[The following prose translation is from the third chapter of the work entitled The Mystical Vine, commonly regarded as St. Bernard's. My reason for inserting it here is its remarkable resemblance in thought and expression to Sermon LXI. on the Canticle, and because it is too long to be given as a footnote. To this I have added an English version of the hymn "Summi Regis Cor Aveto," one of those found amongst the writings of the Mellifluous Doctor, as an equally eloquent witness to his love for the Sacred Heart.—Translator.]

ON THE SACRED HEART.

Not content with digging His Hands and Feet, and opening His sacred Side, they pierced with the lance of furious hate that most holy Heart Which had already been wounded long before with the lance of love. "Thou hast wounded My Heart, My sister, My spouse," says the heavenly Bridegroom in the Canticle of love, "Thou hast wounded My Heart." Yes, Lord Jesus, Thy sister, Thy spouse, Thy beloved has wounded Thy Heart. What need, then, that It should be wounded again by Thine enemies? O enemies of Jesus, what are you about? If the Heart of my sweet Master has been wounded already, rather since It has already been wounded, why would you inflict on It another wound? Are you not aware that the human heart loses life and feeling when pierced by a single wound? The Heart of my Lord Jesus is therefore dead, slain by the wound of love. The Heart of Him Who is at once my Lord and the Bridegroom of my soul is possessed and occupied by the death of love. How then has It room for a second death? "Love is strong as death," aye, stronger than death. Hence the first death, which is charity, the death of all evil deaths, cannot be expelled from the heart which it has made its home by the inviolable right of its own proper wound. When enemies meet who are of equal strength, but one happens to be within the house and the other outside, is it not certain that the victory must go to the former? And see how great is the force of charity which not alone in the Heart of Jesus, but also in the hearts of His servants, has obtained dominion and most sweetly inflicted death. Let us contemplate the holy martyrs. See how they smile at terrors! How they rejoice under the lash! They are slain, and behold they triumph! How is this? Because having died the death of charity interiorly in their hearts, they have long been dead to sin, dead to the world; and rendered thus insensible, they can no more be affected by menaces or torments or by any violence. What wonder is this since they have ceased to live? "You are dead," says the Apostle, writing to the Colossians. It is such a death the wisely-foolish Balaam desired for himself, when he prayed, "Let my soul die the death of the just, and my last end be like to them." Happy death which makes us indifferent to death! Happy death which leads to everlasting life! Thus was the Heart of Jesus wounded and slain long ago for our sakes, "when all the day long we were counted as sheep for the slaughter." Corporal death also came upon Him and prevailed awhile, but only to be eternally vanquished. It was vanquished because, "rising from the dead, He dieth now no more, death shall no more have dominion over Him."

But,¹ since we have come to the most sweet Heart of Jesus, and "it is good for us to be here," let us not suffer ourselves to be easily torn away from so holy a Sanctuary, whereof we read, "They that depart from Thee shall be written in the earth." But what of those who draw nigh? Thou hast told us Thyself, O Lord Jesus, for it is to such Thou didst say, "Rejoice, because your names are written in heaven." What then of those who "are written in the earth"? Doubtless, they shall mourn. But who would not wish to rejoice? Who could refuse an invitation like this? Let us therefore approach to Thee and "we will be glad and rejoice in Thee, remembering Thy Heart." Oh, "how good and how pleasant it is to dwell" in the Heart of Jesus! A rich Treasure, a Pearl beyond price, is this Heart of Thine, O good Jesus, which we have found in the digged field of Thy wounded Body. Who would throw away such a Pearl? Nay, rather I will sell my all, I will barter away all the thoughts and affections of my soul in order to acquire It as my possession, casting all my care on the Heart of my Lord Jesus, and without any doubt, It will have care of me. "I will worship towards this holy Temple," this Holy of Holies, this Ark of the Covenant, "and I will praise the name of the Lord," saying with David, "I have found my Heart that I may pray to my God."² Yes, I have found the Heart of my sweet Jesus, my King, my Brother, my Friend. And shall I not pray? Most assuredly I shall. For His Heart is also mine. I affirm it boldly, because Christ is my Head. Therefore, as the eyes of my natural head are my eyes, so is the Heart of my mystical Head my Heart. What happiness for me! I have really one Heart with Jesus! Nor is there anything surprising in this, since we know that in the early Church, "the multitude of believers had but one heart and one soul." Therefore, having found this Heart of mine and Thine, O sweetest Jesus, I will pray to Thee, my God. Only do Thou admit my supplication into the Sanctuary of Thy gracious mercy, yea, draw me entirely into Thy Heart. For although the labyrinthine maze of my sins stands in my way, yet that Heart has been limitlessly dilated and expanded by the force of charity, and Thou alone canst "make him clean that is conceived of unclean seed"; so that freed from the encumbrance of sin, I may be able to pass through the narrow door. O Jesus, beautiful above all in all manner of beauty, "wash me yet more from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin." Thus purified by Thee, I shall be able through Thee to approach to Thy most Holy Presence and deserve to dwell in Thy Heart all the days of my life, having ever the light to know Thy will and the grace to accomplish it. For this was Thy sacred Side opened, that we might have free access to Thy Heart. For this was Thy Heart wounded that in It and in Thee we might dwell in tranquility, secure from the perturbation of external things. For this, too, was Thy Heart wounded, that the visible wound of the lance might reveal to us the invisible wound of love. How couldst Thou better manifest the ardour of Thy divine charity than by permitting Thy Heart to be pierced? Therefore, the carnal wound is but the manifestation of the spiritual. And perhaps it is to signify this that in the verse of the Canticle the words "thou hast wounded Me" are repeated. For she who is at once Thy spouse and Thy sister is represented as the author of both wounds; as if the Bridegroom were to say openly, "Because thou hast wounded Me by the vehemence of thy love, therefore have I been wounded also by the soldier's lance." Had His Heart not been first pierced by love, never surely would He have allowed the steel to invade It. Hence He says, "Thou hast wounded My Heart, My sister, My spouse, thou hast wounded My Heart." But why does He call her both sister and spouse? Would not the title of sister alone or spouse alone be sufficient to express the affection of a loving Bridegroom? And why is she called spouse rather than bride? Is it not as a bride that the Church or the faithful soul is expected to bring forth the daily fruit of good works to Christ, her heavenly Bridegroom? My reply shall be brief. Persons united in wedlock are wont to love each other less ardently than during the period of espousals, when love alone was the link between them. The Divine Bridegroom, then, to show that the greatness of His love suffers no diminution from time, calls His beloved by the name of spouse, His affection for her being ever new. But since earthly spouses are loved according to the flesh, and in the love of Christ there is nothing carnal, He also addresses His spouse under the title of sister, for sisters are loved with a pure affection. He says, therefore, "Thou hast wounded My Heart, My sister, My spouse," which is equivalent to this: "Because I love thee supremely as My spouse, chastely as My sister, therefore for thy sake has My Heart been wounded." Oh, who would not love that Heart so cruelly wounded? Who would not return It love for love? Who would not embrace so pure a Heart? Certainly the spouse loves It, for she is herself wounded for Its sake by an excess of charity. "I am wounded with charity," she exclaims. Is it possible that she who says, "I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, that you tell Him that I languish with love"—is it possible, I repeat, that she does not reciprocate her Bridegroom's affection? And she loves Him with a sisterly love, for she says: "Who shall give Thee to me for my Brother, sucking the breasts of my mother, that I may find Thee without and kiss Thee, and now no man may despise me?" But what does she mean here by "without"? Without the body, very likely. For "while we are in the body, we are absent from the Lord." Who could suffer in patience such an absence, such an exile, embittered as it is by sorrow for the past, labour in the present, fear of the future? And although the grace of consolation is sometimes experienced, when the Bridegroom reveals Himself for a moment, yet He stands afar off, behind the wall, as it were, this body of sin making a division between Him and us; nor does He readily give Himself to be touched and kissed, except to the soul which has advanced so far in merit as to deserve to be thus addressed by Him, "Arise, My love, My dove, My beautiful one." It is only such a soul that can say in those rare moments when she seems to herself to "have attained," at least in some sense, "I have found Him whom my soul loveth, I held Him and will not let Him go."

But it is not everyone who can attain to this perfection of charity. As for us who are still "within," that is, who still abide in our mortal bodies, let us love as ardently as we can, let us requite with love, let us tenderly embrace our Wounded Love, Whose Hands and Feet and Side and Heart, those impious husbandmen so cruelly dug; and let us implore of Him that He would vouchsafe to bind to His own with the bonds of love, and pierce with the lance of love, those hearts of ours, still hard and impenitent.

"SUMMI REGIS COR AVETO."

I.

O Heart of Him Who reigns on high, With gladsome soul I bid Thee hail! And to Thy love's embraces fly Where joys abound that never fail. Give me courage now to speak, Thou so great and I so weak.

II.

Oh, what strong love Thy might could bend, For my poor heart what strong desire, That Thou shouldst so exhaust and spend And give Thyself to me entire! Happy if Thou couldst but save Even so Thy rebel slave.

III.

Most bitter had that death to be, Most greedy and insensitive To violate this Sanctuary Where dwelt the Life of all that live, Rending with sharp pangs the shrine Filled with sweetnesses divine.

IV.

I pray Thee by Thy death of pain, O Heart beloved! endured for sin And me, that Thou my heart would deign To take and hold Thyself within. This is now my one desire, This is the grace I most require.

V.

Detach my soul from earthly things, From joys and cares, my only Love! Bid love and fear provide the wings To bear my heart to Thee above, Where from dark 'twill lightsome grow, And from cold with fervour glow.

VI.

Although a rebel slave of Thine To whom but stripes are justly due, I pray Thee, let Thy love divine Consume and pierce me through and through. Happy shall the torments be Caused by wounds of charity!

VII.

Expand, sweet Heart! Thyself unfold, As does the rose of fragrant breath, And mine, encompassed, captive hold To die in Thee a blissful death! For what ill can him befall Who makes Thee his all in all?

VIII.

The soul that feels this flame divine No longer can herself restrain, She acts as one o'er-charged with wine, And modes and measures give her pain: Subject now to foreign sway She does not herself obey.

IX.

With all the force which love can lend, O Heart beloved! I Thee implore That Thou wouldst to my level bend And make me Thine for evermore! So my heart with pulses sweet Henceforth but for Thee shall beat.

X.

Oh, let me but to love Thee live! And lest upon me sloth should steal, A prayerful worship to it give And for Thy glory fiery zeal. Granted this, my life shall be Full of joy since full of Thee.

XI.

Expand, sweet Rose, no limits hold, Disperse abroad Thy fragrance sweet, Within Thy amplitude enfold This heart of mine and make it beat Henceforth with the one desire Still to burn in love's dear fire.

XII.

But let my heart affliction smite And thus secure this union make, For heart to heart will well unite When each is pierced for other's sake. Come, then, sorrow, point thy dart, Pierce with woe this willing heart!

XIII.

As else to live I cannot bear, Oh, let me ever in Thee dwell, Whose bitter-sweets I fain would share, And share Thy glorious shames as well.³ Heart divine, my heart unfold, Since itself it cannot hold.

XIV.

There let me live, there let me die! For out of Thee I cannot rest, Oh, quench not, but intensify The flame that rages in my breast! Strengthen in my soul Thy sway, Dearer growing day by day.

Cum deformi specioso."

Footnotes

1. This and the following passages are read in the Office of the Sacred Heart, forming the lessons of the Second Nocturn ↩

2. "Inveni cor meum ut orem Deum meum." These words are not found in the Vulgate.—(Translator.) ↩

3. "In dolore gaudioso, ↩