Chapter XIX: Of those who are Filled unto all the Fulness of God

WHEN the human soul has been faithful to the impulses of grace, and when, being resolved to unite herself more closely to God, she has put herself entirely into the hands of His divine Majesty, God continues the course of His mercies, and however magnificent His gifts may have been up to this time, they could not for a moment be put side by side with the wonderful favours reserved for the soul in the supreme or transforming union, called sometimes mystic theology, which is an experimental and immediate perception of God.

We can easily conceive that to be apt for such a favour the soul must have been purified to her very depths, elevated and remade. St. Paul's words to the Romans must have been accomplished in her: "For if we have been planted together in the likeness of His death, we shall be also in the likeness of His resurrection. Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, to the end that we may serve sin no longer. For he that is dead is justified from sin."¹

The soul has even beforehand been deprived of all that is sensible in her devotion and has trodden that way of which our Lord spoke to His apostles when He said: "But I tell you the truth: it is expedient to you that I go; for if I go not the Paraclete will not come to you, but if I go, I will send Him to you.”² St. Mary Magdalene, who was accustomed to such tender intimacy with our blessed Lord, had, after the resurrection, to go by another path of divine love. As the recompense of her fidelity He says to her: “Do not touch Me, for I am not yet ascended to My Father, but go to My brethren, and say to them: I ascend to My Father and to your Father, to My God and to your God.”³ Thus at the very moment when the Master seems to repulse her, He gives her the mission of proclaiming the close bonds formed between God and man, for the hour is come when that manifestation so ardently prayed for by our Saviour is at last perfected: “And I have made known Thy name to them, and will make it known: that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in them and I in them.”⁴

Indeed, according to the teaching of St. Thomas, the invisible mission of the divine Persons takes place on three occasions. The first is in Baptism and in the justification of the sinner; the second is made to the blessed as soon as they enter heaven: “To the blessed there is made an invisible mission in that very beginning of their beatitude”;⁵ the third is accomplished when man, being already purified, acquires a new degree of grace and of virtue: “Likewise an invisible mission is given for the advance of virtue or the increase of grace.”⁶ From this principle we may conclude that the Holy Spirit, who is eternal love, by this higher union, comes to enrich the human soul in a way altogether new, which for her is like a true Pentecost. It is thus that St. Augustine explains the nature of the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles: “On that day He was present to His faithful, not merely by the grace of justification, but by the very presence of His Majesty Himself; and there was in the vessel not merely the odour of the balsam, but the very substance of the ointment itself.”⁷

God is present in the soul of the just man by His immensity and by the sanctifying grace which He produces in it; but the soul cannot perceive this union unless God, who is, so to say, hidden within her, communicates and makes Himself known to her powers, and unites Himself to them so that these powers can act upon Him as their object. Then God, by a singular grace, manifests Himself in such sort that He Himself, who created and who preserves the soul, becomes for the understanding an object of experimental knowledge, and for the will an object of truly admirable possession.

St. Bernard has some remarkable words on this subject, when in his commentary on the Canticle of Canticles he gathers up all the ardent sighs and transports of ecstatic union, and points out that the soul is not yet satisfied with all these favours unless she more immediately still possesses her heavenly Spouse: “Unless also by a special prerogative she receives Him coming down from on high into her intimate affections and into the very marrow of her heart, and hath Him whom she desires not in figure, but poured into her very self.”⁸ St. Thomas, in his precise and vigorous language, describes real union when he says: “For inasmuch as love transforms, it brings about that the lover even enters into the one beloved, and contrariwise; so that nothing of the loved object remains ununited to the lover.”⁹

In the fourteenth century blessed Angela of Foligno describes this state: “My soul is made certain that God is within her, when she feeleth Him in a way different from what she is wont, with a notable and redoubled feeling, and with such great love and divine fire that all love of soul and body is taken from her; and she speaketh and knoweth and understandeth things which she hath never heard from any mortal; and she understandeth them with great light, and it is an exceeding punishment for her to be silent about them; and if she be silent, she is silent out of zeal not to displease her love, nor to give scandal, and out of humility, because she desireth not to speak of such exceeding high things. “... Likewise in this feeling, by which the soul is made certain that God Almighty is within her, there is given unto the soul so perfect a will that the whole soul is truly in harmony therewith, and all the members of the body, in all things and in every kind of way, are in harmony with the soul, and are made truly one with her, nor do they in any way resist her will. And she willeth perfectly the things that are God’s, which formerly of a truth she was not in the habit of willing with her whole will. And this will is given by grace, and in it the soul knoweth that God Almighty is in her and giveth her security. For it is given unto the soul to desire God, and the things which are God's, after the likeness of the true love with which God hath loved us; and the soul feeleth that God, who cannot be measured, is mingled with her, and hath given her His company."¹⁰

However incredible such a grace may seem, it is, nevertheless, attested and described by St. Denis himself with a precision and a fulness which have never been surpassed: "There are among us," he says, "spirits called to a like grace, as far as it is possible for man to resemble the angel; they are those who, by the cessation of all intellectual operation, enter into the ineffable light. Now they speak of God only with negation, and this is highly fitting; for in these sweet communications with Him they are supernaturally enlightened concerning this truth, namely, that God is the cause of everything that is, but is nothing of all that is, so greatly does His Being surpass every being."¹¹

And elsewhere he says: "There is a still more perfect knowledge of God which results from a sublime ignorance, and is accomplished in virtue of an incomprehensible union, it is when the soul, leaving all things and forgetting herself, is plunged into the floods of divine glory, and gains light amid the splendid abysses of unfathomable wisdom."¹²

The admirable St. Augustine, in his "Confessions," owns that the Lord in His merciful goodness raised him to these high regions: "Sometimes, O Lord, Thou admittedst me to an affection very unusual in my inmost soul, rising to a strange sweetness, which if it were perfected in me I know not what in it would not belong to the life to come. But through my miserable encumbrances I sink down again into these lower things.”¹³

St. Gregory is not less sublime than the Bishop of Hippo when he says: “God, in some sort, makes Himself seen by a soul that breathes only for Him, without, however, being known as He is. He makes Himself heard in the depths of the heart, without being heard by the ear. He pours Himself into the bosom, without going forth out of Himself. He lets Himself be touched, though He is without a body. He abides with the soul and in her without occupying any place. But if a soul keeps far from her mind all thought of earthly things, in order to love God only, she feels some spark of that divine fire, and perceives some ray of that divine splendour; or if she does not comprehend His excellence and what God is in Himself, she knows at least what He is not. For she perceives that He is above every essence. A soul that in this state contemplates the Divinity, is ravished in admiration, and so many wonderful things are shown to her that they infinitely surpass all that the mind of man can understand.”¹⁴

No state then seems to have been more fully recognised by the Fathers than that of the perfect union which is achieved in the highest contemplation; and in reading their writings we cannot help remarking the simplicity with which they treat of it. They acknowledge its sublimity, describe its marks, encourage the tending to it, seem to think it frequent, and simply look upon it as the full development of the Christian life. By their vast faith and depth of doctrine they seem to have kept the people of their day free from those personal pretensions and that ignorant presumption which have since engendered so many errors and obliged spiritual writers, when treating of these matters, to speak with great reserve. While we are in our present condition as wayfarers, there are certainly snares on all sides, and the spiritual life has its perils; but by dint of showing only the snares, the ambushes and the pitfalls, souls are kept at a distance who would have risen very high, and would have rendered great glory to God, while perhaps the opposite reflection is lost sight of, namely, that pusillanimity has its dangers as well as presumption.

This little digression must not make us overlook an apparent contradiction in the language of all authors who have spoken of supreme union. While some, like St. Denis, call contemplation infused knowledge, radium tenebrarum, divina caligo, "a ray of night, a divine darkness," or again, sublime ignorance and negative contemplation; others speak of the wonderful lights which the soul receives therein, of an intellectual vision of the august mystery of the Trinity which is given to her, a vision which in some sense is almost permanent. But between these two ways of speaking there is no real difference; they simply show the poverty of human language. In point of fact, all these expressions which speak of darkness or ignorance simply indicate that as God communicates Himself to the created intelligence without any symbol or image, but by a special light which is not yet the Light of Glory, the understanding at least sees that He is invisible and incomprehensible, a condition which is very far removed from that of seeing nothing of God. St. Bonaventure lays down precisely this ascending: "The first degree is to forsake every sensible thing; the second, to forsake every intelligible thing; the third, to enter into the cloud where God dwells.¹⁵

St. Denis, ever inexhaustible on this subject, uses the same language. "We may observe," he says, "that Moses was enjoined first of all to purify himself, and thus to separate himself from the profane; that the purification being completed, he heard the varied sound of trumpets and saw divers fires that opened out into innumerable pure rays; and that finally, leaving the multitude, he ascended to the summit of the mountain accompanied by some chosen priests. Nevertheless he does not yet there enjoy God's familiarity; he contemplates not the Divinity which is invisible, but the place where the Divinity appears. This in my opinion gives us to understand that the most divine and elevated things which we are permitted to see and to know are, in some sort, the symbolic expression of what is contained in the sovereign nature of God; an expression which reveals to us the presence of Him who eludes all thought and who has His throne beyond the heights of heaven. Then, delivered from the world of sense and the world of the intellect, the soul enters into the mysterious obscurity of a holy ignorance, and renouncing all scientific ideas, she loses herself in Him who can neither be seen nor taken hold of, she is given up wholly and entirely to this sovereign object without belonging either to herself or to others; she is united to the Unknown by the most noble portion of herself and by reason of her renunciation of all science; finally, she gains in this sublime ignorance a knowledge which the understanding could never master.¹⁶

This sublime ignorance, of which the incomparable Areopagite speaks, is as it were the characteristic feature of transforming union, and it is frequently indicated in the holy Scriptures. It is symbolized by the veil which Rebecca carefully draws over her when she meets her spouse, and by the mantle with which Elias covers his face in the presence of the Lord. As for Moses, he reminds his people that God's approach on Mount Sinai was marked by mysterious darkness: "And you came to the foot of the mount, which burned even unto heaven; and there was darkness and a cloud and obscurity in it."¹⁷

Again, it is the fulfilment of our Lord's promise in Osee: "I will espouse thee to Me in faith."¹⁸ This is perfect union but in the shadows of faith.

Another figure of this lofty contemplation is given in those passages of the sacred Books in which mention is made of mysterious clouds. In Exodus we read as follows: "And the Lord went before them to show the way, by day in a pillar of a cloud, and by night in a pillar of fire, that He might be the guide of their journey at both times."¹⁹ This divine manifestation producing such different effects represents the double way in which the highest reach of contemplation may be explained; the pillar of a cloud is that ignorance by means of which the very midday of eternal things may be faced; the pillar of light on the contrary shines in a dark place, in caliginoso loco, and gives to all the inferior world a divine splendour which enables us to perceive how it all harmonizes with the superior world.

St. Paul, having to speak of visions and revelations, avows that he had been raised to that point where God shows Himself to be ineffable: "I know a man in Christ .... such an one rapt even to the third heaven. And I know such a man, whether in the body or out of the body I cannot tell, God knoweth: that He was caught into paradise, and heard secret words which it is not granted to man to utter."²⁰ This paradise is no other than the heaven of the soul, where is produced the highest contemplation of which no human language can give any idea. It is very remarkable that having reached the third heaven, which, according to the Fathers, represents intellectual vision, the Apostle does not speak of having SEEN, but rather of having HEARD, as though he would tell us that this high region belongs to faith and not to vision. The following recommendation has reference to this order of ideas; "Whilst we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."²¹

The contemplative, then, in the act of contemplation perceives things eternal, not by way of ordinary vision, but by a real experimental perception. God reveals Himself, and He reveals Himself as He is, that is to say, one and triune. In point of fact, the soul is introduced into perfect union by a most high knowledge of the august and adorable Trinity. Our Lord's word at the Last Supper is fulfilled in all its power and fulness: "We will come to Him, and will make our abode with Him."²² Not only do the three divine Persons manifest their presence in the soul, but they abide there in such sort, though not always with equal brightness, that for the most part the soul feels that she is in this divine company. This is so characteristic a feature of the third degree of the Unitive Life that St. Denis begins his treatise on mystical theology with an invocation to the Holy Trinity, which must be read in the text itself.

Then is realized the deep longing of the Church, when she puts these words into God's mouth as He bends down to the soul: "Come, O my chosen one, and I will place my throne in thee; for the King hath greatly desired thy beauty."²³ God has really established His throne in her, as in a little heaven, for the

Master Himself has said: "Now this is Eternal Life: that they may know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent."²⁴ The soul lives in a close and conscious intimacy with the three divine Persons; for if she is united in a special manner to the Son, who alone is Spouse, the hour has come for her to know the eternal Father also in a deep and mysterious intimacy according to the text: "The hour cometh when I will no more speak to you in proverbs, but will show plainly of the Father. In that day you shall ask in My name: and I say not to you, that I will ask the Father for you: for the Father Himself loveth you."²⁵ The Father and the Son communicate their substantial love to this soul; the Word glories in being the Spouse of the human nature which He has created; the Father who created all things by His Son, makes it His joy to treat the bride of His Son with the tenderness of real paternity; and the Spirit who consummates this sacred union in the soul, causes her to produce fruits worthy of the everlasting Paternity and of union with the Son.

The great Patriarch Abraham, whom the sacred Scripture brings before us as raised to close familiarity with God, had this revelation of the august Trinity, when he received the Lord under the form of three Angels, whom he worshipped as only one; and this example is not a solitary one in the Old Testament, though truths, and especially the mystery of the adorable and ever peaceful Trinity, were then still enveloped in shadows. This is not to be wondered at: God condescending from those times to raise some chosen souls into higher regions, and unveiling Himself to these souls, taught them to know Him such as He is, one in essence and three in Person.

The New Testament, which according to the divine plan was to make this sublime knowledge; of God universal, contains the recital of manifestations still more explicit. At our Lord's Baptism, for instance, this manifestation is made in a sensible manner. But in our present state, that is as wayfarers, in via, the highest stage of contemplation is nowhere more visibly portrayed than in the mystery of the Transfiguration. We might say that in this mystery our divine Saviour had wished to give us a complete picture of the state we are endeavouring to describe. First, the apostles see our Lord in bodily vision as they ascend the mountain; then the glory of the Word shines forth upon His Humanity as in a most noble imaginary vision. Moses and Elias represent the two elements which have upheld the soul so far in the way—the law of the divine precepts, and the direct illuminations of prophecy. Peter then thinks that no farther advance can be made, and that they must stay there; but God determines to introduce His chosen ones into a still deeper manifestation of Himself: "And as he was yet speaking, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them. And lo! a voice out of the cloud saying: This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him."²⁶ The cloud by its luminous brightness leads them into the divine darkness which hides the sensible vision and even the splendour of the Humanity of the Lord Jesus; then it is that the awful mystery of the Holy Trinity unveils itself to them and each of the three divine Persons, giving to the apostles a magnificent testimony, they lose their clear sight of all the rest.

The same luminous cloud again hides the Lord Jesus at the moment of His triumphant Ascension: "And when He had said these things, while they looked on, He was raised up: and a cloud received Him out of their sight.”²⁷ The apostles being thus invited henceforth to seek God in that cloud, which ten days later was to put them in possession of all the splendid gifts which their divine Master had promised and obtained for them. The perfect bride, which is the Church as well as the soul, can say then: “I sat down under His shadow, whom I desired.”²⁸ The shadow of Eternal Truth is the Holy Spirit who, in an ineffable manner, unites the soul to her well-Beloved; and as the shadow always reproduces the reality from which it proceeds, so the divine Spirit can impress, on the soul of the bride, only the likeness of Him who is “the image of God and the figure of His substance.”²⁹ Sometimes the work of this divine Spirit has gone so far as to engrave a physical resemblance with the divine type as in the case of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Catharine of Siena and others.

It is in the light of this sublime teaching that we must gather the Church's meaning in certain of her liturgical rites, such as the giving of the ring to consecrated virgins: “Desponso te—I espouse thee to Jesus Christ the Son of the eternal Father. . . . Receive, therefore, the ring of faithful love, the seal of the Holy Spirit, that thou mayest be called the Spouse of God.”³⁰ In like manner among the rites of monastic profession, the most ancient and general one is solemn prayer in the triple invocation of the divine Persons. The Acts of the Martyrs give ample testimony to the fact that in souls closely united to God the characteristics of transforming union have always been the same. The glorious virgin Cecilia, having finished her course and ended her mysterious three days delay, stepped forth upon the shores of eternity, but in that last act she left as a seal upon her mortal remains the sign of her faith in the august Trinity, and that sign now remains after the lapse of so many years, ever bearing witness to the secrets hidden in the heart of that virgin, martyr and apostle, whose privilege it was, by her ardent words, to bring so many souls to the saving waters of Baptism in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.

The great Doctor St. Hilary, commenting on Psalm cxviii, verse 32, says: "I have run the way of Thy commandments, when Thou didst enlarge my heart:" that heart is dilated which through faith is thrown open and made capable of receiving the teaching of God. This also is said of those who believe: "And I will dwell in them and walk in them." Therefore that heart is dilated in which the mystery of the Father and of the Son abides; in which the Holy Spirit takes delight by reason of the spaciousness of the dwelling."³¹

In the fourteenth century Denis the Carthusian uses the same language: "Then genuinely, sweetly and with the keenness of a purified mind wilt thou contemplate the things of faith and the grounds whereon they claim to be believed; moreover, thou wilt in a godlike manner calmly and continuously behold the more than glorious glory of the Trinity, the divine emanation and communication within God, the mutual insight, the love, the fruition, the eternal expression of God's being in three Persons supereminently lovely, supereminently happy and supereminently holy. Then, in comparison with the infinite and illimitable God, every creature will be to thee mean and narrow; and then too wilt thou find only in thy own God thy one consolation and one affection.”³² The same author likewise says that God now keeps nothing hidden from the soul, she becomes the confidant of all His divine secrets. Since she has generously renounced all things, even all intellectual enjoyment, God makes it up to her by communicating Himself in all His fulness: “Because I have not known learning, I will enter into the powers of the Lord.”³³

Cassian also gives several interesting evidences of the form which prayer takes in the state of transforming union: “The fourth kind of prayer befits those who have eradicated from their hearts whatsoever can wound the conscience, and who contemplate in the peace and purity of their soul the mercies which God has bestowed upon them in times past, and which he is still bestowing upon them at the present moment, or the good things which He is preparing for them in the future, and then, with flaming hearts they pour forth that ardent prayer which neither thought can conceive, nor tongue express. The soul which has attained this degree of purity and is deeply rooted in it does not, however, neglect the other kinds of prayer; she frequently goes from one to the other like a rapid flame; she offers to God ineffable prayers which the Holy Spirit secretly vivifies with ineffable groanings, and she conceives so many things at one and the same time that she could not at any other moment express them nor even rehearse them in her memory.”³⁴

Elsewhere the venerable author gives some other features not less characteristic: “He who reaches this state, possesses together with simplicity and innocence, the virtue of discretion; he can exterminate the most venomous serpents and trample Satan under his feet. Like unto a spiritual heart by the fervour of his soul, he feeds upon the high mountains of the prophets and the apostles, and satiates himself with their highest mysteries. Strengthened by this heavenly food he becomes so penetrated with the sentiments expressed in the Psalms that he seems no longer to recite them from memory, but rather to compose them himself, as a prayer flowing from the depth of his own heart; or at least it will seem that they were made especially for himself.”³⁵

It was of this high prayer that Saint Antony spoke, as Cassian again declares: “This holy man,” he relates, “said this superhuman and heavenly word concerning prayer, namely, that there is no perfect prayer if a religious whilst at prayer knows and perceives himself to be praying.”³⁶ This means that the soul, being altogether taken up with her divine object, makes no reflection whatever upon herself, as St. Francis of Sales so delicately expresses it: “For if God deigns to give the sacred repose of His presence, they voluntarily forsake it to note their own behaviour therein and to examine whether they are really in content, disquieting themselves to discern whether their tranquillity is really tranquil and their quietude really quiet so that, instead of sweetly occupying their will in tasting the sweets of the divine presence, they employ their understanding in reasoning upon the feelings they have; as a bride who should keep her attention on her weddingring without looking at the bridegroom who gave it to her.”³⁷ Such weaknesses as these belong not to this high region, and Bossuet was correct when his great genius made him say: “It seems that this prayer, by its great simplicity, is less perceived in itself than in its effects.”³⁸

St. Gregory of Nyssa says that in consummated union, the soul passes into God—migrat in Deum—is mingled with God—per mixta et contemperata.

St. Gregory Nazianzen uses the same expression, purissimæ luci commisceri. St. Odo of Cluny calls this union “the sweet murmur of the word said in secret.” Cassian considers that in this union the soul becomes so refined and spiritualized that henceforth he calls her simply attenuata mens, so little of self now remains in her.

The great prophetess St. Hildegard, in her inimitable style, has traced the portrait of her own soul, and she thus throws strong light upon the marvellous things which God can accomplish in a human being who is perfectly docile to His grace. In this portrait it is easy to recognise the gift of infused contemplation, both as to what in it may be stable and what is necessarily transient. The glorious daughter of St. Benedict thus speaks: “Since my infancy, before my bones and my nerves and my veins were strengthened, until this present time, when I am more than seventy years of age, I see this vision constantly in my soul. According to the good pleasure of God, my soul at one time ascends into the heights of heaven and into the divers regions of the air; at another she walks amidst different peoples though they dwell in distant regions and unknown places. And because in my soul I see things after this manner, I also contemplate them according to the various changes of the clouds and of other creatures. These things I do not hear with my ears, nor perceive by the thoughts of my heart, nor by the combined action of my live senses; I see them only in my soul, and the eyes of my body remain open, for I have never suffered the fainting away of ecstasy; I see them when awake by day and by night. Frequently I am motionless through infirmities, very frequently I have been pressed down with such grievous maladies that my death seemed imminent; but God has sustained me to this day.

"The light which I see is not local, but it is infinitely more brilliant than the cloud which envelops the sun. In this light I cannot contemplate height nor length nor depth; I see that this light is called the shadow of the living light. Just as the sun, moon and stars are reflected in the waters, so in this light, writings, discourses, virtues and certain human acts clothed in forms, shine before me.

"I preserve for a long time the remembrance of all that I have either seen or learnt in this vision; and I remember at what time I either heard or saw. Simultaneously I see, I hear, I know, and in an instant I learn what I know, what I see not in this light, that I know not, for I am not learned. I have only just learned how to read. What I write in vision, I see and hear; I repeat no other words than those that I hear; I express in Latin words devoid of elegance, what I have perceived in the vision. To write as the philosophers write I am not taught in this vision; the words of the vision are not like those spoken by the lips of men; they are like a bright flame, like a light cloud balancing itself in pure air.

"It is no more possible for me to know the form of this light than to penetrate perfectly the sphere of the sun. In this light from time to time, and not often, I see another light, which I understand as the living light. I cannot say when and how I see it; but while I contemplate it, all sadness, all anguish is taken away from me, so much so, that putting off the ways of the old woman I then assume those of a simple young maiden.

"But on account of the continual infirmities I suffer, it is very fatiguing for me to express the words and visions that are shown to me. When however my soul sees them, I am in the enjoyment of them, so changed that, as I have just said, I forget all suffering and tribulation. What I see and hear in this vision my soul draws, as it were, from a fountain which always remains full and is never exhausted.

"Thus my soul never fails to have this light which I have described above as the shadow of the living light, and I see it as I behold a starless sky through a light cloud. It is in this light that I frequently see what I must say, and what I must answer to those who interrogate me concerning the splendour of the said living light."

Then the great contemplative sums up what happens to her from so continual and sublime a state: "I completely forget myself, both as to soul and as to body; I count myself for nothing; I turn myself to the living God, I leave all these things to Him, that He who has neither beginning nor end may deign in all things to keep me from evil. And thou who dost seek my words, together with all those who in faith desire to hear them, pray for me that I may persevere in the service of God."³⁹

While making allowance for the special gifts wherewith the soul of St. Hildegard was adorned, and for the marvellous fulness that was bestowed upon her, we find in these pages a perfect description of the state of supreme union, both as to what in it is stable and as to what is transient. Moreover in another passage of the same letter, the holy prophetess clearly indicates the way whereby these heights are attained: "Those who in the ascent of their soul," she says, "have drawn their wisdom from God and have counted themselves as nothing, those have become pillars of the heavens."

We should leave our work very imperfect were we not to add that the complete development of the gift of wisdom corresponds absolutely with all that can be said on perfect union, just as the gift of understanding seems to be more manifest in ecstatic union. Our sacred Books contain most exact descriptions of this; among others, we will choose the prayer of thanksgiving of Jesus the son of Sirach: "I will give glory to Thee, O Lord, O King, and I will praise Thee, O God my Saviour. ... When I was yet young, before I wandered about, I sought for wisdom openly in my prayer. I prayed for her before the temple, and unto the very end I will seek after her; and she flourished [in me] as a grape soon ripe, [that is to say, before the day of eternity]; my heart delighted in her. ... To Him that giveth me wisdom I will give glory. ... My entrails were troubled in seeking her [i.e., in the trials of which we have spoken], therefore shall I possess a good possession."⁴⁰

Thus spoke a prophet who had reached the apogee of the spiritual life, and who was experiencing within himself in full splendour all that the gift of wisdom establishes in the heart of man. This it is that gives complete satiety to the creature thus favoured; so that most often things that trouble other souls can in no wise move her. The whole life is transformed, it belongs to God, it is spent for God; the soul assumes "angelic manners," to quote the beautiful expression of the Church in many legends of the saints: this is a very comprehensive expression which we must take heed not to interpret in the limited sense of one particular virtue. It is with this wide meaning that we must understand it in the eulogy of the glorious Patriarch of monks: "The man of God, Benedict, was placid in countenance and adorned with angelic manners; and so great brightness shone round about him, that while still on earth he dwelt in heaven.”⁴¹

All this beautiful ordering of life comes from the gift of wisdom which creates in the soul the tranquillity of order. St. Augustine did not fail to observe this mutual relation, and he thus speaks of it: “Wisdom befits the peaceable in whom all things are well-ordered, and in whom moreover no movement arises contrary to reason, but everything is subject to the spirit of man, and man himself is subject to God. It is of these that our Lord is speaking when He says: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.”⁴² Not without reason does the holy Doctor apply to supreme union the beatitude of the peacemakers, for in point of fact it is not only patience in adverse things that is then practised, but peace; it is not only virtue that reigns in these souls, but beatitude.

The property of this state then is to establish the soul in peace. Our Lord seems to have accomplished His promise in her: “Behold I will bring upon her as it were a river of peace,”⁴³ and to have realized that aspiration of the soul: “Lord, Thou wilt give us peace, for Thou hast wrought all our works for us.”⁴⁴ Then is fully verified that saying of the bride in the Canticles: “I am become in His presence as one finding peace.”⁴⁵

The bride of the peaceful king has, by her union with Him, herself become pacifica, for she has treasured up and put into action that word of her divine Spouse: “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you,”⁴⁶ which is thus commented upon by

St. Denis: "But what might not be said of that peace which was given to us in the charity of Jesus Christ? For by it we have learnt no longer to be at war with ourselves, with our brethren, with the holy angels; but, on the contrary, in their society and according to the measure of our strength, to produce divine works under the impulse of Jesus who operates all in all, creates in us an ineffable peace predestined from all eternity, and reconciles us with Himself in the Spirit and in Himself and by Himself with the Father."⁴⁷

Yes, this ineffable peace, which thus takes possession of the human soul, at the same time establishes therein a solemn silence and a marvellous and tranquil activity; it is what St. Paul wished to the Philippians when he said: "And the peace of God, which surpasseth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."⁴⁸ It evidently goes beyond the sensitive part of the soul, though it restrains and rules it, in order to take possession of the higher faculties, the intellect and will, which it maintains in order and equilibrium. "Thou touchedst me," says St. Augustine, "and I burned for Thy peace."⁴⁹ This peace is the fruit of a certain solidity in good which the soul obtains only in the state of transformation into God. It is the well-ordered form of perfect charity, and supposes in the soul possessing it an admirable and habitual subordination, which places her among the truly obedient. This is the course of St. Benedict when leading his disciples to holiness: "That by the labour of obedience thou mayest return to Him from whom, by the sloth of disobedience, thou hadst departed."⁵⁰ But the holy patriarch himself is only imitating the most glorious models, for our Lord Jesus Christ coming into the world, "taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men,"⁵¹ did not content Himself with this form of a servant, but made Himself "obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross."⁵² As to the Queen of angels and of men, she called herself the "handmaiden," so fully had she established herself in the plenitude of subjection towards God, and disengaged her liberty from all that could be an obstacle to the perfection of our Lord's reign in her. After this why should we be astonished that noble souls, such as St. Agatha, disdained all greatness and all titles in order to lay claim only to this one: "I am the handmaiden of Christ, therefore I act as a servant."⁵³ Such is the true liberty which the Holy Spirit produces; for "where the Spirit of the Lord is there is liberty."⁵⁴

It is certain that in perfect union, the soul has a very great facility in doing what is right, and that, by reason of a supernatural light and strength, she habitually in an heroic degree practises the virtues. This form of union with God corresponds to the perfect age of Christ, and to the fulness of His years as far as it is possible to attain such perfection here on earth; the soul is then in a state to yield supernaturally what in the fulness of his strength, life and fruitfulness, might be expected from man here below. When she has arrived at this point, there is established in the soul a just discernment of what is most perfect; it is what our Fathers called discretion, the mother of all virtues. Then, and then only, the soul knows both what is most perfect in itself, and what is most perfect for her; in this consists true discernment. Then she can offer herself to

God in the way that the Church in her legends relates of St. Teresa and of several other saints: "She made that most difficult of vows—to do always what she understood to be the most perfect."⁵⁵ Such a vow cannot be prudently made except in a state in which it can be accomplished with a kind of facility, and on condition that it rests on a well-tried basis, for which mere good will cannot be a substitute; for neither a spiritual edifice nor a material one is built by beginning at the top.

On this subject the teaching of Dom Gueranger, which we several times heard from his lips, was as follows: "It is rare that the soul consents generously to the total death of nature, and as a refusal on one single point is enough to make God withdraw, this, in part, explains why so few attain perfection. And yet it is only when perfection is attained that souls can think of vowing to do always what is the most perfect. Hence, in the canonization of saints, the Church makes a special examination of those vows which may give evidence of presumption and imprudence in the persons who have made them. On the contrary, when made by souls who are in a fit state to offer them to God, they add new lustre to their holiness."

In these high regions the most heroic virtue has nothing forced or strained; it bears out the portrait of charity as traced to the Corinthians by St. Paul: "Charity is patient, is kind, charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely, is not puffed up, is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never falleth away.”⁵⁶ Arrived at this perfect fulness, it resembles the beautiful gilded garment of the bride, “surrounded with variety”; since far from absorbing everything into itself, as false mystics say, charity upholds, enhances, brings out, ennobles the other virtues like a rich and brilliant groundwork.

Nevertheless, although consummate union is always accompanied by this perfect charity, it is well to say that the soul cannot completely escape venial sin. This privilege is reserved for the union of heaven, and we give the reason of this in the distinction which it is important to establish between the state resulting from contemplation, and the act itself of perfect contemplation.

“Here on earth,” says St. Thomas, “the last perfection of men, as far as they are capable of it, is the operation which unites them to God. But this operation cannot be continual; the weakness of our human nature obliges it to be frequently interrupted, and we are as far from perfect beatitude as we are from the unity and continuity of this act. Only in heaven will the operation which will make us blessed be simple, continuous and eternal, like that of the angels. The participation that man here on earth can have in this beatitude is by so much the greater, as it is more simple and more continuous, and as it is found in the most simple and most continuous operation of the contemplative life, which is contemplation.”⁵⁷

Thus then contemplation is an act and not a habit. There can be no doubt that so long as the soul perseveres in the act of perfect contemplation she cannot offend her divine Spouse; but outside that she cannot be so united to God and so vigilant over herself that some imperfections will not manifest themselves in her. Nevertheless, in spite of this frailty, it is certain that from the perfect, though not continuous act of contemplation, there follows a certain stable and permanent union. The soul saturated with light and love is unceasingly drawn towards the infinite Good, and, according to the teaching of St. Thomas, the soul which has once received the light of prophecy preserves a kind of aptitude for again being enlightened by it.

From all that has been said we may conclude that the whole perfection of the soul that is admitted to the transforming union consists in returning, as far as she is free to do so, and as far as she can do so, to the refined and spiritual simplicity of perfect contemplation. Generally speaking it seems she is able to do so, as if the door of the centre of the soul having been once opened, it were never again to be closed. Nevertheless, God always remains free to bestow lesser favours, a freedom which can be explained only by the non-continuity of perfect contemplation. Thus, although ecstasy does not exist in the state of which we are speaking, because there is neither a going forth of the soul nor a suspension of the senses, God can always, by the splendour of a new light, suspend the understanding, and by the ardour of a greater love, suspend the will, and thus bring back the soul either to the kind of excess of ecstatic union, or to even less elevated favours. The change is not made in habitual union, but in the act of perfect contemplation which God interrupts to give the soul some other favour. We find in the holy Scriptures very striking examples of the non-continuity of the act of perfect contemplation, and at the same time of the ineffaceable graces of stable union which it leaves in man.

Moses one day said to the Lord: "Show me Thy glory." He answered: "I will show thee all good, and I will proclaim in the name of the Lord before thee: and I will have mercy on whom I will, and I will be merciful to whom it shall please Me." And again He said: "Thou canst not see My face; for man shall not see Me and live." And again He said: "Behold, there is a place with Me, and thou shalt stand upon the rock. And when My glory shall pass, I will set thee in a hole of the rock, and protect thee with My right hand, till I pass; and I will take away My hand, and thou shalt see My back parts, but My face thou canst not see."⁵⁸

Every point is touched upon in this sublime passage: the liberty of God in the matter of extraordinary favours, the successive manifestation of divine things, the principle of all supernatural knowledge here in this world, namely, the light of faith; finally, the obscurity of the meeting with God caused by the divine Hand, that is to say, by the Spirit overshadowing and hovering above.

While we here see contemplation as intermittent, the lasting union of Moses with God is symbolized by the rays which surrounded the prophet's head: "And when Moses came down from the Mount Sinai, he held the two tables of the testimony, and he knew not that his face was horned from the conversation of the Lord."⁵⁹ This indelible mark, the brightness of which St. Paul reproached the Jews with not being able to endure, was most certainly the splendour radiating from God residing in the soul of this sublime contemplative.

All that we have said concerning what is permanent and what is intermittent in the state of perfect union will help us to determine the form which suffering takes in this state. As long as the act of contemplation lasts, suffering is scarcely possible, since contemplation is a participation of beatitude; but it claims its rights when the soul returns to herself, and when, without leaving the state of union, the act of contemplation is interrupted. There can be no doubt that, in spite of her love of suffering, which love has now become extremely keen, the soul thus united to God ought to strive nevertheless to tend ever to contemplation as to her most perfect act, in order to lend herself to those sufferings only which are expressly willed by God, sufferings which may be very acute, but which generally last only a short time and are of a special kind. Such were the sufferings of our Lord Jesus Christ and of our Lady. They are precious sufferings forming, as it were, a new ransom for the world, and they are of such a mysterious nature that it is difficult to make them understood by those who have had no experience of them.

It will perhaps be useful to say a few words here on the sufferings of a soul that has attained transforming union, were it only to convince those who have not yet reached that state, which is near to the beatitude of heaven, that in it suffering assumes proportions unknown in the other phases of the spiritual life. This is a truth which we must treasure, in order to convince ourselves that beatitude is never a falling back of the creature upon herself, but always a greater self-abnegation and a more complete contempt of her own personality. Divine love enters the soul in proportion as self-love disappears; when divine love has gained a complete victory, the soul can find in self none of that rest which carnal men think to be true happiness. Beatitude is the act whereby the soul of man is united to God; the more this operation becomes in us unified and continuous here on earth, the nearer do we approach the essence of beatitude.

From this teaching it follows that a soul solidly established in supreme union cannot suffer in the way that other souls suffer. Her suffering has no external cause; all comes directly from God, who permits her to be struck and wounded, as God the Father willed that the human nature of His Son should be tortured for the salvation of the world. The more perfect any being is, the more intense and keen does its suffering become, because all suffering springs from some disorder which is repugnant to this being in proportion to its perfection.

Another source of extreme torture is a certain contrast, of which we will now speak. It ordinarily happens that God maintains in the depths of the soul, even in the most intense physical or moral anguish, the sense of union, together with the silence and peace resulting from it. Nothing distracts her; she can taste the suffering in all its purity. The sword pierces the soul in its most sensitive part—the soul now perfectly purified and spiritualized, whose operations are of an exceedingly delicate nature. While piercing deeply, it reaches the centre where God resides and where no suffering can enter, and the effect is as if a sharp sword penetrating the heart were to meet in the midst with some powerfully active substance, which should dissolve the steel. In vain would the blade advance farther; its painful action would cease at that fixed point without being able to go beyond. Thus in the same soul there coexist the most piercing anguish and the serenity of heaven; extremes meet, and the contrast they present is an additional pain.

In this elevated region we notice another form of suffering. The truly spiritualized soul does not seem to be exposed there to temptation properly so called; but God permits that she should strive with the devil, spirit against spirit without the demon seeking to use any intermedium, although he profits by everything, even by physical infirmities, to subdue the soul.

This is indeed a singular combat “in the high places”;⁶⁰ God takes pleasure in conquering and humbling the wicked angels by means of His servants.

The contact of the demon is then perceived as it were on the surface of the soul, under the form of a burning at once spiritual and sensible, caused by the proximity of a fiery spirit. If the soul is strong and perseveres in her union with God, the pain, although very acute, is bearable; but if she commits some slight imperfection, though purely interior, the demon advances accordingly and introduces his horrible burning farther into the soul, until by generous acts the soul is able to drive him back to the surface. We can easily imagine how repulsive to a holy soul is this contact with the unclean spirit, but happily that contact never endures for any length of time.

We think that to this kind of obsession, or “wrestling,” belong certain struggles described in the lives of the great saints, who evidently had reached supreme union, and whose sufferings could not be attributed to the passive purifications which precede this state. Thus we see St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi spending the last five years of her earthly pilgrimage in a fierce struggle, very different from the trials she had undergone before, and God heard in this manner the favourite prayer of His generous bride: “To suffer, not to die—Pati, non mori.”

That which these souls, so divested of themselves desire, as long as God wishes to leave them in this world, is to suffer, to labour and to combat for His glory. At times there strikes for them the hour of the “prince of darkness,”⁶¹ who has been named “the prince of this world.” They long to hurl him back again into the abyss and to retard the victory of the beast, as St. John says, and the servile adoration of the infernal dragon, who is to reign by fear. For such combatants do indeed retard the terrible hour of which it is written: "And it was given unto him to make war with the saints, and to overcome them."⁶²

But if this high state frequently entails combats such as these, the soul almost always enjoys in them, though in very different degrees, certain privileges such as intimacy with the holy angels. It is scarcely necessary to say that her prayer has very great power over the demons, especially over those which cannot be cast out, as our Lord says, except by prayer and fasting. In point of fact, the Gospel clearly teaches us that the general power of casting out devils, conferred upon the apostles, was insufficient against this order of infernal spirits.

It is true also that in this state the soul, by virtue of her union with God, has within herself great force of intercession, for she asks only for what is in accordance with God's will. She fully justifies that sentence of the Apostle: "Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmity. For we know not what we should pray for as we ought; but the Spirit Himself asketh for us with unspeakable groanings. And He that searcheth the hearts knoweth what the Spirit desireth, because He asketh for the saints according to God."⁶³

St. James the Less quotes as an example the admirable Prophet Elias, who had so evidently attained the summit of the spiritual life: "Elias was a man passible like unto us; and with prayer he prayed that it might not rain upon the earth, and it rained not for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain.”⁶⁴ In another circumstance the mere word of the prophet brings down upon the guilty fire from heaven, and his touch raises the dead.

This power of intercession is also due, no doubt, to the way it is exercised, a way very different from all the processes used in the less elevated regions of the spiritual life. Heretofore when the soul petitioned, she insisted with vehemence, and exhausted herself in this petition—a proceeding which in some sort uprooted her—whereas now she makes her intercession on her own ground, so to speak, because when she enters within her own soul, she no longer, as heretofore, finds herself, but the divine Majesty, she no longer sees herself, except as the temple of God. In the Divine Office, for instance, each prayer of the Church finds an echo in this sanctuary, not in a startling way like a passing flash of lightning, but in the great and calm light which abides, and which fills the soul almost without her perceiving that she enjoys it, just as in the physical order we perceive objects without thinking each time of the light which enables us to see them. It is no doubt this abiding within, and this freedom from violence that render the operation of the soul not only more powerful, but also more active and more continuous.

Sometimes there is produced a still more powerful kind of prayer; it is when the soul works without intercession and simply in virtue of her union with God—her words, her very acts are then invested with a special power. Thus the word of the Prince of the Apostles caused the death of Ananias and Saphira, and his mere shadow healed the sick. In like manner the glorious Patriarch Benedict by a simple look unloosed the fetters of the poor peasant who was unjustly bound—an act which caused St. Gregory to say: "This is that, Peter, which I told you, that those who in a familiar sort serve God, do sometimes, by a certain power and authority bestowed upon them, work miracles."⁶⁵

The same holy Doctor observes, however, that this power is limited, as also is the knowledge of divine secrets, and with admirable delicacy he gives the reason of this: "For all such as do devoutly follow our Lord be also by devotion one with our Lord; and yet for all this, in that they are laden with the burden of their corruptible flesh, they be not with God; and so, in that they be joined with Him, they know the secret judgments of God; and in that they be separated from God, they know them not."⁶⁶

We should never weary of drawing from this life of a contemplative written by a contemplative. We will further observe how God multiplies the action of His servants when they are closely united to Him, by permitting them to work at a distance: "If then Habacuc could in a moment, with his body, go so far and carry provision for another man's dinner; what marvel is it if the holy Father Bennet obtained grace to go in spirit, and to inform the souls of his sleeping brethren concerning such things as were necessary, and that as Habacuc about corporal meat went corporally, so Bennet should go spiritually about the despatch of spiritual business?”⁶⁷

God, seeing that this soul now breathes but for His glory and the service of her neighbour, increases her powers, her aptitudes and her means. It is difficult to say what is the depth of compassion, what the unbounded devotedness, what the ardent zeal of a soul thus united to God and transformed into Him. Clement of Alexandria seems to have known these its excellencies when he thus describes the gnostic or true contemplative.

"He is no longer subject to passions, except to those that have for their object the maintenance of the body, such as hunger and thirst. He has mastered all those that could trouble the soul, such as anger and fear, and through a steady condition of mind that changes not a whit, he does not admit even those that seem good, such as courage, zeal, joy and desire. He has no want as far as respects his soul, now that he associates through love with the Beloved One. . . . For, on the part of him who loves, love is not a desire taut a relation of affection of the soul with her sovereign Good, whom she embraces without distinction of time or of place; and being already in the midst of that in which she is destined to be, and having anticipated hope by knowledge, she does not desire anything, having as far as possible the very thing desired."

"The contemplative honours God not in the specified places nor on certain festivals nor on appointed days, but during his whole life and in every place. . . . His application to prayer and to divine things renders him meek, affable, patient. . . . He reads the holy Scriptures . . . he sings hymns and psalms . . . he prolongs his prayer during the night hours . . . he does not use wordy prayers by the mouth. . . . In every place, but not ostensibly to the multitude, he will pray, but whilst engaged in walking, in conversation, while in silence, while occupied in reading and in works according to reason, he in every mood prays. . . . He continually praises God, and unceasingly glorifies Him like the Seraphim of Isaias. The dignity of the contemplative (gnostic) increases when he is charged with the government of others, and with procuring for them by instruction, the first and highest good, which is God.”⁶⁸

This fulness of union with God was the portion of all the patriarchs, of apostles and of all those who by their holiness have exercised a widespread influence on earth. Nevertheless, among the souls that attain to this high region, the degrees of sanctity are very varied as well as the gifts. In this vast world of perfect charity, God is prodigal of His favours to all, but according to the measure of His good-pleasure; and the soul, on her side, is capable of immense growth in holiness. That which seems the highest reach and term is often in reality but a new beginning.

For the interests of holy Church and the glory of God, it is more important than we are able to say that truly contemplative souls should be multiplied upon the earth. They are the hidden spring, the moving principle of everything that is for the glory of God, for the kingdom of His Son, and for the perfect fulfilment of His Divine Will.

Vain would it be to multiply active works and contrivances, yea, and even deeds of sacrifice; all will be fruitless if the Church Militant have not her saints to uphold her. Martha's works were all directed to our Lord Jesus Christ, but they did not suffice because they were not the “one thing necessary.” Neither do the saints in heaven suffice to draw down the divine blessing upon this valley of tears; there must be some saints remaining still as wayfarers (in via), which is the state in which the Master chose to redeem the world. Our Lady herself would survive her beloved Son in order to sustain and pray for the Church. How could she have chosen that long martyrdom of fifteen years, unless she had seen in the divine light that the welfare of the bride of her Son depended upon it? Certain powers and a certain fruitfulness are then inherent to the present life; it has in itself so few charms that it will not have been useless to show, as we have done, that it has also some advantages.

In the latter days, when evils will be so extreme and salvation will be rendered more and more difficult by the fury of Antichrist and his agents, there will be more saints in heaven than in the most prosperous days of our Christian society; and yet the few faithful souls will thus complain: "Save me, O Lord, for there is no saint; truths are decayed from among the children of men."⁶⁹ In an inverse order the increase of holiness upon the earth is a pledge of safety more certain than any other appearance of prosperity.

It is then a duty to promote in ourselves and in others this movement of growth in union with God, animating ourselves with the words and the sentiments of St. Paul: "Now to Him who is able to do all things more abundantly than we desire or understand, according to the power that worketh in us, to Him be glory in the Church, and in Christ Jesus, unto all generations, world without end."⁷⁰

Footnotes

1. Si enim complantati facti sum us similitudini mortis ejus, simul et resurrectionis erirnus. Hoc scientes, quia vetus homo noster simul crucifixus est, ut destruatur corpus peccati, et ultra non serviamus peccato. Qui enim mortuus est, justificatus est a peccato (Rom. vi, 57). ↩

2. Ego veritatem dico vobis: Expedit vobis ut ego vadam: si enim non abiero, Paraclitus non veniet ad vos; si autem abiero, mittam eum ad vos (Joann, xvi, 7). ↩

3. Noli me tangere; nondum enim ascendi ad Patrem meum. Vade autem ad fratres meos, et dic eis: Ascendo ad Patrem meum, et Patrem vestrum, Deum meum, et Deum vestrum (Joann, xx, 17). ↩

4. Notum feci eis nomen tuum, et notum faciam: ut dilectio qua dilexisti me, in ipsis sit et ego in ipsis (Joann. xvii, 26). ↩

5. Ad beatos facta est missio invisibilis in ipso principio beatitudinis (St. Thom., I, quæst. xliii, art. 6). ↩

6. Etiam secundum profectum virtutis, aut augmentum gratiæ fit missio invisibilis (Ibid.) ↩

7. Adfuit ergo in hac die fidelibus suis non jam per gratiam justificationis, sed per ipsam præsentiam majestatis: atque in vasa non jam odor balsami, sed ipsa substantia sacri defluxit unguenti (Serm., 185, de temp.) ↩

8. Nisi et speciali prærogativa intimis illum affectibus atque ipsis medullis cordis cœlitus illapsum suscipiat, habeatque præsto quem desiderat, non figuratum, sed infusum (S. Bern. In Cant. ↩

9. Ex hoc enim quod amor transformet, facit amantem intrare ad interiora amati, et contra; ut nihil amati amanti remaneat non unitum (In III sent. Dist. xxiv, quæst. 1, art ad 4). ↩

10. Visions and Instructions of Blessed Angela of Foligno, liii. ↩

11. Of the Divine Names, i. ↩

12. Ibid., vii. ↩

13. Lib. X, xl. ↩

14. Moral., lib. III, cap. xxiii. ↩

15. Primus est derelinquere omnia sensibilia: secundus omnia intelligibilia, tertius, ingredi caliginem, ubi apparet Deus (Itiner., V, Dist. 6). ↩

16. Myst. Theol. cap. i. ↩

17. Et accessistis ad radices montis, qui ardebat usque ad cœlum: erantque in eo tenebræ et caligo (Deut., iv, 11). ↩

18. Sponsabo te mihi in fide (Osee ii, 20). ↩

19. Dominus præcedebat eos ad ostendendam viam, per diem in columna nubis, et per noctem in columna ignis, ut dux esset itineris utroque tempore (Exod. xiii, 21). ↩

20. Scio hominem in Christo . . . raptum hujusmodi usque ad tertium cœlum. Et scio hujusmodi hominem (sive in corpore, sive extra corpus, nescio Deus scit); quoniam raptus est in Paradisum; et audivit arcana verba, quæ non licet homini loqui (2 Cor. xii, 2-4). ↩

21. Non contemplantibus nobis quæ videntur. Quæ enim videntur, temporalia sunt; quæ autem non videntur, æterna sunt (2 Cor., iv, 18). ↩

22. Ad eum veniemus, et mansionem apud faciemus (Joann. xiv, 23). ↩

23. Veni, electa mea, et ponam in te thronum meum; quia concupivit Rex speciem tuam (In Offic. Virg.) ↩

24. Hæc est vita æterna: ut cognoscant te solum Deum verum et quem misisti, Jesum Christum (Joann., xvii, 3). ↩

25. Venit hora cum jam non in proverbiis loquar vobis, sed palam de Patre annuntiabo vobis. In illo die in nomine meo petetis: et non dico vobis quia ego rogabo Patrem de vobis; ipse enim Pater amat vos (Ibid., xvi, 25-27). ↩

26. Adhuc eo loquente, ecce nubes lucida obumbravit eos. Et ecce vox de nube, dicens: Hic est Filius meus dilectus in quo mihi bene complacui; ipsum audite (Matth., xvii, 5). ↩

27. Et cum hæc dixisset, videntibus illis, elevatus est, et nubes suscepit eum ab oculis eorum (Act., i, 9). ↩

28. Sub umbra illius quem desideraveram sedi (Cant., ii, 3). ↩

29. Imago Dei et figura substantiæ ejus (Heb., i, 3). ↩

30. Desponso te Jesu Christo, Filio summi Patris . . . accipe ergo annulum fidei, signaculum Spiritus sancti, ut sponsa Dei voceris (Ex Rit., Consecrat. Virg. In Pontifical. Rom.) ↩

31. Viam mandatorum tuorum cucurri dilatasti cor meum. Dilatatum est cor, quod per fidem capax doctrinæ Dei panditur. Et hoc de credentibus dictum est: Et inhabitabo et inambulabo in eis. Cor igitur dilatatur, in quo sacramentum Patris et Filii residet; in quo capaci habitatione Spiritus sanctus delectatur (S. Hilar., tract. in Ps., cxviii). ↩

32. Tunc ea quæ fidei sunt, cum rationibus credendorum et purificatæ mentis intelligentia contemplaberis dulciter et sincere, ac supergloriosissimam Trinitatis gloriam, emanationem et communicationem ad intra, mutuam intuitionem, dilectionem, fruitionem, consistentiam æternalem, superdeliciosum, superfelicissimam et supersanctissimam intueberis deiformiter, assidue et serene. Tunc respectu infiniti et incircumscriptibilis Dei erit tibi angusta et modica omnis creatura, in solo quoque Deo tuo erit consolatio omnis et affectio tua (Dionys. Carthus., Flam. Div. Amoris). ↩

33. Quoniam non cognovi litteraturam, introibo in potentias Domini (Ps. lxx, 16). ↩

34. Cassian, Coll. ix, cap. xv. ↩

35. Cassian, Coll., x, cap. Xi. ↩

36. Ibid., xxxi. ↩

37. Treatise on the Love of God, Book VI, chap. x. ↩

38. Inst. sur les Etats d’Oraison, liv. II, 16. ↩

39. Analecta Sacra, tom. VIII, Epist. ii. ↩

40. Confitebor tibi, Domine rex, et collaudabo te Deum Salvatorem meum ... Cum adhuc junior essem, priusquam oberrarem, quæsivi sapientiam palam in oratione mea. Ante eam; et effloruit tamquam præcox uva; lætatum est cor meum in ea. ... Danti mihi sapientiam dabo gloriam. ... Venter meus conturbatus est quærendo illam; propterea bonam posidebo possessionem (Eccli li). ↩

41. Erat vir Domini, Benedictus, vultu placido, moribus decoratus angelicis; tantaque circa eum claritas excreverat ut in terris positus in cœlestibus habitaret (In Offic. S. Benedicti). ↩

42. Serm. Dom. In monte, lib. I, cap. iv. ↩

43. Ego declinabo super eam quasi fluvium pacis (Isa., lxvi, 12). ↩

44. Domine, dabis pacem nobis, omnia enim opera nostra operatus es nobis (Ibid., xxvi, 12). ↩

45. Facta sum coram eo quasi pacem reperiens (Can., viii, 10). ↩

46. Pacem relinquo vobis; pacem meam do vobis (Joann., xiv, 27). ↩

47. Of the Divine Names, xi, n. 5. ↩

48. Et pax Dei quæ exsuperat omnem sensum, custodiat corda vestra, et intelligentias vestras in Christo Jesu (Philip, iv, 7). ↩

49. Tetigisti me, et exarsi in pacem tuam (Conf., lib. X, 27). ↩

50. Ut ad eum per obedientiæ laborem redeas, a quo per in obedientiæ desidiam recesseras (In Prol. S. Reg.) ↩

51. Formam servi accipiens, in similitudinem hominum factus (Philip, ii, 7). ↩

52. Obediens usque ad mortem, mortem autem crucis (Ibid, ii, 8). ↩

53. Ancilla Christi sum; ideo me ostendo servilem habere personam (Ant. 4, I. Noct. in Offic. S. Agathæ, V.M.) ↩

54. Ubi autem Spiritus Domini, ibi libertas (2 Cor., iii, 17). ↩

55. Maxime arduum votum emisit, efficiendi semper quidquid perfectius esse inteligeret. ↩

56. Caritas patiens est, benigna est. Caritas non æmulatur, non agit perperam, non inflatur, non est ambitiosa, non quærit quæ sua sunt, non irritatur, non cogitat malum; non gaudet super iniquitate, congaudet autem veritati; omnia suffert, omnia credit omnia sperat, omnia sustinet. Caritas numquam excidit (1 Cor., xiii, 4-8). ↩

57. I, 2 quæst., 3 art. Ad 4. ↩

58. Ostende mihi gloriam tuam. Respondit: Ego ostendam omne bonum tibi, et vocabo in nomine Domini coram te; et miserebor cui volvero; et clemens ero in quem mihi placuerit. Rursumque ait: non poteris videre faciem meam; non enim videbit me homo, et vivet. Et iterum: Ecce, inquit, est locus apud me, et stabis supra petram; cumque transibit gloria mea, ponam te in foramine petræ, et protegam dextera mea, donec transeam; tollamque manum meam, et videtis posteriora mea: faciem autem meam videre non poteris (Exod., xxxiii, 18-23). ↩

59. Cumque descenderet Myses de monte Sinai, tenebat duas tabulas testimonii, et ignorabat quod cornuta esset facies sua ex consortio sermonis Domini (Exod., xxxiv, 29). ↩

60. Non est nobis collucatio adversus carnem et sanguinem, sed adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiæ in cœlestibus (Eph., vi, 12). ↩

61. Joann, xii, 31. ↩

62. Et datum est illi bellum facere cum sanctis et vincere eos (Apoc. xiii, 7). ↩

63. Similiter autem et Spiritus adjuvat infirmitatem nostram: nam quid oremus, sicut oportet, nescimus; sed ipse Spiritus postulat pro nobis gemitibus inenarrabilibus. Qui autem scrutatur corda, scit quid desideret Spiritus, quia secundum Deum postulat pro sanctis (Rom. viii, 26, 27). ↩

64. Elias homo erat similis nobis passibilis: et oratione oravit ut non plueret super terram, et non pluit annos tres et menses sex: et rursum oravit, et cœlum dedit pluviam (Jac. v, 17). ↩

65. Ecce est, Petre, quod dixi: quia hi qui omnipotenti Deo familiarius serviunt, aliquando mira facere etiam ex potestate possunt (Dialog;., lib. II, cap. xxxi). ↩

66. Omnes enim qui devote Dominum sequuntur, etiam devo tione cum Deo sunt: et adhuc carnis corruptibilis gravati pondere, cum Deo non sunt. Occulta itaque Dei judicia in quantum Deo conjuncti sunt, sciunt: in quantum disjuncti sunt, nesciunt (Dialog., lib. II, cap. xvi). ↩

67. Si igitur tam longe Habacuc potuit sub momento corporaliter ire, et prandium dferre; quid mirum si Benedictus Pater obtinuit, quatenus iret per spiritum, et fratrum quiescentium spiritbus necessaria narraret; ut sicut ille ad cibum corporis corporaliter perrexit, ita iste ad institutionem spiritalis vitæ spiritaliter pergeret? (Ibid., xxii.) ↩

68. Clem. Alexandriæ Stromat., lib. VI, cap. Ix; et lib. VIII, passim. ↩

69. Salvum me fac, Domine, quoniam defecit sanctus; quoniam dimmutæ sunt veritates a filiis hominum (Ps., xi, 1). ↩

70. Et autem qui potens est omnia facere superabundanter quam petimus, aut intelligimus, secundum virtutem quæ operatur in nobis; ipsi gloria in Ecclesia et in Christe Jesu, in omnes generationes sæculi sæculorum. Amen. (Eph., iii, 20, 21). ↩