Lord God." Therefore, my brethren, whenever you see a soul which, renouncing every other interest, cleaves to the Word with all her desires, lives by the Word, rules herself by the Word, conceives by His grace and inspiration the fruit of good works which she brings forth unto Him, so that she can say wath the Apostle, "For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain"; regard such a soul as a true Bride, united in wedlock to the Word. And "the Heart of her Husband trusteth in her," because she has given Him proof of her fidelity in that she has despised all things else for His sake, and "counts them but as dung that she may gain Christ." Such a soul did the Saviour recognise in him of whom He said, "This man is to Me a vessel of election." And surely that soul of St. Paul's was as tender a mother to her spiritual offspring as she was a faithful wife to her Husband: which may be inferred from his words, "My little children, of whom I am in labour again until Christ be formed in you."

But consider that in the state of spiritual marriage there are two modes of parturition, and consequently two kinds of offspring, distinct from each other, yet not opposed. For the mystical mothers bring forth souls by preaching, and interior lights by contemplation. In this second mode of parturition, the soul is sometimes rapt in ecstasy, and withdrawn from the bodily senses, and so completely absorbed in admiration of the Word that she loses even consciousness of self. This happens when, under the attraction of the Word's ineffable sweetness, she in a manner steals herself from herself, or rather is ravished away and escapes from herself, in order that she may enjoy the Word. But not in the same manner is the spiritual mother affected when she is occupied in bringing forth the fruit of souls to the Word, as when she is thus enjoying His caresses. It is purely out of solicitude for her neighbour and his necessities that she devotes herself to the former employment; to the latter she is invited by the sweetness of the Word. As a mother she rejoices in her offspring; but greater are the delights she experiences as a Bride in the arms of her Bridegroom. Dear to her heart are her children, the precious pledges of conjugal love; but she finds more pleasure in the embraces of her Husband. It is good for her to be helping many to salvation; but it is something far sweeter to be transported out of herself and united with the Word. But when does this happen? And how long does it last? It is an intercourse of love most delightful to experience, but it is as rare as it is delightful, and as short-lived as rare. This is what was placed last amongst the soul's motives for seeking the Word, in the list which I gave at the beginning of this sermon, where I said that she seeks Him in order to feel the delight which is found in His caresses.

Perhaps there are some of you who would now hke an explanation of what it is to enjoy the Word in this way? If so, I can only counsel them to seek out one who has had the experience and to present their request to him. But even though I also had been privileged sometimes to enjoy that favour, do you suppose it would be possible for me to describe the ineffable? Hear how the Apostle speaks of such an experience, "whether we be transported in mind, it is to God; or whether we be sober, it is for you." As if he should say, "I have one kind of intercourse with God alone and by His sole will, and I have another kind of intercourse in which you may participate. The former may be enjoyed indeed, but cannot be expressed in human language; in the latter I condescend so far to you as to speak in words which you can comprehend." O whosoever thou art that wouldst learn what it is to enjoy the Word, get ready, not thine ear, but thy heart. For no tongue but grace alone is capable of teaching thee this. It is "hidden from the wise and the prudent" and "revealed to little ones." Great therefore, my brethren, truly great and sublime is the virtue of humility which can merit what cannot be taught, which is worthy of receiving what cannot be learned, which deserves to conceive of the Word and by the Word what no words can express. And wherefore? Not because these things are really due to the humble soul, but because such is the good pleasure of the Father of the Word, her Bridegroom, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen,

Footnotes

1. That is to say, the world and the devil can do no more than entice us to evil, and even for this they are dependent on the co-operation of our passions, but man has the power not alone of tempting himself, but also of yielding consent to temptation.— (Translator.) ↩

2. The proper function of the virtues is to prevent passion from clouding the Hght of reason and to fortify the will against the force of concupiscence, which is ever trying to draw it away from the guidance of judgment. He that lives in complete accordance with right reason is a perfect man; and virtue owes its very name to the fact that it enables us to attain to this perfection, "virtus" being a derivative of "vir" — "appellata est a viro virtus," Cicero, Tusc. quest. 1. ii. How the various moral virtues conspire for the defence of reason, none has more beautifully described then St. Bernard himself, in De Consideratione, 1. i. c. viii. — (Translator.) •j- Similarly St. Thomas (after St. Augustine), "virtue is a good quality or habit of mind by which we live according to reason, which no one makes an ill use of, and which God produces in us without our co-operation" (I. ii. q. 55, a. 4.) — (Translator.) ↩

3. See note at p. 95, vol, i.— (Translator.) ↩

4. "Sapientiam scribe in otio" (Eccles. xxxviii. 25). The Vulgate has. "Sapientia scribae in tempore vacuitatis," which is rendered by the Douay Translators, "The wisdom of a scribe Cometh by his time of leisure." — (Translator.) ↩

5. "Ubi autem amor est labor non est sed sapor." Cf. St. Augustine, "In eo quod amatur, aut non laboratur, aut ct labor amatur" {De Ion. vid., c. 20). — (Translator.) ↩