“The love of God has moved my pen,My book is not from the mind of men.”And afterwards, she says, “I was warned by some that my book might give much offence, and that it would be burnt as evil teaching. And I turned to my Beloved, as was my wont, and said to Him that if it were so, He had Himself misled me, for it was He who commanded me to write it. Then did He reveal Himself to my sorrowful heart, as if He held the book in His right hand, and said, ‘My beloved one, do not be sorrowful. The truth can be burnt by no man. He who would take it out of My Hand must be stronger than I.’“And yet I still answered Him, ‘O Lord, if I were a learned clerk to whom Thou hadst shown these wonders, then might I write so as to bring Thee eternal glory. But how can it be that Thou shouldst build a golden house, the house of Thy dwelling place, in a miry pool?’“And He answered me, that when He gavethe gifts of His grace, He sought for the lowest and the smallest and the most unnoticed treasure houses. ‘It is not on the high mountains that men drink of the fountains, for the stream of My Holy Spirit flows downwards to the valleys below. There are many wise in the Scriptures, who are but fools and unlearned in other learning.’”Further on Matilda says that in the German tongue she found it hard to speak of that which God had shown her, and “of Latin I know nothing. For that which the eye can see, and the ear can hear, and the mouth can speak, is as unlike the truth which is revealed to the soul who loves, as a candle is to the glorious sun. Of the heavenly things which God has shown me I can speak but, as it were, a little word, not more than the honey which a little bee could carry away on his foot from an overflowing vessel.“And now, Lord, I will commend these writings to Thy tender mercy; and with a heart that sighs, and with eyes that weep, and with a downcast spirit, I pray that they never may be read by a Pharisee, and I pray also that Thy children may so receive them into their hearts, as Thou, O Lord, hast of Thy truth given out of Thy store to me.”Matilda’s book grew in an irregular manner from year to year. She wrote from time to time on loose sheets that which she believed she had received from God. There is, therefore, no connection in these writings, nor is there any plan in her manner of writing. Sometimes she wrote in prose, or in prose running from time to time into metre and rhyme. Sometimes she wrote in verse, in irregular measure, and with or without irregular rhymes, each division with a heading.The friar Henry of Halle collected the loose leaves, and before the death of Matilda he divided them into six books. A seventh book was added by Matilda after the death of Brother Henry. Five of these books appear to have been written before Matilda entered the convent of Hellfde, and some can be dated by allusions to contemporary events.[5]Apart from all that is interesting in these books, as literature or as history, there remains for the Christian reader who “is not a Pharisee” the far more interesting field of research into their value as spiritual teaching. The Pharisee will find much to blame and to despise in the ignorance and superstition of this Béguine of the Middle Ages.And in sifting Matilda’s writings, as indeed the writings of any man or woman, the gold, if there be any, has to be separated from the dross. The dross which had been accumulating for twelve centuries formed a large amount of that which Matilda believed she had learnt from God. We can recognise the gold by the one test furnished to us by Him who despises notany, but teaches the most ignorant who come to Him. If we apply to the writings of Matilda this infallible test, of conformity to the Word of God, we may be enriched by the gold without being encumbered by the dreary heaps of dross from which we have to sift it.The book is supposed to be the expression of the intercourse of the soul with God. That it is really soin part, can be verified by any Christian reader who will compare it with the Bible and with the experience common to Christian believers. That this true Christian teaching should be mixed with the errors of her time is natural, and we know that the errors of each successive age leave their traces in the books that are the most enlightened, and that our own age is no exception.The object in view in making the following extracts from Matilda’s book is not to present it as a literary or historical study. Were it so, it would be needful to give extracts from the false as well as from the true teaching, so as to give a correct idea of Matilda and her times. But writing simply with a desire that the truth taught to Matilda by the Spirit of God should be made available for those in these later days who are glad of spiritual food, the false and the imaginary willbe passed over, and the remainder given as much as possible in Matilda’s own words.It must be remarked, however, that certain expressions which in mediæval German conveyed no impression of irreverence would sound painfully familiar in modern English. An equivalent has, therefore, to be found conveying to readers now the same sense which the original words would have conveyed to the readers of the thirteenth century.It may also be remarked that the chief errors to be noted in Matilda’s book are a tendency to the worship (in a lower sense of the word) of the Virgin and the Saints, a belief in Purgatory, and a certain weight attached to the merit of human works.Of the first of these, it may truly be said that Matilda’s references to the Virgin Mother stand in remarkable contrast to the writings of later times. If compared with “the Glories of Mary,” now in popular use, they serve as a landmark showing the downward course of error and superstition in the Church of Rome during the past six hundred years, though there were already those, such as Bonaventura,[6]who hastened the fall.It must be observed, too, in reference to Matilda’s allusions to the Virgin Mary, that the chasm between the mother of the Lord and all ordinary believers is very much reduced if compared with that which exists in modern Roman Catholic books of devotion, from the fact that the place assigned to every redeemed soul in Matilda’s writings is far higher than in most Catholic or Protestant teaching. Even amongst Protestants it is not uncommon to regard the redeemed as in a place below the angels, or on a level with them. But to Matilda the power and the value of the work of Christ were so fully recognised, that she regarded the Bride of the Lamb, or the individual who is made a member of the body of Christ, as in the highest place next to the Bridegroom, the Head of the Body.As regards human merit, Matilda only appears occasionally to attach some weight to it in speaking of others; of herself, she says she has nothing to bring to God but her sin.The Journey to Eternal Peace.It will be best to describe Matilda’s spiritual life as far as possible from her own words. She gives us in parables the history of hersoul. Sometimes it seems well to give these in full, at other times to give the sense whilst omitting repetitions.She tells us that for a long time she was without rest or peace, knowing not only the guilt, but the power of sin, and she looked hither and thither for that which would meet her need. And the mind, as it were, disputed with the soul, for the mind would have her to seek her peace in the things that could be seen. And thus it said—“O soul, in the Magdalen’s bitter tearsDo the streams of comfort flow.”But the soul made answer—“Hold thy peace,For my need thou dost not know.The comfort I crave is joy divine,I needs must drink the unmingled wine.”“Soul, if as a virgin pure thou art,A river of love will fill thy heart.”“And if in troth it so might be,The fountain of love is not in me.”“Rejoice in the blood the martyrs shed.”“In the path of the martyrs I daily tread,But I have not found my rest.”“In the wisdom the Lord’s apostles taught,Is there peace, O soul, for thee.”“I have the Wisdom that is the best,He abideth ever with me.”“The angels in heaven are bright and fair,For solace, O soul, betake thee there.”“The joy of the angels is grief to me,If the Lord of the angels I may not see.”“In fastings and labours manifold,Did John in the wilderness toil of old,And so may peace be thine.”“To labour and suffer my heart is fain,But love is more than all toil and pain.”“O soul, the Virgin is kind and sweet,And fair the Child on her breast,And thou, adoring, before her feetShalt find thy rest.”“My Beloved is mine, and I am His,I seek the joy where the Bridegroom is;For a full-grown bride am I.”...Then doth the mind warn the soul, saying—“In His terrible glory no foot hath trod,A devouring fire dread to see;In the blinding light of the face of GodNo soul can be.For thou knowest that all high heaven is brightWith a glory beyond the sun,With the radiance of the saints in light,And the fount of that light is One.From the breath of the everlasting God,From the mouth of the Man Divine,From the counsel of God the Holy Ghost,Doth that awful glory shine.Soul, couldst thou abide for an hour aloneIn the burning fire around His throne?”“The fish drowns not in the mighty sea,The bird sinks not in the air,The gold in the furnace fire may be,And is yet more radiant there.For God to each of His creatures gaveThe place to its nature known,And shall it not be that my heart should craveFor that which is mine own?For my nature seeketh her dwelling-place,That only and none other;The child must joy in the Father’s face,The brethren in the Brother.To the bridal chamber goeth the bride,For love is her home and rest;And shall not I in His light abide,When I lean upon His breast?”. . . . . . .And she who is beloved with love untold,Thus goes to Him who is divinely fair,In His still chamber of unsullied gold,And love all pure, all holy, greets her there—The love of His eternal Godhead high,The love of His divine Humanity.Then speaketh He and saith, “Beloved one,What would’st thou? It is thine.From self shalt thou go forth for evermore,For thou art Mine.O soul, no angel for an hour might dreamOf all the riches that I give to thee,The glory and the beauty that beseemThe heritage of life that is in Me.Yet satisfied thou shalt for ever long,Thus sweeter shall be thine eternal song.”[7]“O Lord my God, so small, so poor am I,And great, almighty, O my God, art Thou.”“Yet thou art joined to Christ eternally;My love a changeless, everlasting NOW.”And thus the joyful soul is stillAt rest in God’s eternal will,And she is His, and thus delighteth HeHer own to be.The Path of Love.We have the same history, the same “pilgrim’s progress,” given to us in another form. Matilda calls it “The Path of Love.”—It is her own story, the years of dreary penance, followed by the revelation of Christ to the soul.“O thou that lovest, wouldst thou knowThe path wherein thy feet should go?”“Yea, teach it, Lord, to me.”“Through drear repentance leads the way,And the shame of sin confessed—And when thou hast trod on the world’s display,And on the devil’s behest,And on the flesh in its haughty pride,And on thy helpless will,That holds the soul of the chosen brideIn bonds and slavery still,And when the enemy conquered lies,And weary art thou and athirst—Then to Him whom thou lovest lift thine eyes,To Him who loved thee first.”Then shall He speak and say—“I hear a voice that calleth amain,A voice of love and tears;I have wooed, and I have listened in vainThrough long, long years—And it speaks to-day.My heart is troubled, and I must hasteTo the sad sweet voice across the waste.”. . . . . . .And in the morning, when the dew is sweet,She hears the gentle music of His feet—She hears Him speak and say, “I heard thy voice.”The glorious One draws nigh;Amidst the dew when all the woods rejoiceWith gladsome melody.And she arrays herself in fair attire,In raiment of a bride;Her mantle is the holy judgment fireWherein the gold is tried.Of meek humility her stole is spun,Her robe is white as snow,For unto Him, the High and Holy One,She fain would go.And thus she passeth through the forest dim,Where holy people dwell,And day and night, with dance and song and hymn,Their gladness tell;With solemn dance of praise that knows no end,Hands linked with other hands of ancient years;The mighty faith of Abraham His friend,The longing of His seers;The chaste humility of her who boreGod’s blessed Son;And all the victories that in days of yoreHis saints have won—These join in dance attuned to glorious songAnd move in cadence sweet,And multiplied as ages pass alongAre those rejoicing feet.He saith—“Beloved, do as they have doneWho praise My name alway.”And she makes answer—“Thou must lead me on,And I will dance as they;I move to music of Thy songRejoicing over me,And so my halting steps are strongTo follow after Thee;To pass within Thy love’s eternal rest,And onwards to confess Thee undismayed;And onwards yet, till on my Saviour’s breastMy soul is stayed;And yet beyond that rest and joy of mine,To joy which heart of man hath never known,Where Christ rejoiceth in His Song Divine—That joy of perfect love, O Lord, is Thine,And Thine alone.”Then doth He speak and say—“Beloved, thou hast praised Me in the danceAnd weary are thy feet—Behold in shadow of the trees of GodThe rest is sweet,Rest, rest with Me.”“O Lord, too great this love of Thine,Thine only can it be;For, lo! my love, Lord, is not mine,It comes from Thee.”The Journey through the Wilderness.Thus much do we know of the journey of this redeemed soul from self-occupation and self-discipline, whilst Christ listened for her voice in vain, to the knowledge of the peace and joy that is in Him. And we know something also of her earthly path, told us in a spiritual song, which she calls “How fair is the Bridegroom, and how the bride followeth Him.”“Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes;My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace;And see how swift My foot, and follow Me.For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be,Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds,And seized by hate, and bound by calumny,And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou shouldst see,By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee.And they shall scourge thee with the worlds despite,And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread,For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite,By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led,By misery left forlorn—And scourged by want, and by temptation crowned,And spit upon by scorn.The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be;Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will;The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee;And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay,Yet thou shalt love Me still.The spear shall pierce thine heart, and Mine shall beThe life that lives and moves henceforth in thee.Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross,Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss,Thou shalt awaken, and be borne aboveUpon the breath of Mine almighty love.”Thus the revelation of the love of God, which was to the soul the opening of heaven, the entrance into the Father’s house where was the feast of joy, the music, and the dancing, was to lead to a walk of faithfulness here below, which would bring upon the witness of God persecution and shame and reproach.Was it, therefore, that when the Lord had spoken to the Pharisees of the love which welcomes the publican and the sinner, of the joy and gladness into which the returning son was brought, He spoke to the disciples the solemn warning lest the riches, not onlytemporal, but spiritual, entrusted to them as stewards should be wasted by them? Is it not true that the revelation to the soul of that which is in the Father’s house, the joy and the love, and the unspeakable riches of Christ, needs nothing less than Divine grace and power to keep us from misusing the treasure entrusted to us, and making it an occasion for feeding and exalting the fleshly mind?Therefore Paul needed the thorn in the flesh, not to fit him for entering the third heaven, but after he had been there; so that the riches bestowed on him were not made an occasion for self-glorification, but he became a good steward of the manifold grace of God.It is to be carefully remarked in the writings of Matilda, that she does not speak of this entrance into the gladness of heaven as an attainment. On the contrary, as we have seen, she speaks of the result of her repentance, of her conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, as being but weariness and thirst.It is only when Christ comes into the parable that the heavenly experience begins.“For,” she says, “before the time whenJesus Christ opened heaven with the key of His cross, there was no man so holy that he could, or that he might, ascend up into the Eternal heavens—not with labour or with the soaring of the imagination, not with longing or the stretching forth of imploring arms, not with the utmost yearning of his love. For Adam had fastened the bolt so firmly, that no man could open it. Shouldst Thou, then, O Eternal Father, keep fast the door of heaven with the bolt of Thy justice, so that sinners must remain without, I turn me to Jesus, Thy beloved Son, who holds in His hands the key of Thine almighty power.“That key was forged in the land of the Jews, (and truly the Jews now would lock Thy people out of heaven and keep them in bondage), but when by Jesus the key was turned, the outcast sinner could enter into Thy love. But it is also the love of the Father who speaketh, and saith, ‘My soul endureth not that any sinner should be turned away who cometh to Me; therefore do I follow after many a soul for long, long years, till I lay hold upon him, and hold him fast.’”By the Jews who would lock the people of God out of heaven Matilda, it need not besaid, had in her mind the Jews of Christendom, the professing Church being constantly called by her Jerusalem, and the formalist priests “those who follow the law of the Jews.”But the name of Jerusalem was also employed by her as a name of honour, applied to the true Church of God, the true Bride of Christ.For within the outward profession of Christianity, Matilda recognised the living Body of Christ. It is true that the two should have been one and the same, as the soul and the visible body are one person. But it was no longer so, and Matilda therefore saw the professing Church, Christendom, divided into two parts, the living and the dead, the true and the false, the children of God and the children of this world. To her the true and living Church was yet glorious and undivided, for it was united in one by the Spirit of God. Whether amongst professing Catholics or amongst the “Friends of God” who stood apart from Rome these living stones were found, there was yet but the one building, the dwelling-place of God.If Matilda had no thoughts respecting the “Reunion of Christendom,” she had a firm belief in the Unity of the Church of God. Itcould not be reunited, for it was the Body of Christ. The prayer of the Lord “that they all may be one,” had been heard. “I know,” He said, “that Thou hearest Me always.”Through the ages when Christendom had been divided into countless sects, the true Members of Christ, whether they knew it or not, had been, and must be, one. It needed but to believe it, and to own it. But in order to recognise it as true, it was necessary that the eyes should be opened to see that the same profession of faith, or all varying professions of Christian faith, included the two classes, the living and the dead; the living, united together as the living members of the body; the dead, but separate particles of mouldering dust.A “Reunion of Christendom,” which would have as its object to form into one mass the living and the dead, can be but a denial of the great truth that “thereisone Body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling.”Matilda, in a parable, describes the true Church of God as a beautiful maiden standing upon a mighty stone, which was as a mountain of spices, and the name of which was Christ,her feet adorned with a jasper stone, which is Christian faith; and in her hand a cup, of which she drank alone “in unspeakable blessedness,” for the angels in heaven might not drink of it—it was “the Blood of the Eternal Son.”Matilda knew, and rejoiced to know, that she was one with all the saints of all the ages, and she tells us her experience of it also.As Mary, she said, she knew how the sword had pierced through her own soul also, because so many who seem “religious” are lukewarm and undecided for Christ.As John, “I know what it is to rest in the unspeakable love upon the bosom of Jesus Christ.”And as Paul, “Yes, Paul, I was caught up with thee, and I saw so marvellous a place, that thenceforth I could but long ever to be there. And I drank of the wine of which the heavenly Father is the cup-bearer, and Christ is the cup, and the Holy Ghost the pure, clear wine, and love is the plenishing. And love invited me and welcomed me to drink thereof, so that now I am well content to drink gall and vinegar here below.”And further, “Stephen, I kneel beside thee before the Jews who hated thee, amongst thesharp stones, which fall upon me, great ones and small ones, all my days. Those who seem to be good people stone me in the back, and run away, for they would not have me know it was they who did it. God, however, saw it.”“Mary Magdalene, I live with thee in the wilderness, for all is sorrow to me except my God.”Practice.Of Matilda’s daily life we know but little, having scarcely any incidents recorded in her book. Apparently, from various passages, we can learn that, like most Béguines, her time was chiefly occupied in tending the sick and poor.She considered it needful to visit the sick in the Béguinage daily, “to comfort them with the lovely words of God, and to refresh them also in a gentle way with earthly things, for God is very rich. It is needful also to bestow much care on the cleanliness of the sick-room, and it is a good thing to be merry and to laugh with them, but in a godly manner. And it is well to serve them with ready hands, and to ask them kindly to tell what are their pains and complaints, and to show them thatthey have a friend who will stand by them and care for them.”Household matters, too, were a part of Matilda’s experience. “It is right to go every day into the kitchen, and to see that the needful provisions are good, so that our stinginess, or the cook’s laziness, may not rob the Lord of the bodily strength of His servants. A hungry mouth will sing the Lord’s praises ill, and a hungry man is little fit for study, and this is so much taken from the Lord’s service.”Matilda also wrote letters, containing much wholesome advice. From a letter to a prior is the following:—“We should listen to any complaints with sympathy, and be very faithful in giving counsel. If the brethren desire to build magnificently, you should hinder this, and say, ‘Ah, dearest brethren, let us rather build for God a beautiful palace in our souls, with the stones of Holy Scripture and holy graces.’“The first stone of such a palace, in which the eternal God may dwell, and where His beloved may dwell with Him, is deep humility. We do not desire to build in pride and vanity, as the lords and ladies of this world; but we do need to build as heavenly princes upon earth,knowing that at the last day we shall sit on thrones with the despised Jesus.“And make sure that during the day or the night you find a full spare hour to converse with our dear Lord and God, praying to Him without let or hindrance. For the heavenly gift which God loves to give to His elect, His beloved children, is of a fine and noble sort, and it flows freely to the soul that draws near to Him, and to whom He bends down in His infinite love.“For His heart was so smitten with love to us that He gave up all things, and emptied Himself for more than thirty years, that He might at last embrace His beloved, and give free course to His love.“Will you not think of this? Could you be so uncourteous to Him, as to refuse Him one hour a day in return for these thirty years?“When I, the lowest of the least, go to my prayers, I adorn myself for this hour. I put on as my only ornament my unworthiness, I array myself in the miry slough that I am, and I am shod with the precious time that I have lost day by day, and I am girded with the pain which I have caused to others. And I am wrapped in the cloak of my sinfulness, of which I am full;and I put on my head the crown of my secret faults, wherewith I have trespassed against the Lord. Then I take the glass of the truth and look in it to see myself therein, and alas! I see but sorrow and shame. I would rather put on this dress than any rich attire, although it were better to be clothed in hell, and crowned with devils, than to be sinful as I am.“And in this dress do I go to seek Jesus, my blessed Lord, and I find Him in no other way so truly as in my sin.“Therefore with joy do I go to Him, with love and fear, and the uncleanness of my sin vanishes before His holy eyes, and He looks on me with such love, that my heart overflows with love to Him. And all the guilt and grief are gone, and He teaches me His will, and makes me to taste His sweetness, and He overwhelms me with His tender love.“Prayer has a marvellous power, it makes the bitter heart sweet, and the sorrowful heart glad, and the poor rich, and the foolish wise, and the fearful bold, and the sick strong, and the blind to see, and the cold to burn. It draws the great God down into the small heart, and lifts the hungry soul up to God, the living Fountain. It brings together theloving God and the loving soul in a blessed meeting-place, and they speak together of love.”In another letter she says, “That which hinders spiritual people more, perhaps, than anything, is the little importance attached to small sins. I tell you in truth, when I neglect a pleasant laugh that would have hurt nobody, or when I allow bitterness in my heart even without showing it in word or action, or when I feel a little impatience in suffering pain, my soul becomes so dark, and my mind so dull, and my heart so cold, that I have to go and confess my sin with shame and tears. I feel like a dog who has been beaten till I breathe again freely in the love and mercy of God, and find myself again in the sweet garden of Paradise, out of which my sin had driven me.”Gleanings from Matilda’s Book.The seven books which compose “The flowing forth of the light of the Godhead” being composed of detached papers put together by Brother Henry, have, as has been remarked, no special connection one with another. It may be as well to give detached poems from the first five books, and thoughts in prose, or rathernot in rhyme, asking indulgence for the imperfect rendering of either into modern English. The titles given are from the original.How God is to be Praised for Eight Things.O Dew, abundant from the depths of Heaven;O sweet white Flower, pure as mountain snow;O Precious Fruit of that celestial Flower;O Ransom from the everlasting woe;The holy Sacrifice for sins of men;The Gift that the eternal Father gave;O Dew of life, by Thee I live again,By Thee who camest down to seek and save.I see Thee small, in low and humble guise;And me Thou seest, great in shame and sin:Lord, I would be Thy daily sacrifice,Though I am worthless, vile, and foul within.Yet into that mean cup Thy grace will pourThe love that overflows for evermore.How God draweth the Soul to Himself.Eagle of the highest Heaven, gentle Lamb, Infolding Fire,Kindle, glow in me.Barren, thirsty, do I seek Thee,Through the ages of desire,One day as a thousand winters,Waiting, Lord, for Thee.Bitterer to the soul that lovethFar from her Beloved to dwell,Than the pit of doom to sinners—An abyss there is profounderThan the depths of hell.. . . . . . .The nightingale she can but sing,For she is made of love’s delight,Of love bereft, what else were leftThan death and night?Then spake the spirit to the soul—“Arise, O Queen, and sing!Behold, He comes, the Beloved One,Behold the Bridegroom King!”Then spake the soul in joyful fear—“O blessed Herald, so might it be!For I am faithless, guilty, vile,In Him alone is there rest for me.For me is no home beneath the skies,No summer land, and no resting-place,But the marvellous pity of His eyes,And the sweetness of His Face;And when all around the lights are dim,The heart that sorroweth turns to Him.”The Herald said—“Thou must watch and wait,And water the earth, and strew the flowers.”But the soul made answer—“The desolateMust watch in prayer, and must wait in shame,In tears must water, and long for the day;But if as I strew the flowers He came,From myself and my tears I should pass away.For He strikes the chords of the heavenly lyre,And sorrow and sadness turn and flee,And the earthly love, and the earth’s desire,In that music sweet depart from me.”The Soul’s Desire sent Forth to Seek the Beloved One.Thus spake the soul to her desire—“Speed forth afar and seeWhere may my Belovèd be,And say to Him, ‘His love I crave.’”Then fled the swift desire afar,And rose beyond sun, moon, and star,And called before the heavenly door,“Lord, open unto me!”Then spake the Host—“What need hast thou,That thou dost thus implore?”“O Lord, I come with the prayer of oneWho weepeth upon the earth alone—The fish on the sand must pine.”“Go back! no door is unbarred to theeTill thou bring the sorrowful soul to Me,For the need isMine.”Then sped the messenger swiftly home, and said—“The Master calleth Come!Arise and shine!”Then she as on summer winds doth riseIn joyful flight through the starry skies,And there meet her angels twain;For God hath sent two angels fleet,The well-belovèd soul to meet.And they ask—“What seekest thou thus afar?With the dark earth art thou clad.”The soul said—“Greet me better than so,For to Him who loveth me well I go,And I am no more sad.Lo! dimmed as ye near the earth below,Is the sweet light of your eyes;And with light of God do I shine and glowAs aloft I rise.”Then with an angel on either hand,The soul sped through the skies,And when she came to the angel land,To the country of Paradise,She was a stranger guest no more,For to her was opened the heavenly door,She saw the Beloved Face.Forth flowed her heart in weeping blest,She said, “My Lord, I have found my restIn the glory of Thy grace.I needs must praise Thee and adore,For evermore, for evermore.Whence came I here? I am lost in Thee;I can think no more of the earth below,Nor of the sorrow and weeping there.I had thought to tell Thee my grief and woe,But, Lord, I have seen Thee, and nought I know,But that Thou art fair.”The Complaint of the Loving Soul, and the Answer of God.“O Lord, too long Thou dost guard and spareThis dungeon-house of clay,Where I drink the water of sorrow and care,And the ashes of emptiness are my fare,From day to day.”“Where is thy patience, O My Queen?Let Thy sorrow be sore as it may,I heal it as if it never had been,When I speak, it has passed away.My riches of glory for ever are thine,Thy might has prevailed over Me,For I love thee for ever with love divine;If thou hast the token, the gold is Mine,And I weigh full measure to thee.For all things renounced, and for all things wrought,All sorrow, and all endeavour,I give thee beyond all desire or thought,For I give thee Myself for ever.”How God comes into the Soul.He comes to me in silent hours,As morning dew to summer flowers.How the Soul receiveth God, and how God receiveth the Soul.O sweet enfolding in the Arms divine,O blessed Vision, welcome passing sweet,I bow beneath the joy that I am Thine,A weight of gladness cast I at Thy feet.O heights of God! within Thy clefts I hide,The home where dove and nightingale abide.“All hail, My dove! on earth belowThou hast roamed afar and long,Until should grow the strong swift wings,That should bear Thee aloft from thy wanderingsTo the rest and song.”The Soul’s fivefold Praise of God.O blessed God, who pourest forth Thy store;O God, whose love flows on for evermore;O God, whose longing burns eternally;O God, in whom I dwell, whose dwelling is in me;O God, whose rest is in my love—In Thee alone I live and move.Of the Soul’s Complaint, of the Garden, and of the New Song.“When mine eyes are dim with weeping,And my tongue with grief is dumb;And it is as if Thou wert sleepingWhen my heart calleth, ‘Come;’When I hunger with bitter hunger,O Lord, for Thee.Where art Thou, then, Belovèd?Speak, speak to me.”“I am where I was in the ancient days,I in Myself must be;In all things I am, and in every place,For there is no change in Me.Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above,[8]For thee, O Mine own, I wait;I wait for thee in the garden of love,Till thou comest irradiateWith the light that shines from My Face divine,And I pluck the flowers for thee;They are thine, belovèd, for they are Mine,And thou art one with Me.In the tender grass by the waters still,I have made thy resting-place;Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will,And sure in My changeless grace.And I bend for thee the holy Tree,Where blossoms the mystic Rod;The highest of all the trees that beIn the Paradise of God.And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat,Of the Life that is in Me;Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat,And passing fair to see.There overshadowed by mighty wingsOf the Holy Spirit’s peace,Beyond the sorrow of earthly things,The toil and the tears shall cease.And there beneath the eternal Tree,I will teach thy lips to singThe sweet new song that no man knowsIn the land of his banishing.They follow the Lamb where’er He goes,To whom it is revealed;The pure and the undefiled are those,The ransomed and the sealed.Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare,And thou shalt sing as they,Not only there in My garden fair,But here, belovèd, to-day.”
“The love of God has moved my pen,My book is not from the mind of men.”And afterwards, she says, “I was warned by some that my book might give much offence, and that it would be burnt as evil teaching. And I turned to my Beloved, as was my wont, and said to Him that if it were so, He had Himself misled me, for it was He who commanded me to write it. Then did He reveal Himself to my sorrowful heart, as if He held the book in His right hand, and said, ‘My beloved one, do not be sorrowful. The truth can be burnt by no man. He who would take it out of My Hand must be stronger than I.’“And yet I still answered Him, ‘O Lord, if I were a learned clerk to whom Thou hadst shown these wonders, then might I write so as to bring Thee eternal glory. But how can it be that Thou shouldst build a golden house, the house of Thy dwelling place, in a miry pool?’“And He answered me, that when He gavethe gifts of His grace, He sought for the lowest and the smallest and the most unnoticed treasure houses. ‘It is not on the high mountains that men drink of the fountains, for the stream of My Holy Spirit flows downwards to the valleys below. There are many wise in the Scriptures, who are but fools and unlearned in other learning.’”Further on Matilda says that in the German tongue she found it hard to speak of that which God had shown her, and “of Latin I know nothing. For that which the eye can see, and the ear can hear, and the mouth can speak, is as unlike the truth which is revealed to the soul who loves, as a candle is to the glorious sun. Of the heavenly things which God has shown me I can speak but, as it were, a little word, not more than the honey which a little bee could carry away on his foot from an overflowing vessel.“And now, Lord, I will commend these writings to Thy tender mercy; and with a heart that sighs, and with eyes that weep, and with a downcast spirit, I pray that they never may be read by a Pharisee, and I pray also that Thy children may so receive them into their hearts, as Thou, O Lord, hast of Thy truth given out of Thy store to me.”Matilda’s book grew in an irregular manner from year to year. She wrote from time to time on loose sheets that which she believed she had received from God. There is, therefore, no connection in these writings, nor is there any plan in her manner of writing. Sometimes she wrote in prose, or in prose running from time to time into metre and rhyme. Sometimes she wrote in verse, in irregular measure, and with or without irregular rhymes, each division with a heading.The friar Henry of Halle collected the loose leaves, and before the death of Matilda he divided them into six books. A seventh book was added by Matilda after the death of Brother Henry. Five of these books appear to have been written before Matilda entered the convent of Hellfde, and some can be dated by allusions to contemporary events.[5]Apart from all that is interesting in these books, as literature or as history, there remains for the Christian reader who “is not a Pharisee” the far more interesting field of research into their value as spiritual teaching. The Pharisee will find much to blame and to despise in the ignorance and superstition of this Béguine of the Middle Ages.And in sifting Matilda’s writings, as indeed the writings of any man or woman, the gold, if there be any, has to be separated from the dross. The dross which had been accumulating for twelve centuries formed a large amount of that which Matilda believed she had learnt from God. We can recognise the gold by the one test furnished to us by Him who despises notany, but teaches the most ignorant who come to Him. If we apply to the writings of Matilda this infallible test, of conformity to the Word of God, we may be enriched by the gold without being encumbered by the dreary heaps of dross from which we have to sift it.The book is supposed to be the expression of the intercourse of the soul with God. That it is really soin part, can be verified by any Christian reader who will compare it with the Bible and with the experience common to Christian believers. That this true Christian teaching should be mixed with the errors of her time is natural, and we know that the errors of each successive age leave their traces in the books that are the most enlightened, and that our own age is no exception.The object in view in making the following extracts from Matilda’s book is not to present it as a literary or historical study. Were it so, it would be needful to give extracts from the false as well as from the true teaching, so as to give a correct idea of Matilda and her times. But writing simply with a desire that the truth taught to Matilda by the Spirit of God should be made available for those in these later days who are glad of spiritual food, the false and the imaginary willbe passed over, and the remainder given as much as possible in Matilda’s own words.It must be remarked, however, that certain expressions which in mediæval German conveyed no impression of irreverence would sound painfully familiar in modern English. An equivalent has, therefore, to be found conveying to readers now the same sense which the original words would have conveyed to the readers of the thirteenth century.It may also be remarked that the chief errors to be noted in Matilda’s book are a tendency to the worship (in a lower sense of the word) of the Virgin and the Saints, a belief in Purgatory, and a certain weight attached to the merit of human works.Of the first of these, it may truly be said that Matilda’s references to the Virgin Mother stand in remarkable contrast to the writings of later times. If compared with “the Glories of Mary,” now in popular use, they serve as a landmark showing the downward course of error and superstition in the Church of Rome during the past six hundred years, though there were already those, such as Bonaventura,[6]who hastened the fall.It must be observed, too, in reference to Matilda’s allusions to the Virgin Mary, that the chasm between the mother of the Lord and all ordinary believers is very much reduced if compared with that which exists in modern Roman Catholic books of devotion, from the fact that the place assigned to every redeemed soul in Matilda’s writings is far higher than in most Catholic or Protestant teaching. Even amongst Protestants it is not uncommon to regard the redeemed as in a place below the angels, or on a level with them. But to Matilda the power and the value of the work of Christ were so fully recognised, that she regarded the Bride of the Lamb, or the individual who is made a member of the body of Christ, as in the highest place next to the Bridegroom, the Head of the Body.As regards human merit, Matilda only appears occasionally to attach some weight to it in speaking of others; of herself, she says she has nothing to bring to God but her sin.The Journey to Eternal Peace.It will be best to describe Matilda’s spiritual life as far as possible from her own words. She gives us in parables the history of hersoul. Sometimes it seems well to give these in full, at other times to give the sense whilst omitting repetitions.She tells us that for a long time she was without rest or peace, knowing not only the guilt, but the power of sin, and she looked hither and thither for that which would meet her need. And the mind, as it were, disputed with the soul, for the mind would have her to seek her peace in the things that could be seen. And thus it said—“O soul, in the Magdalen’s bitter tearsDo the streams of comfort flow.”But the soul made answer—“Hold thy peace,For my need thou dost not know.The comfort I crave is joy divine,I needs must drink the unmingled wine.”“Soul, if as a virgin pure thou art,A river of love will fill thy heart.”“And if in troth it so might be,The fountain of love is not in me.”“Rejoice in the blood the martyrs shed.”“In the path of the martyrs I daily tread,But I have not found my rest.”“In the wisdom the Lord’s apostles taught,Is there peace, O soul, for thee.”“I have the Wisdom that is the best,He abideth ever with me.”“The angels in heaven are bright and fair,For solace, O soul, betake thee there.”“The joy of the angels is grief to me,If the Lord of the angels I may not see.”“In fastings and labours manifold,Did John in the wilderness toil of old,And so may peace be thine.”“To labour and suffer my heart is fain,But love is more than all toil and pain.”“O soul, the Virgin is kind and sweet,And fair the Child on her breast,And thou, adoring, before her feetShalt find thy rest.”“My Beloved is mine, and I am His,I seek the joy where the Bridegroom is;For a full-grown bride am I.”...Then doth the mind warn the soul, saying—“In His terrible glory no foot hath trod,A devouring fire dread to see;In the blinding light of the face of GodNo soul can be.For thou knowest that all high heaven is brightWith a glory beyond the sun,With the radiance of the saints in light,And the fount of that light is One.From the breath of the everlasting God,From the mouth of the Man Divine,From the counsel of God the Holy Ghost,Doth that awful glory shine.Soul, couldst thou abide for an hour aloneIn the burning fire around His throne?”“The fish drowns not in the mighty sea,The bird sinks not in the air,The gold in the furnace fire may be,And is yet more radiant there.For God to each of His creatures gaveThe place to its nature known,And shall it not be that my heart should craveFor that which is mine own?For my nature seeketh her dwelling-place,That only and none other;The child must joy in the Father’s face,The brethren in the Brother.To the bridal chamber goeth the bride,For love is her home and rest;And shall not I in His light abide,When I lean upon His breast?”. . . . . . .And she who is beloved with love untold,Thus goes to Him who is divinely fair,In His still chamber of unsullied gold,And love all pure, all holy, greets her there—The love of His eternal Godhead high,The love of His divine Humanity.Then speaketh He and saith, “Beloved one,What would’st thou? It is thine.From self shalt thou go forth for evermore,For thou art Mine.O soul, no angel for an hour might dreamOf all the riches that I give to thee,The glory and the beauty that beseemThe heritage of life that is in Me.Yet satisfied thou shalt for ever long,Thus sweeter shall be thine eternal song.”[7]“O Lord my God, so small, so poor am I,And great, almighty, O my God, art Thou.”“Yet thou art joined to Christ eternally;My love a changeless, everlasting NOW.”And thus the joyful soul is stillAt rest in God’s eternal will,And she is His, and thus delighteth HeHer own to be.The Path of Love.We have the same history, the same “pilgrim’s progress,” given to us in another form. Matilda calls it “The Path of Love.”—It is her own story, the years of dreary penance, followed by the revelation of Christ to the soul.“O thou that lovest, wouldst thou knowThe path wherein thy feet should go?”“Yea, teach it, Lord, to me.”“Through drear repentance leads the way,And the shame of sin confessed—And when thou hast trod on the world’s display,And on the devil’s behest,And on the flesh in its haughty pride,And on thy helpless will,That holds the soul of the chosen brideIn bonds and slavery still,And when the enemy conquered lies,And weary art thou and athirst—Then to Him whom thou lovest lift thine eyes,To Him who loved thee first.”Then shall He speak and say—“I hear a voice that calleth amain,A voice of love and tears;I have wooed, and I have listened in vainThrough long, long years—And it speaks to-day.My heart is troubled, and I must hasteTo the sad sweet voice across the waste.”. . . . . . .And in the morning, when the dew is sweet,She hears the gentle music of His feet—She hears Him speak and say, “I heard thy voice.”The glorious One draws nigh;Amidst the dew when all the woods rejoiceWith gladsome melody.And she arrays herself in fair attire,In raiment of a bride;Her mantle is the holy judgment fireWherein the gold is tried.Of meek humility her stole is spun,Her robe is white as snow,For unto Him, the High and Holy One,She fain would go.And thus she passeth through the forest dim,Where holy people dwell,And day and night, with dance and song and hymn,Their gladness tell;With solemn dance of praise that knows no end,Hands linked with other hands of ancient years;The mighty faith of Abraham His friend,The longing of His seers;The chaste humility of her who boreGod’s blessed Son;And all the victories that in days of yoreHis saints have won—These join in dance attuned to glorious songAnd move in cadence sweet,And multiplied as ages pass alongAre those rejoicing feet.He saith—“Beloved, do as they have doneWho praise My name alway.”And she makes answer—“Thou must lead me on,And I will dance as they;I move to music of Thy songRejoicing over me,And so my halting steps are strongTo follow after Thee;To pass within Thy love’s eternal rest,And onwards to confess Thee undismayed;And onwards yet, till on my Saviour’s breastMy soul is stayed;And yet beyond that rest and joy of mine,To joy which heart of man hath never known,Where Christ rejoiceth in His Song Divine—That joy of perfect love, O Lord, is Thine,And Thine alone.”Then doth He speak and say—“Beloved, thou hast praised Me in the danceAnd weary are thy feet—Behold in shadow of the trees of GodThe rest is sweet,Rest, rest with Me.”“O Lord, too great this love of Thine,Thine only can it be;For, lo! my love, Lord, is not mine,It comes from Thee.”The Journey through the Wilderness.Thus much do we know of the journey of this redeemed soul from self-occupation and self-discipline, whilst Christ listened for her voice in vain, to the knowledge of the peace and joy that is in Him. And we know something also of her earthly path, told us in a spiritual song, which she calls “How fair is the Bridegroom, and how the bride followeth Him.”“Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes;My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace;And see how swift My foot, and follow Me.For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be,Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds,And seized by hate, and bound by calumny,And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou shouldst see,By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee.And they shall scourge thee with the worlds despite,And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread,For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite,By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led,By misery left forlorn—And scourged by want, and by temptation crowned,And spit upon by scorn.The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be;Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will;The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee;And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay,Yet thou shalt love Me still.The spear shall pierce thine heart, and Mine shall beThe life that lives and moves henceforth in thee.Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross,Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss,Thou shalt awaken, and be borne aboveUpon the breath of Mine almighty love.”Thus the revelation of the love of God, which was to the soul the opening of heaven, the entrance into the Father’s house where was the feast of joy, the music, and the dancing, was to lead to a walk of faithfulness here below, which would bring upon the witness of God persecution and shame and reproach.Was it, therefore, that when the Lord had spoken to the Pharisees of the love which welcomes the publican and the sinner, of the joy and gladness into which the returning son was brought, He spoke to the disciples the solemn warning lest the riches, not onlytemporal, but spiritual, entrusted to them as stewards should be wasted by them? Is it not true that the revelation to the soul of that which is in the Father’s house, the joy and the love, and the unspeakable riches of Christ, needs nothing less than Divine grace and power to keep us from misusing the treasure entrusted to us, and making it an occasion for feeding and exalting the fleshly mind?Therefore Paul needed the thorn in the flesh, not to fit him for entering the third heaven, but after he had been there; so that the riches bestowed on him were not made an occasion for self-glorification, but he became a good steward of the manifold grace of God.It is to be carefully remarked in the writings of Matilda, that she does not speak of this entrance into the gladness of heaven as an attainment. On the contrary, as we have seen, she speaks of the result of her repentance, of her conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, as being but weariness and thirst.It is only when Christ comes into the parable that the heavenly experience begins.“For,” she says, “before the time whenJesus Christ opened heaven with the key of His cross, there was no man so holy that he could, or that he might, ascend up into the Eternal heavens—not with labour or with the soaring of the imagination, not with longing or the stretching forth of imploring arms, not with the utmost yearning of his love. For Adam had fastened the bolt so firmly, that no man could open it. Shouldst Thou, then, O Eternal Father, keep fast the door of heaven with the bolt of Thy justice, so that sinners must remain without, I turn me to Jesus, Thy beloved Son, who holds in His hands the key of Thine almighty power.“That key was forged in the land of the Jews, (and truly the Jews now would lock Thy people out of heaven and keep them in bondage), but when by Jesus the key was turned, the outcast sinner could enter into Thy love. But it is also the love of the Father who speaketh, and saith, ‘My soul endureth not that any sinner should be turned away who cometh to Me; therefore do I follow after many a soul for long, long years, till I lay hold upon him, and hold him fast.’”By the Jews who would lock the people of God out of heaven Matilda, it need not besaid, had in her mind the Jews of Christendom, the professing Church being constantly called by her Jerusalem, and the formalist priests “those who follow the law of the Jews.”But the name of Jerusalem was also employed by her as a name of honour, applied to the true Church of God, the true Bride of Christ.For within the outward profession of Christianity, Matilda recognised the living Body of Christ. It is true that the two should have been one and the same, as the soul and the visible body are one person. But it was no longer so, and Matilda therefore saw the professing Church, Christendom, divided into two parts, the living and the dead, the true and the false, the children of God and the children of this world. To her the true and living Church was yet glorious and undivided, for it was united in one by the Spirit of God. Whether amongst professing Catholics or amongst the “Friends of God” who stood apart from Rome these living stones were found, there was yet but the one building, the dwelling-place of God.If Matilda had no thoughts respecting the “Reunion of Christendom,” she had a firm belief in the Unity of the Church of God. Itcould not be reunited, for it was the Body of Christ. The prayer of the Lord “that they all may be one,” had been heard. “I know,” He said, “that Thou hearest Me always.”Through the ages when Christendom had been divided into countless sects, the true Members of Christ, whether they knew it or not, had been, and must be, one. It needed but to believe it, and to own it. But in order to recognise it as true, it was necessary that the eyes should be opened to see that the same profession of faith, or all varying professions of Christian faith, included the two classes, the living and the dead; the living, united together as the living members of the body; the dead, but separate particles of mouldering dust.A “Reunion of Christendom,” which would have as its object to form into one mass the living and the dead, can be but a denial of the great truth that “thereisone Body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling.”Matilda, in a parable, describes the true Church of God as a beautiful maiden standing upon a mighty stone, which was as a mountain of spices, and the name of which was Christ,her feet adorned with a jasper stone, which is Christian faith; and in her hand a cup, of which she drank alone “in unspeakable blessedness,” for the angels in heaven might not drink of it—it was “the Blood of the Eternal Son.”Matilda knew, and rejoiced to know, that she was one with all the saints of all the ages, and she tells us her experience of it also.As Mary, she said, she knew how the sword had pierced through her own soul also, because so many who seem “religious” are lukewarm and undecided for Christ.As John, “I know what it is to rest in the unspeakable love upon the bosom of Jesus Christ.”And as Paul, “Yes, Paul, I was caught up with thee, and I saw so marvellous a place, that thenceforth I could but long ever to be there. And I drank of the wine of which the heavenly Father is the cup-bearer, and Christ is the cup, and the Holy Ghost the pure, clear wine, and love is the plenishing. And love invited me and welcomed me to drink thereof, so that now I am well content to drink gall and vinegar here below.”And further, “Stephen, I kneel beside thee before the Jews who hated thee, amongst thesharp stones, which fall upon me, great ones and small ones, all my days. Those who seem to be good people stone me in the back, and run away, for they would not have me know it was they who did it. God, however, saw it.”“Mary Magdalene, I live with thee in the wilderness, for all is sorrow to me except my God.”Practice.Of Matilda’s daily life we know but little, having scarcely any incidents recorded in her book. Apparently, from various passages, we can learn that, like most Béguines, her time was chiefly occupied in tending the sick and poor.She considered it needful to visit the sick in the Béguinage daily, “to comfort them with the lovely words of God, and to refresh them also in a gentle way with earthly things, for God is very rich. It is needful also to bestow much care on the cleanliness of the sick-room, and it is a good thing to be merry and to laugh with them, but in a godly manner. And it is well to serve them with ready hands, and to ask them kindly to tell what are their pains and complaints, and to show them thatthey have a friend who will stand by them and care for them.”Household matters, too, were a part of Matilda’s experience. “It is right to go every day into the kitchen, and to see that the needful provisions are good, so that our stinginess, or the cook’s laziness, may not rob the Lord of the bodily strength of His servants. A hungry mouth will sing the Lord’s praises ill, and a hungry man is little fit for study, and this is so much taken from the Lord’s service.”Matilda also wrote letters, containing much wholesome advice. From a letter to a prior is the following:—“We should listen to any complaints with sympathy, and be very faithful in giving counsel. If the brethren desire to build magnificently, you should hinder this, and say, ‘Ah, dearest brethren, let us rather build for God a beautiful palace in our souls, with the stones of Holy Scripture and holy graces.’“The first stone of such a palace, in which the eternal God may dwell, and where His beloved may dwell with Him, is deep humility. We do not desire to build in pride and vanity, as the lords and ladies of this world; but we do need to build as heavenly princes upon earth,knowing that at the last day we shall sit on thrones with the despised Jesus.“And make sure that during the day or the night you find a full spare hour to converse with our dear Lord and God, praying to Him without let or hindrance. For the heavenly gift which God loves to give to His elect, His beloved children, is of a fine and noble sort, and it flows freely to the soul that draws near to Him, and to whom He bends down in His infinite love.“For His heart was so smitten with love to us that He gave up all things, and emptied Himself for more than thirty years, that He might at last embrace His beloved, and give free course to His love.“Will you not think of this? Could you be so uncourteous to Him, as to refuse Him one hour a day in return for these thirty years?“When I, the lowest of the least, go to my prayers, I adorn myself for this hour. I put on as my only ornament my unworthiness, I array myself in the miry slough that I am, and I am shod with the precious time that I have lost day by day, and I am girded with the pain which I have caused to others. And I am wrapped in the cloak of my sinfulness, of which I am full;and I put on my head the crown of my secret faults, wherewith I have trespassed against the Lord. Then I take the glass of the truth and look in it to see myself therein, and alas! I see but sorrow and shame. I would rather put on this dress than any rich attire, although it were better to be clothed in hell, and crowned with devils, than to be sinful as I am.“And in this dress do I go to seek Jesus, my blessed Lord, and I find Him in no other way so truly as in my sin.“Therefore with joy do I go to Him, with love and fear, and the uncleanness of my sin vanishes before His holy eyes, and He looks on me with such love, that my heart overflows with love to Him. And all the guilt and grief are gone, and He teaches me His will, and makes me to taste His sweetness, and He overwhelms me with His tender love.“Prayer has a marvellous power, it makes the bitter heart sweet, and the sorrowful heart glad, and the poor rich, and the foolish wise, and the fearful bold, and the sick strong, and the blind to see, and the cold to burn. It draws the great God down into the small heart, and lifts the hungry soul up to God, the living Fountain. It brings together theloving God and the loving soul in a blessed meeting-place, and they speak together of love.”In another letter she says, “That which hinders spiritual people more, perhaps, than anything, is the little importance attached to small sins. I tell you in truth, when I neglect a pleasant laugh that would have hurt nobody, or when I allow bitterness in my heart even without showing it in word or action, or when I feel a little impatience in suffering pain, my soul becomes so dark, and my mind so dull, and my heart so cold, that I have to go and confess my sin with shame and tears. I feel like a dog who has been beaten till I breathe again freely in the love and mercy of God, and find myself again in the sweet garden of Paradise, out of which my sin had driven me.”Gleanings from Matilda’s Book.The seven books which compose “The flowing forth of the light of the Godhead” being composed of detached papers put together by Brother Henry, have, as has been remarked, no special connection one with another. It may be as well to give detached poems from the first five books, and thoughts in prose, or rathernot in rhyme, asking indulgence for the imperfect rendering of either into modern English. The titles given are from the original.How God is to be Praised for Eight Things.O Dew, abundant from the depths of Heaven;O sweet white Flower, pure as mountain snow;O Precious Fruit of that celestial Flower;O Ransom from the everlasting woe;The holy Sacrifice for sins of men;The Gift that the eternal Father gave;O Dew of life, by Thee I live again,By Thee who camest down to seek and save.I see Thee small, in low and humble guise;And me Thou seest, great in shame and sin:Lord, I would be Thy daily sacrifice,Though I am worthless, vile, and foul within.Yet into that mean cup Thy grace will pourThe love that overflows for evermore.How God draweth the Soul to Himself.Eagle of the highest Heaven, gentle Lamb, Infolding Fire,Kindle, glow in me.Barren, thirsty, do I seek Thee,Through the ages of desire,One day as a thousand winters,Waiting, Lord, for Thee.Bitterer to the soul that lovethFar from her Beloved to dwell,Than the pit of doom to sinners—An abyss there is profounderThan the depths of hell.. . . . . . .The nightingale she can but sing,For she is made of love’s delight,Of love bereft, what else were leftThan death and night?Then spake the spirit to the soul—“Arise, O Queen, and sing!Behold, He comes, the Beloved One,Behold the Bridegroom King!”Then spake the soul in joyful fear—“O blessed Herald, so might it be!For I am faithless, guilty, vile,In Him alone is there rest for me.For me is no home beneath the skies,No summer land, and no resting-place,But the marvellous pity of His eyes,And the sweetness of His Face;And when all around the lights are dim,The heart that sorroweth turns to Him.”The Herald said—“Thou must watch and wait,And water the earth, and strew the flowers.”But the soul made answer—“The desolateMust watch in prayer, and must wait in shame,In tears must water, and long for the day;But if as I strew the flowers He came,From myself and my tears I should pass away.For He strikes the chords of the heavenly lyre,And sorrow and sadness turn and flee,And the earthly love, and the earth’s desire,In that music sweet depart from me.”The Soul’s Desire sent Forth to Seek the Beloved One.Thus spake the soul to her desire—“Speed forth afar and seeWhere may my Belovèd be,And say to Him, ‘His love I crave.’”Then fled the swift desire afar,And rose beyond sun, moon, and star,And called before the heavenly door,“Lord, open unto me!”Then spake the Host—“What need hast thou,That thou dost thus implore?”“O Lord, I come with the prayer of oneWho weepeth upon the earth alone—The fish on the sand must pine.”“Go back! no door is unbarred to theeTill thou bring the sorrowful soul to Me,For the need isMine.”Then sped the messenger swiftly home, and said—“The Master calleth Come!Arise and shine!”Then she as on summer winds doth riseIn joyful flight through the starry skies,And there meet her angels twain;For God hath sent two angels fleet,The well-belovèd soul to meet.And they ask—“What seekest thou thus afar?With the dark earth art thou clad.”The soul said—“Greet me better than so,For to Him who loveth me well I go,And I am no more sad.Lo! dimmed as ye near the earth below,Is the sweet light of your eyes;And with light of God do I shine and glowAs aloft I rise.”Then with an angel on either hand,The soul sped through the skies,And when she came to the angel land,To the country of Paradise,She was a stranger guest no more,For to her was opened the heavenly door,She saw the Beloved Face.Forth flowed her heart in weeping blest,She said, “My Lord, I have found my restIn the glory of Thy grace.I needs must praise Thee and adore,For evermore, for evermore.Whence came I here? I am lost in Thee;I can think no more of the earth below,Nor of the sorrow and weeping there.I had thought to tell Thee my grief and woe,But, Lord, I have seen Thee, and nought I know,But that Thou art fair.”The Complaint of the Loving Soul, and the Answer of God.“O Lord, too long Thou dost guard and spareThis dungeon-house of clay,Where I drink the water of sorrow and care,And the ashes of emptiness are my fare,From day to day.”“Where is thy patience, O My Queen?Let Thy sorrow be sore as it may,I heal it as if it never had been,When I speak, it has passed away.My riches of glory for ever are thine,Thy might has prevailed over Me,For I love thee for ever with love divine;If thou hast the token, the gold is Mine,And I weigh full measure to thee.For all things renounced, and for all things wrought,All sorrow, and all endeavour,I give thee beyond all desire or thought,For I give thee Myself for ever.”How God comes into the Soul.He comes to me in silent hours,As morning dew to summer flowers.How the Soul receiveth God, and how God receiveth the Soul.O sweet enfolding in the Arms divine,O blessed Vision, welcome passing sweet,I bow beneath the joy that I am Thine,A weight of gladness cast I at Thy feet.O heights of God! within Thy clefts I hide,The home where dove and nightingale abide.“All hail, My dove! on earth belowThou hast roamed afar and long,Until should grow the strong swift wings,That should bear Thee aloft from thy wanderingsTo the rest and song.”The Soul’s fivefold Praise of God.O blessed God, who pourest forth Thy store;O God, whose love flows on for evermore;O God, whose longing burns eternally;O God, in whom I dwell, whose dwelling is in me;O God, whose rest is in my love—In Thee alone I live and move.Of the Soul’s Complaint, of the Garden, and of the New Song.“When mine eyes are dim with weeping,And my tongue with grief is dumb;And it is as if Thou wert sleepingWhen my heart calleth, ‘Come;’When I hunger with bitter hunger,O Lord, for Thee.Where art Thou, then, Belovèd?Speak, speak to me.”“I am where I was in the ancient days,I in Myself must be;In all things I am, and in every place,For there is no change in Me.Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above,[8]For thee, O Mine own, I wait;I wait for thee in the garden of love,Till thou comest irradiateWith the light that shines from My Face divine,And I pluck the flowers for thee;They are thine, belovèd, for they are Mine,And thou art one with Me.In the tender grass by the waters still,I have made thy resting-place;Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will,And sure in My changeless grace.And I bend for thee the holy Tree,Where blossoms the mystic Rod;The highest of all the trees that beIn the Paradise of God.And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat,Of the Life that is in Me;Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat,And passing fair to see.There overshadowed by mighty wingsOf the Holy Spirit’s peace,Beyond the sorrow of earthly things,The toil and the tears shall cease.And there beneath the eternal Tree,I will teach thy lips to singThe sweet new song that no man knowsIn the land of his banishing.They follow the Lamb where’er He goes,To whom it is revealed;The pure and the undefiled are those,The ransomed and the sealed.Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare,And thou shalt sing as they,Not only there in My garden fair,But here, belovèd, to-day.”
“The love of God has moved my pen,My book is not from the mind of men.”
“The love of God has moved my pen,
My book is not from the mind of men.”
And afterwards, she says, “I was warned by some that my book might give much offence, and that it would be burnt as evil teaching. And I turned to my Beloved, as was my wont, and said to Him that if it were so, He had Himself misled me, for it was He who commanded me to write it. Then did He reveal Himself to my sorrowful heart, as if He held the book in His right hand, and said, ‘My beloved one, do not be sorrowful. The truth can be burnt by no man. He who would take it out of My Hand must be stronger than I.’
“And yet I still answered Him, ‘O Lord, if I were a learned clerk to whom Thou hadst shown these wonders, then might I write so as to bring Thee eternal glory. But how can it be that Thou shouldst build a golden house, the house of Thy dwelling place, in a miry pool?’
“And He answered me, that when He gavethe gifts of His grace, He sought for the lowest and the smallest and the most unnoticed treasure houses. ‘It is not on the high mountains that men drink of the fountains, for the stream of My Holy Spirit flows downwards to the valleys below. There are many wise in the Scriptures, who are but fools and unlearned in other learning.’”
Further on Matilda says that in the German tongue she found it hard to speak of that which God had shown her, and “of Latin I know nothing. For that which the eye can see, and the ear can hear, and the mouth can speak, is as unlike the truth which is revealed to the soul who loves, as a candle is to the glorious sun. Of the heavenly things which God has shown me I can speak but, as it were, a little word, not more than the honey which a little bee could carry away on his foot from an overflowing vessel.
“And now, Lord, I will commend these writings to Thy tender mercy; and with a heart that sighs, and with eyes that weep, and with a downcast spirit, I pray that they never may be read by a Pharisee, and I pray also that Thy children may so receive them into their hearts, as Thou, O Lord, hast of Thy truth given out of Thy store to me.”
Matilda’s book grew in an irregular manner from year to year. She wrote from time to time on loose sheets that which she believed she had received from God. There is, therefore, no connection in these writings, nor is there any plan in her manner of writing. Sometimes she wrote in prose, or in prose running from time to time into metre and rhyme. Sometimes she wrote in verse, in irregular measure, and with or without irregular rhymes, each division with a heading.
The friar Henry of Halle collected the loose leaves, and before the death of Matilda he divided them into six books. A seventh book was added by Matilda after the death of Brother Henry. Five of these books appear to have been written before Matilda entered the convent of Hellfde, and some can be dated by allusions to contemporary events.[5]
Apart from all that is interesting in these books, as literature or as history, there remains for the Christian reader who “is not a Pharisee” the far more interesting field of research into their value as spiritual teaching. The Pharisee will find much to blame and to despise in the ignorance and superstition of this Béguine of the Middle Ages.
And in sifting Matilda’s writings, as indeed the writings of any man or woman, the gold, if there be any, has to be separated from the dross. The dross which had been accumulating for twelve centuries formed a large amount of that which Matilda believed she had learnt from God. We can recognise the gold by the one test furnished to us by Him who despises notany, but teaches the most ignorant who come to Him. If we apply to the writings of Matilda this infallible test, of conformity to the Word of God, we may be enriched by the gold without being encumbered by the dreary heaps of dross from which we have to sift it.
The book is supposed to be the expression of the intercourse of the soul with God. That it is really soin part, can be verified by any Christian reader who will compare it with the Bible and with the experience common to Christian believers. That this true Christian teaching should be mixed with the errors of her time is natural, and we know that the errors of each successive age leave their traces in the books that are the most enlightened, and that our own age is no exception.
The object in view in making the following extracts from Matilda’s book is not to present it as a literary or historical study. Were it so, it would be needful to give extracts from the false as well as from the true teaching, so as to give a correct idea of Matilda and her times. But writing simply with a desire that the truth taught to Matilda by the Spirit of God should be made available for those in these later days who are glad of spiritual food, the false and the imaginary willbe passed over, and the remainder given as much as possible in Matilda’s own words.
It must be remarked, however, that certain expressions which in mediæval German conveyed no impression of irreverence would sound painfully familiar in modern English. An equivalent has, therefore, to be found conveying to readers now the same sense which the original words would have conveyed to the readers of the thirteenth century.
It may also be remarked that the chief errors to be noted in Matilda’s book are a tendency to the worship (in a lower sense of the word) of the Virgin and the Saints, a belief in Purgatory, and a certain weight attached to the merit of human works.
Of the first of these, it may truly be said that Matilda’s references to the Virgin Mother stand in remarkable contrast to the writings of later times. If compared with “the Glories of Mary,” now in popular use, they serve as a landmark showing the downward course of error and superstition in the Church of Rome during the past six hundred years, though there were already those, such as Bonaventura,[6]who hastened the fall.
It must be observed, too, in reference to Matilda’s allusions to the Virgin Mary, that the chasm between the mother of the Lord and all ordinary believers is very much reduced if compared with that which exists in modern Roman Catholic books of devotion, from the fact that the place assigned to every redeemed soul in Matilda’s writings is far higher than in most Catholic or Protestant teaching. Even amongst Protestants it is not uncommon to regard the redeemed as in a place below the angels, or on a level with them. But to Matilda the power and the value of the work of Christ were so fully recognised, that she regarded the Bride of the Lamb, or the individual who is made a member of the body of Christ, as in the highest place next to the Bridegroom, the Head of the Body.
As regards human merit, Matilda only appears occasionally to attach some weight to it in speaking of others; of herself, she says she has nothing to bring to God but her sin.
It will be best to describe Matilda’s spiritual life as far as possible from her own words. She gives us in parables the history of hersoul. Sometimes it seems well to give these in full, at other times to give the sense whilst omitting repetitions.
She tells us that for a long time she was without rest or peace, knowing not only the guilt, but the power of sin, and she looked hither and thither for that which would meet her need. And the mind, as it were, disputed with the soul, for the mind would have her to seek her peace in the things that could be seen. And thus it said—
“O soul, in the Magdalen’s bitter tearsDo the streams of comfort flow.”
“O soul, in the Magdalen’s bitter tears
Do the streams of comfort flow.”
But the soul made answer—
“Hold thy peace,For my need thou dost not know.The comfort I crave is joy divine,I needs must drink the unmingled wine.”
“Hold thy peace,
For my need thou dost not know.
The comfort I crave is joy divine,
I needs must drink the unmingled wine.”
“Soul, if as a virgin pure thou art,A river of love will fill thy heart.”
“Soul, if as a virgin pure thou art,
A river of love will fill thy heart.”
“And if in troth it so might be,The fountain of love is not in me.”
“And if in troth it so might be,
The fountain of love is not in me.”
“Rejoice in the blood the martyrs shed.”
“Rejoice in the blood the martyrs shed.”
“In the path of the martyrs I daily tread,But I have not found my rest.”
“In the path of the martyrs I daily tread,
But I have not found my rest.”
“In the wisdom the Lord’s apostles taught,Is there peace, O soul, for thee.”
“In the wisdom the Lord’s apostles taught,
Is there peace, O soul, for thee.”
“I have the Wisdom that is the best,He abideth ever with me.”
“I have the Wisdom that is the best,
He abideth ever with me.”
“The angels in heaven are bright and fair,For solace, O soul, betake thee there.”
“The angels in heaven are bright and fair,
For solace, O soul, betake thee there.”
“The joy of the angels is grief to me,If the Lord of the angels I may not see.”
“The joy of the angels is grief to me,
If the Lord of the angels I may not see.”
“In fastings and labours manifold,Did John in the wilderness toil of old,And so may peace be thine.”
“In fastings and labours manifold,
Did John in the wilderness toil of old,
And so may peace be thine.”
“To labour and suffer my heart is fain,But love is more than all toil and pain.”
“To labour and suffer my heart is fain,
But love is more than all toil and pain.”
“O soul, the Virgin is kind and sweet,And fair the Child on her breast,And thou, adoring, before her feetShalt find thy rest.”
“O soul, the Virgin is kind and sweet,
And fair the Child on her breast,
And thou, adoring, before her feet
Shalt find thy rest.”
“My Beloved is mine, and I am His,I seek the joy where the Bridegroom is;For a full-grown bride am I.”...
“My Beloved is mine, and I am His,
I seek the joy where the Bridegroom is;
For a full-grown bride am I.”...
Then doth the mind warn the soul, saying—
“In His terrible glory no foot hath trod,A devouring fire dread to see;In the blinding light of the face of GodNo soul can be.For thou knowest that all high heaven is brightWith a glory beyond the sun,With the radiance of the saints in light,And the fount of that light is One.From the breath of the everlasting God,From the mouth of the Man Divine,From the counsel of God the Holy Ghost,Doth that awful glory shine.Soul, couldst thou abide for an hour aloneIn the burning fire around His throne?”
“In His terrible glory no foot hath trod,
A devouring fire dread to see;
In the blinding light of the face of God
No soul can be.
For thou knowest that all high heaven is bright
With a glory beyond the sun,
With the radiance of the saints in light,
And the fount of that light is One.
From the breath of the everlasting God,
From the mouth of the Man Divine,
From the counsel of God the Holy Ghost,
Doth that awful glory shine.
Soul, couldst thou abide for an hour alone
In the burning fire around His throne?”
“The fish drowns not in the mighty sea,The bird sinks not in the air,The gold in the furnace fire may be,And is yet more radiant there.For God to each of His creatures gaveThe place to its nature known,And shall it not be that my heart should craveFor that which is mine own?For my nature seeketh her dwelling-place,That only and none other;The child must joy in the Father’s face,The brethren in the Brother.To the bridal chamber goeth the bride,For love is her home and rest;And shall not I in His light abide,When I lean upon His breast?”
“The fish drowns not in the mighty sea,
The bird sinks not in the air,
The gold in the furnace fire may be,
And is yet more radiant there.
For God to each of His creatures gave
The place to its nature known,
And shall it not be that my heart should crave
For that which is mine own?
For my nature seeketh her dwelling-place,
That only and none other;
The child must joy in the Father’s face,
The brethren in the Brother.
To the bridal chamber goeth the bride,
For love is her home and rest;
And shall not I in His light abide,
When I lean upon His breast?”
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
And she who is beloved with love untold,Thus goes to Him who is divinely fair,In His still chamber of unsullied gold,And love all pure, all holy, greets her there—The love of His eternal Godhead high,The love of His divine Humanity.Then speaketh He and saith, “Beloved one,What would’st thou? It is thine.From self shalt thou go forth for evermore,For thou art Mine.O soul, no angel for an hour might dreamOf all the riches that I give to thee,The glory and the beauty that beseemThe heritage of life that is in Me.Yet satisfied thou shalt for ever long,Thus sweeter shall be thine eternal song.”[7]
And she who is beloved with love untold,
Thus goes to Him who is divinely fair,
In His still chamber of unsullied gold,
And love all pure, all holy, greets her there—
The love of His eternal Godhead high,
The love of His divine Humanity.
Then speaketh He and saith, “Beloved one,
What would’st thou? It is thine.
From self shalt thou go forth for evermore,
For thou art Mine.
O soul, no angel for an hour might dream
Of all the riches that I give to thee,
The glory and the beauty that beseem
The heritage of life that is in Me.
Yet satisfied thou shalt for ever long,
Thus sweeter shall be thine eternal song.”[7]
“O Lord my God, so small, so poor am I,And great, almighty, O my God, art Thou.”
“O Lord my God, so small, so poor am I,
And great, almighty, O my God, art Thou.”
“Yet thou art joined to Christ eternally;My love a changeless, everlasting NOW.”
“Yet thou art joined to Christ eternally;
My love a changeless, everlasting NOW.”
And thus the joyful soul is stillAt rest in God’s eternal will,And she is His, and thus delighteth HeHer own to be.
And thus the joyful soul is still
At rest in God’s eternal will,
And she is His, and thus delighteth He
Her own to be.
We have the same history, the same “pilgrim’s progress,” given to us in another form. Matilda calls it “The Path of Love.”—It is her own story, the years of dreary penance, followed by the revelation of Christ to the soul.
“O thou that lovest, wouldst thou knowThe path wherein thy feet should go?”
“O thou that lovest, wouldst thou know
The path wherein thy feet should go?”
“Yea, teach it, Lord, to me.”
“Yea, teach it, Lord, to me.”
“Through drear repentance leads the way,And the shame of sin confessed—And when thou hast trod on the world’s display,And on the devil’s behest,And on the flesh in its haughty pride,And on thy helpless will,That holds the soul of the chosen brideIn bonds and slavery still,And when the enemy conquered lies,And weary art thou and athirst—Then to Him whom thou lovest lift thine eyes,To Him who loved thee first.”
“Through drear repentance leads the way,
And the shame of sin confessed—
And when thou hast trod on the world’s display,
And on the devil’s behest,
And on the flesh in its haughty pride,
And on thy helpless will,
That holds the soul of the chosen bride
In bonds and slavery still,
And when the enemy conquered lies,
And weary art thou and athirst—
Then to Him whom thou lovest lift thine eyes,
To Him who loved thee first.”
Then shall He speak and say—
“I hear a voice that calleth amain,A voice of love and tears;I have wooed, and I have listened in vainThrough long, long years—And it speaks to-day.My heart is troubled, and I must hasteTo the sad sweet voice across the waste.”
“I hear a voice that calleth amain,
A voice of love and tears;
I have wooed, and I have listened in vain
Through long, long years—
And it speaks to-day.
My heart is troubled, and I must haste
To the sad sweet voice across the waste.”
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
And in the morning, when the dew is sweet,She hears the gentle music of His feet—She hears Him speak and say, “I heard thy voice.”The glorious One draws nigh;Amidst the dew when all the woods rejoiceWith gladsome melody.And she arrays herself in fair attire,In raiment of a bride;Her mantle is the holy judgment fireWherein the gold is tried.Of meek humility her stole is spun,Her robe is white as snow,For unto Him, the High and Holy One,She fain would go.And thus she passeth through the forest dim,Where holy people dwell,And day and night, with dance and song and hymn,Their gladness tell;With solemn dance of praise that knows no end,Hands linked with other hands of ancient years;The mighty faith of Abraham His friend,The longing of His seers;The chaste humility of her who boreGod’s blessed Son;And all the victories that in days of yoreHis saints have won—These join in dance attuned to glorious songAnd move in cadence sweet,And multiplied as ages pass alongAre those rejoicing feet.
And in the morning, when the dew is sweet,
She hears the gentle music of His feet—
She hears Him speak and say, “I heard thy voice.”
The glorious One draws nigh;
Amidst the dew when all the woods rejoice
With gladsome melody.
And she arrays herself in fair attire,
In raiment of a bride;
Her mantle is the holy judgment fire
Wherein the gold is tried.
Of meek humility her stole is spun,
Her robe is white as snow,
For unto Him, the High and Holy One,
She fain would go.
And thus she passeth through the forest dim,
Where holy people dwell,
And day and night, with dance and song and hymn,
Their gladness tell;
With solemn dance of praise that knows no end,
Hands linked with other hands of ancient years;
The mighty faith of Abraham His friend,
The longing of His seers;
The chaste humility of her who bore
God’s blessed Son;
And all the victories that in days of yore
His saints have won—
These join in dance attuned to glorious song
And move in cadence sweet,
And multiplied as ages pass along
Are those rejoicing feet.
He saith—
“Beloved, do as they have doneWho praise My name alway.”
“Beloved, do as they have done
Who praise My name alway.”
And she makes answer—
“Thou must lead me on,And I will dance as they;I move to music of Thy songRejoicing over me,And so my halting steps are strongTo follow after Thee;To pass within Thy love’s eternal rest,And onwards to confess Thee undismayed;And onwards yet, till on my Saviour’s breastMy soul is stayed;And yet beyond that rest and joy of mine,To joy which heart of man hath never known,Where Christ rejoiceth in His Song Divine—That joy of perfect love, O Lord, is Thine,And Thine alone.”
“Thou must lead me on,
And I will dance as they;
I move to music of Thy song
Rejoicing over me,
And so my halting steps are strong
To follow after Thee;
To pass within Thy love’s eternal rest,
And onwards to confess Thee undismayed;
And onwards yet, till on my Saviour’s breast
My soul is stayed;
And yet beyond that rest and joy of mine,
To joy which heart of man hath never known,
Where Christ rejoiceth in His Song Divine—
That joy of perfect love, O Lord, is Thine,
And Thine alone.”
Then doth He speak and say—
“Beloved, thou hast praised Me in the danceAnd weary are thy feet—Behold in shadow of the trees of GodThe rest is sweet,Rest, rest with Me.”
“Beloved, thou hast praised Me in the dance
And weary are thy feet—
Behold in shadow of the trees of God
The rest is sweet,
Rest, rest with Me.”
“O Lord, too great this love of Thine,Thine only can it be;For, lo! my love, Lord, is not mine,It comes from Thee.”
“O Lord, too great this love of Thine,
Thine only can it be;
For, lo! my love, Lord, is not mine,
It comes from Thee.”
Thus much do we know of the journey of this redeemed soul from self-occupation and self-discipline, whilst Christ listened for her voice in vain, to the knowledge of the peace and joy that is in Him. And we know something also of her earthly path, told us in a spiritual song, which she calls “How fair is the Bridegroom, and how the bride followeth Him.”
“Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes;My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace;And see how swift My foot, and follow Me.For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be,Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds,And seized by hate, and bound by calumny,And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou shouldst see,By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee.And they shall scourge thee with the worlds despite,And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread,For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite,By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led,By misery left forlorn—And scourged by want, and by temptation crowned,And spit upon by scorn.The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be;Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will;The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee;And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay,Yet thou shalt love Me still.The spear shall pierce thine heart, and Mine shall beThe life that lives and moves henceforth in thee.Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross,Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss,Thou shalt awaken, and be borne aboveUpon the breath of Mine almighty love.”
“Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes;
My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace;
And see how swift My foot, and follow Me.
For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be,
Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds,
And seized by hate, and bound by calumny,
And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou shouldst see,
By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee.
And they shall scourge thee with the worlds despite,
And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread,
For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite,
By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led,
By misery left forlorn—
And scourged by want, and by temptation crowned,
And spit upon by scorn.
The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be;
Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will;
The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee;
And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay,
Yet thou shalt love Me still.
The spear shall pierce thine heart, and Mine shall be
The life that lives and moves henceforth in thee.
Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross,
Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss,
Thou shalt awaken, and be borne above
Upon the breath of Mine almighty love.”
Thus the revelation of the love of God, which was to the soul the opening of heaven, the entrance into the Father’s house where was the feast of joy, the music, and the dancing, was to lead to a walk of faithfulness here below, which would bring upon the witness of God persecution and shame and reproach.
Was it, therefore, that when the Lord had spoken to the Pharisees of the love which welcomes the publican and the sinner, of the joy and gladness into which the returning son was brought, He spoke to the disciples the solemn warning lest the riches, not onlytemporal, but spiritual, entrusted to them as stewards should be wasted by them? Is it not true that the revelation to the soul of that which is in the Father’s house, the joy and the love, and the unspeakable riches of Christ, needs nothing less than Divine grace and power to keep us from misusing the treasure entrusted to us, and making it an occasion for feeding and exalting the fleshly mind?
Therefore Paul needed the thorn in the flesh, not to fit him for entering the third heaven, but after he had been there; so that the riches bestowed on him were not made an occasion for self-glorification, but he became a good steward of the manifold grace of God.
It is to be carefully remarked in the writings of Matilda, that she does not speak of this entrance into the gladness of heaven as an attainment. On the contrary, as we have seen, she speaks of the result of her repentance, of her conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, as being but weariness and thirst.
It is only when Christ comes into the parable that the heavenly experience begins.
“For,” she says, “before the time whenJesus Christ opened heaven with the key of His cross, there was no man so holy that he could, or that he might, ascend up into the Eternal heavens—not with labour or with the soaring of the imagination, not with longing or the stretching forth of imploring arms, not with the utmost yearning of his love. For Adam had fastened the bolt so firmly, that no man could open it. Shouldst Thou, then, O Eternal Father, keep fast the door of heaven with the bolt of Thy justice, so that sinners must remain without, I turn me to Jesus, Thy beloved Son, who holds in His hands the key of Thine almighty power.
“That key was forged in the land of the Jews, (and truly the Jews now would lock Thy people out of heaven and keep them in bondage), but when by Jesus the key was turned, the outcast sinner could enter into Thy love. But it is also the love of the Father who speaketh, and saith, ‘My soul endureth not that any sinner should be turned away who cometh to Me; therefore do I follow after many a soul for long, long years, till I lay hold upon him, and hold him fast.’”
By the Jews who would lock the people of God out of heaven Matilda, it need not besaid, had in her mind the Jews of Christendom, the professing Church being constantly called by her Jerusalem, and the formalist priests “those who follow the law of the Jews.”
But the name of Jerusalem was also employed by her as a name of honour, applied to the true Church of God, the true Bride of Christ.
For within the outward profession of Christianity, Matilda recognised the living Body of Christ. It is true that the two should have been one and the same, as the soul and the visible body are one person. But it was no longer so, and Matilda therefore saw the professing Church, Christendom, divided into two parts, the living and the dead, the true and the false, the children of God and the children of this world. To her the true and living Church was yet glorious and undivided, for it was united in one by the Spirit of God. Whether amongst professing Catholics or amongst the “Friends of God” who stood apart from Rome these living stones were found, there was yet but the one building, the dwelling-place of God.
If Matilda had no thoughts respecting the “Reunion of Christendom,” she had a firm belief in the Unity of the Church of God. Itcould not be reunited, for it was the Body of Christ. The prayer of the Lord “that they all may be one,” had been heard. “I know,” He said, “that Thou hearest Me always.”
Through the ages when Christendom had been divided into countless sects, the true Members of Christ, whether they knew it or not, had been, and must be, one. It needed but to believe it, and to own it. But in order to recognise it as true, it was necessary that the eyes should be opened to see that the same profession of faith, or all varying professions of Christian faith, included the two classes, the living and the dead; the living, united together as the living members of the body; the dead, but separate particles of mouldering dust.
A “Reunion of Christendom,” which would have as its object to form into one mass the living and the dead, can be but a denial of the great truth that “thereisone Body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling.”
Matilda, in a parable, describes the true Church of God as a beautiful maiden standing upon a mighty stone, which was as a mountain of spices, and the name of which was Christ,her feet adorned with a jasper stone, which is Christian faith; and in her hand a cup, of which she drank alone “in unspeakable blessedness,” for the angels in heaven might not drink of it—it was “the Blood of the Eternal Son.”
Matilda knew, and rejoiced to know, that she was one with all the saints of all the ages, and she tells us her experience of it also.
As Mary, she said, she knew how the sword had pierced through her own soul also, because so many who seem “religious” are lukewarm and undecided for Christ.
As John, “I know what it is to rest in the unspeakable love upon the bosom of Jesus Christ.”
And as Paul, “Yes, Paul, I was caught up with thee, and I saw so marvellous a place, that thenceforth I could but long ever to be there. And I drank of the wine of which the heavenly Father is the cup-bearer, and Christ is the cup, and the Holy Ghost the pure, clear wine, and love is the plenishing. And love invited me and welcomed me to drink thereof, so that now I am well content to drink gall and vinegar here below.”
And further, “Stephen, I kneel beside thee before the Jews who hated thee, amongst thesharp stones, which fall upon me, great ones and small ones, all my days. Those who seem to be good people stone me in the back, and run away, for they would not have me know it was they who did it. God, however, saw it.”
“Mary Magdalene, I live with thee in the wilderness, for all is sorrow to me except my God.”
Of Matilda’s daily life we know but little, having scarcely any incidents recorded in her book. Apparently, from various passages, we can learn that, like most Béguines, her time was chiefly occupied in tending the sick and poor.
She considered it needful to visit the sick in the Béguinage daily, “to comfort them with the lovely words of God, and to refresh them also in a gentle way with earthly things, for God is very rich. It is needful also to bestow much care on the cleanliness of the sick-room, and it is a good thing to be merry and to laugh with them, but in a godly manner. And it is well to serve them with ready hands, and to ask them kindly to tell what are their pains and complaints, and to show them thatthey have a friend who will stand by them and care for them.”
Household matters, too, were a part of Matilda’s experience. “It is right to go every day into the kitchen, and to see that the needful provisions are good, so that our stinginess, or the cook’s laziness, may not rob the Lord of the bodily strength of His servants. A hungry mouth will sing the Lord’s praises ill, and a hungry man is little fit for study, and this is so much taken from the Lord’s service.”
Matilda also wrote letters, containing much wholesome advice. From a letter to a prior is the following:—
“We should listen to any complaints with sympathy, and be very faithful in giving counsel. If the brethren desire to build magnificently, you should hinder this, and say, ‘Ah, dearest brethren, let us rather build for God a beautiful palace in our souls, with the stones of Holy Scripture and holy graces.’
“The first stone of such a palace, in which the eternal God may dwell, and where His beloved may dwell with Him, is deep humility. We do not desire to build in pride and vanity, as the lords and ladies of this world; but we do need to build as heavenly princes upon earth,knowing that at the last day we shall sit on thrones with the despised Jesus.
“And make sure that during the day or the night you find a full spare hour to converse with our dear Lord and God, praying to Him without let or hindrance. For the heavenly gift which God loves to give to His elect, His beloved children, is of a fine and noble sort, and it flows freely to the soul that draws near to Him, and to whom He bends down in His infinite love.
“For His heart was so smitten with love to us that He gave up all things, and emptied Himself for more than thirty years, that He might at last embrace His beloved, and give free course to His love.
“Will you not think of this? Could you be so uncourteous to Him, as to refuse Him one hour a day in return for these thirty years?
“When I, the lowest of the least, go to my prayers, I adorn myself for this hour. I put on as my only ornament my unworthiness, I array myself in the miry slough that I am, and I am shod with the precious time that I have lost day by day, and I am girded with the pain which I have caused to others. And I am wrapped in the cloak of my sinfulness, of which I am full;and I put on my head the crown of my secret faults, wherewith I have trespassed against the Lord. Then I take the glass of the truth and look in it to see myself therein, and alas! I see but sorrow and shame. I would rather put on this dress than any rich attire, although it were better to be clothed in hell, and crowned with devils, than to be sinful as I am.
“And in this dress do I go to seek Jesus, my blessed Lord, and I find Him in no other way so truly as in my sin.
“Therefore with joy do I go to Him, with love and fear, and the uncleanness of my sin vanishes before His holy eyes, and He looks on me with such love, that my heart overflows with love to Him. And all the guilt and grief are gone, and He teaches me His will, and makes me to taste His sweetness, and He overwhelms me with His tender love.
“Prayer has a marvellous power, it makes the bitter heart sweet, and the sorrowful heart glad, and the poor rich, and the foolish wise, and the fearful bold, and the sick strong, and the blind to see, and the cold to burn. It draws the great God down into the small heart, and lifts the hungry soul up to God, the living Fountain. It brings together theloving God and the loving soul in a blessed meeting-place, and they speak together of love.”
In another letter she says, “That which hinders spiritual people more, perhaps, than anything, is the little importance attached to small sins. I tell you in truth, when I neglect a pleasant laugh that would have hurt nobody, or when I allow bitterness in my heart even without showing it in word or action, or when I feel a little impatience in suffering pain, my soul becomes so dark, and my mind so dull, and my heart so cold, that I have to go and confess my sin with shame and tears. I feel like a dog who has been beaten till I breathe again freely in the love and mercy of God, and find myself again in the sweet garden of Paradise, out of which my sin had driven me.”
The seven books which compose “The flowing forth of the light of the Godhead” being composed of detached papers put together by Brother Henry, have, as has been remarked, no special connection one with another. It may be as well to give detached poems from the first five books, and thoughts in prose, or rathernot in rhyme, asking indulgence for the imperfect rendering of either into modern English. The titles given are from the original.
O Dew, abundant from the depths of Heaven;O sweet white Flower, pure as mountain snow;O Precious Fruit of that celestial Flower;O Ransom from the everlasting woe;The holy Sacrifice for sins of men;The Gift that the eternal Father gave;O Dew of life, by Thee I live again,By Thee who camest down to seek and save.I see Thee small, in low and humble guise;And me Thou seest, great in shame and sin:Lord, I would be Thy daily sacrifice,Though I am worthless, vile, and foul within.Yet into that mean cup Thy grace will pourThe love that overflows for evermore.
O Dew, abundant from the depths of Heaven;
O sweet white Flower, pure as mountain snow;
O Precious Fruit of that celestial Flower;
O Ransom from the everlasting woe;
The holy Sacrifice for sins of men;
The Gift that the eternal Father gave;
O Dew of life, by Thee I live again,
By Thee who camest down to seek and save.
I see Thee small, in low and humble guise;
And me Thou seest, great in shame and sin:
Lord, I would be Thy daily sacrifice,
Though I am worthless, vile, and foul within.
Yet into that mean cup Thy grace will pour
The love that overflows for evermore.
Eagle of the highest Heaven, gentle Lamb, Infolding Fire,Kindle, glow in me.Barren, thirsty, do I seek Thee,Through the ages of desire,One day as a thousand winters,Waiting, Lord, for Thee.Bitterer to the soul that lovethFar from her Beloved to dwell,Than the pit of doom to sinners—An abyss there is profounderThan the depths of hell.
Eagle of the highest Heaven, gentle Lamb, Infolding Fire,
Kindle, glow in me.
Barren, thirsty, do I seek Thee,
Through the ages of desire,
One day as a thousand winters,
Waiting, Lord, for Thee.
Bitterer to the soul that loveth
Far from her Beloved to dwell,
Than the pit of doom to sinners—
An abyss there is profounder
Than the depths of hell.
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
The nightingale she can but sing,For she is made of love’s delight,Of love bereft, what else were leftThan death and night?
The nightingale she can but sing,
For she is made of love’s delight,
Of love bereft, what else were left
Than death and night?
Then spake the spirit to the soul—
“Arise, O Queen, and sing!Behold, He comes, the Beloved One,Behold the Bridegroom King!”
“Arise, O Queen, and sing!
Behold, He comes, the Beloved One,
Behold the Bridegroom King!”
Then spake the soul in joyful fear—
“O blessed Herald, so might it be!For I am faithless, guilty, vile,In Him alone is there rest for me.For me is no home beneath the skies,No summer land, and no resting-place,But the marvellous pity of His eyes,And the sweetness of His Face;And when all around the lights are dim,The heart that sorroweth turns to Him.”
“O blessed Herald, so might it be!
For I am faithless, guilty, vile,
In Him alone is there rest for me.
For me is no home beneath the skies,
No summer land, and no resting-place,
But the marvellous pity of His eyes,
And the sweetness of His Face;
And when all around the lights are dim,
The heart that sorroweth turns to Him.”
The Herald said—
“Thou must watch and wait,And water the earth, and strew the flowers.”
“Thou must watch and wait,
And water the earth, and strew the flowers.”
But the soul made answer—
“The desolateMust watch in prayer, and must wait in shame,In tears must water, and long for the day;But if as I strew the flowers He came,From myself and my tears I should pass away.For He strikes the chords of the heavenly lyre,And sorrow and sadness turn and flee,And the earthly love, and the earth’s desire,In that music sweet depart from me.”
“The desolate
Must watch in prayer, and must wait in shame,
In tears must water, and long for the day;
But if as I strew the flowers He came,
From myself and my tears I should pass away.
For He strikes the chords of the heavenly lyre,
And sorrow and sadness turn and flee,
And the earthly love, and the earth’s desire,
In that music sweet depart from me.”
Thus spake the soul to her desire—
“Speed forth afar and seeWhere may my Belovèd be,And say to Him, ‘His love I crave.’”
“Speed forth afar and see
Where may my Belovèd be,
And say to Him, ‘His love I crave.’”
Then fled the swift desire afar,And rose beyond sun, moon, and star,And called before the heavenly door,“Lord, open unto me!”
Then fled the swift desire afar,
And rose beyond sun, moon, and star,
And called before the heavenly door,
“Lord, open unto me!”
Then spake the Host—
“What need hast thou,That thou dost thus implore?”
“What need hast thou,
That thou dost thus implore?”
“O Lord, I come with the prayer of oneWho weepeth upon the earth alone—The fish on the sand must pine.”
“O Lord, I come with the prayer of one
Who weepeth upon the earth alone—
The fish on the sand must pine.”
“Go back! no door is unbarred to theeTill thou bring the sorrowful soul to Me,For the need isMine.”
“Go back! no door is unbarred to thee
Till thou bring the sorrowful soul to Me,
For the need isMine.”
Then sped the messenger swiftly home, and said—
“The Master calleth Come!Arise and shine!”
“The Master calleth Come!
Arise and shine!”
Then she as on summer winds doth riseIn joyful flight through the starry skies,And there meet her angels twain;For God hath sent two angels fleet,The well-belovèd soul to meet.
Then she as on summer winds doth rise
In joyful flight through the starry skies,
And there meet her angels twain;
For God hath sent two angels fleet,
The well-belovèd soul to meet.
And they ask—
“What seekest thou thus afar?With the dark earth art thou clad.”
“What seekest thou thus afar?
With the dark earth art thou clad.”
The soul said—
“Greet me better than so,For to Him who loveth me well I go,And I am no more sad.Lo! dimmed as ye near the earth below,Is the sweet light of your eyes;And with light of God do I shine and glowAs aloft I rise.”Then with an angel on either hand,The soul sped through the skies,And when she came to the angel land,To the country of Paradise,She was a stranger guest no more,For to her was opened the heavenly door,She saw the Beloved Face.Forth flowed her heart in weeping blest,She said, “My Lord, I have found my restIn the glory of Thy grace.I needs must praise Thee and adore,For evermore, for evermore.Whence came I here? I am lost in Thee;I can think no more of the earth below,Nor of the sorrow and weeping there.I had thought to tell Thee my grief and woe,But, Lord, I have seen Thee, and nought I know,But that Thou art fair.”
“Greet me better than so,
For to Him who loveth me well I go,
And I am no more sad.
Lo! dimmed as ye near the earth below,
Is the sweet light of your eyes;
And with light of God do I shine and glow
As aloft I rise.”
Then with an angel on either hand,
The soul sped through the skies,
And when she came to the angel land,
To the country of Paradise,
She was a stranger guest no more,
For to her was opened the heavenly door,
She saw the Beloved Face.
Forth flowed her heart in weeping blest,
She said, “My Lord, I have found my rest
In the glory of Thy grace.
I needs must praise Thee and adore,
For evermore, for evermore.
Whence came I here? I am lost in Thee;
I can think no more of the earth below,
Nor of the sorrow and weeping there.
I had thought to tell Thee my grief and woe,
But, Lord, I have seen Thee, and nought I know,
But that Thou art fair.”
“O Lord, too long Thou dost guard and spareThis dungeon-house of clay,Where I drink the water of sorrow and care,And the ashes of emptiness are my fare,From day to day.”
“O Lord, too long Thou dost guard and spare
This dungeon-house of clay,
Where I drink the water of sorrow and care,
And the ashes of emptiness are my fare,
From day to day.”
“Where is thy patience, O My Queen?Let Thy sorrow be sore as it may,I heal it as if it never had been,When I speak, it has passed away.My riches of glory for ever are thine,Thy might has prevailed over Me,For I love thee for ever with love divine;If thou hast the token, the gold is Mine,And I weigh full measure to thee.For all things renounced, and for all things wrought,All sorrow, and all endeavour,I give thee beyond all desire or thought,For I give thee Myself for ever.”
“Where is thy patience, O My Queen?
Let Thy sorrow be sore as it may,
I heal it as if it never had been,
When I speak, it has passed away.
My riches of glory for ever are thine,
Thy might has prevailed over Me,
For I love thee for ever with love divine;
If thou hast the token, the gold is Mine,
And I weigh full measure to thee.
For all things renounced, and for all things wrought,
All sorrow, and all endeavour,
I give thee beyond all desire or thought,
For I give thee Myself for ever.”
He comes to me in silent hours,As morning dew to summer flowers.
He comes to me in silent hours,
As morning dew to summer flowers.
O sweet enfolding in the Arms divine,O blessed Vision, welcome passing sweet,I bow beneath the joy that I am Thine,A weight of gladness cast I at Thy feet.O heights of God! within Thy clefts I hide,The home where dove and nightingale abide.
O sweet enfolding in the Arms divine,
O blessed Vision, welcome passing sweet,
I bow beneath the joy that I am Thine,
A weight of gladness cast I at Thy feet.
O heights of God! within Thy clefts I hide,
The home where dove and nightingale abide.
“All hail, My dove! on earth belowThou hast roamed afar and long,Until should grow the strong swift wings,That should bear Thee aloft from thy wanderingsTo the rest and song.”
“All hail, My dove! on earth below
Thou hast roamed afar and long,
Until should grow the strong swift wings,
That should bear Thee aloft from thy wanderings
To the rest and song.”
O blessed God, who pourest forth Thy store;O God, whose love flows on for evermore;O God, whose longing burns eternally;O God, in whom I dwell, whose dwelling is in me;O God, whose rest is in my love—In Thee alone I live and move.
O blessed God, who pourest forth Thy store;
O God, whose love flows on for evermore;
O God, whose longing burns eternally;
O God, in whom I dwell, whose dwelling is in me;
O God, whose rest is in my love—
In Thee alone I live and move.
“When mine eyes are dim with weeping,And my tongue with grief is dumb;And it is as if Thou wert sleepingWhen my heart calleth, ‘Come;’When I hunger with bitter hunger,O Lord, for Thee.Where art Thou, then, Belovèd?Speak, speak to me.”“I am where I was in the ancient days,I in Myself must be;In all things I am, and in every place,For there is no change in Me.Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above,[8]For thee, O Mine own, I wait;I wait for thee in the garden of love,Till thou comest irradiateWith the light that shines from My Face divine,And I pluck the flowers for thee;They are thine, belovèd, for they are Mine,And thou art one with Me.In the tender grass by the waters still,I have made thy resting-place;Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will,And sure in My changeless grace.And I bend for thee the holy Tree,Where blossoms the mystic Rod;The highest of all the trees that beIn the Paradise of God.And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat,Of the Life that is in Me;Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat,And passing fair to see.There overshadowed by mighty wingsOf the Holy Spirit’s peace,Beyond the sorrow of earthly things,The toil and the tears shall cease.And there beneath the eternal Tree,I will teach thy lips to singThe sweet new song that no man knowsIn the land of his banishing.They follow the Lamb where’er He goes,To whom it is revealed;The pure and the undefiled are those,The ransomed and the sealed.Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare,And thou shalt sing as they,Not only there in My garden fair,But here, belovèd, to-day.”
“When mine eyes are dim with weeping,
And my tongue with grief is dumb;
And it is as if Thou wert sleeping
When my heart calleth, ‘Come;’
When I hunger with bitter hunger,
O Lord, for Thee.
Where art Thou, then, Belovèd?
Speak, speak to me.”
“I am where I was in the ancient days,
I in Myself must be;
In all things I am, and in every place,
For there is no change in Me.
Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above,[8]
For thee, O Mine own, I wait;
I wait for thee in the garden of love,
Till thou comest irradiate
With the light that shines from My Face divine,
And I pluck the flowers for thee;
They are thine, belovèd, for they are Mine,
And thou art one with Me.
In the tender grass by the waters still,
I have made thy resting-place;
Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will,
And sure in My changeless grace.
And I bend for thee the holy Tree,
Where blossoms the mystic Rod;
The highest of all the trees that be
In the Paradise of God.
And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat,
Of the Life that is in Me;
Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat,
And passing fair to see.
There overshadowed by mighty wings
Of the Holy Spirit’s peace,
Beyond the sorrow of earthly things,
The toil and the tears shall cease.
And there beneath the eternal Tree,
I will teach thy lips to sing
The sweet new song that no man knows
In the land of his banishing.
They follow the Lamb where’er He goes,
To whom it is revealed;
The pure and the undefiled are those,
The ransomed and the sealed.
Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare,
And thou shalt sing as they,
Not only there in My garden fair,
But here, belovèd, to-day.”