HERE FOLLOWETH A DEVOUT TREATISE COMPILED BY MASTER WALTER HYLTON OF THE SONG OF ANGELS
DEAR brother in Christ, I have understanding by thine own speech, and also by telling of another man, that thou yearnest and desirest greatly for to have more knowledge and understanding than thou hast of angel's song and heavenly sound; what it is, and on what wise it is perceived and felt in a man's soul, and how a man may be siker that it is true and not feigned; and how it is made by the presence of the good angel, and not by the inputting of the evil angel. These things thou wouldest wete of me; but, soothly, I cannot tell thee for a surety the soothfastness of this matter; nevertheless somewhat, as me thinketh, I shall shew thee in a short word.
Wete thou well that the end and the sovereignty of perfection standeth in very onehead[154] of God and of a man's soul by perfect charity. This onehead, then, is verily made when the mights of the soul are reformed by grace to the dignity and the state of the first condition; that is, when the mind is stabled sadly,[155] without changing and vagation,[156] in God and ghostly things, and when the reason is cleared from all worldly and fleshly beholdings, and from all bodily imaginations, figures, and fantasies of creatures, and is illumined by grace to behold God and ghostly things, and when the will and the affection is purified and cleansed from all fleshly, kindly, and worldly love, and is inflamed with brenning love of the Holy Ghost. This wonderful onehead may not be fulfilled[157] perfectly, continually, and wholly in this life, for the corruption of the flesh, but only in the bliss of heaven. Nevertheless, the nearer that a soul in this present life may come to this onehead, the more perfect it is. For the more that it is reformed by grace to the image and the likeness of its Creator here on this wise; the more joy and bliss shall it have in heaven. Our Lord God is an endless being without changing, almighty without failing, sovereign wisdom, light, soothness without error or darkness; sovereign goodness, love, peace, and sweetness. Then the more that a soul is united, fastened, conformed, and joined to our Lord, the more stable and mighty it is, the more wise and clear, good and peaceable, loving and more virtuous it is, and so it is more perfect. For a soul that hath by the grace of Jesu, and long travail of bodily and ghostly exercise, overcome and destroyed concupiscences, and passions, and unskilful stirrings[158] within itself, and without in the sensuality, and is clothed all in virtues, as in meekness and mildness, in patience and softness, in ghostly strength and righteousness, in continence, in wisdom, in truth, hope and charity; then it is made perfect, as it may be in this life. Much comfort it receiveth of our Lord, not only inwardly in its own privy substance,[159] by virtue of the onehead to our Lord that lieth in knowing and loving of God, in light and ghostly brenning of Him, in transforming of the soul in to the Godhead; but also many other comforts, savours, sweetnesses, and wonderful feelings on sere[160] or sundry manners, after that our Lord vouchethsafe to visit His creatures here in earth, and after that the soul profiteth and waxeth in charity. Some soul, by virtue of charity that God giveth it, is so cleansed, that all creatures, and all that he heareth, or seeth, or feeleth by any of his wits, turneth him to comfort and gladness; and the sensuality receiveth new savour and sweetness in all creatures.[161] And right as beforetime the likings in the sensuality were fleshly, vain, and vicious, for the pain of the original sin; right so now they are made ghostly and clean, without bitterness and biting of conscience. And this is the goodness of our Lord, that sith the soul is punished in the sensuality, and the flesh is partner of the pain, that afterward the soul be comforted in the sensuality, and the flesh be fellow of joy and comfort with the soul, not fleshly, but ghostly, as he was fellow in tribulation and pain. This is the freedom and the lordship, the dignity, and the worship that a man[162] hath over all creatures, the which dignity he may so recover by grace here, that every creature savour to him as it is. And that is, when by grace he seeth, he heareth, he feeleth only God in all creatures. On this manner of wise a soul is made ghostly in the sensuality by abundance of charity, that is, in the substance of the soul. Also, our Lord comforteth a soul by angel's song. What that song is, it may not be described by no bodily likeness, for it is ghostly, and above all manner of imagination and reason. It may be felt and perceived in a soul, but it may not be shewed. Nevertheless, I shall speak thereof to thee as me thinketh. When a soul is purified by the love of God, illumined by wisdom, stabled by the might of God, then is the eye of the soul opened to behold ghostly things, as virtues and angels and holy souls, and heavenly things.[163] Then is the soul able because of cleanness to feel the touching, the speaking of good angels. This touching and speaking, it is ghostly and not bodily.[164] For when the soul is lifted and ravished out of the sensuality, and out of mind of any earthly things, then in great fervour of love and light (if our Lord vouchsafe) the soul may hear and feel heavenly sound, made by the presence of angels in loving of God. Not that this song of angels is the sovereign joy of the soul; but for the difference that is between a man's soul in flesh and an angel, because of uncleanness, a soul may not hear it, but by ravishing in love, and needeth for to be purified well clean, and fulfilled of much charity, or[165] it were able for to hear heavenly sound. For the sovereign and the essential joy is in the love of God by Himself and for Himself, and the secondary is in communing and beholding of angels and ghostly creatures. For right as a soul, in understanding of ghostly things, is often times touched and moved through bodily imagination by working of angels; as Ezekiel the prophet did see in bodily imagination the soothfastness of God's privities;[166] right so, in the love of God, a soul by the presence of angels is ravished out of mind of all earthly and fleshly things in to an heavenly joy, to hear angel's song and heavenly sound, after that the charity is more or less.[167] Now, then, me thinketh that there may no soul feel verily angel's song nor heavenly sound, but he be in perfect charity; though all that are in perfect charity have not felt it, but only that soul that is so purified in the fire of love that all earthly savour is brent out of it, and all mean letting[168] between the soul and the cleanness of angels is broken and put away from it. Then soothly may he sing a new song, and soothly he may hear a blessed heavenly sound, and angel's song without deceit or feigning. Our Lord woteth there that soul is that, for abundance of brenning love, is worthy to hear angel's song. Who so then will hear angel's song, and not be deceived by feigning of himself, nor by imagination, nor by the illusion of the enemy, him behoveth for to have perfect charity; and that is when all vain love and dread, vain joy and sorrow, is cast out of the heart, so that it love nothing but God, nor dread nothing but God, nor joyeth, nor sorroweth nothing but in God, or for God. Who so might by the grace of God go this way, he should not err. Nevertheless, some men are deceived by their own imagination, or by the illusion of the enemy in this manner.[169] Some man, when he hath long travailed bodily and ghostily in destroying of sins and getting of virtues, and peradventure hath gotten by grace a somedeal[170] rest, and a clarity in conscience, anon he leaveth prayers, readings of holy scriptures, and meditations of the passion of Christ, and the mind of his wretchedness; and, or[171] he be called of God, he gathereth his own visits by violence to seek and to behold heavenly things, or his eye be made ghostly by grace, and overtravaileth by imaginations his wits, and by indiscreet travailing turneth the brains in his head, and forbreaketh[172] the mights and the wits of the soul and of the body. And then, for feebleness of the brain, him thinketh that he heareth wonderful sounds and songs; and that is nothing else but a fantasy, caused of troubling of the brain; as a man that is in a frenzy him thinketh that he heareth and seeth that none other man doth; and all is but vanity and fantasies of the head, or else it is by working of the wicked enemy that feigneth such sounds in his hearing.
For if a man have any presumption in his fantasies and in his workings, and thereby falleth in to indiscreet imagination, as it were in a frenzy, and is not ordered nor ruled of grace, nor comforted by ghostly strength, the devil entereth in, and by his false illuminations, and by his false sounds, and by his false sweetnesses, he deceiveth a man's soul.
And of this false ground springeth errors, and heresies, false prophecies, presumptions, and false reasonings, blasphemings, and slanderings, and many other mischiefs. And, therefore, if thou see any man ghostly occupied fall in any of these sins and these deceits, or in frenzies, wete thou well that he never heard nor felt angel's song nor heavenly sound. For, soothly, he that heareth verily angel's song, he is made so wise that he shall never err by fantasy, nor by indiscretion, nor by no slight[173] of working of the devil.
Also, some men feel in their hearts as it were a ghostly sound, and sweet songs in divers manners; and this is commonly good, and sometime it may turn to deceit. This sound is felt on this wise. Some man setteth the thought of his heart only in the name of Jesu, and steadfastly holdeth it thereto, and in short time him thinketh that that name turneth him to great comfort and sweetness, and him thinketh that the name soundeth in his heart delectably, as it were a song; and the virtue of this liking is so mighty, that it draweth in all the wits of the soul thereto. Who so may feel this sound and this sweetness verily in his heart, wete thou well that it is of God,[174] and, as long as he is meek, he shall not be deceived. But this is not angel's song; but it is a song of the soul by virtue of the name and by touching of the good angel.[175] For when a soul offereth him to Jesu truly and meekly, putting all his trust and his desire in Him, and busily keepeth Him in his mind, our Lord Jesu, when He will, pureth[176] the affection of the soul, and filleth it, and feedeth it with sweetness of Himself, and maketh His name in the feeling of the soul[177] as honey, and as song, and as any thing that is delectable; so that it liketh the soul evermore for to cry Jesu, Jesu. And not only he hath comfort in this, but also in psalms and hymns, and anthems of holy Church, that the heart singeth them sweetly, devoutly, and freely, without any travail of the soul, or bitterness in the same time,[178] and notes that holy Church useth. This is good, and of the gift of God, for the substance of this feeling lies in the love of Jesu, which is fed and lightened[179] by such manner of songs. Nevertheless, in this manner of feeling, a soul may be deceived by vain glory; not in that time that the affection singeth to Jesu, and loveth Jesu in sweetness of Him, but afterward, when it ceaseth and the heart keeleth[180] of the love of Jesu, then entereth in vain glory. Also some man is deceived on this wise: he heareth well say that it is good to have Jesu in his mind, or any other good word of God; then he straineth his heart mightily to that name, and by a custom he hath it nearhand alway in his mind; and, nevertheless, he feeleth not thereby in his affection sweetness, nor light of knowing in his reason, but only a naked mind of God,[181] or of Jesu, or of Mary, or of any other good word. Here may be deceit, not for it is evil for to have Jesu in mind on this wish but if he this feeling and this mind, that is only his own working by custom, hold it a special visitation of our Lord,[182] and think it more than it is. For wete thou well that a naked mind or a naked imagination of Jesu, or of any ghostly thing, without sweetness of love in the affection, or without light of knowing in reason, it is but a blindness, and a way to deceit, if a man hold it in his own sight more than it is. Therefore I hold it siker[183] that he be meek in his own feeling, and hold this mind in regard nought, till he may, by custom and using of this mind, feel the fire of love in his affection, and the light of knowing in his reason. Lo, I have told thee in this matter a little, as me thinketh; not affirming that this sufficeth, nor that this is the soothfastness in this matter. But if thou think it otherwise, or else any other man savour by grace the contrary hereto, I leave this saying, and give stead to him; it sufficeth to me for to live in truth[184] principally, and not in feeling.
EXPLICIT
HERE AFTER FOLLOWETH A DEVOUT TREATISE CALLED THE EPISTLE OF PRAYER
GHOSTLY friend in God, as touching thine asking of me, how thou shalt rule thine heart in the time of thy prayer, I answer unto thee thus feebly as I can. And I say that me thinketh that it should be full speedful unto thee at the first beginning of thy prayer, what prayer so ever it be, long or short, for to make it full known unto thine heart, without any feigning, that thou shalt die at the end of thy prayer.[185] And wete thou well that this is no feigned thought that I tell thee, and see why; for truly there is no man living in this life that dare take upon him to say the contrary: that is to say, that thou shalt live longer than thy prayer is in doing. And, therefore, thou mayst think it safely, and I counsel thee to do it. For, if thou do it, thou shalt see that, what for the general sight that thou hast of thy wretchedness, and this special sight of the shortness of time of amendment, it shall bring in to thine heart a very working of dread.
And this working shalt thou feel[186] verily folden in thine heart, but if it so be (the which God forbid) that thou flatter and fage[187] thy false fleshly blind heart with leasings[188] and feigned behightings, that thou shalt longer live.[189] For though it may be sooth in thee in deed that thou shalt live longer, yet it is ever in thee a false leasing for to think it before, and for to behight[190] it to thine heart. For why, the soothfastness of this thing is only in God, and in thee is but a blind abiding of His will, without certainty of one moment, the which is as little or less than a twinkling of an eye. And, therefore, if thou wilt pray wisely as the prophet biddeth when he saith in the psalm: Psallite sapienter;191 look that thou get thee in the beginning this very working of dread. For, as the same prophet saith in another psalm: Initium sapientiae timor Domini;192 that is: "The beginning of wisdom is the dread of our Lord God." But for that there is no full sikerness standing[193] upon dread only, for fear of sinking in to over much heaviness, therefore shalt thou knit to thy first thought this other thought that followeth. Thou shalt think steadfastly that if thou may, through the grace of God, distinctly pronounce the words of that prayer, and win to the end thereof, or if thou die before thou come to the end, so that thou do that in thee is, that then it shall be accepted of thee unto God, as a full aseeth[194] of all thy recklessness from the beginning of thy life unto that moment. I mean thus: standing that thou hast before time, after thy conning and thy conscience, lawfully amended thee after the common ordinance of holy Church in confession; this short prayer, so little as it is, shall be accepted of thee unto God for thy full salvation, if thou then didst die, and to the great increase of thy perfection, if thou didst live longer. This is the goodness of God, the which, as the prophet saith, forsaketh none that truly trusteth in Him with will of amendment;[195] and sith that all amendment standeth in two—that is, in leaving of evil and doing of good—means to get these two are none readier than the ghostly working of these two thoughts touched before. For what reaveth from a soul[196] more readily the affection of sinning, than doth a true working of dread of death? And what moveth a soul[197] more fervently to working of good, than doth a certain hope in the mercy and the goodness of God, the which is brought in by this second thought? For why, the ghostly feeling of this second thought, when it is thus truly joined to the first, shall be to thee a sure staff of hope to hold thee by in all thy good doings. And by this staff thou mayst sikerly climb in to the high mount of perfection, that is to say, to the perfect love of God; though all this beginning be imperfect, as thou shalt hear after. For, what for the general sight that thou hast of the mercy and of the goodness of God, and this special experience that thou feelest of His mercy and His goodness in this acceptation of this little short service for so long recklessness, as it were in a full aseeth of so much recklessness (as it is said before), it may not be but that thou shalt feel a great stirring of love unto Him that is so good and so merciful unto thee—as the steps of thy staff, hope, plainly sheweth unto thee in the time of thy prayer, if thou do it duly as I have told thee before.[198] The ghostly experience of the proof of this working standeth all in a reverent affection that a man hath to God in the time of his prayer, caused of this dread in the ground of this work, and of this stirring of love, the which is brought in by the ghostly steps of this staff hope, touched before. For why, reverence is nought else but dread and love medled together with a staff of certain hope,
Me thinketh that the proof of this working is devotion; for devotion is nought else, as saint Thomas the doctor saith, but a readiness of man's will to do those things that longeth to the service of God.[199] Each man prove in himself, for he that doth God's service in this manner, he feeleth how ready that his will is thereto. Me thinketh that saint Bernard accordeth to this working, where he saith that all things should be done swiftly and gladly. And see why: swiftly for dread, and gladly for hope, and lovely trust in His mercy. [And what more? Sikerly, I had lever have his meed that lasteth in such doing, though all he never did bodily penance in this life, but only that that is enjoined to him of holy Church, than of all the penance-doers that have been in this life from the beginning of the world unto this day without this manner of doing. I say not that the naked thinking of these two thoughts is so meedful; but that reverent affection, to the which bringing in these two thoughts are sovereign means on man's party, that is it that is so meedful as I say.[200]] And this is only it by itself, without any other manner of doing (as is fasting, waking, sharp wearing, and all these other), the which only by itself pleaseth almighty God, and deserveth to have meed of Him. And it were impossible any soul to have meed of God without this, and all after the quantity of this shall stand the quantity of meed; for whoso hath much of this, much meed shall he have, and whoso hath less of this, less meed shall he have. And all these other things, as is fasting, waking, sharp wearing, and all these other, they are needful[201] in as much as they are helply to get this, so that without this they are nought. And this without them is sometime sufficient at the full by itself, and it is often times full worthily had and come to of full many without any of the others. All this I say for that I would by this knowing that thou charged and commended each thing after that it is: the more, "the more," and the less, "the less"; for oft times unknowing is cause of much error. And oft times unknowing maketh men to charge more and commend more bodily exercise (as is fasting, waking, sharp wearing, and all these others) than they do ghostly exercise in virtues or in this reverent affection touched before. And, therefore, in more declaration of the meed and the worthiness of this reverent affection, I shall say a little more than I yet have said, so that, by such declaring, thou mayst be better learned in this working than thou yet art.
All this manner of working beforesaid of this reverent affection, when it is brought in by these two thoughts of dread and of hope coming before, may well be likened to a tree that were full of fruit; of the which tree, dread is that party that is within in the earth, that is, the root. And hope is that party that is above the earth, that is, the body[202] with the boughs. In that that hope is certain and stable, it is the body; in that it stirreth men to works of love, it is the boughs; but this reverent affection is evermore the fruit, and then, evermore as long as the fruit is fastened to the tree,[203] it hath in party a green smell of the tree; but when it hath been a certain time departed from the tree and is full ripe, then it hath lost all the taste of the tree, and is king's meat [that was before but knave's meat].[204] In this time it is that this reverent affection is so meedful as I said. And, therefore, shape thee for to depart this fruit from the tree, and for to offer it up by itself to the high King of heaven; and then shalt thou be cleped God's own child, loving Him with a chaste love for Himself, and not for His goods.[205] I mean thus: though all that the innumerable good deeds, the which almighty God of His gracious goodness hath shewed to each soul in this life, be sufficient causes at the full and more, to each soul to love Him for, with all his mind, with all his wit, and with all his will; yet if it might be, that may no wise be, that a soul were as mighty, as worthy, and as witty as all the saints and angels that are in heaven gathered in one, and had never taken this worthiness of God,[206] or to whom that God had never shewed kindness in this life; yet this soul, seeing the loveliness of God in Himself, and the abundance thereof, should be ravished over his might for to love God, till the heart brast; so lovely and so liking, so good and so glorious He is in Himself.
O how wonderful a thing and how high a thing is the love of God for to speak of, of the which no man may speak perfectly to the understanding of the least party thereof, but by impossible ensamples, and passing the understanding of man! And thus it is that I mean when I say loving Him with a chaste love for Himself, and not for His goods;[207] not as if I said (though all I well said) much for His goods, but without comparison more for Himself. For, if I shall more highly speak in declaring of my meaning of the perfection and of the meed of this reverent affection, I say that a soul touched in affection by the sensible presence of Gods as He is in Himself, and in a perfect soul illumined in the reason, by the clear beam of everlasting light, the which is God, for to see and for to feel the loveliness[208] of God in Himself, hath for that time and for that moment lost all the mind of any good deed or of any kindness that ever God did to him in this life—so that cause for to love God for feeleth he or seeth he none in that time, other than is God Himself. So that though all it may be said in speaking of the common perfection, that the great goodness and the great kindness that God hath shewed to us in this life are high and worthy causes for to love God for; yet having beholding to the point and the prick of perfection (to the which I purpose to draw thee in my meaning, and in the manner of this writing), a perfect lover of God, for dread of letting[209] of his perfection, seeketh now, that is to say, in the point of perfection, none other cause for to love God for, but God Himself; so that by this meaning I say, that chaste love is to love God for Himself and not for His goods. And therefore, following the rule of mine ensample, shape thee to depart the fruit from the tree, and for to offer it up by itself unto the King of heaven, that thy love be chaste; for evermore as long as thou offrest Him this fruit green and hanging on the tree, thou mayst well be likened to a woman that is not chaste, for she loveth a man more for his goods than for himself. And see why that I liken thee thus; for it seemeth that dread of thy death and shortness of time, with hope of forgiveness of all thy recklessness, maketh thee to be in God's service so reverent as thou art. And if it so be, soothly then hath thy fruit a green smell of the tree; and though all it pleaseth God in party, nevertheless, yet it pleaseth Him not perfectly, and that is for thy love is not yet chaste.
Chaste love is that when thou askest of God neither releasing of pain, nor increasing of meed, nor yet sweetness in His love in this life; but if it be any certain time that thou covetest sweetness as for a refreshing of thy ghostly mights, that they fail not in the way; but thou askest of God nought but Himself, and neither thou reckest nor lookest after whether thou shalt be in pain or in bliss, so that thou have Him that thou lovest—this is chaste love, this is perfect love.[210] And therefore shape thee for to depart the fruit from the tree; that is to say, this reverent affection from the thoughts of dread and of hope coming before; so that thou mayst offer it ripe and chaste unto God by itself, not caused of any thing beneath Him, or medled with Him[211] (yea, though all it be the chief),[212] but only of Him, by Himself; and then it is so meedful as I say that it is. For it is plainly known without any doubt unto all those that are expert in the science of divinity and of God's love, that as often as a man's affection is stirred unto God without mean (that is, without messenger of any thought in special causing that stirring), as oft it deserveth everlasting life. And for that that a soul that is thus disposed (that is to say, that offreth the fruit ripe, and departed from the tree) may innumerable times in one hour be raised in to God suddenly without mean, therefore more than I can say it deserveth, through the grace of God, the which is the chief worker, to be raised in to joy. And therefore shape thee for to offer the fruit ripe and departed from the tree. Nevertheless, the fruit upon the tree, continually offered as man's frailty will suffer, deserveth salvation; but the fruit ripe and departed from the tree, suddenly offered unto God without mean, that is perfection. And here mayst thou see that the tree is good, though all that I bid thee depart the fruit therefrom, for more perfection; and therefore I set it in thy garden; for I would that thou should gather the fruit thereof, and keep it to thy Lord. And for that that I would that thou knew what manner of working it is that knitteth man's soul to God, and that maketh it one with Him in love and accordance of will,[213] after the word of saint Paul saying thus: Qui adhaeret Duo unus spiritus est cum illo;214 that is to say: "Who so draweth near to God," as it is by such a reverent affection touched before, "he is one spirit with God." That is, though all that God and he be two and sere[215] in kind, nevertheless yet in grace they are so knit together that they are but one in spirit;[216] and all this is for onehead of love and accordance of will; and in this onehead is the marriage made between God and the soul, the which shall never be broken, though all that the heat and the fervour of this work cease for a time, but by a deadly sin.
In the ghostly feeling of this onehead may a loving soul both say and sing (if it list) this holy word that is written in the book of songs in the Bible: Dilectus meus mihi et ego illi;217 that is: "My loved unto me and I unto Him"; understanden that God shall be knitted with the ghostly glue of grace on His party, and the lovely consent in gladness of spirit on thy party.
And therefore climb up by this tree, as I said in the beginning; and when thou comest to the fruit (that is, to the reverent affection, the which ever will be in thee if thou think heartily the other two thoughts before, and fage[218] not thyself with no lie, as I said), then shalt thou take good keep[219] of that working that is made in thy soul that time, and shape thee, in as much as thou mayst through grace, for to meek thee under the height of thy God, so that thou mayst use thee in that working other times by itself, without any climbing thereto by any thought. And, sikerly, this is it the which is so meedful as I said, and ever the longer that it is kept from the tree (that is to say, from any thought), and ever the ofter that it is done suddenly, lustily, and likingly, without mean, the sweeter it smelleth, and the better it pleaseth the high King of heaven. And ever when thou feelest sweetness and comfort in thy doing, then He breaketh this fruit and giveth thee part of thine own present. And that that thou feelest is so hard, and so straitly stressing thine heart without comfort in the first beginning, that bemeaneth[220] that the greenness of the fruit hanging on the tree, or else newly pulled, setteth thy teeth on edge. Nevertheless yet it is speedful to thee. For it is no reason that thou eat the sweet kernel, but if thou crack first the hard shell and bite of the bitter bark.
Nevertheless, if it so be that thy teeth be weak (that is to say, thy ghostly mights), then it is my counsel that thou seek slights, for better is list than lither strength.[221]
Another skill there is why that I set this tree in thy garden, for to climb up thereby. For though all it be so that God may do what He will, yet, to mine understanding, it is impossible any man to attain to the perfection of this working without these two means, or else other two that are according to them coming before. And yet is the perfection of this work sudden, without any mean. And, therefore, I rede[222] thee that these be thine, not thine in propriety, for that is nought but sin,[223] but thine given graciously of God, and sent by me as a messenger though I be unworthy; for wete thou right well that every thought that stirreth thee to the good,[224] whether it come from within by thine angel messenger, or from without by any man messenger, it is but an instrument of grace given, sent and chosen of God Himself for to work within in thy soul. And this is the skill why that I counsel thee to take these two thoughts before all others. For as man is a mingled thing of two substances, a bodily and a ghostly, so it needeth for to have two sere[225] means to come by to perfection;[226] sith it so is that both these substances shall be oned in undeadliness at the uprising in the last day; so that either substance be raised to perfection in this life, by a mean accordant thereto. And that is dread to bodily substance, and hope to the ghostly. And thus it is full seemly and according to be, as me thinketh; for as there is nothing that so soon will ravish the body from all affection of earthly things, as will a sensible dread of the death; so there is nothing that so soon nor so fervently will raise the affection of a sinner's soul, unto the love of God, as will a certain hope of forgiveness of all his recklessness. And therefore have I ordained thy climbing by these two thoughts; but if it so be that thy good angel teach thee within thy ghostly conceit, or any other man, any other two that are more according to thy disposition than thee thinketh these two be, thou mayst take them, and leave these safely without any blame. Nevertheless to my conceit (till I wete more) me thinketh that these should be full helply unto thee, and not much unaccording to thy disposition, after that I feel in thee. And therefore, if thou think that they do thee good, then thank God heartily, and for God's love pray for me. Do then so, for I am a wretch, and thou wotest not how it standeth with me.
No more at this time, but God's blessing have thou and mine.
Read often, and forget it not; set thee sharply to the proof; and flee all letting and occasion of letting, in the name of our Lord Jesu Christ. AMEN.
FINIS
HERE FOLLOWETH ALSO A VERY NECESSARY EPISTLE OF DISCRETION IN STIRRINGS OF THE SOUL
GHOSTLY friend in God, that same grace and joy that I will to myself, will I to thee at God's will. Thou askest me counsel of silence and of speaking, of common dieting and of singular fasting, of dwelling in company and only woning[227] by thyself. And thou sayest thou art in great were[228] what thou shalt do; for, as thou sayest, on the one party thou art greatly tarried with speaking, with common eating, as other folk do, and with common woning in company. And, on the other party, thou dreadest to be straitly still,[229] singular in fasting, and only in woning, for deeming of more holiness in thee than thou hast,[230] and for many other perils; for oft times now these days they are deemed for most holy, and fall in to many perils, that most are in silence, in singular fasting, and in only woning. And sooth it is that they are most holy, if grace only be the cause of that silence, of that singular fasting, and of that only woning, the kind[231] but suffering and only consenting; and if it be otherwise, then that is but peril on all sides, for it is full perilous to strain the kind to any such work of devotion, as is silence or speaking, common dieting or singular fasting, woning in company or in onliness.[232] I mean, passing the course and the common custom of kind and degree, but if it be led thereto by grace; and, namely, to such works the which in themself are indifferent, that is to say, now good, and now evil, now with thee, now against thee, now helping, and now letting. For it might befall that, if thou followed thy singular stirring, straitly straining thee to silence, to singular fasting, or to only woning, that thou shouldest oft times be still when time were to speak, oft times fast when time were to eat, oft times be only when time were to be in company. Or if thou give thee to speaking always when thee list, to common eating, or to companious woning,[233] then peradventure thou shouldest sometime speak when time[234] were to be still, sometime eat when time were to fast, sometime be in company when time were to be only; and thus mightest thou lightly fall in to error, in great confusion, not only of thine own soul but also of others. And, therefore, in eschewing of such errors, thou askest of me (as I have perceived by thy letters) two things: the first is my conceit of thee, and thy stirring; and the other is my counsel in this case, and in all such others when they come.
As to the first, I answer and I say that I dread full much in this matter and such others to put forth my rude conceit, such as it is, for two skills.[235] And one is this: I dare not lean to my conceit, affirming it for fast and true. The other is thine inward disposition, and thine ableness that thou hast unto all these things that thou speakest of in thy letter, which be not yet so fully known unto me, as it were speedful that they were, if I should give full counsel in this case. For it is said of the Apostle: Nemo novit quae sunt hominis, nisi spiritus hominis qui in ipso est; "No man knoweth which are the privy dispositions of man, but the spirit of the same man, the which is in himself";[236] and, peradventure, thou knowest not yet thine own inward disposition thyself, so fully as thou shalt do hereafter, when God will let thee feel it by the proof, among many failings and risings. For I knew never yet no sinner that might come to the perfect knowing of himself and of his inward disposition, but if he were learned of it before in the school of God, by experience of many temptations, and by many failings and risings; for right as among the waves and the floods and the storms of the sea, on the one party, and the peaceable wind and the calms and the soft weathers of the air on the other party, the sely[237] ship at the last attains to the land and the haven; right so, among the diversity of temptations and tribulations that falleth to a soul in this ebbing and flowing life (the which are ensampled by the storms and the floods of the sea) on the one party, and among the grace and the goodness of the Holy Ghost, the manyfold visitation, sweetness and comfort of spirit (the which are ensampled by the peaceable wind and the soft weathers of the air) on the other party, the sely soul, at the likeness of a ship, attaineth at the last to the land of stableness, and to the haven of health; the which is the clear and the soothfast knowing of himself, and of all his inward dispositions, through the which knowing he sitteth quietly in himself, as a king crowned in his royalme, mightily, wisely, and goodly governing himself and all his thoughts and stirrings, both in body and in soul. Of such a man it is that the wise man saith thus: Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem, quoniam cum probatus fuerit, accipiet coronam vitae, quam repromisit Deus diligentibus se: "He is a blissful man that sufferingly beareth temptation; for, from he have been proved, he shall take the crown of life, the which God hath hight to all those that love Him."[238] The crown of life may be said on two manners. One for ghostly wisdom, for full discretion, and for perfection of virtue: these three knitted together may be cleped[239] a crown of life, the which by grace may be come to here in this life. On another manner the crown of life may be said, that it is the endless joy that each true soul shall have, after this life, in the bliss of heaven, and, sikerly, neither of these two crowns may a man take, but if he before have been well proved in suffering of noye[240] and of temptation, as this text saith: Quoniam cum probatus fuerit, accipiet coronam vitae; that is: "From that he have been proved, then shall he take the crown of life";[241] as who saith (according to mine understanding touched before): But if a sinner have been proved before in divers temptations, now rising, now falling, falling by frailty, rising by grace, he shall never else take of God in this life ghostly wisdom in clear knowing of himself and of his inward dispositions, nor full discretion in counselling and teaching of others, nor yet the third, the which is the perfection of virtue in loving of his God and of his brethren. All these three—wisdom, discretion, and perfection of virtue-are but one, and they may be cleped the crown of life.
In a crown are three things: gold is the first; precious stones are the second; and the turrets of the flower-de-luce, raised up above the head, those are the third. By gold, wisdom; by the precious stones, discretion; and by the turrets of the flower-de-luce I understand the perfection of virtue. Gold environeth the head, and by wisdom we govern our ghostly work on every side; precious stones giveth light in beholding of men, and by discretion we teach and counsel our brethren; the turrets of the flower-de-luce giveth two side branches spreading one to the right side and another to the left, and one even up above the head, and by perfection of virtues (the which is charity) we give two side branches of love, the which are spreading, one to the right side to our friends, and one to the left side to our enemies, and one even up unto God, above man's understanding, the which is the head of the soul. This is the crown of life the which by grace may be gotten here in this life; and, therefore, bear thee low in thy battle, and suffer meekly thy temptations till thou have been proved. For then shalt thou take either the one crown, or the other, or both, this here, and the other there; for who so hath this here, he may be full siker of the other there; and full many there are that are full graciously proved here, and yet come never to this that may be had here in this life. The which (if they meekly continue and patiently abide the will of our Lord) shall full worthily and abundantly receive the other there, in the high bliss of heaven. Thee thinketh this crown fair that may be had here; yea, bear thee as meekly as thou mayst by grace, for in comparison of the other there, it is but as one noble to a world full of gold. All this I say to give thee comfort and evidence of strength in thy ghostly battle, the which thou hast taken on hand in the trust of our Lord, and all this I say to let thee see how far thou art yet from the true knowing of thine inward disposition, and thereafter to give thee warning, not over soon to give stead[242] nor to follow the singular stirrings of thy young heart, for dread of deceit.
All this I say for to show unto thee my conceit that I have of thee and of thy stirrings, as thou hast asked of me; for I conceive of thee that thou art full able and full greatly disposed to such sudden stirrings of singular doings,[243] and full fast to cleave unto them when they be received; and that is full perilous. I say not that this ableness and this greedy disposition in thee, or in any other that is disposed as thou art, though all it be perilous, that it is therefore evil in itself; nay, so say I not, God forbid that thou take it so; but I say that it is full good in itself, and a full great ableness to full great perfection, yea, and to the greatest perfection that may be in this life; I mean, if that a soul that is so disposed will busily, night and day, meek it[244] to God and to good counsel, and strongly rise and martyr itself, with casting down of the own wit and the own will in all such sudden and singular stirrings, and say sharply that it will not follow such stirrings, seem they never so liking,[245] so high nor so holy, but if it have thereto the witness[246] and the consents of some ghostly teachers—I mean such as have been of long time expert in singular living. Such a soul, for ghostly continuance thus in this meekness, may deserve, through grace and the experience of this ghostly battle thus with itself, for to take the crown of life touched before. And as great an ableness to good as is this manner of disposition in a soul that is thus meeked as I say, as perilous it is in another soul, such one that will suddenly, without advisement of counsel, follow the stirrings of the greedy heart, by the own wit and the own will; and therefore, for God's love, beware with this ableness and with this manner of disposition (that I speak of), if it be in thee as I say. And meek thee continually to prayer and to counsel. Break down thine own wit and thy will in all such sudden and singular stirrings, and follow them not over lightly, till thou wete whence they come, and whether they be according for thee or not.
And as touching these stirrings of the which thou askest my conceit and my counsel, I say to thee that I conceive of them suspiciously, that is, that[247] they should be conceived on the ape's manner. Men say commonly that the ape doth as he seeth others do; forgive me if I err in my suspicion, I pray thee. Nevertheless, the love that I have to thy soul stirreth me by evidence that I have of a ghostly brother of thine and of mine, touched with those same stirrings of full great[248] silence, of full singular fasting, and of full only woning, on ape's manner, as he granted unto me after long communing with me, and when he had proved himself and his stirrings. For, as he said, he had seen a man in your country, the which man, as it is well known, is evermore in great silence, in singular fasting, and in only dwelling; and certes, as I suppose fully, they are full true stirrings those that that man hath, caused all only of grace, that he feeleth by experience within, and not of any sight or heard say that he hath of any other man's silence without-the which cause if it were, it should be cleped apely, as I say in my simple meaning. And therefore beware, and prove well thy stirrings, and whence they come; for how so thou art stirred, whether from within by grace, or from without on ape's manner, God wote, and I not. Nevertheless this may I say thee in eschewing of perils like unto this: look that thou be no ape, that is to say, look that thy stirrings to silence or to speaking, to fasting or to eating, to onliness or to company, whether they be come from within of abundance of love and of devotion in the spirit and not from without by the windows of thy bodily wits, as thine ears, and thine eyes. For, as Jeremiah saith plainly, by such windows cometh in death: Mors intrat per fenestras.249 And this sufficeth, as little as it is, for answer to the first, where thou askest of me, what is my conceit of thee, and of these stirrings that thou speakest of to me in thy letter.
And touching the second thing, where thou askest of me my counsel in this case, and in such other when they fall, I beseech almighty Jesu (as He is cleped the angel of great counsel) that He of His mercy be thy counsellor and thy comforter in all thy noye and thy nede, and order me with His wisdom to fulfil in party by my teaching, so simple as it is, the trust of thine heart, the which thou hast unto me before many others—a simple lewd[250] wretch as I am, unworthy to teach thee or any other, for littleness of grace and for lacking of conning. Nevertheless, though I be lewd, yet shall I somewhat say, answering to thy desire at my simple conning, with a trust in God that His grace shall be learner and leader when conning of kind and of clergy defaileth.[251] Thou wotest right well thyself that silence in itself nor speaking, also singular fasting nor common dieting, onliness nor company, all these nor yet any of them be not the true end of our desire; but to some men (and not to all) they are means helping to the end, if they be done lawfully and with discretion, and else are they more letting than furthering. And therefore plainly[252] to speak, nor plainly to be still, plainly to eat, nor plainly to fast, plainly to be in company, or plainly to be only, think I not to counsel thee at this time; for why, perfection standeth not in them. But this counsel may I give thee generally, to hold thee by in these stirrings, and in all other like unto these; evermore where thou findest two contraries, as are these—silence and speaking, fasting and eating, onliness and company, common clothing of Christian religion and singular habits of divers and devised brotherhoods, with all such other what so they be, the which in themself are but works of kind[253] and of men. For thou hast it by kind and by statute of thine outer man now for to speak and now for to be still, now for to eat and now for to fast, now for to be in company and now to be only, now to be common in clothing and now to be in singular habit, ever when thee list, and when thou seest[254] that any of them should be speedful and helply to thee in nourishing of the heavenly grace working within in thy soul; but if it be so (which God forbid), that thou or any other be so lewd and so blinded in the sorrowful temptations of the midday devil, that ye bind you by any crooked avow to any such singularities, as it were under colour of holiness feigned under such an holy thraldom,[255] in full and final destroying of the freedom of Christ, the which is the ghostly habit of the sovereign holiness that may be in this life, or in the other, by the witness of saint Paul saying thus: Ubi spiritus Domini, ibi libertas: "There where the spirit of God is, there is freedom."[256] And thereto when thou seest that all such works in their use may be both good and evil; I pray thee leave them both, for that is the most ease for thee for to do, if thou wilt be meek, and leave the curious beholding and seeking in thy wits to look whether is better. But do thou thus: set the one on the one hand, and the other on the other, and choose thee a thing the which is hid between them; the which thing, when it is had, giveth thee leave in freedom of spirit to begin and to cease in holding any of the others at thine own full list, without any blame.
But now thou askest me, what is that thing. I shall tell thee what I mean that it is: It is God; for whom thou shouldest be still, if thou shouldest be still; and for whom thou shouldest speak if thou shouldest speak; and for whom thou shouldest fast, if thou shouldest fast; and for whom thou shouldest eat, if thou shouldest eat; and for whom thou shouldest be only, if thou shouldest be only; and for whom thou shouldest be in company, if thou shouldest be in company. And so forth of all the remenant, what so they be. For silence is not God, nor speaking is not God; fasting is not God, nor eating is not God; onliness is not God, nor company is not God; nor yet any of all the other such two contraries. He is hid between them, and may not be found by any work of thy soul, but all only by love of thine heart. He may not be known by reason, He may not be gotten by thought, nor concluded by understanding; but He may be loved and chosen with the true lovely will of thine heart.[257] Choose thee Him, and thou art silently speaking, and speakingly silent, fastingly eating, and eatingly fasting, and so forth of all the remenant. Such a lovely choosing of God, thus wisely lesinge[258] and seeking Him out with the true will of a clean heart, between all such two leaving them both, when they come and proffer them to be the point and the prick of our ghostly beholding, is the worthiest tracing and seeking of God that may be gotten or learned in this life. I mean for a soul that will be contemplative; yea, though all that a soul that thus seeketh see nothing that may be conceived with the ghostly eye of reason; for if God be thy love and thy meaning, the choice and the point of thine heart, it sufficeth to thee in this life (though all thou see never more of Him with the eyes of thy reason all thy life time). Such a blind shot with the sharp dart of longing love may never fail of the prick, the which is God, as Himself saith in the book of love, where He speaketh to a languishing soul and a loving, saying thus: Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea, amica mea, et sponsa mea, vulnerasti cor meum, in uno oculorum tuorum: "Thou hast wounded mine heart, my sister, my leman, and my spouse, thou hast wounded mine heart in one of thine eyes."[259] Eyes of the soul they are two: Reason and Love. By reason we may trace how mighty, how wise, and how good He is in His creatures, but not in Himself; but ever when reason defaileth, then list, love, live and learn, to play,[260] for by love we may feel Him, find Him, and hit Him, even in Himself. It is a wonderful eye, this love, for of a loving soul it is only said of our Lord: "Thou hast wounded mine heart in one of thine eyes"; that is to say, in love that is blind to many things, and seeth but that one thing that it seeketh, and therefore it findeth and feeleth, hitteth and woundeth the point and the prick that it shooteth at, well sooner than it should if the sight were sundry in beholding of many things, as it is when the reason ransacketh and seeketh among all such sere[261] things as are these: silence and speaking, singular fasting and common eating, onliness or company, and all such other; to look whether is better.
Let be this manner of doing, I pray thee, and let as thou wist not that there were any such means (I mean ordained for to get God by); for truly no more there is, if thou wilt be very contemplative and soon sped of thy purpose. And, therefore, I pray thee and other like unto thee, with the Apostle saying thus: Videte vocationem vestram, et in ea vocatione qua vocati estis state:262 "See your calling, and, in that calling that ye be called, stand stiffly and abide in the name of Jesu." Thy calling is to be very contemplative, ensampled by Mary Magdalene. Do then as Mary did, set the point of thine heart upon one thing: Porro unum est necessarium: "For one thing is necessary,"[263] the which is God. Him wouldest thou have, Him seekest thou, Him list thee to love, Him list thee to feel,[264] Him list thee hold thee by, and neither by silence nor by speaking, by singular fasting nor by common eating, by onliness nor by companious woning, by hard wearing nor by easy; for sometime silence is good, but that same time speaking were better; and againward sometime speaking is good, but that same time silence were better; and so forth of all the remenant, as is fasting, eating, onliness, and company; for sometime the one is good, but the other is better, but neither of them is at any time the best. And, therefore, let be good all that is good, and better all that is better,[265] for both they will defail and have an end; and choose thee the best with Mary, thy mirror, that never will defail: Maria (inquit optimam) optimam partem elegit, quae non auferetur ab ea.266 The best is almighty Jesu, and He said that Mary, in ensample of all contemplatives, had chosen the best, the which should never be taken from her; and therefore, I pray thee, with Mary leave the good and the better, and choose thee the best.
Let them be, all such things as are these: silence and speaking, fasting and eating, onliness and company, and all such other, and take no keep to them; thou wotest not what they mean, and, I pray thee, covet not to wit; and if thou shall at any time think or speak of them, think then and say that they are so high and so worthy things of perfection, for to conne[267] speak, or for to conne be still, for to conne fast, and for to conne eat, for to conne be only, and to conne be in company, that it were but a folly and a foul presumption to such a frail wretch as thou art, for to meddle thee of so great perfection. For why, for to speak, and for to be still, for to eat, and for to fast, for to be only, and for to be in company, ever when we will, may we have by kind; but for to conne do all these, we may not but by grace. And, without doubt, such grace is never gotten by any mean of such strait silence, of such singular fasting, or of such only dwelling that thou speakest of, the which is caused from without by occasion of hearing and of seeing of any other man's such singular doings. But if ever this grace shall be gotten, it behoveth to be learned of God from within, unto whom thou hast listily leaned many a day before with all the love of thine heart, utterly voiding from thy ghostly beholding[268] all manner of sight of any thing beneath Him; though all that some of those things that I bid thee thus void, should seem in the sight of some men a full worthy mean to get God by. Yea, say what men say will, but do thou as I say thee, and let the proof witness. For to him that will be soon sped of his purpose ghostly, it sufficeth to him for a mean, and him needeth no more, but the actual mind of good God only, with a reverent stirring of lasting love; so that mean unto God gettest thou none but God. If thou keep whole thy stirring of love that thou mayst feel by grace in thine heart, and scatter not thy ghostly beholding therefrom then that same that thou feelest shall well conne[269] tell thee when thou shalt speak and when thou shalt be still, and it shall govern thee discreetly in all thy living without any error, and teach thee mistily[270] how thou shalt begin and cease in all such doing of kind with a great and sovereign discretion. For if thou mayst by grace keep it in custom and in continual working, then, if it be needful or speedful to thee for to speak, for to commonly eat, or for to bide in company, or for to do any such other thing that longeth to the common true custom of Christian men, and of kind, it shall first stir thee full softly to speak or to do that other common thing of kind, what so it be. And then, if thou do it not, it shall strike as sore as a prick on thine heart and pain thee full sore, and let thee have no peace[271] but if thou do it. And, on the same manner, if thou be in speaking, or in any such other work that is common to the course of kind, if it be needful and speedful to thee to be still, and for to set thee to the contrary, as is onliness to company, fasting to eating, and all such other the which are works of singular holiness, it will stir thee to them; so that thus, by experience of such a blind stirring of love unto God, a contemplative soul cometh sooner to that grace of discretion for to conne speak, and for to conne be still, for to conne eat, and for to conne fast, for to conne be in company, and for to conne be only,[272] and all such other, than by any such singularities as thou speakest of, taken by the stirrings of man's own wit and his will within in himself, or yet by the ensample of any other man's doing without, what so it be. For why, such strained doings under the stirrings of kind, without touching[273] of grace, is a passing pain without any profit; but if it be to them that are religious, or that have them by enjoining of penance, where profit riseth only because of obedience, and not by any such straitness of doing without; the which is painful to all that it proveth. But lovely and listily to will to love[274] God is great and passing ease, true ghostly peace, and earnest of the endless rest. And, therefore, speak when thee list, and leave when thee list, eat when thee list, and fast when thee list, be in company when thee list, and be by thyself when thee list, so that[275] God and grace be thy leader. Let fast who fast will, and be only who will, and let hold silence who so will, but hold thee by God that doth beguile no man; for silence and speaking, onliness and company, fasting and eating, all may beguile thee. And if thou hear of any man that speaketh, or of any that is still, of any that eateth or of any that fasteth, or of any that is in company or else by himself, think thou, and say, if thee list, that they conne do as they should do, but if the contrary shew in apert.[276] But look that thou do not as they do (I mean for that they do so) on ape's manner; for neither thou canst, nor peradventure thou art not disposed as they are. And, therefore, leave to work after other men's dispositions and work after thine own, if thou mayst know what it is. And unto the time that thou mayst know what it is, work after those men's counsel that know their own disposition, but not after their disposition;[277] for such men should give counsel in such cases, and else none. And this sufficeth for an answer to all thy letter, as me thinketh; the grace of God be ever more with thee, in the name of Jesu. AMEN.
FINIT EPISTOLA