Chapter 2

I SUPPOSE that this recalls what the Bride had said in commendation of their couch, that it was decked with flowers. For, lest she should take to herself the praise of the flowers wherewith the couch is decked and the chamber adorned, the Bridegroom replies that He is Himself the Rose of the plain [of Sharon] ; that the flowers do not grow in the chamber, but in the plain, from which is derived their beauty and their fragrance. Lest, then, any should have it in their power to reproach His Bride, and to say to her : What hast thou which thou didst not receive ? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it ? ( 1 Cor. iv. 7) He Himself, as a solicitous lover and kindly censor, deigns to point out benignantly to His beloved to whom she ought to attribute the beauty and the fragrance of her couch in which she was glorying. I am the Rose of Sharon, He says ; it is to Me you owe that of which you boast. We are here warned, then, to our great benefit, that it behoves us by no means to glorify ourselves ; if any glory, let him glory in the Lord ( 2 Cor. x. 17) . So much with regard to the letter ; let us now examine, with the help of Him who is the subject of it, into the spiritual sense which it contains.

2. In the first place, notice that there are three conditions referred to in which a flower may be in the plain, in the garden, and on the couch : and then you will more easily understand why the speaker has chosen to call Himself, by preference, the Rose of the field of] Sharon. Flowers grow and bloom in fields and in gardens, but not in the chamber. There they show their beauty and exhale their fragrance, but not erect upon the stem, as in the place where they have grown : they are severed and prostrate, because they have not grown there, but have been brought. They have to be watered, and to be frequently renewed, because they do not long retain their beauty and freshness. If, as I have foreshown in another discourse, the couch strewn with flowers means the soul stored with good works, then, to maintain the same metaphor, you see clearly that it is not sufficient to do once or twice merely that which is right, but that it is needful to add new deeds of good constantly to the former, so that having sown deeds of blessing, you may reap blessings also. Otherwise the flowers of good works wither and fall, and [the adornment formed of them] speedily loses all beauty and strength, unless they are continually renewed by fresh blossoms of good works piled upon the old. Thus much as regards the chamber.

3. In the garden and in the plain it is not so. There flowers once produced are constantly nourished, and so are long maintained in the beauty natural to them. Yet there is this difference between them, that the garden, in order to produce flowers, needs the labour and the skill of man who cultivates it ; but the field produces its bloom naturally, and of its own accord, without any aid from the industry of man. Now, do you already perceive what is signified by that field, which, though neither furrowed by the ploughshare, nor broken by the hoe, nor enriched by manure, is yet rendered beautiful by its carpet of flowers, upon which, without doubt, rests a blessing from the Spirit of the Lord ? See, it is said in the Scripture, the smell of my son is as the smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed (Gen. xxvii . 27). That flower of the field was not as yet clad in its full beauty, yet it already exhaled fragrance, which the holy and aged Patriarch, though feeble in body, perceived beforehand in the spirit, as his joyful exclamation shows ; for though he was deprived of sight, its sweet scent was very apparent to him. It was not fitting, then, that the Bridegroom should call Himself a flower of the chamber, because He is a flower whose bloom is perpetual ; nor yet of the garden, lest He might seem to be engendered by the operation of man. But He says with the fullest fitness and grace : Iam the Rose of the field of Sharon ; for He appeared without any effort or cooperation of man, and when He had appeared He was at no time subject to corruption, according to the saying of the Prophet : Thou shalt not suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption ( Ps. xvi. 10) .

4. But let me, if you please, give you another explanation of this, which seems to me quite worth consideration ; for why has the Wise Man said that the Spirit manifests Himself in many forms, unless that He is wont frequently to hide under the bark, as it were, of the same text several and diverse spiritual senses ? According, then, to the division which I gave before of the various states of flowers , there are three distinct blooms-virginity, martyrdom, and a holy life.1 Virginity is the flower in the garden ; martyrdom that in the field ; a holy life that in the chamber. Rightly is virginity compared to a flower in the garden, inasmuch as it is nearly related to modesty-it flies from publicity, it rejoices in concealment, it is willing to endure rule and discipline. Furthermore, in a garden flowers are enclosed, while in the field they are open to the view of all, and in the chamber they are strewed or scattered. So we read : A garden enclosed, a fountain sealed ( Cant. iv. 12), which phrase expresses the bulwark of modesty, and the inviolate defence which preserves the sanctity of a virgin soul, provided that its sanctity is both in body and spirit. Martyrdom, again, is well said to be a flower of the field, since martyrs are exposed to the mockery of all, and made a spectacle both to Angels and men. Is not theirs the pitiable condition which is described in the Psalms ? We are become a reproach to our neighbours, a scorn and derision to them that are round about us (Ps. lxxix. 4) . 1 Actio bona. The good actions of a holy life, also, are well compared to flowers in a chamber, for they produce the testimony of a quiet and safe conscience. After a good work the repose of quiet contemplation is entered upon more securely ; and the more fully a man is conscious of not having been wanting through inertness or love of self in the performance of good works, the more confidence will he have in attempting to view and to investigate deeper and loftier truths.

5. In a certain sense all these things represent to us the Lord JESUS. He is the Flower of the garden, the Virgin Birth of a Virgin Mother, herself a shoot [from the stem of David] . He is the Flower of the field-a martyr, the pattern of martyrdom, and the crown of martyrs. He was led forth out of the city, He suffered ' without the camp, ' He was raised upon the Cross to be seen of men, He was made the object of universal scorn . He is the Flower of the chamber also ; the mirror and the model of every kind of beneficence, as He Himself declared in His protest to the Jews : Many good works have Ishowed you from My Father (John x. 32 ) ; and the Scripture also testifies ofHim : He went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed (Acts x. 38). If, then, each of these three represents the Lord, for what reason has He preferred to call Himself the Flower of the field only ? It was doubtless that He might encourage the Church, His Bride, to endure the persecution which He knew was impending over each soul which should desire to live godly in Christ JESUS. He does this that He may make it the better known in what He most desires to find imitators . It is because the Church, as I have said elsewhere, always desires repose and quiet, while He, on the contrary, urges her to earnest effort, forewarning her that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God (Acts xiv. 22). On which account also, when He had espoused to Himself the new Church which He had founded upon the earth, He said [to her members] : The time cometh that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service ( John xvi. 2) ; and again : If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you (xv. 20), and many other similar sayings, which you may easily find for yourselves in the Gospels, in which He warns them to be prepared to endure suffering.

6. I am the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the valleys. She then points to the couch ; but He summons her to the plain-that is , He excites her to vigorous effort. He regards it as the most persuasive argument possible to her to enter upon this struggle that He should propose Himself to her either as an example for one engaged in the struggle, or a reward for one that has overcome in it. The words may be understood in either of these two senses. Thou, O Lord JESUS, art to me both a mirror of endurance and the reward of enduring. The one is a powerful incentive ; the other a great encouragement. By the example of Thy valour Thou dost teach my hands to war ; by the Presence of Thy Majesty Thou dost crown me after the victory. Whether I view Thee as a combatant in the midst of the strife [with evil], or regard Thee as at once the Bestower of the crown of victory, and that crown itself; in either case Thou dost attract me wonderfully to Thyself ; in either capacity Thou art as a strong cable to draw me after Thee. ' Draw me ; we will run after Thee. ' Willingly do I follow ; more willingly still do I enjoy the fruits [ of obedience]. If Thou, O Lord, art so good to those who seek Thee, what shall Thy goodness be to those who find ? Iam the Flower of the field. Let him who loves Me come into the field ; let him not refuse to engage in the combat with Me and for Me, that he may have it in his power to say with St. Paul : Ihave fought a goodfight ( 2 Tim. iv. 7) .

7. And as it is not the proud and arrogant, but rather the humble, who do not presume that they are able to do anything as of themselves , that are really fit for martyrdom, so the Lord adds : Iam the Lily of the valleys-that is to say, the crown of the humble, wishing to mark by the commanding height of this flower over others, the special glory of their future exaltation. For there will be a time when every valley shallbe exalted, and every mountain andhill shallbe made low ( Is. xl. 4), and then shall appear that splendour ofeternal life-the lily, so to speak, not of the hills, but of the valleys. The righteous, says the prophet, shall grow as the lily ( Hos. xiv. 5) ; and who is righteous except he be humble ? Thus, when the Lord bent Himself to the hands of His servantJohn, and the Baptist was stricken with awe of His Majesty, the Lord said : Suffer it to be so now, for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness ( Matt. iii. 15), showing that He considered the consummation of righteousness to consist in perfect humility. The righteous man, then, is humble ; he is of the valley. And we also, if we are found humble, shall grow as the lily, and bloom for ever before the Lord. Shall he not, then, truly and completely show himself the lily of the valleys, when the Lord shall 1 Comp. the hymnJubilus Rhythmicus, De NomineJesu : ' Quam pius es petentibus Quam bonus Te quarentibus Sed quid invenientibus ?? change the body of our humility, and make it like unto the Body of His Glory ( Phil. iii. 21) ? He does not say ' our body, but ' the body of our humility' ; and thus signifies that it is only those who are humble who shall be rendered glorious with the wonderful and immortal splendour of that Divine Lily. Thus much, then, with regard to the words of the Bridegroom, in which He testifies that He is the Rose of the field of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys .

8. It would be interesting to go on here without a break to comment on what He says with regard to His Bride most dear ; but the time does not permit. For by our Rule ( Rule S. Bened. , c. 43 ) nothing must be preferred to ' the Service of God,' which is the name that our father Benedict desired to be given to the solemnities of Divine worship, which are offered day by day in our oratory, thus showing more clearly how desirous he was that we should apply ourselves with all our heart to that holy work. Therefore I warn and entreat you, beloved, always to occupy yourselves in the praises of God with pure hearts and earnest minds. With earnestness, so as to present yourselves at the worship of the Lord, as well with willingness and gladness, as with reverence ; not with laziness and sleepiness, not yawning, not keeping silence, not cutting your words short, or even passing over some altogether, not chanting through the nose or between the teeth, with broken and lowered voice, in a lazy and effeminate fashion, but pronouncing the words of the Holy Spirit with manly and earnest voices, which correspond with the dignity of the subjects of which they speak. And purely also that is to say, so as to occupy your thoughts while you are chanting with nothing else than the words which you are chanting. I do not refer only to the avoiding vain and idle thoughts ; those also should at that hour, and in that place at least, be repressed which relate to the duties and occupations which those brethren who are entrusted with various functions are obliged, at other times, for the common good, and, as it were, of necessity, to employ their thoughts upon. I do not counsel you to carry with you when you go into the choir even those thoughts which you have derived from the books which you have been recently reading while sitting in the cloister, or those which have come to you from my voice, in this lecture-hall (auditorio) of the Holy Spirit. They are, indeed, to edification ; but they do not edify you when you reflect upon them while you are chanting. For the Holy Spirit does not regard as acceptable that which you allow to obtrude at such an hour, which has no concern with your immediate duty, and occasions the neglect of a part of it. We are always capable, by His holy inspiration, of making our will conformable to His Divine Will ; through the grace and mercy of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord JESUS CHRIST, Who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN. 1 Operi Dei. 2 The brethren who were deputed to discharge various exterior duties are distinguished from the cloistered or choir brethren in Serm. IX. , De Diversis, n. 4, and farther on in Serm. LVII. , n. 11 .

THEY are not good daughters who, like thorns, pierce and trouble. Consider the evil race of plants which our earth produces, since it was cursed by sin. Thorns and thistles, saith the Scripture, shall it bringforth to thee ( Gen. iii. 18). As long as the soul is clothed in flesh, its course lies among thorns ; nor can it avoid having to bear the inquietude of temptations, and the sharp piercing of troubles. If the Bride is a lily, according to the words of the Bridegroom, let her understand with what vigilance and care she ought to watch over her conduct, surrounded as she is on all sides with thorns, of which the sharp points encounter her everywhere . For the tender substance of a flower is unable to endure the slightest puncture of a thorn without injury. Do you feel, then, with how great need and propriety the Psalmist exhorts us to serve the Lord withfear (Ps. ii. 11) ; and the Apostle also, when he bids us work out your own salvation with fear and trembling (Phil. ii. 12) ? They had learned the truth of that saying by their own experience as friends of the Bridegroom, whose course was full of difficulty, and believed that it applied truly to their souls : As a lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters . One of them, in fact, says : Iam turned in my anguish, while the thorn isfastened (Ps. xxxi. 4, Douay) . And it was well that he was thus pierced, since by the anguish of the wound he was turned to repentance. The piercing of the thorns is good for you if it brings you to repent. Many correct their fault when they feel the penalty of it ; and such may take these words for their own. A fault is a thorn, so also is its punishment ; and in like manner a false brother, or an evil neighbour, may be considered as a thorn.

2. As a lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters. O lily, bloom bright, shining and beautiful, but tender and delicate, doubters and subverters are all around thee ! Among the thorns, what caution and circumspection you have need of ! The world is full of thorns ; they are on the earth and in the air, and even in your own flesh. To live among these thorns and not to be torn by them, is the effect of Divine power, not of any efforts of your own. But be ofgood cheer, said the Lord, Ihave overcome the world ( John xvi. 33). Even though in looking forward you see troubles and trials, as it were the sharp points of thorns threatening you, yet let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid, remembering that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed ( Rom. v. 3). Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow and shine bravely even in the midst of thorns. If God so care for the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven ( Matt. vi . 28-30), how much more shall He care for her who is His very dear and cherished Bride ! Assuredly the Lord preserveth all them that love Him (Ps. cxlv. 20). As a lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters. It is no small proof of virtue to live a good life among the depraved, to preserve the pureness of innocence, and gentleness of character, among the evildisposed ; it is a still greater one to be peaceful with those who are hostile to peace, and to show yourself a friend to your enemies themselves. That will evidently constitute a special degree of likeness to the lily, which does not cease to adorn and beautify with its own fairness the very thorns which pierce it. Does it not seem to you that this is to become a lily in truth, to fulfil in a certain way the perfection taught in the Gospel, in which we are bidden to pray for those who despitefully use us, to do good to them which hate us ? ( Luke vi. 27, 28). Do you, then, do likewise, and your soul shall be dear to the Lord, and He shall praise you, and say of you : As a lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters.

3. We read farther on : As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my Beloved among the sons (ii. 3). To the commendations of the Bridegroom the Bride renders her praise in return ; to praise Him is to acknowledge and to admire the Being who is truly worthy of all praise, and to be praised by Him is to be rendered deserving of the praises given. And as the Bridegroom has praised her under the figure of a flower of surpassing beauty, so she declares His unmatched glory and eminence by comparing Him to a tree of great excellence. Nevertheless, it seems to me that the tree named is not so beautiful as some others, so that it is not fully worthy to be employed as a comparison, not being able to set forth sufficiently all His praise. Nor, indeed, does the Bride seem to have estimated it very highly, inasmuch as she puts it in comparison only with the trees of the forest, which are sterile, or, at least, unable to produce fruits fit for human food. Why, then, are better and nobler trees omitted, and this of but moderate merit brought forward for the purpose of setting forth the praise of the Bridegroom ? Ought He, who has not received the Spirit by measure (John iii. 34), to have this measured praise given to Him ? It seems to me that He, who has no equal, is spoken of in the making of this similitude as if there 1 Inter ligna silvarum. 2 Some writers have been desirous to understand here by malus ) ,ַחּפוָּתַּת μῆλον might be a superior to Him. What shall we say to these things ? I confess that the praise is small ; but this is because He who receives it is not considered in His greatness. For He is not spoken of here as the Lord who is great, and greatly to be praised (Ps. cxlv. 3), but as He who, though He is the Lord, is a little Child, and is greatly to be loved. For unto us a Child is born (Is. ix. 6).

4. Therefore it is not His Majesty that is exalted here, but His Humility that is commended; and this is reasonable and right, because the weakness of God is stronger than men, and the_foolishness of God is wiser than men ( 1 Cor. i. 25). Those (men] are as barren trees of the forest, inasmuch as, according to the Prophet, they are all gone aside, they are become unprofitable together ; there is none that doeth good, no not one (Ps. xiii. 3, Douay). Alone among the trees of the forest the Lord Jesus is a tree bearing fruit-I mean with respect to His Manhood-and though set above the sons of men He is made a little lower than the Angels (Ps. viii. 5). For by a wonderful mystery He both, in becoming Flesh, made Himself to be a little lower than the Angels, and, remaining God, always retained the Angels in subjection to Him. Thou shalt see, says the Scripture, Angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man (John i. 51) , because that in one and the same Man, who is Christ Jesus, they both sustain the weakness and humbly adore the Majesty. But as the Bride finds greater sweetness in considering Him in His humility, she extols with greater willingness His grace, she magnifies His mercy, she is lost in wonder at His condescension. Her delight is to admire [ in Him] a Man among men, not God among the Angels ; just as an apple-tree among the trees of the forest is indisputably superior, but not so evidently among the trees of a garden. Nor does she consider that His praises are diminished when the goodness and kindness of His actions are raised still more highly by the thought of His physical weakness. For if, on the one side, she retrenches somewhat from His praise, on the other she fully supplies it, and forbears to dilate upon the glory of His Greatness that she may extol still more the grace of His condescension. For as the Apostle says that the weakness of God is stronger, and the foolishness of God wiser, than men, but does not say ' than Angels ' ; and as the Psalmist declares of the Bridegroom : Thou art fairer than the children of men ( Ps. xlv. 2), but does not say ' fairer than Angels,' so when the Bride speaks here, assuredly by the same Spirit, of the ManGod under the figure of a fruit-bearing tree as compared with forest trees, the intention plainly was to exalt Him above all the favour of men, but not above the excellence of Angels.

5. As the appletree among the trees of the wood, so is my Beloved among the sons. Most fitly is it said among the sons, because, being the Only-Begotten Son of His Father, He has made it His object, and without jealousy, to acquire for Him many sons, whom He is not ashamed to call His brothers, so that He may be the first-born among many brethren. But He, who is the Son by Nature, is of right preferred to all those adopted sons, who are children by grace. Just, also, is the simile, as the apple-tree, to Him who, like a fruitful tree, affords a refreshing shadow as well as valuable fruit. Is not that truly a fruit-bearing tree, whose flowers are the fruit of honour and riches ? ( Ecclus. xxiv. 17). Assuredly He is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon Him (Prov. iii. 18). All the trees of the forest, however fair and however great they be, shall not be compared unto Him ; not even those who seem to be helpful by their prayers and their ministry, by their teaching or their holy example ; for Christ alone, the Wisdom of God, is the Tree of Life ( Rev. xxii. 2), the Living Bread which came down from heaven and giveth life unto the world ( John vi. 41, 33) .

6. Therefore it is that she goes on to say : Isat down under His shadow with great delight, and Hisfruit was sweet to my taste. She might well long for the shadow of Him, from whom she has both grateful shelter, and will receive needful nourishment. Other trees of the forest afford, indeed, a shadow from the heat, but they have not the Bread of Life, the immortal fruits of salvation. For there is one Author of Life, and One Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus ( 1 Tim. ii. 5), and it is He who says to His Bride : Iam thy salvation (Ps. xxxv. 3), and, Moses gave you not that Bread from Heaven, but My Father giveth you the True Breadfrom Heaven (John vi. 32). On this account, then, she had desired greatly the shadow of Christ, because it is He alone who shelters her from the hot breath of vices, and also fills her with the refreshment and joy of virtue. His Shadow is His Human Nature, and (that which brings me under the shelter of] His Shadow is faith. The Human Nature of Her Son it was which overshadowed Mary ; it is faith in my Lord which overshadows me. I might, indeed, say that His Flesh overshadows me also, since it is eaten by me in a mystery. The Blessed Virgin also experienced that shadow of faith, as is shown by the words spoken of her : And blessed is she who believed (Luke i. 45). So a prophet says : The breath of our mouth, Christ the Lord ... under His shadow we shall live among the Gentiles. Under His shadow among the Gentiles, but in His light among the Angels. We are in the shadow as long as we walk by faith, not by sight ; and, therefore, the just, who lives by faith, is in the shadow. But he who lives by the understanding, happy is he, because he is not in the shadow but in the light. David was a righteous man, and he walked by faith when he addressed this prayer to God : Give me understanding, that Imay learn Thy commandments, and I shall live ( Ps. cxix. 73 , 144). He knew that understanding shall succeed to faith, that the light of life and the life of light shall be revealed to the understand 1 Lam. iv. 20, but inexactly quoted. Rouald, Tiraqueau, and Horst, here read vivimus. ing. It is needful to come first to the shadow, and so to attain to that of which it is the shadow ; since, as says the Prophet : If ye will not believe me, ye shall not understand ( Is. vii. 9, and xliii. 10).

7. You see that faith is both life and the shadow of life. For the life which is spent in enjoyments, since it is not lived by faith, is but death and the shadow of death. For the widow, saith St. Paul, who liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth ( 1 Tim. v. 6). And to be carnally minded is death (Rom. viii. 6). It is also the shadow of death-of that death which torments everlastingly. We, too, have sometime been in the darkness and shadow of death, while we lived according to the flesh and not according to faith ; we were, indeed, already dead to righteousness, and soon to be swallowed up by that which is the second death. For it is certain that our life, as it was then, has drawn as near to death as the shadow is near to the body which casts it, and each of us may say with the Psalmist : Unless the Lordhad been my helper, my soul had almostdwelt in hell (Ps. xciv. 17 , Douay). But now we have passed from the shadow of death to the shadow of life, or, rather, we have passedfrom death unto life ( 1 John iii. 14), and are living in the shadow of Christ ; if, that is to say, we are of a truth living and not still dead. For I do not think that a person who has been in the shadow lives in it forthwith, because it is plain that not everyone who has faith lives by faith. But faith without works is dead (James ii . 26), and that which itself has not life is incapable of imparting it. That is why, after the Prophet had said : ' Christ the Lord is the Spirit before our face,' he goes on to say : ' under His shadow we shall live among the Gentiles ' ( Lam. iv. 20). Do you, then, take care, according to the example of the Prophet, to live in His shadow, that hereafter you may reign in His light ; for He has not only the shadow, He has also the light. Through the flesh He is the shadow of faith, through the spirit He is the light of knowledge. He is Flesh and He is Spirit. He is Flesh to those who remain in the flesh, and He is ' the Spirit before our face '-that is to say, in the future He shall be, provided that, forgetting those things which are behind and pressing forward to those things which are before, we attain to the experience of the truth in those words : It is the Spirit that quickeneth, theflesh profiteth nothing (John vi. 64) . Nor do I forget that the Apostle, while still sojourning in the flesh, has said : Even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we Him no more ( 2 Cor. v. 16). But this was His peculiar privilege : we who have never been so highly favoured as to be caught up into Paradise and into the third heaven, we still are nourished by the Flesh of Christ, we venerate His sacred Mysteries, we order our lives by His example, we keep the faith, and, without question, we live in His shadow.

8. I sat down under His shadow with great delight. Perhaps the Bride is here extolling herself as having a happier experience than the Prophet, inasmuch as she has sat under His shadow, not that she lives in it. For to be seated is to rest. It is more to rest in His shadow than to live in it, as it is more to live in it than simply to be in it. The Prophet predicates of himself that which is common to many : ' We shall live ;' but the Bride, who has a special privilege, states it with pride : ' I sat down. ' She does not say (as he has done) ' we ' in the plural, but ' I,' to mark that this is peculiar to herself. Where, then, we live with labour, we who serve with fear, being conscious of our offences, there the Bride, loving and devoted, sweetly rests. Fear is followed by a penalty, but love by sweetness ; wherefore she says : Hisfruit was sweet to my taste, signifying the heavenly charm of the contemplation which she had obtained when sweetly lifted up by love. Doubtless that is in the shadow, because it takes place, as it were, through a glass and darkly. But a time shall come when the light shall brighten to the dawn, the shadows shall wane until they wholly disappear : and then, in the place of them, shall begin a vision as clear as it is constant ; it shall be not only sweetness to the taste, but satisfaction, yet without surfeit, to the whole nature. Where the Bride makes pause, let us pause too ; glorifying, for the portion given to us of spiritual dainties delightful to our taste, Him who is the Head of the whole family in heaven and earth (Eph. iii. 15), and the Bridegroom of the Church, Our Lord JESUS CHRIST, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

A CCORDING to the obvious meaning of the text, the Bride, after an interview, as sweet as it was confidential, with her Beloved, according to her prayer, returns, on His departure, to her maidens ; to whom she appears so refreshed and excited in word and gesture, that it is as if she were inebriate. They are astonished at this novelty in her, and inquire the cause ; to which she replies that it is not at all wonderful she should seem to be excited as if with wine, since she has entered into the banqueting house. So much as to the literal sense. Spiritually understood, she does not deny that she is inebriate, but declares that it is with love, not with wine, unless love be wine. As long as the Bridegroom is present, she directs her discourse to Him. She calls Him her Bridegroom, her Beloved, or Him whom my soul loveth ; but when speaking of Him to the maidens, she calls Him the King. Why is this ? Because, as I think, it is more fitting for the Bride, who is loving and beloved, to use (as far as in her lies) terms of affection to Him whom she loves ; while at the same time she imposes respect upon her maidens, who require the bond of discipline, by the use of a term of dignity which inspires reverence.

2. The Kinghas brought me into His banqueting house. Of what is meant by the banqueting house I forbear to speak now, because I remember that I have treated of it before. (Sermon XXIII. ) But if the term is to be understood of the Church, when the disciples, being filled with the Holy Spirit, were thought by the people to be full of new wine, then we must remember that St. Peter, answering on behalf of the Bride, as a friend of the Bridegroom, declared : These are not filled with wine, asye suppose ( Acts ii. 15). Notice that he denied, not that they were inebriated, but that they were inebriated in the manner, and from the cause, that the people supposed. Inebriate they were, yet not with wine, but with the Holy Spirit. And as if they had wished to testify to the people that they had been, in truth, brought into the King's banqueting house, St. Peter, speaking still for them all, went on to say : This is that which was spoken by the Prophet Joel : And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, Iwill pour out of My Spirit upon all flesh ; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Does it not seem to you that the banqueting hall was that house in which the disciples were assembled, when suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind ( Spiritus), and it filled all the house where they were sitting, and thus accomplished the prophecy of Joel ? And was not each of them, going forth inebriated with the abundance of good things received in that house, and having, as it were, drunk deep of the rushing torrent of its pleasures, able to say with good reason : The King hath brought me into His banqueting house ?

3. You also, if you shall enter into the House of prayer in solitude and collectedness of spirit, if your mind be thoughtful and free of worldly cares, and if standing in the Presence of God before some altar, you shall touch, as it were, the portal of heaven with the hand of holy aspiration and longing ; if, having been brought among the choirs of the saints by the fervour of your devotion (for the prayer of the righteous soul can scale even the heights of heaven), you deplore before them, in deep humility, your spiritual troubles and miseries, you plead your necessities with frequent sighs and groans too deep for utterance, and entreat earnestly their compassion ; if, I say, you act thus, I have full confidence in Him who said : Ask, and ye shall receive (Matt. vii. 7), and I believe that if you persevere in knocking earnestly at that door, it shall certainly be opened to you, and you shall not go away empty. And when you shall return to us full of grace and love, and are unable, in the fervency of your spirit, to conceal the gift which you have received, and which you will without jealousy impart to others ; thus you will be, not merely acceptable to all, but perhaps even the object of their admiration, on account of the grace which has been bestowed upon you, and you will be able to declare with truth : The King hath brought me into His banqueting house. Only be cautious that you glory, not in yourself, but in the Lord. But I would not assert that every spiritual gift comes forth from this cellar here mentioned. The Bridegroom has also other cellars and storehouses, and in these are laid up divers gifts and graces, according to the riches of His glory. But of these, too, as I remember, I have already spoken. (Sermon XXIII . ) Are not these things stored up with Me, saith the Lord, and sealed up in My treasures ? ( Deut. xxxii. 34, Douay). Therefore the division of graces is made according to the diversity of storehouses, and the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal. Andalthough to one person is given the word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge, to another prophecy, to another the gifts of healing, to another divers kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues, and other gifts similar to these to other persons, yet it does not follow that any one of those who receive gifts of this kind should therefore be able to say that he has been brought into the banqueting house. For it may have been from other storehouses that his gifts have been drawn.

4. But if anyone, while in prayer, should obtain the grace to be drawn out of himself, as it were, and into the sphere of the Divine glory, from whence he returns after a time fired with an ardent love of God, inflamed with a burning zeal for righteousness, and also filled with extreme fervour in the pursuit of all spiritual occupations and studies, so that he can say : Myheart was hot within me, while Iwas musing the fire burned (Ps. xxxix. 3), that soul will evidently have a not unfounded claim to say that he has been brought into the banqueting house, because out of the abundance of his charity he has begun to manifest and utter the effects of that inebriation which, unlike every other, is in the highest degree salutary and good. For there are two kinds of ecstasy in holy contemplation : one of the understanding, the other of the heart ; one in the light of the understanding, the other in the fervour of the affections ; the one a blaze of discernment, the other a rapture of devotion ; and the glow of piety, the heart aflame with holy love, the access of sublime adoration, are all derived from the banqueting house of the King, equally with the clear vision of the eager spirit ; and everyone, whosoever he may be, who rises from prayer endowed with the fulness of these priceless gifts, may say with truth, The King hath brought me into His banqueting house.

5. Then the Bride goes on to say : He set in order charity in me (Douay). This was absolutely necessary, because zeal without knowledge is insupportable. Where zeal is eager, there discretion, which is the rule of charity by order, is most of all indispensable. Without knowledge zeal is found to be always less useful and less effectual ; and most often it is even very dangerous. The more fervent is zeal, the more eager the temper, the more profuse the charity ; the more need is there of a watchful knowledge, which moderates zeal, tempers the warmth of the disposition, and regulates the gushings of charity. That is the reason why the Bride, lest the impetuosity of spirit, brought, as it might appear, from the banqueting house, should be excessive and ungovernable, as she fears especially for the souls of the young, adds here that she has received also the orderly regulation of charity-that is, discretion. For discretion assigns to every virtue its due place ; and order produces moderation, due proportion and fitness, and therefore neverfailing continuance. Therefore the Scripture saith : By Thine ordinance the day continues (Ps. cxix. 91) calling virtue ' the day. ' Discretion, then, is not so much a single virtue, as a certain moderator and conductor of all the virtues, a director of the affections, and a teacher of all the conduct of life. Without it, even virtue degenerates into vice, and the natural impulses themselves are changed into passions which disturb and destroy nature. He set in order charity in me. This is what took place in the Church, when [ the Lord] gave some Apostles, and some Prophets, and some Evangelists, and some Pastors and Teachers, for the perfecting of the Saints ( Eph. iv. 11, 12). But it is necessary that the same charity should bind all these together into the unity of the Body of Christ, which it cannot in anywise do, unless it be guided and regulated. For if each person allows himself to be carried away by the warmth and impetuosity of his spirit to do indifferently everything that occurs to him, following rather his own preference than the dictates of reason, it is plain that there will no longer be unity, but confusion and disorder ; for no one will be content with the ministry confided to him, but will be busying himself indiscriminately with that of others.

6. He set in order charity in me. Oh that the Lord Jesus would, of His grace, set in order in me somewhat of the charity which He has bestowed, so that I might have such care of all things which are His, and relate to Him, as to put before all other things, to the utmost of my power, the duties of the office entrusted to me, yet so as, though these be put first, I may have a reserve of interest and sympathy for matters which are beyond my especial charge, for it is not always the case that those things should be the most loved which have to be the first cared for, for though they come before others in the care they require, they are frequently far behind them in usefulness, and therefore also in the approval and affection they command. Thus it is frequently the case that the thing which, according to a command binding on us, is preferred to another, should, by the dictate of reason, come after it ; and that which in the judgment of truth is of the greater importance, the order of charity, requires to be adopted with the greatest caution. Has there not, for example, been laid upon me by authority the care of you all ? Now, whatsoever I might 1 Such is the reading of all the MSS. and of the earliest editions. Later ones read : ' Dei judicio, etc. , and Horst, ' proinde quod veritasjudicat præponitur, de judicio, etc. , perhaps set before that task, or which might prevent my acquitting myself of the full discharge of it, according to my powers, even though I might seem to be actuated by a motive of charity to do it, yet the reason of the Order would not allow of its being done. Yet if I apply myself wholly to this [my first] work, in preference to all others , as I ought, but do not rejoice still more in greater services to God, which I may perceive to be done, perhaps, by some other person, then it is evident that I observe the order of charity only in part and not wholly. But if I occupy myself chiefly with that which is my particular charge, yet do not omit to show sympathy with other and greater work, then I shall be found to have fulfilled on both sides the order of charity, and there is nothing to hinder my saying : He has set in order charity in me.

7. If you say that it is difficult to rejoice more in the good work done by another, though it be great, than in a smaller good brought about by oneself, you will notice the more from this the excellence of the grace bestowed upon the Bride, and how it is not given to every soul to say : He has set in order charity in me. Wherefore have the countenances of some among you fallen at this discourse ? For those deep sighs are a sign of sorrow of soul and depression of conscience. It is because, when we compare ourselves with ourselves, we feel by our own experience our imperfection, and how rare a virtue it is not to envy the good of another, but, on the contrary, to rejoice in it, and to be the more willing to praise another's goodness in preference to our own the more we feel ourselves surpassed in virtue. There is still some light in us, brethren, when we feel thus about ourselves. Let us walk while we have the light, lest darkness come upon us (John xii. 35). To walk is to make progress. The Apostle was making progress when he said : I count not myselfto have apprehended ; and adds : This one thing Ido, forgetting those things which are behind, and, reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark ( Phil. iv. 13, 14). What does he mean by this one thing ? It is to say, There is one thing remaining to me which is at once a remedy, a hope, and a consolation. And what is that ? It is the forgetting the past and pressing forward to fresh endeavours in the future. It is a great ground for confidence that even the great man who was ' a chosen vessel ' did not regard himself as perfect, but earnestly desired to make a farther advance towards perfection. The danger, then, for us is that we should be surprised by the shadows of death when we are not in progress towards good, but are motionless and inert. And who is thus motionless except he who does not make any effort to advance ? Take heed of this, and then, if you shall be surprised by death, you will be in a state of gradual amelioration (refrigerio). You will say to God : Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being imperfect ; nevertheless, continues the Psalmist, all are written in Thybook (Ps. cxxxix. 16). Wherefore all? Doubtless those who are found in earnest desire for progress in good, for there follows : ' The days shall be formed, and none of them,' that is to say, shall perish. We must understand by ' the days ' those who are making spiritual progress, and these, if they are surprised by death, shall be perfected in those merits which are wanting in them. They shall be rendered wholly complete ; not one ofthem shall be left unformed or imperfect.

8. And how, you ask again, can I make any spiritual progress, seeing that I envy that of mybrother ? If you lament that you envy him, though you feel the envy, you do not consent to it. It is, so to speak, an illness to be cured, not an action to be condemned. Only you must not allow yourself to settle down into an habitual envy, meditating evil designs upon your bed, nursing, as it were, and fostering your disease, satisfying your evil feelings, persecuting the innocent, speaking evil of his good actions, impeding, perverting, and corrupting them. But that jealousy, if it be not yielded to, does not injure a soul which is in motion and stretching forward to better things, because, then, it is not he that does the wrong, but sin that dwelleth in him ( Rom. vii. 20). Condemnation, therefore, is not for him who is far from giving his members as instruments unto iniquity ; neither his tongue to detraction, nor any other part of his body to the injury or wrong ofhis neighbour in any way whatsoever; who, on the contrary, is ashamed to be of an evil disposition, who makes vigorous efforts to expel the deep-seated vice by confessing and bewailing it in prayer ; and if he does not succeed in doing so, is on that account more gentle towards others and more humble in himself. Who is the wise man who would condemn a soul like this, which has learned from the Lord to be meek and lowly in heart ( Matt. xi. 29) ? God forbid that there should be found to come short of salvation anyone who is a follower of the Saviour, the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord JESUS CHRIST, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

You are perhaps expecting, my brethren, that I should go on to treat of the words next following in the Canticle, as the words of the preceding verse were completed in the last Sermon. But I have another object ; and there are still some fragments that remain, as it were, of our banquet yesterday, which I had collected that nothing might be lost, and which I mean to set before you now. They will perish if not given to any for food ; while, if I keep them for my own use alone, I shall myself perish. I am most unwilling to deprive you of those spiritual dainties, your hunger for which I know so well, especially as they are out of the basket of charity, and the sweeter as they are smaller, and the more savoury as more minutely divided. Otherwise, it would be too much against charity to defraud you of charity itself. Therefore, here is my subject : He has set in order charity in me (ii . 4) .

2. There is charity in action, and there is charity in feeling. As concerning the first, I think that it is a law and explicit commandment given to men ; but, as relates to the other, who can have it in such perfection as is contemplated by the precept ? The one, therefore, is ordered as a command, the other given as a reward. We do not deny, however, that with the grace of God it is possible, even in this life, to attain the commencement, and even some degree of progress in the latter ; but we maintain that the consummation of it is reserved for the happiness to come. How, then, has that been commanded, which can by no means be fulfilled by us ? Or if you prefer to think that the command given has reference to charity in feeling, this I would not contest, provided that you agree with me in allowing that it is not possible for any man perfectly to fulfil it, nor has it ever been possible.1 For who would dare to arrogate to himself a success which St. Paul himself confesses that he had not attained ? (Phil. iii. 13) . Nor did our great Teacher conceal that the weight of this precept exceeded the powers of men ; but He has considered it useful to call man's attention by means of this fact to his own weakness, and that he might thus learn towards what object of righteousness to direct his efforts as far as his powers permitted. In commanding, then, things which are impossible [to the unaided strength of men], He has made men, not offenders, but humble : that every mouth may be stopped and all the world may be made subject to God. Because by the works of the Law no flesh shall be justified before Him ( Rom. iii . 19, 20, Douay) . We, then, receiving the commandment, and feeling ourselves to come short of it, shall raise our cry to Heaven, and our God shall have pity upon us, and we shall learn in that day that not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us ( Titus iii. 5) .

3. This is what I would say, provided that we were all of opinion that the charity of the heart and of the feelings was commanded by a distinct law imposed upon us. But the reason which seems to refer the law rather to charity in act is that when the Lord had said : 1 Tract. de Diligendo Deo, x. 29. 2 The opinion of St. Bernard is, that the precept regarding charity relates rather to charity in act, than in feeling. But by charity in feeling he means that lofty and perfect love which is to be found only in the saints and those who are perfect. Again, by charity in act (actualem) he means that which does not consist simply in feeling, but comes forth and shows itself in action ; but he did not by any means intend to exclude inward charity from it. ' I do not say, ' he declares further on ( n. 4) , ' that we ought to be without feelings of charity '; on the contrary, charity in act should include charity in thought, ' which, although it does not as yet refresh the soul with the sweetness of inward delight, yet it powerfully contributes to fire it with the love of that love itself. Now it is precisely inward love ' with which charity in act is content ' (n. 6). See on this subject the Admonition to De Diligendo Deo, Bk. ii . Love your enemies, He at once introduces a precept relating to actions, do good to them which hate you ( Luke vi. 27). And another Scripture says : If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink (Rom. vi. 20). And these precepts relate to actions, not to affections. Again, hear what the Lord Himself commands with regard to the affection due to Him : If ye love Me, keep My commandments (John xiv. 15) . Here, also, we are referred by Him to actions in enjoining the observance of His commands. It would have been superfluous for Him to warn us as to the doing of works if charity had consisted wholly in feelings. It is in this way that we should understand that commandment which orders you to ' love thy neighbour as thyself' ( Matt. xxii. 39), although it is not explicitly thus stated. And do you not consider it perfectly clear that, in order to fulfil that command as to the love of one's neighbour, it suffices to observe perfectly that which the law of nature prescribes : ' Do that to no man which thou hatest ' (Tobit iv. 15), and which the Lord, in fact, commands : All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them ( Matt. vii. 12) .

4. I do not say that we ought to be without feelings of charity, that the heart should be barren and unmoved, and that all we should do is to raise our hands to actions [of charity). I have read among the great and grave crimes, which the Apostle writes, that men commit, this enumerated, that they are without natural affection (Rom. i. 31 ) . But there is an affection which the flesh produces, there is another which reason rules, and a third which is seasoned by wisdom. The first is that of which the Apostle says, that it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be ( Rom. viii. 7 ) ; the second, on the contrary, because it is good, shows itself consentient to the Divine law, and there is no doubt, therefore, that these two are contrary the one to the other, since the one resists, and the other conforms to [the Divine Will]. As for the third, it is wholly different from each of the former, for it tastes and appreciates fully the sweetness of the Lord ( Ps. xxxiv. 8) ; it banishes the first, and rewards the second. The first is attractive indeed, but dishonourable ; the second dry, but steady and strong ; but the third full of unction and sweetness. It is, then, by the second that (good) works are done, and in it charity consists ; not, indeed, that charity of heart and feeling, which is seasoned with the salt of wisdom, and made fat with an unction from above, so as to bring to the soul the abundance of sweetness which is in God ; but rather a certain charity of action, which, though it does not as yet refresh the soul with the sweetness of inward delight, yet powerfully contributes to fire it with the love of that love itself. Let us not love, says St. John, in word, nor in tongue, but in deed and in truth ( 1 John iii. 18). 1 ' Where, then, are these to be kept ?' says St. Bernard in Sermon V. for Advent, n.

2. Nodoubt in the heart, as he there explains ; but they ought to be to the heart what food is to the body, and ' pass not only into the affections, but also into the character and actions of life.' TWO KINDS OF CHARITY 305

5. Do you observe how cautiously he proceeds, between love which is vicious and love which is only in feeling, distinguishing from each of these the real and saving charity ? He does not admit in it the feigned love of a false tongue ; nor, again, does he demand the lofty and consummate enjoyment of active wisdom. Let us love, he says, in deed and in truth ; that is to say, let us be moved to the doing of good works rather by the powerful impulse of truth and fact than by a feeling of emotional charity. He has set in order charity in me. Which of these two kinds of charity ? Each of them, in fact, but in a reverse order. For charity in act chooses rather (for its sphere) the lower sphere of life, while that of thought and feeling chooses the higher. There is, for example, no doubt that in a right-thinking soul the love of God is preferred to the love of man, heaven to earth, eternity to time, the soul to the body. And yet in well-regulated action the opposite order is frequently, or almost always, found to prevail. For we are both more frequently occupied, and more busily, with cares for the temporal good of our neighbour, and among our brethren we assist with more diligent assiduity those who are more infirm ; we apply ourselves, by the right of humanity and the necessity of the case, more to promote the peace of the earth than the glory of heaven ; in our anxiety about temporal interests we scarcely permit ourselves to think anything about those which are eternal ; in sickness our bodily pains and weakness occupy us almost without ceasing, and the care of our soul is laid aside ; and, lastly, we surround our weaker members, according to the saying of the Apostle, with more abundant honour ( 1 Cor. xii. 23), and thus we fulfil, after a fashion, that saying of the Lord : The last shall be first, and the first last ( Matt. xx. 16) . Who doubts that a man, when he is in prayer, is speaking with God ? and yet how often are we withdrawn, and, so to speak, torn away, from prayer, and that at the very dictate of charity, because of those who are in need of our assistance or our advice ! How often does holy quiet give place, and that from a pious motive, to the tumult' of business affairs ! How often do we with a good conscience lay down the manuscript we are reading, to go and perspire over manual labour ! How often, in order to carry out our worldly occupations, do we (and that very justly) temporarily supersede even the Celebration of the solemnities of the Holy Eucharist !! A preposterous order in which to act ; but necessity has no law. Charity in act follows its own order, and commences by the last things, according to the bidding of the Father of all ( Matt. xx. 8). At least it is a charity kindly and just, not an acceptor of persons ; nor does it consider the relative value of things, but the necessities ofmen.

6. Not so with charity in feeling ; that commences always with the first things. For wisdom sets upon all things the value which is really theirs ; thus, for example, that which is in its nature the more valuable receives from it the greater measure of attention ; those which have less value receive less, and those which have less still, least of all. It is truth, then, that determines this order of charity ; but it is charity that adopts it. For the true charity consists in this, that those whose needs are greatest receive first ; and, again, charitable truth is manifest, in preserving in our affections that order which is founded in the reason. If, then, you love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength ( Matt. xxii. 37), rising in the earnestness of that affection above that love of love, with which actual charity is content, and receiving in all its fulness the Divine love (to which that other love serves only as a step), are wholly fired and pervaded by it, assuredly you have a knowledge of God, although you cannot know Him adequately or as He is (which is a thing impossible to any creature), but at least such a knowledge of Him as you are capable of receiving here below. Then you shall have a true knowledge of yourself also, when you attain a perception of the fact that you have nothing whatever in yourself to deserve love, except in so far as you belong to God, and because you have poured out upon Him all the affection you can command. You well know yourself, I repeat, as you really are, when by experience of your own love, and of the affection which you bear to your own self, you find nothing in yourself that merits your love. except it is on account of Him without whom you yourself have no existence at all.

7. Now, as to your neighbour, whom you are bidden to love as yourself, you shall know him also as he is, provided that he does not appear to you as other than you appear to yourself; for he is that which you are ; he is man, as you. Since, then, you love yourself only because you love God, it follows that you love as yourself all those who love God as you love Him. As for an enemy, he is, as it were, nothing, since he has no love for God ; you cannot, therefore, love him as you love yourself, who do love God; but you will love even him that he may learn to love God. For it is not the same thing to love a person so that he may love God, and to love him because he does this. In order, then, that you may know him as he really is, you must consider, not that which he is at the present moment (for he is nothing), but that which he may perhaps some day be, which is next to nothing, as long as the matter is still in doubt. Further 1 In certain MSS. the word amoris is wanting. But it is not at variance with the thought of St. Bernard, who, in treating of charity in act ( n. 4), says, ' it powerfully contributes to fire the soul with the love of that love itself. ' more, if there be one who will clearly never return to the love of God, you must look upon him, not as almost nothing, but as nothing at all, inasmuch as throughout eternity he is nothing. With the exception, then, of such a person as he, who is not merely not to be loved, but who is, besides this, to be held in hatred, according to that saying of the Psalmist : Do I not hate them, O Lord, that hate Thee ? and am not I grieved with them that rise up against Thee ? (Ps. cxxxix. 21) charity, which is jealous in this respect, does not allow that you should refuse to any man, even to your most bitter enemy, some small measure of affection. Whoso is wise will ponder these things.

8. Give me a man who, before all things, loves God with all his being ; who loves both himself and his neighbour in the same degree in which each loves God ; who loves his enemy as one who may perhaps at some time in the future turn to the love of God ; who loves his relatives according to the flesh very tenderly, on account of nature, but his spiritual parents, that is, those who have instructed him, more abundantly on account of grace, and thus his love for all other things whatsoever is regulated by his love for God ; who despises the earth, and looks upward to the heaven ; who uses this world as not abusing it, and knows how to distinguish, by a certain inward faculty of soul, between things which are to be chosen and loved, and those to be merely used, so that things transitory are made use of as they pass for temporary need, and as long as the need requires, while things eternally enduring are embraced with lasting joy : show me, I say, a man such as this, and I will boldly pronounce him wise, since he takes things for what they truly are, and is able with truth and confidence to boast : He hath set in order charity in me. But where is such an one to be found, and when shall it be thus with him ? This I ask weeping : how long shall we perceive this fragrance without tasting it ? how long look forward to our heavenly home, without attaining it, sighing for it, while beholding it from afar ? O Truth, fatherland of exiled souls, and end of their exile ! I descry thee, but am unable to enter in ; I am detained in the flesh, I am defiled by my sins, I am not worthy to be admitted. O Wisdom, whose powerful guidance extendest from the beginning to the end of all things, establishing and controlling them ; who disposest all with admirable gentleness, ordering, blessing, and gladdening all affections, direct our actions according as our temporal necessities require, and dispose our affections as thy eternal truth demands ; so that each of us may be able securely to glory in Thee, and say : He has set in order charity in me. For Thou art the Power of God and the Wisdom of God, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, the Bridegroom of the Church, God above all, Blessed for ever. AMEN. 308 SERMONS

THE love [of the Bride] has grown because the incentives to it have been more and greater than heretofore ; for you see how precious has been the opportunity granted to her, of not only seeing the Bridegroom, but of conversing with Him. It seems, also, that He has appeared to her with a countenance more serene, that His interview with her was more prolonged, and His words kinder. Nor is she only delighted to have had an interview with her Beloved, but is honoured by the praise He has bestowed upon her. Furthermore, through Him she is refreshed with grateful shade, nourished with His fruit, and has drunk of His cup. For it is not to be supposed that she has come forth thirsty from the banqueting-house, into which she gloried so lately that she had been brought ; yet, indeed, she is thirsty still, according to the Scripture : They that drink me shall yet be thirsty (Ecclus. xxiv. 21 ). After all these things, the Bridegroom retires according to His wont, and it is then that the Bride declares herself to languish for love, that is to say, the love which she has for Him. For the more delightful she had found His presence, the keener is the pang she feels afterwards because of his absence. The taking away of what you love increases your desire for it ; and the more ardently you desire it, the more you feel the privation arising from its loss. For this reason the Bride entreats that she may be comforted in the meantime with fruits and the odour of flowers, until He shall return to her, whose present delay she endures with impatience. So much as relates to the order and connection of the text.

2. Let us try now, under the guidance of the Spirit of truth, to draw out some fruit of spiritual profit. And if it be taken that the Church, which includes all the saints, is here speaking, we are here referred to by flowers and fruits ; and not only we, but all those also who have been converted from the world in every age. The flowers mean those who are beginning the life of conversion, in whom it is still new and tender ; and the fruits, the strength of those who are farther advanced, and the ripeness of those who are perfect. Surrounded and supported by these in this place of her exile, the Church, our mother, to whom to live is Christ, and to die is gain, endures with less impatience her long trial of deferred hope, since, according to the Scripture, there is given unto her of thefruit of her hands, the firstfruits, so to speak, of the Spirit, and her own works praise her in the gates (Prov. xxxi. 31). But if you would that I should follow the moral sense, and show you in the soul flowers and fruits, then flowers denote faith, and fruits works. That explanation will, I think, not seem unsuitable to you, if you consider how, just as the flower necessarily precedes the fruit, faith must of necessity go before good action. For St. Paul bears witness that without faith it is impossible to please God ( Heb. xi. 6), and he says what is even stronger, that whatsoever is not offaith is sin (Rom. xiv. 23). Therefore, as there is not fruit without flowers, so is there no good action without faith. But, again, as faith without works is dead (James ii . 20), so in the same way it is useless for the flower to appear, if it be not followed by fruit. Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples, because I languish with love. Thus it is that a soul, accustomed to quiet, draws consolation from good works rooted in a faith unfeigned, whenever the light of holy contemplation is withdrawn from it, as is often the case. For who is able to enjoy the light of holy contemplation-I do not say continually, but even for any considerable time-while he remains in this body ? But as I have said, as often as he falls from the state of contemplation, he resorts to that of action, as to a convenient refuge, from whence he may be able more easily to return into his former state. For these two things are intimately related ; they are chamber companions, and dwell together. Martha is sister to Mary, and although she comes forth from the light of contemplation, she never suffers herself to fall into the darkness of sin, or to subside into ignoble sloth, but remains still in the light of good works. And that you may know that these are also light, remember the Lord's words : Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works ( Matt. v. 16) ; for it is quite clear that He spoke of actions which were capable of being beheld by men.

3. Because I languish with love. When the object of affection is present, love grows and strengthens ; but when he is absent, love languishes. This languor is nothing else than the weariness of eager and unsatisfied longing, with which the mind of her who loves is necessarily strongly affected in the absence of her beloved. For as she is always absorbed in watching for his coming, she regards as delay whatever haste he may use. Therefore it is that you see the Bride entreating that she may be surrounded with the fruits of good works and the sweet odours of faith, among which she may rest while her Lord delays His coming. I speak to you of that which I have verified by personal experience. I do assure you, brethren, that if I ever find that any of you have profited by my teaching and warnings, then I do not regret that I have preferred the preaching to you, to my own quiet and ease. For when, for example, after a sermon, someone who is passionate is found to have become gentle, a proud mind to be humble, a timid one brave and strong ; or when one already gentle, humble, or brave, is seen to have made progress in those graces, and to have become better than he was before ; or when those who perhaps were lukewarm and languid, sleepy and uninterested in spiritual exercises, are awakened and warmed by the fiery touch of the word of the Lord ; and when those who, having deserted the fountain of true wisdom, have hewn out to themselves at their own will cisterns which can hold no water, and because their hearts are dry, and they have in themselves no impulse of devotion, have been wont to murmur at every command laid upon them-when, I say, such persons as these, by the dew of the word, and the plentiful rain, which God has reserved to His inheritance, are shown to have, as it were, flourished anew in works of obedience, and to have become submissive and devoted in all things, I have no ground, I assure you, for feeling sorrow at the interruption of my pursuit of happy contemplation, when I am surrounded with such flowers and fruits of piety. I endure with patience the being torn from the society of an unfruitful Rachel, to obtain from Leah the plentiful fruits ofyour progress in goodness. It will not trouble me at all, I repeat, to break in upon my quiet for the purpose of preparing to preach to you, when I shall see the seed which I have sown in your souls grow in them, and bring forth the rich increase of your fruits of righteousness. For charity, which seeketh not her own ( 1 Cor. xiii. 5), has long since easily won me to prefer your advantage to all else that I hold most desirable. To pray, to read, to write, to meditate, and all the other advantages of spiritual studies ; I have counted them all as loss for your sake, and in comparison with any loss to you.

4. Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples : because I languish with love. This says the Bride to her maidens in the absence of her Spouse, thus warning them to make progress in faith and good works, until He come, because she believes that this will be both well-pleasing to Him, a consolation to herself, and the means of their salvation. I know that I have explained this passage more fully and in another sense in my book upon the Love of God, and if it shall please any of you to read that, he can decide whether of the two is to be preferred. A prudent person will not, I think, condemn the giving of two senses to the same passage, provided that each appear to be grounded in truth, and that charity, which is the rule in interpreting Scripture, shall edify the more persons, inasmuch as there are a greater number of truthful senses, which each may apply to his own special need. For why should that be found faulty in the interpreting of Scripture, which we see is industriously practised in other things ? To how many different bodily uses (only to take one thing for an example) do we put the element of water ? In the same way a person is not to be blamed who gives divers senses, fitted to the various needs of souls, to a passage of Scripture.

5. Then follow the words : His left hand is under my head, and His right hand doth embrace me (ii. 6). I remember that this also was discussed very elaborately in the treatise which I have mentioned ; but let us observe the sequence of the discourse. It appears that the Bridegroom has at length returned, as I suppose, to encourage by His presence the drooping Bride, and that He is with her. For how could it be otherwise than that she should be revived by His presence, whom His absence had so cast down ? He is unable, then, to endure the sadness of His beloved one ; He is present ; nor when recalled by a desire so ardent is He capable of making delay. And as He had found her during His absence faithful to her labours and earnestly desirous of [spiritual] profit, as was doubtless shown by her direction that flowers and fruits should be gathered together for her, so He returns to her with graces more abundant than heretofore for her reward. Happy the soul which lies on the Breast of Christ, and by the Arms of the WORD is enfolded in rest. His left hand is under my head, and His right hand shall embrace me. She does not say, doth embrace, but shall embrace, to signify that she is so grateful for the former grace, as to anticipate the second by her giving of thanks.

6. Learn not to be slow and slothful in returning thanks to God ; learn to render thanksgiving to Him for each of His gifts. Diligently, says the Scripture, consider what is put before thee (Prov. xxiii. 1), so as not to let pass any gift of God, whether great, or mediocre, or even very small, without rendering due thanks for it. Are we not bidden to gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost (John vi. 12) ; that is to say, let not the least benefits be forgotten ? For is not that lost which is bestowed upon an ungrateful receiver ? Ingratitude is the enemy of the soul, the starving of merits, the dissipation of virtues, and the loss of the benefits that God has bestowed upon us. Ingratitude is as a burning wind, which dries up for itself the fountain of goodness, the dew of mercy, the flowing stream of grace. On this account it is that the Bride, when she has felt the grace done to her by the left hand of her Spouse, renders her thanks, and does not delay even to receive the farther grace which awaits her from His right hand before so doing. For, after having said, His left hand is under my head, does she go on to say similarly, ' With His right He has embraced me' ; but shall embrace me, she says instead.

7. But in what sense shall we understand that the Word has either right hand or left ? Can it be said of the Word, as it is said of ordinary human beings, that there are in Him bodily parts distinct the one from the other, and separate lineaments, so that distinction can bemade between the right hand and the left ? Ought we not rather to believe that the Word of God, who is Himself God, does not admit in Himself any such diversity, but is that which He is (Exod. iii. 14), that is to say, in His Nature Uncompounded, and therefore without parts, as He is One, and therefore without number ? For He is God the Word, of whom it is written : Of His Wisdom there is no number (Ps. cxlvi. 5, Douay). But if that which is unchangeable is incomprehensible, it is therefore incapable of being 1 The Vulgate does not read amplexatur, but amplexabitur. expressed in language ; where, then, I ask, can you find words in which that Majesty so exalted can either worthily be expressed, competently defined, or even suitably spoken of? Yet, in order to expound, according to our capacity, the little that we know and has been revealed to us by the Holy Spirit, and taught us by the usage of the Holy Scriptures and the authority of the Fathers, let it be permitted to us to make use of analogies from things that we know, and not indeed to find out new terms, but to vary the meaning of some known to us, so as to clothe those analogies sufficiently and suitably. For unless this were done, it would be absurd to attempt to teach things unknown by means of words which are equally unknown.

8. Thus, as by the right hand and the left hand it is the custom to denote prosperity and adversity, so it seems to me that by the left hand of the Word may be meant the threatening of punishment, and by His right hand the promise of the kingdom of heaven. Now, there are times when our soul is servilely oppressed by the fear of punishment, and then we cannot say that the right hand of the Bridegroom is under our head, but that it is upon our head ; nor can a soul thus affected say with the Bride : His left hand is under my head. But if it makes progress, so as to pass out of this spirit of servitude into a nobler disposition of free and willing service, insomuch that it is rather invited by the hope of reward than constrained by the fear of punishments, and especially if it is influenced by the pure love of good, then undoubtedly it will be able to say His left hand is under my head. For it has, by a better and more excellent disposition of mind, risen above that slavish fear which is aroused or indicated by the left hand, and by the very power and worthiness of its aspirations has drawn nearer to that which is signified by the Right Hand. And in it, according to the saying of the Psalmist, addressing the Lord, are all the promises : At Thy Right Hand there are pleasures for evermore (Ps. xvi. 11). This is why the Bride, speaking in the certitude of her hope, declares : And His Right Hand shall embrace me.

9. You will now see with me whether a soul thus disposed, and which has attained a position of such sweetness and happiness, may well appropriate to itself what is said in a Psalm : I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, especially as it may go on to give the reason which follows : For Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety (Ps. iv. 8) . That, in truth, is the case. Whereas he who is oppressed with a spirit of servitude, who has but little of hope and much of fear, dwells not in peace, nor is able to rest, because his conscience fluctuates continually between hoping and fearing, and is so much the more tortured by the predominance of the latter, because fear hath torment. And therefore it is not his happy lot to say, ' I will lay me down in peace and rest, ' because none can say that unless he be firmly established in hope. But if, by a progressive growth in grace, the fear diminishes, and the hope grows stronger-then at 1 Mutuari ; another reading is transferre. THE BRIDE MAKES PETITION 3£3 length charity comes with all its powers to the assistance of hope, and fear is driven out of the soul-will not hope under those circumstances have made good its ground, and will not that soul be able to rest and sleep in peace ?

10. Ifyou sleep among the midst oflots you shall be as the wings of a dove covered with silver. What I think, then, is intended here is that there is a medium between fear and security, as between the right wing and the left-namely, hope-on which soul and conscience sweetly repose ; that is to say, on the soft and pleasant bed of charity. And perhaps it is this that is referred to in a later passage of this Canticle, where, in a description of the couch of Solomon, among other words you have : The midst thereof being paved with charity for the daughters of Jerusalem ( iii. 10). For he who feels himself to be strongly established in hope does not serve in fear, but rests in charity. That is, in fact, the case with the Bride, who rests and even sleeps ; wherefore it is said [by the Bridegroom] : Icharge you, O ye daughters ofJerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake My love until she please (ii. 7). It is a great and surprising condescension that He makes the contemplative soul to repose in His Bosom ; that He guards it also from intrusive cares ; that He protects it from the inquietudes of action and the embarrassments of business, and does not suffer it to be aroused at all, except at its own will. That, however, is not a subject to be entered upon at the close of a discourse ; it will be better to defer it to another occasion, when time will not be wanting for the treatment of a theme so attractive. Not that even then we can be sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, especially with regard to a matter so noble, so excellent, and so altogether sublime ; but our sufficiency is of God, of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

I T is to the maidens that this prohibition is addressed. By this name, of daughters of Jerusalem, He calls those delicate and weak souls which are, as it were, womanly in affections and actions, but are, nevertheless, attached to the Bride, in the hope of attaining spiritual profit, and making their way to Jerusalem with her. These, then, He forbids to disturb the sleep of the Bride, or to presume to awaken her against her will. For her most sweet Spouse has, as we have before been told, laid His left hand under her head, and made her to rest and sleep. And now, as the text goes on to say, He, in His abounding kindness and condescension, makes Himself her guard, and watches over her, lest, being disquieted by the small but frequent wants of her maidens, she should be awakened. That is the literal sense of the text. But as for that contestation ' by the roes and hinds of the field,' it seems to have no reasonable consequence in the literal sense; it is, therefore, to be explained entirely according to its spiritual meaning. However that may be, we may say here that it is good for us to behold for a little the goodness, the sweetness, the condescension of the Divine Nature. For that which thou, O man, hast ever experienced in human feelings, which is most tender and sweet, it is that which is here predicated to thee of the Heart of the Most High. And He who speaks of it thus is He who searches the deep things of God, and because He is the Spirit of God, cannot but know whatsoever is in Him ; nor, since He is the Spirit of truth, can He speak any other thing than that which He has seen in Him. 2. [We must believe that] there are those belonging to our race who have been so happy as to merit to taste this joy, and so to experience in their own selves the effects of a mystery so sweet ; for otherwise we should be wanting in faith in this Scripture before us, where the heavenly Bridegroom is plainly brought before us, as feeling a most earnest desire for the peace and rest of a certain soul, which was dear to Him, and so anxious as to hold that soul in His. own arms, that the sweetness of its sleep might not be troubled by any care or disquiet. I cannot contain my joy to see that the Sovereign Majesty does not disdain to condescend to the weakness. of our nature by entering into a relation to it so familiar and so sweet, and that the Supreme Godhead does not think it below its dignity to ally itself with the soul, even in its present state of exile, and to show for it the ardent affection of a loving Spouse. Thus, thus, it is in heaven, I do not doubt, as I see it to be on earth ; and that the soul will assuredly feel that which is described in the text ; except that words are not capable of fully describing that which it will then be able to experience, though it is not now able. What, think you, shall the soul receive on high which even here below is honoured with such near association with God as to feel His Arms around her, to be sheltered in His Bosom, to be watched and guarded by His care, so that when sleeping she shall not be aroused by any until she awaken of her own accord ?

3. Let us now, then, consider, and let me explain if I can, what is the nature of that sleep which the Bridegroom desires for His beloved (Ps. cxxvii. 2 ), and from which He will not have her aroused, except at her own will, lest perhaps someone reading what an Apostle has written : Now it is high time to awake out of sleep (Rom. xiii. 11 ), or the prayer that the Psalmist makes to God to lighten his eyes lest he sleep the sleep of death (Ps. xiii. 3), should be troubled by a misunderstanding of words, and be able to form no worthy idea of the slumber of the Bride which in this passage is referred to. Nor is this sleep at all similar to that other slumber of which the Lord speaks in the Gospel-namely, that of Lazarus : Ourfriend Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep (John xi. 11 ). For this He said of the death of the body, though the disciples thought that He referred to an ordinary sleep. But this repose of the Bride is not the unconsciousness of the body which steeps the bodily senses in deep forgetfulness for the time, however peaceful that may be ; nor yet that sleep, deeper and more to be feared, which steals away the life. Much more is it far removed from that other slumber which is the state of him who sleeps in death--that is to say, who perseveres irrevocably in sin which leads to death. This may, on the contrary, be called a sleep of life, and even a vigil ; for it illuminates the inward sense-it banishes death, and contributes to everlasting life. Yet that is, in truth, a sleep which, though it does not steep the senses in forgetfulness, ravishes and transports them [into a higher sphere]. It is even a death (as I may say without hesitation), since the Apostle speaks thus, in order to praise certain persons while they were still living the life of the body : Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God ( Col. iii . 3) .

4. I may, then, without any absurdity, call the ecstasy of the Bride death ; but it is a death which, far from depriving her of life, delivers her from the snares [which are dangerous to] life, so that she is able to say : Our soul is escaped even as a bird out of the snare of thefowlers (Ps. cxxiv. 7). For in this life we proceed in the midst of snares ; and the soul is delivered from the fear of these whenever it is, so to speak, ravished out of itself by intense and holy thought, provided that it is separated from, and elevated above, itself to such a degree as to transcend its usual habit of thinking. For a net is spread in vain before the eyes of them that have wings (Prov. i. 17, Douay). Where there is no consciousness even of life, what fear is there of impurity ? For when the soul is in that state it ceases, not, indeed, to have life, but to have any consciousness of its life, and therefore it does not feel any of the temptations of life. O that Ihad wings like a dove ; for then would Ifly away, and be at rest (Ps. lv. 6). Would that thus I might die often, so as to avoid the snares of death, to escape the deadly blandishments of a life of pleasure, to be insensible to carnal delights, to the passion of avarice, to the incitements of anger and impatience, to the troubles and disquiets of cares and anxieties ! Let my soul die the death of the righteous, that no fraud may ensnare it, nor there be any satisfaction to it in evil-doing. Good, indeed, and to be desired, is that death which does not take away life, but only changes it into a better form, which does not strike down the body, but elevates the soul.

5. Yet this is but the death which belongs to men. May my soul die the death which, if I may so speak, belongs to angels ; so that, departing from the remembrance of things present, and being divested not only of desire for, but also of the haunting ideas and images of, things corporeal and inferior, it may enter into pure relations with those in which is the image and likeness of purity. Of this nature, as I consider, is the ecstasy in which contemplation wholly or principally consists. For to be, while still living, delivered from the power of desires for things material is a degree of human virtue ; but to be brought out of the sphere of material forms and ideas is a privilege of angelic purity. Yet each of these two is a Divine gift-each of them consists in coming out of yourself, in rising above yourself ; but the one carries you only a little way, while the other carries you far indeed. Blessed is he who can say : Lo, I have fled far away, and abode in solitude (Ps. lv. 7). He was not content to go forth unless he could go far away, so as to obtain repose. Have you over-passed the pleasures of the flesh, so that you no longer obey its lusts, nor are subject to its allurements ? Then you have made progress ; you have separated yourself [from the world] ; but you have not yet detached yourself entirely from it as long as you have not the power to banish, by the mere purity of your spirit, and to rise entirely out of the reach of, the inrushing and thronging crowd of material images and ideas. Do not, at the point which you have thus far attained, promise yourself rest of soul. You mistake if you think that the place of repose, the secret of solitude, the habitation of peace, the stillness of serene light, is to be found on this side of your earthly existence. But show me the soul who has attained that point of freedom of which I speak, who can justly say : Return unto thy rest, O my soul ; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee (Ps. cxvi. 7), and I will at once confess that he has found the rest desired. And this place is truly in a solitude, this dwelling is truly in the light, according to the prophet ; a tabernacle for a shadow in the day-time from the heat, and for a place of refuge, and for a covert from storm and from rain (Is. iv. 6) ; and of it holy David also says : In the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion : in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me (Ps. xxvii. 5) .

6. Regard this, then, as the solitude into which the Bride has withdrawn, and in which place of delight she sweetly rests in communion with her Spouse, by which we are to understand that she is rapt in ecstasy, from which she is not to be aroused by her maidens until she shall choose. But in what terms is that prohibition stated ? They are not forbidden in the usual manner, and with simple and unemphatic terms, but with a new and unexampled adjuration : by the roes and by the hinds of thefield. And it seems to me that by these two kinds of animals it is intended to designate the holy souls who are delivered from the body, and the Angels who are in the Presence of God, with reference both to the clearness of their sight, and the swiftness of their motions. Now, we know that both the one and the other of these qualities befits these two classes of spirits , for they rise easily to the loftiest truths, and penetrate to the deepest mysteries. The fields or plains, also, over which they are said to roam, evidently denote the lightness and freedom from all restraint with which they expatiate in contemplation. What is the intention , then, of that adjuration by them made by the Spouse ? It is doubtless in order that the maidens, restless as they are, may not venture, for any slight cause, to recall His Beloved from a company so august, with whom she assuredly associates, as often as she is rapt out of herself by contemplation. It is, then, with great fitness that they are adjured by respect for those good and holy beings, from whose society the Bride is being torn away by their importunity. These maidens are to consider who it is that they are offending when they importune their mother, and are not to presume so much on her motherly kindness as to have the boldness to burst in upon that celestial assembly when no pressing necessity exists for so doing. Let them clearly understand that this is what they do, as often as they disturb, without real cause, the deep quiet of a soul fixed in contemplation. Evidently it is laid down by these words, that it is to such a soul that the choice is left, whether to employ its leisure to its own spiritual good, or to devote itself to cares for them, that is to say, by the words in which it is forbidden to arouse the Bride, except at her own will. The Bridegroom is well aware how ardent is the affection of His Bride, even towards her neighbours, and that, good mother as she is, she is sufficiently prompted by her own charity anxiously to care for the spiritual interests of her daughters, and that she will not, on any account, deny herself to them, or withdraw herself from them, as often and as much as there is need of her ; and therefore He has determined that the question of time can be safely left to her discretion. She is not one such as those whom a prophet subjects to withering reproof, who have taken to themselves that which is fat and strong, but have neglected that which was feeble ( Ezek. xxxiv. 3, 4). Does the physician seek those that are healthy, and not rather those that are sick ? If he visits the former, it is as friend, and not as physician . So also, O thou who art a good teacher, if you repel all that are unlearned, whom will you instruct ? To whom, I ask, will you administer with care and zeal the rules of discipline, if you either avoid the unruly, or are avoided by them ? In whom, I ask, shall your patience find its work and be approved, if you admit those only who are peaceful and submissive, and exclude all others ?

7. There are some sitting here from whom I should wish to see a more careful heed to this matter. Let them reflect, at least, what respect is due to those set over them, and that, by disturbing them rashly and without good cause, they are drawing upon themselves the displeasure of even the citizens of heaven. And then, perhaps, they will begin to spare us a little more than they have been accustomed to do, and not to break in upon our leisure so inconsiderately and rashly. Rarely, indeed, as they know, is an hour left to me for resting from the incessant coming of visitors, even when [the brethren] bear with me in all patience. But I reproach myself for making that complaint, lest some timid soul should conceal his spiritual needs longer than his strength holds out, in fear of disturbing me. I say no more on this subject, then, lest I should seem myself to afford to those who are weak an example of impatience. The Lord has little children who yet believe in Him, and I could not bear that I should be an occasion of scandal to such (Matt. xviii. 6) . I do not make use of the power that I have over them [as their Abbot] ; let them rather make use of me as they will, provided only that they attain salvation. They will really spare me in not sparing me at all, and I shall rest the more freely if they have no fear at all ofdisturbing me when they have need of anything. I shall comply with their wishes as far as I am able, and as long as I have a breath of life shall serve my God in them with real and unfeigned charity. I seek not my own interests, nor those things which are useful to me, but rather court that which is of use to many, of use also to myself. This only I ask and entreat, that my ministry may be accepted and become fruitful, so that at least I may find mercy in the evil day in the eyes of Him who is their Father, and the Father of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, the Bridegroom of the Church, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN. BY ' MOUNTAINS' AND ' HILLS' ARE SIGNIFIED HEAVENLY SPIRITS 319

THE Bride, noticing the increased modesty of her maidens, and their respectful timidity, shown by their no longer venturing to intrude upon her sacred repose, nor presuming, as they had previously done, to trouble the quiet of her contemplation, recognises that this is the effect of the care and labours of the Bridegroom. Rejoicing, therefore, in spirit, as well because they are advantaged in being restrained from needless and excessive restlessness, as because of the condescension and favour of her Bridegroom, and her own prospect of unbroken quiet in future, she declares that it is the Voice of her Beloved which does this, and His grace that has brought it about, with so much zeal on behalf of her peace, and earnestness in defending the sweetness of her leisure, or, rather, of her fervent religious exercises. For the man who has in charge the rule over others, and discharges it with faithfulness and care, scarcely ever allows himself with a good conscience to enjoy rest, since he is always in fear of not doing sufficient for those under his authority, and of not pleasing God, if he prefers his own quiet, and the sweetness of contemplation, to that which is for the common advantage. But there is sometimes no little joy and security in his mind, while enjoying his interval of peaceful repose, when he perceives, from the degree of awe and reverence for him with which God inspires the hearts of those he governs, that his quiet is pleasing to God, who causes them to endure their wants with a patient mind, rather than venture to disturb the grateful rest of their spiritual father. For the just fear of these his children shows manifestly that they have heard inwardly that complaining and, as it were, threatening voice of Him who speaks by the prophet : I that speak in righteousness ( Is. lxiii. 1). It is His voice, it is His inspiration, and it impresses upon them a righteous fear.

2. When His Voice, then, is heard, the Bride is glad and rejoices, saying : The Voice of my Beloved. She is His chosen, and rejoices with great joy on account of the voice of her Spouse. Then she adds : Behold, He cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. Having recognised by hearing His voice the presence of her chosen, instantly she turns inquiring eyes around in order to see Him whom she had heard. Hearing leads to sight, because faith cometh by hearing (Rom. x. 17) ; and it is faith that purifies hearts, and renders them capable of beholding God. For we read thus : Purifying their hearts by faith (Acts xv. 9). Then she sees Him approaching whom she had heard speaking, thus observing the order indicated by the Holy Spirit, who has spoken thus by the mouth of the Psalmist : Hearken, O daughter, and see ( Ps. xliv. 11 , Douay). And that you may be the more surely convinced that it is not by accident or chance, but of set design and purpose, because of the reason already alleged, that I have here set hearing before sight, notice whether the same order is not observed by holy Job where he speaks thus to God : Ihave heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth Thee (Job xlii. 5). So, also, when the Scripture relates that the Holy Ghost descended upon the Apostles, is not hearing described as having preceded sight ? For it is said : Suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind; and, then, in the next verse : There appeared unto them cloven tongues like as offire (Acts ii. 2, 3). Here, then, it is plainly shown that the coming of the Holy Spirit was perceived, first by hearing, and afterwards by sight. But enough has been said upon this subject, for you also, if you will take the trouble to pursue this inquiry further, will perhaps be able to find similar instances in other parts of Scripture.

3. Now let us consider a subject which, because it cannot be approached without difficulty, needs a specially careful examination ; in which I confess that I am altogether dependent on the aid of the Holy Spirit, that I may be able clearly to explain what are those mountains and those hills upon which the Church saw with great gladness her Bridegroom leaping, and over which she saw Him pass with rapid steps, when, as I think, He was hastening to come to accomplish her redemption for whose beauty He was filled with love. That this is the case I have confidence in believing, inasmuch as a similar passage of Scripture occurs to me in which the Psalmist evidently spoke prophetically under the guidance of the Spirit, and foretold the coming of the Saviour : He hath set His tabernacle in the sun, and He, as a Bridegroom coming out of his bridechamber, hath rejoiced as a giant to run the way ; His going out is from the end of heaven, and His circuit even to the end thereof (Ps. xviii. 6, Douay). His going forth, and His return likewise, are here most clear ; whence it was undertaken, whither, and to what end, most clear also. What then ? When we read these words in the Psalms, or in the Canticle before us, ought we to imagine to ourselves a giant of prodigious stature, who is captivated by the love of some fair one dwelling at a distance from him, and whom we behold on his way to her traversing with great steps, with leaps and bounds, those hills and mountains which we see lifting their lofty mass out of the plain, and that so high that some of their most elevated peaks are lost in the clouds ? But it is not becoming to have recourse to material images such as these when treating of a spiritual poem, and to us in particular it is altogether forbidden, for we remember what we have read in the BY ' MOUNTAINS' AND ' HILLS ' Gospel, that God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth (John iv. 24).

4. What, then [let us inquire], are these mountains and these hills, spiritually understood, so that we may be able as a consequence to comprehend in what way the Bridegroom (who, as He is God, is therefore also Spirit), and with what kind of bounds, can leap upon them and over them ? If we suppose that they are those mountains upon which, as the Gospel declares, the ninety and nine sheep were wandering when their kind Shepherd came to the earth to seek His sheep which had gone astray (Matt. xviii. 12) ; the matter is still obscure, and the understanding baffled, because it is difficult to find out what are those other mountains on which dwell and feed the heavenly and spiritual beatitudes, which are, without doubt, those who are there spoken of as sheep. But if there were no such [mountains] in truth, then the Truth would not have said this. Nor, again, would the Psalmist have said long before of the heavenly Jerusalem, that her foundations were upon the holy mountains (Ps. lxxxvii. 1), if there were, in fact, no such mountains at all. Lastly, to show that the celestial country has mountains and hills, not only spiritual, but also living, and of a reasonable nature, hear the words of Isaiah : The mountains and the hills shall break forth before [God] into singing (Is. lv. 12).

5. What, then, are they except those very spirits, dwellers in heaven, whom the Lord, as we have said, calls sheep, and who signify at once sheep and mountains ? Unless it should perhaps seem to you absurd that mountains should be said to feed upon mountains and sheep upon sheep. Taken in a literal sense, no doubt, this explanation seems harsh ; but to the spiritual understanding it will appear harmonious if we understand it in a deeper sense-viz. , that the Shepherd of each flock, Christ the Wisdom of God, administers one and the same food of truth both in heaven and on earth, but in one way to His heavenly flocks and in another to His earthly ones. For we mortal men, while we are in the place of our pilgrimage, have indeed necessarily to eat our bread in the sweat of our brow, and to beg it from without in labour and distressthat is, to gain a knowledge of the invisible things of God, which are understood by the things which are made, either from men who are instructed in holy things or from the Scriptures of God. But the Angels receive it in themselves, though not for themselves, and with as much facility as felicity, which is for them the great happiness of their existence. For they are all (capable of being) taught of God, which blessing it is promised that the elect among men shall assuredly attain at some future time, though this assured felicity it is not granted to them as yet to enjoy.

6. Thus mountains do feed upon mountains, or sheep upon sheep, since those celestial and spiritual beings find abundantly in themselves, by the word of life which they receive, the means to render their blessedness perpetual, and are at the same time (as it were) mountains and sheep ; mountains, because of their exaltation and their fulness ; sheep, because of their gentleness and goodness. For they are full of God, raised high by merits, and heaped with virtues, and yet do not fail to bend their heads, however lofty, in complete and humble obedience and submission to the sovereign Majesty of God ; as innocent and gentle sheep conduct themselves in all things according to the will of their shepherd, and follow him whithersoever he goeth . And, according to David the Psalmist, upon these mountains truly holy, as upon wisdom created first of all things, the foundations of the City of God are firmly set and stand fast from the beginning (Ps. lxxxvii. 1 ) ; and this City is one, both in heaven and on earth, though in part it is militant on earth, and in part reigning in heaven. And, nevertheless, from these mountains, according to the prophet Isaiah, resounds thanksgiving, and the voice of melody (Is. li. 3), as from living and harmonious cymbals, accomplishing thus, with sweet and neverceasing sound, that word of the same prophet which I quoted before, that the mountains and the hills shall break forth before [God] into singing, and also this other word which the Psalmist has addressed to the Lord God : Blessed are they that dwell in Thy House, they will be still praising Thee (Ps. lxxxiv. 4).

7. So much, then, upon this subject ; let us now take up again the thread of our discourse, from which we have digressed a little, but necessarily, as I think : those are the mountains and the hills on which the Church has seen her heavenly Spouse leaping with wonderful alacrity, and even overleaping them, in haste to meet and welcome her. Do you desire that I should show you, out of the writings of the Prophets and Apostles, what is to be mystically understood by these ? I do not intend to repeat to you all the testimonies with regard to this which may be found in those writings by those who have leisure to search them (for this would take a long time, and there is no need for it), but only those which appear to confirm clearly and briefly what is said here of the boundings of the Bridegroom. Now, David says of Him that His goingforth isfrom the end of the heaven ( Ps. xix. 6, already quoted). Lo ! what a bound was that, even from the height of heaven down to the earth ! For I find not any other spot, but the earth, which can be intended when it is said that He has placed His tabernacle in the sun-that is, He, who dwells in the inaccessible Light, has deigned to manifest His Presence openly and in the light. Then, again, He was seen upon earth, and conversed with men (Baruch iii. 38). Upon the earth, and before the eyes of men, I say, that is, according to the phrase here used, ' in the sun ' hath He set His tabernacle ; that is, the Body which He has condescended to take to Himself from the body of a Virgin, so that He, who was invisible in Himself, might become visible in It, and thus all flesh might see the salvation of God, which was made manifest in the flesh.

8. He has bounded, then, upon the mountains ; that is, upon the highest spiritual beings, when He descended even to them, and BY ' MOUNTAINS' AND ' HILLS ' deigned to reveal to them the great mystery of His goodness, which was a secret hidden from the beginning of the world. But passing over, or overleaping those loftier mountain heights, namely, Cherubin and Seraphin, Dominations, Principalities, Powers, and Virtues, He deigned to descend, as it were, upon the hills--that is, even unto a lower order of Angels. But has He remained even with them ? Nay, He has overleaped even the hills. For He took not on Him the nature of Angels ; but He took on Him the seed of Abraham (Heb. ii. 16), and this was inferior to that of the Angels, so that thus was accomplished the word of the Psalmist, when he spoke thus to the Father of the Son : Thou hast made Him a little lower than the Angels (Ps. viii. 5) . Though, indeed, it is possible to explain this passage as spoken in commendation of human nature, inasmuch as man, who is made in the image and likeness of God, and endowed with reason in like manner as an Angel, is yet a little lower than the Angel, because he has a body of earth. Hear what the Apostle Paul says plainly of Jesus Christ : Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God ; but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, being found in fashion as a man (Phil. ii. 6-8 ) ; and again : When the fulness of the time was come, God sentforth His Son, made ofa woman, made under the Law, to redeem them that were under the Law (Gal. iv. 4, 5). It is, then, beyond doubt that being made of a woman, and made under the Law, He has passed in descending to the earth, not only the mountains, that is, the higher orders of blessed spirits, but also the lower orders of these, who, in comparison of their superiors, may rightly be called hills. But he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than whosoever bears a body of flesh upon the earth, even though it were that great Saint, John the Baptist ( Luke vii. 28). For, although we do truly confess that He who is God and man, even as Man is far above, and incomparably superior to, every Principality and Power, yet it is certain that if H surpasses them in majesty, He falls short of them in respect c. physical weakness. Thus, then, it is that He leaps upon the mountains, and leaps over the hills, when by a vast condescension He shows Himself as inferior, not only to spirits of a higher rank, but also to those of a lower. For He was manifested as subject, not only to those heavenly spirits, but also to those who dwelt in bodies of clay, overleaping and overcoming by His humility even the humbleness of men. For when He was at Nazareth, at the age of twelve years, He was subject unto Mary and Joseph ( Luke ii . 51 , 52 ) ; at the river Jordan, being then a young man, He bent Himself under the hands of St. John Baptist ( Matt. iii. 13). But now the day is already verging towards evening, nor have we yet been able to descend from these mountains.

9. Yet if we should wish for this once only to satisfy our curiosity by examining what is beautiful, by searching out what is hidden in this mystery, it is to be feared that either the sermon would be weari somely long, or that in our haste we should treat with too little care a matter very large and important. Let us, then, stop here for to-day, if you wish, upon these mountains, for it is good for us to be here ; and Christ our good Shepherd, having placed us with the holy Angels in a rich pasture, we are able to feed in it at once with pleasure and abundance. And we are indeed the sheep of His pasture. Let us, then, as a pure flock of the good Shepherd, meditate with our best powers (ruminemus) upon the spiritual food we have received in the sermon of to-day. We will complete in the next what remains to be said upon this subject ; let us try to give our best attention to it, by the grace of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

UPON the same verse which was treated in the sermon of yesterday I will bring before you another interpretation, differing from that which I gave before : you will choose which of the two is to be preferred. There is no need to repeat what was said before, which I think will not in so short a time have escaped you. But if that be the case, that sermon, like the others, has been written down as it was delivered, except perhaps the exact words, so that whatever has slipped from the memory may easily be recalled. Having said this, let me go on to speak of other things. Behold, it is said, Hecometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills. She speaks of the Bridegroom. He no doubt leapt over the mountains when, having been sent by the Father to preach the Gospel to the poor, He did not disdain to perform the function of Angels, though He was the Lord of Angels, and to become the Angel of the great purpose of God. He who was wont to depute others to come down to earth descended hither in His own Person ; the Lord Himself made known the salvation which He brought, and Himself revealed His Righteousness in the sight of the nations (Ps. xcviii. 2). Since, then, all the angels, according to the Apostle, are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation (Heb. i. 14), He who was above them, passing over the injury done by men, and multiplying upon them His grace, was numbered among 1 Excepta stilo. { the angels, becoming as one of them. But hear what He Himself said : Icame, not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give My life a ransomfor many ( Matt. xx. 28). Which, indeed, no angel was found to have done ; so that by the devotion and fidelity of His services to men, He has surpassed all those who had come to serve them before. No minister has shown such self-devotion as He, who has given ( ministravit) His Flesh for their food, His Blood for their cordial, His very life for their ransom. None, surely, is so good as He who, by the fervour of His spirit, by the ardour of His love, and the devotion of His goodness, has not only leaped upon the mountains, but leaped over the hills ; that is to say, He has surpassed and overcome them by the earnest desire which He felt to save men ; wherefore God, His God, has anointed Him with the oil of gladness above His fellows (Ps. xlv. 7). It is in this earnestness of His desire that He proceeds with great and rapid steps ' as a giant to run his course. ' He overpassed Gabriel, and, according to that Archangel's own testimony, was with the Virgin before him ; for did he not say : Hail, thou thatart full ofgrace, the Lord is with thee ? What ? Thou findest Him now in the womb [of the Virgin], whom thou hast just left in heaven. How can that be ? He has flown and foreflown on the wings of the winds. Thou art surpassed, O Archangel ; the Lord has overleaped and anticipated thee.

2. Or, again, He ' leaped upon the mountains ' when He appeared formerly to the Fathers in the person of angels ; which seems to agree more closely with the letter of the text. For it is not said ' leaping on to the mountains, ' but ' in the mountains, so that He who causes and enables them to leap, leaps also in them ; just as it is He who speaks in the prophets and acts in the righteous, when He enables the one to speak and the other to do good works. Add to this that some of them represented Him, so that whosoever of them spoke, he did so not as angel, but as the Lord. For example, that angel who spoke with Moses did not say ' I am the Angel of the Lord, ' but ' I am the Lord ' ; and repeated that frequently. He, therefore, leaped in the mountains that is, in the angels, in whom He was wont both to speak and to manifest His Presence to men. He did this also upon men, but in the person of angels, not in His own Person ; nor in His own Nature, but in that of one of His subject races. For he who leaps passes from one place to another, and this cannot be ascribed to God. Therefore He leaped in the mountains, that is, in the angels, who would do this in His own Person ; and He leaped to, or upon, the hills, that is, upon the Patriarchs and Prophets, and other spiritual men who were on the earth. But also, He ' leaped over ' the hills, since He deigned to appear to, and to speak with, not only great men and spiritual men, but also to certain of the people, and even to some women, by the same ministry of angels. Or it may be 1 Luke i. 28, prævenit. This is the reading in the MSS. , not pervenit, as in the printed editions. The early edition of Rouald also has prævenit. 2 Non ' in montes' sed ' in montibus.' that by ' hills ' the Scripture understands the powers of the air, which are not now numbered among ' mountains, ' because they have fallen by pride from the height of virtue ; and yet they are not abased by penitence nor humbled to the lowliness of valleys, or to the valleys of the lowly. I suppose that it was of these that those words were spoken in the Psalms : The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord (Ps. xcvii. 5). He who leaps in the mountains without doubt leaps over these swollen and sterile hills, which hold, as it were, a middle place between the mountains of the perfect and the valleys of the penitent ; these He passes over with scorn, and descends into the valleys, that the valleys may abound with grain. Those others, on the contrary, are condemned to perpetual dryness and sterility, as in that calling down of evil of the Prophet upon such : Let there be no dew, neither rain upon you. And that you may know that, under the figure of the mountains of Gilboa, this saying applies to the angels who fell, notice the reason that is given : For there many wounded have fallen ( 2 Sam. i. 21 ). How many from the army of Israel have fallen upon those accursed mountains from the beginning, and how many still fall at the present ! It is of those that the same Psalmist speaks when he says to the Lord : Like as the dead, that lie in the grave, whom Thou rememberest no more : and they are cut offfrom Thy Hand (Ps. lxxxviii. 5).

3. It is not, therefore, wonderful if those spirits, which are not, as it were, mountains of heaven, but hills of the lower air, upon which neither dew nor showers of rain fall, should remain always sterile and unfruitful ; since the Author of grace and the Giver of blessings leaps or passes over these, and descends to the valleys, so as to pour forth rain from heaven upon the humble who are on the earth, and to make them to bring forth fruit with patience, some thirtyfold, some sixtyfold, and some an hundredfold (Matt. xiii. 8 and Luke viii . 15) . Не visits the earth and blesses it ; He makes it to be very plenteous (Ps. lxv. 9). But it is the earth, not the air, that He has visited, because the earth isfull of the goodness of the Lord ( Ps. xxxiii. 5) . It is declared also that God has worked salvation in the midst of the earth (Ps. lxxiv. 12) : but does the Psalmist say also ' in the midst of the air ' ? This [may be taken as] against Origen, who, by a false and impudent theory, crucified the Lord of glory once again in the midst of the air for the sake of demons : whereas St. Paul, being conscious of this mystery, affirms that Christ, being raisedfrom the dead, dieth no more : death hath no more dominion over Him ( Rom. vi. 9).

4. But He who has passed through the air has visited not only the earth, but also the heaven, as the Scripture declares : Thy mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens, and Thyfaithfulness reacheth unto the clouds (Ps. xxxvi. 5) ; that is to say, unto the heaven in which dwell the holy angels, whom the Bridegroom does not pass over, but leaps in them, so that He impresses in them, as it were, the prints of His Feet-mercy, that is, and truth-as to which Footprints of the Lord I remember that I have spoken at greater length in another sermon (Sermon VI. ). But the abode of the demons is below the clouds, and removed from them, in the obscure and gloomy air that is lowest of all ; and in them the Bridegroom does not make His beneficent power operative, but passes them wholly over, without leaving in them any trace of His Divine passage. For how can truth be found in the devil, of whom we find in the Gospels the declaration of the Truth Himself, that he abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him (John viii. 44) ? Again, who can say that he is merciful, when the same Truth has testified of him likewise in the Gospel, that he was a murderer from the beginning ? Now, such as the head of the family is, such are they of his house also. With great fitness and beauty, then, does the Church, singing of the Bridegroom, declare that He dwelleth on high, and humbleth Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth (Ps. cxiii. 5, 6), but makes no mention of those spirits of pride which are in the air, because God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace unto the humble (James iv. 6) .

5. The Church sees Him, then, leaping in the mountains, and passing over the hills, according to the imprecation of David : ' Let the Lord visit all the mountains which are in their circuit ' that is, in the circuit of Gilboabut Gilboa let Him not visit. " For there are mountains which the Lord visits, on this side and on that of Gilboa, by which is signified the devil ; above there are angels, below there are men. To him, when he fell from heaven, was assigned as punishment an abode in that region of the air (Eph. ii. 2) midway between heaven and earth, that he might see and be envious, and be tortured with the envy which he feels. And this the Scripture describes when it says : The wicked shall see it, and be grieved : he shall gnash with his teeth, and melt away (Ps. cxii. 10). How unhappy must he be when he looks up to heaven and descries its mountains innumerable, all illuminated and shining with the Divine glory, all resounding with the praises of God, full and abounding with His glory and grace ! How still more unhappy when he looks down upon the earth, and beholds there also many mountains of people, chosen and made the sons of God, who are established in the faith of lofty hope, of wide-extending charity ; who are accomplished in virtues, rich in the fruits of good works ; upon whom falls day by day the Divine benediction, as it were by the dew from heaven, or, so to speak, from the mystical touch of the Bridegroom's foot in His leaping ! With how great grief and jealousy, must we suppose, does that spirit so greedily desirous of glory behold those glorious mountains in their perfect ring, while he and his followers are ( as it were) regions rough, gloomy, unfruitful in any good thing, and every way to be despised ; so that he who calumniated all that lived is himself become the opprobrium of men and of angels, according to that saying in the Psalms : That dragon whom Thou hastformed to be a derision (Ps. civ. 26).

6. And the cause of this is that the Bridegroom passes them over on account of their pride, leaping upon the mountains which are around, as the fountain which arises from the midst of Paradise, watering the whole earth, and filling with blessing every living thing. Blessed are those who deserve to drink sometimes, even though it be rarely, of the torrent of this delight, and in whom the water of wisdom and the fountain of life 'leaps forth from time to time, though it does not flow continuously, so that it becomes in them a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life (John iv. 14). And, indeed, the flowing of this river is perennial and abundant, making glad the city of God ( Ps. xlvi. 4). May God vouchsafe, in His condescension, to send upon our mountains on earth some gushings of this stream sometimes, as it were by a kind of inundation, so that they, being sufficiently watered, may be able to distil upon us also, who are valleys, some little rills, though they be few and small, that we may not remain altogether dry and unfruitful. Only misery, and poverty, and biting famine is the lot of that region which is never moistened by plentiful flowings, or even little tricklings, from the fountain of wisdom, but is altogether passed by and passed over. ' They were destroyed, ' it is said, ' because they had no wisdom, and perished through their own foolishness ' ( Baruch iii . 28) .

7. Behold, He cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. He leaps so as to overleap (transiliat), because it is not His will to extend [ His presence] to all ; nor is it the good pleasure of God [to do this] in every case. Brethren, if, according to the wise saying of St. Paul, those things are written for our admonition (1 Cor. x. 11 ) , let us observe the discretion and circumspection of the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom ; let us remark how, as among the angels, so among us, He bounds spiritually upon the humble, and passes over the proud. For though the Lord be highest of all, yet hath He respect unto the lowly ; but the proud He knoweth afar off (Ps. cxxxviii. 6) . Of this, I say, let us take notice, so that we may be prepared for the saving bounds of the Bridegroom, lest, as He passes over the mountains of Gilboa, so He may pass over us also, if He shall have perceived that we are unworthy of His visitation. Why dost thou, who art but earth and ashes, indulge in pride ? The Lord abhors the pride even of angels [who are proud] , and passes them over on that account. Therefore let the casting off of angels cause the correction of men ; for it has been recorded for our admonition. Let the evil even of the devil cooperate for good to me, and may I wash my hands in the blood of the ungodly. In what manner, do you inquire ? As thus : A terrible and fearful malediction has been hurled against that proud one, the devil, the Prophet David speaking in the Spirit of Him under the type of Mount Gilboa, as was related above : ' Let the Lord visit all the mountains which are in his circuit ; but Gilboa let Him not visit. ' I

8. When I read these words, and when, turning my eyes upon myself, I consider myself diligently, I find that I am infected with that very disease which the Lord regarded in an Angel with displeasure so great as to turn away altogether from him, at the same time that He deigned to honour with His visitation all the mountains which are around him, whether of Angels or of men ; and I say to myself with fear and trembling : ' If it was thus done with an angel, what shall be done with regard to me, who am but earth and ashes ?' It was in heaven that he indulged in pride ; but I have done so upon a mere dunghill. Who does not find pride more bearable in the rich than in the poor ? Woe unto me ! if a spirit so powerful was punished with such severity because his heart was lifted up with pride, and if it availed him nothing that pride is recognised to be congenial to the powerful, what penalty must be exacted from me, who am poor and miserable, and yet am proud ? But I receive already the chastisement ; I am stricken already with many stripes. Not undeservedly has for days past that languor of soul, that mental slothfulness, that unaccustomed inertness of spirit stolen over me. did run well ; but, lo ! a stone of stumbling was in my path ; I have stumbled against it, and fallen. Pride has been found in me, and the Lord has turned away in wrath from His servant. Hence is that barrenness of my soul and that defect in devotion which I experience. How is it that my heart is thus dried up ? soured as it were milk, made like earth in which is no water ? Its hardness has become so great that I am not able to shed tears. In the chanting of the Psalms I feel no interest, I do not care to read, I have no delight in prayer, I do not resort to my habitual meditations. Where is my former cheerfulness and delight of soul ? my calm, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost ? For the same reason I am slothful in manual labour, drowsy during vigils, hasty in anger, obstinate in hatred, more unguarded in speech, and self-indulgent at the table than I was wont, unobservant and slow of heart during preaching. Alas ! the Lord visits all the mountains which are around me, but to me He draws not near. Am not I that one of all these hills which the Bridegroom passes over ? For of those around me I see one remarkable for abstinence, another for admirable patience, another for consummate humility and gentleness, another for much mercy and kindness ; this man I behold spending long hours in contemplation, and that man knocking hard at the doors of heaven by the earnestness of his prayers ; and there are others whom I see to excel in other virtues. I remark ( I say) that all these are fervent, all devoted, all of one mind in Christ, all rich in grace and in heavenly gifts, as being, so to speak, in truth spiritual mountains which are visited by the Lord, and receive often in themselves the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom. But I, who find in myself none of all these things, what else can I suppose myself to be than one of the mountains of Gilboa, which the Saviour, who visits in His great goodness all the others, passes over in His wrath and indignation ?

9. My dear children, this reflection takes away the vain glorification of self, attracts to us the gifts of grace, prepares us for the mystical bounds of the Bridegroom. These things I have, for your sakes , transferred to myself, and spoken as if they had taken place in my own person, that you might learn a lesson from them. Be ye then followers of me ; I do not say in the exercise of virtues or the discipline of character, or the glory of holiness (for in all these respects I do not set myself up as worthy of imitation), but I would that you should follow me in not sparing yourselves, but on the contrary, accusing your own selves as often as you detect that grace is lessening in you, that zeal is growing cold, and virtue languishing, as you see that I likewise accuse myself. To do this is to act as a man who watches exactly over himself, who examines with care his ways and his desires, and who in everything holds in suspicion the vice of arrogance, for fear that it should creep secretly into his heart. In truth, I have learned by my own experience that there is nothing so efficacious in deserving grace, in preserving it, or in recovering it if lost, as to be found at all times not high-minded before God, but filled with holy fear. Happy is the man that feareth alway (Prov. xxviii. 14). Fear, then, when favouring grace is with thee ; fear when it has departed ; fear also when at length it returns ; this it is to fear alway. Let these three kinds of fear succeed each other in your soul, according as you are favoured by the presence of grace, or as it has retired grieved from you, or forgivingly returns. When it is present, let your fear be that you may not act and walk worthily of it; for this is the precept of the Apostle St. Paul : See that ye receive not the grace of God in vain ( 2 Cor. vi. 1 ) ; and to one of his disciples, Neglect not the gift that is in thee ( 1 Tim. iv. 14) ; while of himself he said : The grace (of God) which was bestowed upon me was not in vain (1 Cor. xv. 10). That great man, who knew the counsel of God, was well aware that to neglect the gifts of God, or not to use them to the purpose for which they were given, is to display great disregard, and even contempt, for the giver ; and that he considered to be intolerable pride. Therefore it was that he both avoided this wrong-doing with the greatest care himself, and taught others to avoid it also. But there is still another den or hiding-place in which pride is wont to lurk, which I wish to discover to you ; and this is the more perilous because it is very closely concealed ; as says the Psalmist : He lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den (Ps. x. 9). For if he is not able to hinder [a good] action, he endeavours to tamper with the intention of it, suggesting and persuading you to attribute to yourself that which is the effect of grace. And do not be under any mistake about this kind of pride ; it is even far worse than the former. For what can be more hateful than language of this kind, which has been used by some : Our mighty hand, and not the Lord, hath done all these things (Deut. xxxii. 27, Douay).

10. If, then, you ought to fear while grace remains with you, what should you do when it has left you ? Ought you not, then, much more to fear ? Plainly that is the case, for, where grace fails you, you fail too. Listen to the words of Him who is the sovereign Giver of grace: Without Me, He says, ye can do nothing ( John xv. 5). Fear, then, the withdrawal of grace, as the sure prelude of your speedy fall . Fear and tremble exceedingly because you feel that God's just anger is aroused against you, and that the powerful guardianship which hitherto has kept you safe has abandoned you. Do not hesitate to believe that your pride is the cause of this, even though you are conscious of no pride, and there is none apparent in your actions ; for that which you do not know God knows, and it is He who is your Judge. And it is not he that commendeth himself that is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth (2 Cor. x. 18). Now, if the Lord deprives you of grace, is that a sign of His commendation ? Or will He who giveth grace unto the humble (James iv. 6) take away from one who is humble that which He has already given ? Therefore the taking away of grace is a proof of pride [in him from whom it is taken] . Though it must be added that sometimes grace is taken away or withheld, not on account of pride which is present at the time, but to prevent pride which would follow unless grace were taken away. Of this we have a clear example in the person of the Apostle [St. Paul], who endured reluctantly his thorn in the flesh, not because he was exalted above measure, but in order that he might not be so (2 Cor. xii. 7). But pride, whether existing in the present or to be apprehended in the future, will ever be a cause for the withdrawal of grace.

11. Again, if grace shall have returned with the regaining of God's favour, much more is there reason for fear lest a second fall should happen to us, according to that saying in the Gospel : Behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee ( John v. 14) . You hear, then, that it is worse to fall again into sin than to sin the first time ; let your fear, therefore, be greater in proportion as your danger increases. Happy are you if your heart be filled with this threefold fear, so that you fear when you have received grace, still more when that grace is lost, but most of all when it has been regained. Do this, and you will be as the waterpot at that marriage at Cana where Christ was a guest, filled to the very brim, containing, not two measures apiece, but three ; and you will deserve the blessing of Christ, which shall turn the water [of your poor nature] into the wine ofgladness, until the time when your charity, being perfected, shall cast out all fear (1 John iv. 18).

12. I say, then, that thus it is that fear is typified by water, inasmuch as it tempers the heat of carnal desires. Thefear of the Lord, saith the Scripture, is the beginning of wisdom (Ps. cxi. 10) ; and again : The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life (Prov. xiv. 27 ; They Ecclus. xv. 3 ; xix. 18-20). Your mind, then, is as one of those waterpots, containing, says the Scripture, two or three measures apiece. Now, the three measures represent the three kinds of fear. filled them, continues the Evangelist, up to the brim. So that it is not one kind of fear, nor two, which suffices to fill your mind] to its utmost extent, but three are needed. Fear God at all times and with all your heart, and then you have filled that measure, which is your mind, up to the brim. God loves that an offering made to Him should be without defect, that love offered to Him should be without reserve ; in short, that the sacrifice laid upon His altar should be in every way perfect. Therefore be careful to bring that measure, your mind, filled [with holy fear] to the heavenly marriage feast, so that it may be said of you also : He shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord (Is. xi. 3, Douay). He who fears thus neglects nothing ; for how can negligence enter into that which is wholly filled ? That which is capable of receiving something more is not absolutely full . For a similar reason it is not possible to fear and at the same time to indulge in thoughts of pride. And there is no place for pride to enter your mind if it be filled with the fear of the Lord. And it is the same with other faults and vices, they are of necessity excluded by the fulness of this gracious fear. Then, when your fear shall be thus full and perfect, love, bringing the benediction of the Lord, shall impart to your water the rich flavour and fragrance of wine. For fear without love is but pain and suffering, and love is that wine which maketh glad the heart of man (Ps. civ. 15). For love, when perfected, casteth out fear, so that where there was but water, there begins to be the glow and the sparkle of wine, to the praise and glory of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all , God blessed for ever. AMEN.

THIS depends upon the preceding verse. The Bride now compares to a roe or a young hart Him whom she had just described as advancing with rapid leaps. The comparison is an apt one, since those animals are swift of foot and agile in leaping. She speaks, then, of the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom is the Word. And the Psalmist says of God that His Word runneth very swiftly (Ps. cxlvii. 15), which exactly agrees with this passage, in which the Bridegroom, who is the Word of God, is described as leaping and traversing swiftly the mountains in the manner of a roe or young hart. This is the ground of the comparison made. To this add, that not even the smallest ground of similarity may be wanting, that the roebuck is remarkable not only for its headlong swiftness, but also for the keenness of its sight. Which last quality has special reference to this part of the narrative, since the Bridegroom is described as not only leaping on some mountains, but as overleaping others, and unless His sight were keen and piercing He would not be able to distinguish, especially during the rapid speed of His course, those on which He should alight from those which He should pass over. Otherwise, to mark simply His speed, it would have sufficed to compare Him to a young hart, for that animal is noted for its swiftness. But because the Bridegroom, though the ardour of His affection is carrying Him with exceeding swiftness to the meeting with His beloved, yet does not omit to direct His steps, or rather His bounds, with prudence and circumspection, and to take heed where He ought to set His foot, therefore it was expedient to compare Him to a roe as well as to a young hart, as if to express as well by the one His strong desire to save, as by the other His discerning and careful choice. For Christ is just as well as merciful ; He is Judge as well as Saviour. Because He loves men He desires all to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth ( 1 Tim. ii . 4), and because He has the office of judgment He knoweth them that are His ( 2 Tim. ii. 19) and whom He hath chosen [from the beginning) ( John xiii. 18).

2. Let us, then, in the meantime recognise that these two transcendent attributes of the Bridegroom-namely, mercy and judgment -are commended to us by the Holy Spirit under the types of these two animals, so that for a testimony of the uprightness and perfectness of our faith we may imitate the Psalmist, and sing with him unto the Lord of mercy and judgment (Ps. ci. 1 ). But I do not doubt that those who are instructed and inquiring in such subjects will be able to point out other points of likeness of a similar kind which may fitly and usefully be applied to the Bridegroom ; but these may, I think, suffice here as giving a reason for the comparison. Yet there is one more point of beautiful significance in this similitude here instituted by the Holy Spirit between the Bridegroom and (not a stag, but) a young hart. For in that is recalled at once the memory of the Fathers (of whom, according to the flesh, Christ came) and the Infancy of the Saviour. For the Child who unto us is born ( Is . ix . 6) came into the world weak and poor, and, as it were, as a young fawn. But thou who desirest the coming of the Saviour, do thou hold in salutary fear the scrutiny of the Judge ; fear His piercing glance ; fear Him who by the mouth of the prophet declares : It shall come to pass at that time that Iwill search Jerusalem with candles (Zeph . i. 12) . Piercing is His sight ; His eye shall leave nothing unexamined. He shall try the hearts and reins (Ps. vii. 9), and the 1 In lucernis, Vulgate. very thoughts of men are open and confessed to Him (Heb. iv. 13) . If Jerusalem shall undergo a scrutiny so searching, who shall be safe in Babylon ? For I think that in this passage the Prophet refers, under the name of Jerusalem, to those who in this world lead a religious life ; who imitate , as far as they are able, by their regulated and honourable conduct, the condition and mode of existence in that heavenly Jerusalem, and who are not as those who belong to Babylon, and whose life is full of disorders and crimes. For their sins are manifest, going before to judgment ( 1 Tim. v. 24) ; and require, not examination, but punishment. But as for me, who appear to be a monk and a citizen of Jerusalem, my sins are covered and, as it were, cloaked under the monastic habit and name ; and on that account there will be need of strict and exact inquiry (of the bringing of lanterns, so to speak), and throwing light upon what is now in the darkness.

3. I may bring forward something more from one of the Psalms to confirm what is said about the judging of Jerusalem. For the Psalmist, speaking in the Name of God, says : When I shall take a time, Iwill judge righteousnesses (Ps. lxxv. 2). By this He means, if I do not mistake, to say that He will discuss and examine the ways and the actions of the righteous. We have great reason to fear that when subjected to a scrutiny so vigorous, many of our actions which we believe to be praiseworthy will be shown to be veritably sins . But there is one resource : that if we wouldjudge ourselves, we should not be judged ( 1 Cor. xi. 31). Good for me is that judgment, which withdraws me and hides me from the Divine judgment, which is so terribly severe. I fear and tremble to think of falling into the hands of the living God ; I would be brought before the countenance of His anger already judged, and not for judgment. He who is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man ( 1 Cor. ii. 15) . I will judge, then, the evil which is in me, and I will judge also the good. I will take care to correct the evil by better actions, to wash it away by tears, to punish it by fasts and other actions of holy discipline. I will think humbly of any good qualities I have, and, according to the precept of the Lord, will count myself an unprofitable servant, who has done only that which it was his duty to do (Luke xvii. 10). I will make it my endeavour not to offer Him tares for grain, nor yet chaff mingled with the grain. I will examine closely my ways and my purposes, so that He who will search Jerusalem with lanterns may find nothing in me unexamined or unsifted. For He will not judge the same thing twice over.

4. Who will give me grace to find out and search clearly all my defaults to their very lowest grounds, so that I may have no need to fear those keen eyes (caprea), nor to blush when the light of those lanterns is thrown upon me? Now I am seen, but I do not see. The eye of Him to whom all things are open and manifest is present, though He Himself is not visible. There will be a time when I shall know, even as also I am known ; but now I know only in part, though it is not in part, but wholly and entirely that I am known. I fear the sight of that Divine Observer who stands, as it were, behind a wall. For this is what the Scripture adds respecting Him whom, for the keenness of His sight, it has compared to a hart : Behold, He standeth behind our wall, He looketh forth at the windows, shewing Himself through the lattice (ii. 9). But we will explain that in its place. Him I fear, the hidden Observer of hidden things. But the Bride fears nothing, because she is conscious of no wrong. What has she, in fact, to fear, who is His beloved one, His dove, His undefiled ? (vi. 9) . Also you read farther on : My Beloved spake unto me. He speaks, and that is why I fear to behold him, because I have not His testimony that I am His. But thou, O Bride, what is it that thou hearest Him say of thee ? What to thee dost thy Beloved say ? Rise up, He says, My love, Myfair one, and come away. But this we must defer to the beginning of another sermon, so as not to limit too much that which requires to be treated at length, lest perhaps I be found faulty in this matter, if you do not find that you are edified and built up in the knowledge and love of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

A CCORDING to the letter the Bride seems to say that He whom she descried from afar, approaching with leaps and bounds, has now drawn near to her dwelling, and stands behind the wall gazing earnestly through the windows and other openings, and modestly not presuming to enter. But, according to the Spirit, it is to be understood that He has indeed drawn near, but after another manner worthy to be adopted by that Heavenly Bridegroom, and to be described by the Holy Spirit. For the true and spiritual understanding will admit nothing which is not becoming to Him who is described as acting, or to Him who records what is done. The Bridegroom, then, has drawn near to the wall, because He has united Himself to human flesh. The wall is human nature, and the drawing near of the Bridegroom is the Incarnation of the Word. The windows and the lattices by which He is said to look out are as, I think, the senses of the flesh, and the human affections and feelings by which Christ gained an experimental knowledge of human necessities. For He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows ( Is. liii. 4) . He has, then, made use of the human feelings and bodily senses as windows and openings, so to speak, by which, being a man, He might know by personal experience the miseries of men, and so become compassionate. He no doubt knew them also before, but after another manner. Being the Lord of virtues, He well knew the virtue of obedience ; and yet, according to the statement of the Apostle, He learned obedience by the things which He suffered ( Heb. v. 8). In this manner also He learned mercy, though the mercy of God is from all eternity. The Doctor of the Gentiles also teaches the same thing, when he asserts that the Saviour was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin, that He might be merciful ( Heb. iv. 15) . Do you see, then, how that was done which was already the fact, and how He learned that which He already knew; how He sought out for Himself, as it were, windows and openings in our nature by which He might become more intimately acquainted with our troubles and miseries ? He has found as many gaps in the walls of our nature, ruinous and full of fissures as they are, as He has had experiences in His own person [during His sojourn upon earth] of our infirmity and our corruption.

2. This, then, is how the Bridegroom, standing behind the wall, looks through the lattices and windows. Well is He represented as standing, since He alone who, being in the flesh, yielded in nothing to the sins of the flesh, can be said truly to have stood. We may also understand with confidence that, though He took upon Him the weakness of flesh, He stood firm in the power of His Divinity ; and we know that He Himself once said [of others] : The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak ( Matt. xxvi. 41). I think, also, that this interpretation is supported by what holy David, who was a prophet of the Lord, said of this mystery, speaking prophetically and of the Lord, though the subject he mentioned was Moses. For He is the true Moses, who came indeed by water ; and not by water only, but by water and blood. For this is what that Psalmist says : He said that Hewould destroy them ( he refers to God the Father) : had not Moses His chosen stood before Him in the breach, to turn away His wrath, lest He should destroy them (Ps. cvi. 23). But in what manner, let me ask, did Moses stand in the breach ? and, similarly, how could he stand, if he were broken down ? or, in the other alternative, how could he be broken down if he stood ? 1 But I will show you, if you will, who it was that truly stood in the breach. I know of no one who was able to do this except Jesus our Lord, who assuredly lived in death, who, though in Body broken (fractus) and shattered ; who in His Divinity stood erect with the Father, in the one supplicating, as being one with us ; in the other, propitiating, as being one with the Father. He stood, then, behind the wall, since that in Him which was in [the likeness of fallible flesh (jacebat) was manifested in the flesh, and that in Him which stood [and was not fallible], was hidden, as it were, behind the flesh, so that one and the same Person was to the outward eye a Man, and though His Divinity was concealed, was the Almighty God.

3. To each of us, also, who desire His Coming, He is, as I believe, still standing ' behind the wall,' as long as our body, which is assuredly a body of sin, hides His Face from us, and hinders our perception of His Presence, for a while. And this was the experience of the Apostle : Whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord ( 2 Cor. v. 6). Not because we are in a body simply, but in this body-namely, a body which is from sin, and is not without sin . And that you may know that it is not our bodies, but our sins, which are the obstacle between God and ourselves, hear the Scripture : Your iniquities have separated between you and your God ( Is. lix. 2) . And would to God that this one wall of the body were the only obstacle ; would that the sin which is in the flesh were the single barrier, and that many other walls and enclosures made by my vices did not also rise to shut me off from the Source of goodness. For I greatly fear lest, beside that obstacle which exists in my nature, I have added many others by my own iniquity, which have separated me only too far from the Bridegroom, so that, to speak the truth, I must confess that to me He stands behind many walls, and not behind one only.

4. But this I wish to state more plainly. The Bridegroom is indeed equally and indifferently present everywhere by the Omnipresence of His Divine Majesty, and by the Greatness of His Power. Nevertheless He is said to be, bythe showing forth or communication of His Grace, nearer to some among His reasonable creatures-that is to say, of Angels and men, and farther off from others. For Salvation isfarfrom the wicked (Ps. cxix. 155). And yet holy David says : Why standest Thou afar off, O Lord? (Ps. x. 1). But with the Saints, though He sometimes makes Himself to be, in a sense, at a distance from them, it is only partially and for a time, and even then it is by the dispensation of His goodness. But from sinners, from those of whom it is said in a Psalm : The tumult of those that rise up against Thee increaseth continually (Ps. lxxiv. 23) ; and, again : Their ways are always grievous (Ps. x. 5), from them He is always far removed, and that in anger, not in mercy. Wherefore the Psalmist prays to God: Hide not Thy Facefarfrom me ; put not Thy servant away in anger ( Ps. xxvii. 9) ; knowing that the Lord was able to turn away also in mercy. Therefore the Lord is near to His saints and His elect, even when He seems to be far from them ; nor does He draw near equally to all, but to some more, to others less, according to the difference of their merits. For although the Lord is near to all them who call upon Him in truth, and is beside those who are of humble heart, yet perhaps He is not so near to all as to enable them to say with the Bride that He standeth behind the wall. To her He is near indeed, for only a single wall separates them. Wherefore she desires to be dissolved, and the wall of division being thus broken through in the midst, to be with Him, who, as she confidently believes, is behind it.

5. But as for me, because I am a sinner, I am far from desiring to be dissolved, but, on the contrary, fear and tremble, knowing that the death of the wicked is very evil ( Ps. xxxiii. 22, Douay). How can that death be otherwise than very evil where the Life does not come to bring His succour ? I fear to go forth ; I tremble when at the very entrance of my wished-for harbour, as long as I have no confidence that I shall meet Jesus coming forth from it to receive and to help me. Can I in anywise go forth securely [from the body] if the Lord do not guard my passing away? Alas ! without His help to rescue and save me, I shall be intercepted by demons and made their sport. Nothing like this was to be feared by the soul of the Apostle Paul, between whom and the sight and embrace of the Beloved, one obstacle only interposed, namely, the law of sin, which he found in his members. This is the very concupiscence of the flesh, which he could not be altogether without, as long as he lived in the flesh . Yet it is certain that he did not wander far from the Lord, for this one wall only was interposed between them, wherefore he earnestly desired its removal, crying, Who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? ( Rom. vii. 24) knowing that by the short way ofdeath he should come at once to life. By this one law, then, only, namely, that of concupiscence, St. Paul confesses himself to be bound; and this he was obliged to endure, however unwillingly, because it was rooted in his flesh ; for the rest, he says, I know nothing by myself ( 1 Cor. iv. 4) .

6. But who is like unto St. Paul ? who, that is to say, does not sometimes consent unto concupiscence, and obey it, even unto sin ? Let him who has given the consent of his will to any sin know that in this unlawful and evil consent he has raised up another wall between God and himself. And a person in that condition cannot indulge in the happy thought that for him the Bridegroom standeth but behind the wall ; since, not one wall only, but several, intervene between them. Much less can he think this, if the consent of his will has passed into sinful action ; for thus a third wall is raised against the approach of the Bridegroom, and that wall is the act of sin. What if repetition should even convert the sin into a habit, and the habit should root itself in defiance and contempt of the law ? as it is written : The wicked man, when he is come into the depth of sins, contemneth (Prov. xviii. 3, Douay). Is it not true, that if you shall come into that state, you will be devoured a thousand times by the roaring lions which await their prey, and not be able to attain unto the Bridegroom from whom you are cut off by so great a number of walls ? Of these the first is concupiscence ; the second, consent of the will ; the third, the actual fact ; the fourth, the habit of sin ; the fifth, hardened indifference and contempt. Be careful, then, to resist with all your might the first approach of concupiscence, so that it may not draw you into an inward consent, and then the whole fabric of evil will disappear ; nor is there anything to hinder the drawing near to you of the Lord, who is the Bridegroom, except only the barrier formed by your body, and you will be able to glory with the Bride, and to say of Him : Behold, He standeth behind our wall.

7. But this one thing you must look to also with all vigilance, that He may always find open the windows, so to speak, and lattices of your nature-that is, your confessions of sins, so that by these He may look upon the secrets of your heart in His mercy and goodness, for the gaze of God is the advancement of your soul. For lattices (cancellos) are explained to be very narrow windows, such as those who are engaged in the writing of books are accustomed to make, so as to let the light fall upon the pages. For this reason it is, I suppose,. that those whose charge it is to draw up official documents are called Chancellors. Since, then, there are two kinds of compunction, the one from sorrow for our faults, the other from joy for the Divine mercies bestowed upon us, it seems to me that as often as I feel the one, which cannot be without anguish of heart-that is to say, as. often as I make confession of my sins, I throw open the lattice, that is, the narrower window of my heart. Nor is there any doubt that He, who is a kind and merciful Searcher of hearts, He who stands behind our wall, will look benignantly through that lattice; for a humble and contrite heart God will not despise (Ps. li. 17). And this He Himself bids us to do, saying by the Prophet : Declare thou [thy transgressions] that thou mayest be justified (Is. xliii. 25, 26). But if myheart is sometimes expanded with love and gratitude at the consideration of the condescension and goodness of God, and I desire to pour forth my feelings in the voice of praise and of giving of thanks, then I open, as I think, no longer a narrow aperture, but a broad and ample window to the Bridegroom, who ' standeth behind our wall, ' through which, I believe, He gazes with so much the more willingness and satisfaction, as He regards the sacrifice of praise as more to His honour. I have at hand passages out of the Scriptures, showing that He approves both one and the other kind of confession ; but I speak to those who are well instructed in those subjects, and you are not to be burdened with things unnecessary, since you have scarcely time for the investigation of those which are strictly needful. For very great indeed are the mysteries of this marriage song, and the proclamations of praise which are made in it to the honour of the Church, and of Him who is her Bridegroom, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

SEE the onward steps of grace, and mark the degrees of the Divine condescension. Notice the devotion and promptness of the Bride, with what a vigilant eye she observes the coming of her Spouse, and then notes very diligently even His smallest actions. He comes, He hastens, He draws near, He is present, He looks at, and then addresses, her ; and none of all these actions escapes the notice, or wearies the attention, of the Bride. He comes in the Angels, He hastens in the Patriarchs, He draws near in the Prophets, He is present in the Flesh, He has regard to the Church in miracles, and addresses her in the Apostles. Or we may explain it thus : He comes by the pity which He feels and the desire that He has to show mercy, He hastens by His zeal to bring help, He draws near to us by humbling Himself, He is present to each generation as it is present upon the earth, He has regard to those which are to come, He speaks of the things pertaining to the Kingdom of God (Acts i. 3), teaching and persuading. Of such a nature, then, is the Coming of the Bridegroom. The blessings and the riches of salvation accompany Him ; all things which are from Him are full of delights, and abound assuredly in joyful and salutary mysteries (sacramentis). She who loves Him watches and observes all these things. And blessed is that servant whom the Lord shall find watching. He shall not pass her by, He shall not pass away from her, He shall stay by her, and shall speak to her loving words, since He is, in truth, Her Beloved. And thus it is that you read here : My Beloved spake, and said to me. Well is He called her Beloved, who comes to speak to her, not words ofblame, but of comfort and love.

2. For here the question is not of those who are deservedly blamed by the Lord ; who know not how to discern the face of the sky, nor know at all the time of His Coming (Matt. xvi. 3). For the Bride] is so prudent and so full of foresight that she sees Him coming from afar, leaping, as it were, in His haste, and, passing over the proud to draw near to her in her humility, humbling Himself so to do. This she has observed with vigilant care ; and when at length He was at hand, yet concealed Himself, as it were, behind the wall, she, nevertheless, did not fail to recognise His Presence, and to discern that He looked in through the windows and lattices. Now, as a reward for her great devotion and religious care, she hears Him speaking ; for if He had looked upon her and not spoken, she would have suspected that the look was one of indignation rather than of love. It was thus that He looked upon Peter without speaking a word to him, and that was perhaps the reason why Peter went out and wept bitterly ( Luke xxii. 61 , 62), because the Lord had looked upon him in silence. But the Bride, who has deserved not only to behold Him but to hear His voice, is so far from weeping that she rejoices, and cries out in her joy : My Beloved spake, and said to me. You see that the look of the Lord, though in itself it remains always the same, is not always of the same effect, but varies according to the deservings of those upon whom He looks, so that, while it strikes some with fear, it imparts unto others consolation and security. On the one hand, He looks upon the earth, and it shaketh ( Ps. lxxvii. 16-18) ; on the other, He looks upon Mary, and it is to pour grace upon her. Hehath regarded, she says, the low estate of His handmaiden : for behold, from henceforth, all generations shall call me blessed ( Luke i. 48). These are not the words of one who weeps or trembles, but of one who rejoices. Similarly He is described here as looking upon the Bride, and she trembles not nor weeps like Peter, because she was not attached to things earthly, as at that time he was ; but He filled her heart with joy, testifying by His words the affection with which He regarded her.

3. Listen to the words which He addresses to her words, not of anger, but of affection : Rise up, my love, myfair one, and come away. Happy is the soul that may deserve to hear such words as these ! Is there anyone among us, do you think, who is so wakeful and observant of the time of his visitation, who watches so diligently for the coming of the Bridegroom, as, when He shall come and shall knock, to open the door of the heart unto Him at once ? For those words do not so apply unto the whole Church, as that we, who together make up the Church, should not have our individual share in these blessings. All of us are, in fact, called, whether severally or together, to this very end, that we should possess blessings as an heritage. Wherefore also the Psalmist dared to say unto the Lord : Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever, for they are the rejoicing of my heart (Ps. cxix. 111 ). He speaks, I think, of that heritage on account of which he claimed to be the son of his Father which is in Heaven. And if a son, then an heir-heir of God, and joint-heir with Christ. And in that heritage he glories that he has acquired a thing of great price-the testimonies of the Lord. Would.. to God that I might be found worthy to possess for myself one testimony only of the Lord ! Though he exults not in one only, but in many, and says again : Ihave rejoiced in the way of Thy testimonies as much as in all riches (Ps. cxix. 14). And, in truth, what is it that forms the riches of salvation, the delight of the heart, the true and safe security of the soul, except the testimonies which it has from the Lord ? For not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth ( 2 Cor. x. 18) .

4. Why, then, do we hitherto defraud ourselves of these Divine testimonies or commendations, and deprive ourselves of this our paternal heritage? As if the Father had not at all begotten us of His own will with the Word of Truth (James i. 18), so we in no respect keep in remembrance the assurance that has been rendered to us of this, nor His testimonies concerning us. Where is that of which the Apostle says : The Spirit Itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God (Rom. viii. 16). How are we children if we are without the heritage of children ? Our poverty itself clearly convicts us of negligence and carelessness of our privileges . For if any ofus brings a heart pure and perfect, according to the word of the Wise Man, to seek at daybreak the Lord who created him, and will pray before the Most High (Ecclus. xxxix. 5), and studies in all his petitions to prepare the ways of the Lord-according to the word ofthe prophet Isaiah (xl. 3), to make straight a highway for our God ; in whose power it is to say with the Psalmist : Mine eyes are ever toward the Lord ( Ps. xxv. 15), and for this reason, that I have set the Lord always before me (Ps. xvi . 8), will not he receive blessing from the Lordand righteousness from the God ofhis salvation ? (Ps. xxiv. 5). He shall, without doubt, be frequently visited, nor shall he ever be ignorant of the time of his visitation, however secretly and noiselessly his spiritual visitor, in His modest reserve, may come. The soul, then, that is watchful and disengaged from other cares shall see Him coming from afar, and shall discern in due course all the incidents which, as we have said, the Bride has remarked with as much precision as skill in the coming of the Bridegroom, for He says : Those that seek Me early shallfind Me (Prov. viii. 17). She will recognise the earnestness and rapid approach of her Bridegroom ; she will know at once when He is drawing near, or when He is actually present ; when He looks upon her she will perceive with a happy eye that Divine gaze, as it were a ray of sunlight penetrating through the windows and the openings of her wall ; and at length will hear His accents of joy and of affection, calling her His beloved, His dove, His fair one.

5. Who is wise and will understand these things, so as to be able to distinguish them, to define them each in its turn, and to explain them worthily to make others understand them also ? If you hope for that from me, I, for my part, would rather listen to someone who has experience, who is fully conversant with, and accustomed to, such subjects. But since such men as this frequently prefer to hide in a modest silence what they have in silence learned, and judge it the safer course to keep to themselves their secret lore, I, the duty ofwhose charge obliges me to speak, and to whom it is not permitted to be silent, will declare what I know of these matters, either from my own experience or that of others, keeping to truths which most people may easily verify for themselves, and leaving higher and deeper ones for such as are able to apprehend them. If, then, I have been warned, either from without by a man, or inwardly by the Spirit, to have regard to righteousness, and to observe equity, I must consider that salutary counsel as a token of the speedy coming of the Bridegroom, and a kind of preparation for the worthy receiving of that heavenly Guest. This is what I am taught by the Psalmist when he says that Righteousness shall go before Him ( Ps. lxxxv. 14) ; and again, when addressing God :Justice andjudgment are the preparation ofThy throne (Ps. lxxxviii. 15, Douay). Nor will the same hope fail if the counsel that I hear be of humility, or of patience, or, again, of brotherly charity and obedience to those set over me, and especially if it be of following holiness and peace, and of seeking pureness of heart, because a Scripture saith : Holiness becometh the House of the Lord ( Ps. xciii. 5) ; and again : His place is in peace (Ps. lxxv. 3, Douay) ; and : The pure in heart shall see God ( Matt. v. 8). Therefore whatsoever shall be suggested to my mind of these or of other virtues shall be to me, as I have said, for an intimation that the Lord of virtues is about to visit my soul.

6. But if a righteous man shall reprove me in loving-kindness, and correct me, I shall draw the same inference, knowing that the zeal of the righteous, and his goodwill, make a way for Him who ascendeth upon the west ( Ps. lxvii. 5, Douay). Happy is that fall, since a man rises again, and stands by the correction of one who is righteous ; since it is his sin that falls, and the Lord ascends upon it, treading it under His feet, and crushing it so that it rises not again. The reproof of the righteous is therefore not to be scorned ; it is the destruction of sin, health to the heart, and, as it were, the path of God towards the soul. Speaking generally, it is not safe to listen negligently to any discourse which tends to edification in piety, in virtues, in a good and holy character, since it is the way by which is shown the salvation of God ( Ps. 1. 23). If a discourse which we hear be sweet and agreeable to us, if we listen to it without distaste and even with ardour, then we ought to believe, not only that the Bridegroom is coming to us, but that He is hastening-that is, is coming with eager wish [to be received in our soul]. For His wish produces yours, and that you hasten to receive His discourse comes from His eager haste to enter into your soul ; for we did not first love Him, but, as St. John declares : Hefirst loved us ( 1 John iv. 10). If, then, you feel that His word is, as it were, a burning flame, and that your conscience is so touched by it as to burn within you at the remembrance of your sin, remember what the Scripture saith that afire goeth before Him (Ps. xcvii. 3) ; and do not doubt that He is near you. And, indeed, we know from another Psalm that the Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart (Ps. xxxiv. 18).

7. But if you are not only touched with penitence by His Word, but also wholly converted to the Lord, so that you resolve and vow to keep the statutes of His righteousness, know, then, that He is Himself present, and especially if you feel yourself glowing with the love of Him. You meet in Scripture with each of these statements concerning Him-namely, that fire goeth before Him, and that He Himself is a fire. For Moses says of Him expressly that He is aconsuming fire ( Deut. iv. 24). But there is a difference between these two : for that fire which precedes the Lord has ardour, but not love; it burns, but it does not dissolve ; it moves that which it touches, but does not carry it wholly away. It is sent before Him by God only to arouse and prepare you, and also to make you aware of what you are in yourself, so that you may taste with the greater pleasure what you shall be hereafter by the grace of God. But that Fire which is God Himself consumes indeed, but causes no pain ; it burns that which it takes possession of, but with a sweetness wonderful and indescribable ; it destroys, and in destroying confers the supreme felicity. For it is truly a consuming fire ; but though as a fire it burns up vices, yet in the soul it acts as a healing unction. Recognise, then, the presence of the Lord in the virtue which changes your heart, and in the love which fires it. For the Right Hand of the Lord worketh virtue (Ps. cxviii. 16). But this change worked by the Right Hand of the Most High takes place only in fervour of spirit, and in charity unfeigned, so that he who experiences it may say : My heart was hot within me, and while I was thus musing the fire burned (Ps. xxxix. 3).

8. When, then, by this fire has been consumed every taint of sin and all the stains of past vices, when the conscience is purified and calmed, there follows a sudden and unusual extension of the mind, an infusion of light which illuminates the intellect either to the knowledge of the Scriptures, or to the comprehension of mysteries ; whereof the one is bestowed, I think, for our own satisfaction, the other for the edification of our neighbour ; that is, doubtless, the effect of the Divine Eye looking upon us, bringing forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday (Ps. xxxvii. 6), according to that prophecy of Isaiah : Then shall thy light breakforth as the morning ( Is. lviii. 8). But, in truth, that ray of brightness so great shall penetrate not as through open doors, but through small and narrow apertures, at least, as long as that ruinous and tottering wall, that is, thy body, shall endure. You mistake if you think that it shall be otherwise, to whatever degree of purity of heart you may attain, since he who had meditated so deeply upon heavenly things says : Nowwe see through a glass, darkly : but thenface toface ( 1 Cor. xi. 12).

9. After this Divine look, so full of condescension and goodness, comes a Voice, gently and sweetly presenting to the mind the Will of God; and this is no other than Love itself, nor can it be withouteffect in soliciting and persuading to the fulfilment of those things which God requires. Thus the Bride hears that she is to arise and hasten, no doubt to work for the good of souls. This is indeed a property of true and pure contemplation that it sometimes fills the mind, which is warmed with Divine fire, with a fervent zeal and desire to gain for God those who are of a like mind in loving Him, ' and to that end it very willingly lays aside the calm and rest of VISITATIONS OF THE LORD TO BE REVERENTLY OBSERVED 345meditation for the labour of preaching ; and again, when it has attained the object desired, to a certain extent, returns with increased eagerness to that contemplation, which it remembers that it laid aside for the purpose of gaining more fruit. Then, when it has tasted again the delights of contemplation, it recurs with increased power, and with its accustomed willingness, to its labours for the good of souls. But the soul frequently hesitates between these continual changes, being profoundly anxious and fearful, lest when drawn to one or the other of these alternatives by the attractions and advantages which it discerns in each it should deviate ever so little from the Divine will. It was perhaps something of this kind that holy Job suffered, when he said : When I lie down, I say, when shall Iarise ? and again, I shall look for the evening (Job vii. 4, Douay) ; that is to say, when I am in repose I accuse myself of having neglected some work ; and when busied in work, of having disturbed my repose. You see that even a holy man feels grave uncertainty between the claims of fruitful labour and of restful contemplation ; and although he is always occupied about good things, yet he always feels a sense of regret as if he had been doing that which is wrong, and from one moment to another intreats with tears and sighing to be shown the Will of God. In these uncertainties, the one and only remedy is prayer and frequent upliftings of the soul to God, that He would deign to make continually known to us what we ought to do, and when, how, and in what manner we should do it. You have, as I think, these three things pointed out and commended in these three words of the Bridegroom-namely, preaching, prayer, and contemplation. For the Bride is fitly called My love, since she faithfully studies [to bring about] those objects which are dear to Him, by preaching, by advising, by ministering. Fitly also My dove, since she sighs and plains continually in prayer, entreating the Divine mercy without ceasing for her sins. And fitly, again, My fair one, since she is all bright and shining with heavenly desires, and devotes herself to celestial contemplation at all times that it is proper and opportune to do so ; thus she enfolds herself more and more in their glory and beauty.

10. Let us see, however, if these three words describing that threefold blessing, which may be attained by one and the same soul, can be set in relation with those three persons spoken of in the Gospel, who dwelt in the same house, who were friends, and indeed very intimate friends of the Saviour. I refer to Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. For Martha served, Mary remained quiescent in contemplation, and Lazarus groaned, as it were, under the weight of death and of the stone that shut close his grave, and earnestly begged for the grace of the Resurrection ( Luke x. 38-42, and John xi.). These things have been said on this account, because the Bride is described as being so watchful and so skilful in observing the paths of the Bridegroom that it cannot be concealed from her at what time, and with what degree of haste He will come to her. Whether He be 346 SERMONS afar off, or be drawing near, or be present, by no degree of suddenness can she be taken by surprise ; and on that account she has merited. not only to be looked upon with favour, but that her Spouse should deign to make her glad with accents of love, and to give her great joy because of His Voice.

11. I have added, somewhat boldly perhaps, to this that every soul (as, for example, among ourselves) which shall watch with the Bride, shall with her be saluted as well-beloved, consoled as dove, embraced asfair. Every man shall be counted as perfect in whose soul these three things shall be united with all fitness and propriety, so that he shall know how to repent for his own faults and failings, to rejoice in God, and at the same time to assist his neighbours with all his power ; and thus to show himself pleasing to God, circumspect with regard to himself, and useful to others. But who is capable of uniting these three ? Would that even after long years they might be found united among us ; I do not say all together in each of us, but at least each of them in some of us ! We have indeed among us a Martha, the friend, so to speak, of the Saviour, in those who faithfully administer our external affairs. We have a Lazarus (as it were), a mourning and plaining dove, in our novices, who, lately dead in trespasses and sins, labour and mourn under wounds yet recent, and from fear of the Divine judgment, and as those who, wounded unto the death, sleep in the tomb, and are out of the remembrance of all, as they themselves no longer believe that they are borne in mind, until at the bidding of Christ the fear which pressed them down as a heavy stone upon the mouth of a tomb is rolled away, and they are able to breathe in the hope of pardon. We have also a contemplative Mary in those who, in the course of a longer time, and by the cooperation of grace, have been able to attain unto a better and happier state, to presume already that the Divine pardon will be extended to them, and instead of anxiously reflecting upon their offences, to meditate day and night with delight upon the law of God, and never to grow weary of it. Sometimes, even, as they contemplate with ineffable joy the glory of the Lord the Bridegroom, they are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor. iii . 18) . Now, to what purpose He bids the Bride to rise and come away, while but a little before He had forbidden that she should be aroused from her sleep, we must examine in another sermon. May He be present with us in the inquiry, and deign to reveal to us the reason of that mystery ; He, I mean, who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN. THE RULE AND TRAINING OF SOULS 347

WHO says this? Without doubt it is the Bridegroom. But is it not He who, a little time before, so strongly forbade that His beloved should be aroused ? How, then, is it that now He bids her not only rise up, but ' come away ?' Something like this comes into my mind from the Gospel. In the night on which Our Lord was betrayed, after having bidden His disciples who were with Him, and who were fatigued with long watchings, at length to sleep and take their rest, in the very same hour He said to them, Rise, let us be going; behold, he is at hand that doth betray Me (Matt. xxvi. 46). Now, also, He similarly, almost at the same moment, forbids the Bride to be aroused, and arouses her. Rise up, He says, and come away. What, then, is the object of so sudden a change of will, or of plan ? Must we suppose that the Bridegroom acted with levity, and desired something at first, which immediately afterwards He desired not ? By no means. But recognise in this what I have said to you more than once, if you remember, about the two alternatives of sacred repose and of necessary action, and that there is not in this life space for lengthened contemplation, or prolonged repose, because the duties of office and the usefulness of work press upon us more urgently, and are more immediately necessary. The Bridegroom, therefore, as is His wont, when His beloved has been for a while reposing in sacred communion with Him, does not delay to summon her to duties which seem to be more needful. Not as if this were against her will, for what He forbade to be done by others (ii . 7) He would not Himself do ; but for the Bride to know a wish of her Bridegroom is for her at once to feel the desire to be enabled to fulfil it (i. 4), the desire for good works, the desire to bear fruit to the honour and glory of Him ; since for her to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

2. And that desire is vehement ; it bids her not only rise, but rise in all haste, for we read : Rise up, and come away. Nor is it a small comfort and strength to her that she hears : Come, and not ' Go,' because she understands by this that she is not so much sent, as led, 1 Some recent editions add the words surgere cogit, which words are wanting in most MSS. , and in the earliest editions. And, indeed, the text is smoother and more compact without them. and that the Bridegroom will be with her. What task can she think difficult with such a companion ? Set me beside Thee, she says, and let any man's handfight against me ( Job xvii. 3, Douay). And again : Though Iwalk through the valley of the shadow of death Iwill fear no evil, for Thou art with me (Ps. xxiii. 4). She is not, then, aroused against her will, since her Lord bestows upon her previously the will to be aroused; nor is this anything else than an ardent desire to grow and increase in all that is good. She is also animated and rendered more prompt to do that which is enjoined upon her, by the opportunity of the time. ' It is now the time to act, O My Bride, ' the Bridegroom seems to say, ' for lo, the winter is past, during which no one was able to work. The rain, too, is over and gone ; the rain, which covered the earth with its floods, hindered the culture of the soil, and either destroyed the corn sown, or prevented the harvests being reaped ; the rain, I say, has departed, it is over and gone ; the flowers appearon the earth, and this is a sign that the season of spring has come, that toil out of doors is safe and convenient, and that fruits and harvests are near. Then He adds, where this toil should begin, and to what end it should be directed : The time of pruning is come (ii. 12, Douay). She is then led to the cultivation of the vines, and in order that these may respond to the hope of the vine-dressers by an increased abundance of fruit, it is before all things necessary that the barren boughs should be cut out, the hurtful ones lopped, and those which are unnecessary pruned. This, then, is the literal sense.

3. Let us now see what is the spiritual meaning hidden, as it were, under this narrative of an historical kind. I have already said to you, and you took note of it, so that you do not need to hear it again, that vines signify souls, or Churches ; and I gave also at the same time the reason for this. The more perfect soul is then invited to examine these, to correct them, and to instruct them, to the end that they may be saved ; yet this ministry is allotted to it, not undertaken as a matter of ambition, but because called to it by God, as was Aaron. Furthermore, what is this invitation but a certain inward movement of charity, leading us piously to care for the salvation of our brethren, for the beauty of the house of the Lord, for its increase in spiritual gains and in the fruits of righteousness, and for the praise and glory of His Name ? As often, then, as one whose duty calls upon him to take the direction of souls, or to instruct them by the delivery of sermons, feels his inner man thus touched with religious sentiments towards God, so often he may understand certainly that the Bridegroom is present with him, and is inviting him to the care and culture of His vines. But to what end ? That he may root up and destroy, that he may plant and edify.

4. But since for this task, as for every task under heaven, not every time, or every kind of weather, is fit and suitable, so He who gives the invitation adds also ' the time of pruning is come.' He knew well that this time was come who said : Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation; giving no offence in anything; that the ministry be not blamed ( 2 Cor. vi. 2). His warning, without doubt, was to prune, and even to cut off, everything faulty and superfluous and that was able to give even the least offence, and to hinder the fruit of salvation, because he knew that the time of pruning had come. That was why he said to the faithful cultivator of these vines, Reprove, rebuke, exhort ( 2 Tim. iv. 2), indicating by the first and second of these words the practice of pruning or even cutting off, and by the third that of planting. And this, indeed, is said by the Bridegroom through the mouth of St. Paul, as to the time of working. But listen to what He has Himself said as to the proper discrimination of times and seasons, to those souls which were, so to speak, new Brides, though this was spoken under another metaphor : Say not ye, There are yetfour months, and then cometh harvest? behold, Isay unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for they are white already to harvest ( John iv. 35) ; and again : The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few ; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that Hewill send forth labourers into His harvest ( Matt. ix. 37). Just as then He pointed out that it was time to reap the harvest of souls, so here He declares that it is the time to prune and to cultivate these spiritual vines, that is, souls or Churches, wishing, perhaps, by the difference of the names of which He makes use that we should understand by harvests, peoples, and by vines, societies of saints dwelling together.

5. Now, the time of winter, which He says has passed, seems to me to signify that period during which the Lord Jesus did not walk openly, because the Jews conspired against Him, and sought to kill Him . Wherefore He said to certain of them, My time has notyet come ; but your time is always ready ; and again : Igo not up yet unto this feast; for My time is not yet full come (John vii. 6-8). Yet He afterwards went up, though not openly, but, as it were, in secret. The winter, then, endured from that time until the coming of the Holy Spirit, who aroused into warmth the torpid hearts of the faithful, and was, as it were, that fire which the Lord came to send upon the earth ( Luke xii . 49) for this very end. Would you deny that it was then winter when Peter sat beside the fire of coals, being ice-cold in heart as well as in body ? The Scripture says expressly, It was cold(John xviii. 18). Great, in truth, was the cold which lay at the heart of him who denied his Master, cramping its throbs with deadly grasp. Nor was this strange, since the fire had been taken away from it. A little time before he was aflame with fervent zeal, being then beside Him who is the Fire, so that, in order not to lose Him, he drew his sword and cut off a servant's ear. But that was not the time for pruning, and therefore the Saviour said, Put up thy swordinto the sheath (John xviii. 11 ) . For that was the hour and the power of darkness ; and whosoever of His disciples had then lifted up the sword, whether of steel or of the Word, would either have perished by the sword, and thus have been of service to no one, and have borne no fruit, or at least have been constrained to apostasy by the fear of the sword, and thus to perish the more surely himself, according to the word of the Lord spoken immediately afterwards : All they that take the sword shallperish with the sword ( Matt. xxvi. 51). For which of the others could have stood undismayed before the terrible image of death, when their prince himself, whom the great Leader of their salvation had forearmed with His puissant Voice, and forewarned to strengthen his brethren, when even he trembled and fled ?

6. But neither he nor they had as yet been filled with power from on high ; and for this reason it was not safe for them to go forth among the vines, to make use of the spiritual hoe and pruning-knife --that is, the inspired tongue and the sword of the Spirit-to prune the boughs and cut back the young shoots so that they may bear more fruit. And, lastly, the Lord Himself was silent during His Passion, and when interrogated about many things, answered not (Matt. xxvii. 12), being made, as says the Psalmist, as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs ( Ps. xxxviii. 14). And indeed He said : IfItellyou, ye will not believe : and if Ialso answer you, ye will not answer Me ( Luke xxii. 67, 68), knowing that the time of pruning had not yet come, and that His vine would not respond at all to labours bestowed upon it, that is to say, would not produce the fruit either of faith or of good works. Wherefore ? Because it was winter in the hearts of the perfidious, and the winter rains of malice and evil had overspread the earth, more calculated to drown than to foster the seeds of the Word that were sown ; and these would render profitless any labour that was undertaken for the culture of the vines.

7. Of what rains, do you think, am I now speaking ? Of those which we see that are carried hither and thither by strong winds, and which the clouds at length let fall upon the earth ? By no means. I speak of those which men of a turbulent spirit cause to rise from the earth into the air, when they open their mouth against the heaven, and with their tongue go through the world ; and thus, like sour and bitter showers, make the earth marshy and barren, useless for cultivated plants, though not, indeed, for that wild herbage, visible and exuberant, which is bestowed by God for bodily uses, and of which He takes care only for the beasts of the field. For what plants, then, does God care ? For those assuredly which His Hand, and not that of man, has sown and planted, which can germinate and take root in faith and charity, and bring forth fruits unto salvation, if they be watered by good and seasonable rains. They are, in fact, souls for which Christ died. Unhappy are the clouds which let fall upon these rains such as I have described, which cause only mud, and do not help on fertility. For as there are good trees which bear good fruits, and evil trees which bear evil fruits, the difference in the fruits corresponding to that in the trees which bear them, so, as I think, there may be clouds which are good, and let fall benign showers, and others which are evil, and let fall injurious ones. Perhaps it may have been to indicate this difference in the character of clouds, and of the showers they let fall, that a Prophet has these words as spoken by the Lord : I will commandMy clouds that they rain no rain upon it (that is, upon His vineyard) (Is. v. 6) . For why, do you think, does He add so significantly My clouds, unless there were also evil clouds which are not His ? Away with Him ! away with Him ! Crucify Him ! cry the Jews (John xix. 15) . O clouds full of violence and storm ! O rain laden with tempests ! O torrent of iniquity, fitter to ravage the earth than to make it fat ! Not less evil nor less bitter, though it did not fall with equal violence, was that which followed : He saved others ; Himself He cannot save. If He be the King of Israel, let Him now come down from the Cross, and we will believe Him ( Matt. xxvii. 40) . Nor was the windy loquacity of the philosophers a shower of good, for it brought barrenness, rather than fertility, upon the lands. Much more are the evil doctrines of heretics evil rains, producing thorns and thistles instead of harvests of good grain. Evil rains also were the traditions of the Pharisees, which the Saviour condemned ; and they themselves were as injurious clouds. And do not suppose that I do injustice to Moses (who must himself be regarded as a beneficent cloud) when I say that not every shower that fell from him can be called good ; for, otherwise, I should contradict Him who says : I gave them also (that is, to the Jews) statutes that were not good, and judgments (and doubtless this refers to those given by Moses) whereby they should not live (Ezek. xx. 25). Such was, for example, that literal observance of the Sabbath which, though the word signifies rest, did not bring them rest; the rigid system of offering sacrifices, the prohibition to eat the flesh of swine, and of other animals, which were similarly pronounced unclean by Moses ; all these were showers , so to speak, falling from the same cloud ; but I would not that they should fall upon any field or garden of mine. They were doubtless good in their time ; but that time having passed, I do not hold them to be good now. For every shower, however soft, or however gently it falls, is injurious if it be unseasonable.

8. Thus, as long as such harmful rains had flooded and occupied the land with their weight, the time favourable for the vine had not yet come, nor did it come to pass that the Bride was invited to the task of its culture. But when they had passed away, and the dry earth appeared with its carpet of flowers, this was the sign that the season of culture had come. When was this, do you inquire ? When, indeed, except in that season which saw the Flesh of Christ taking life again, and as it were reflowing, in the Resurrection. He is the first and chiefest Flower of the human race which has ever appeared on earth. For the Christ is called the firstfruits ofthem that slept ( 1 Cor. xv. 20). Jesus, I say, is the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys ( ii. 1 ) , He who was supposed the Son of Joseph, He who was Jesus of Nazareth, which itself means a flower [ or branch]. He then appeared as the first Flower of the Resurrection ; but He did not appear alone. For many bodies of the saints who slept arose with Him, and appeared upon our earth as bright and shining flowers. They went, in truth, into the Holy City, and appeared unto many (Matt. xxvii. 52, 53). Those, too, who first believed from among the people, the firstfruits of the saints, they were flowers. Their flowers were miracles which, like flowers, produced the fruits of faith. For after that rain of unbelief had a little passed, and had at least in part rolled away and ceased, then speedily followed that shower of grace (voluntaria) which the Lord reserved to His inheritance ( Ps . lxviii. 9), and flowers began to appear. The Lord gave His blessing, and our earth yielded her flowers, so that in one day three thousand of the people believed, and in another they were five thousand (Acts ii. 41, and iv. 4) ; in so short a time did the number of flowers, that is, the multitude of believers, increase. Nor was the cold and frost able to prevail against the flowers which appeared, nor could it cause to perish, as is frequently the case, the fruit of life of which they gave promise.

9. For since all those who believed were filled with power from on high, there arose among them those who, strong in the faith, contemned the threats of men. They suffered, indeed, very many opposers ; but they yielded not, nor ceased from proclaiming, to the utmost of their power, the great works of God. It is that which is spoken of in a Psalm, if it may be spiritually interpreted : They sow the fields, and plant vineyards, which mayyield fruits of increase (Ps. cvii. 37) . In course of time the tempest was stilled, and, peace being restored to the earth, vines grew, and were propagated, and increased and multiplied beyond number. And then at length the Bride is invited, not, indeed, to plant the vines, but to prune and cultivate those already planted. And that was in due season, for the task required a time of peace. How could it be performed in time of persecution ? How was it possible [for the saints] to take in their hands two-edged swords, to execute vengeance upon the heathen, andpunishments upon the people, to bind their kings with chains, and their nobles withfetters of iron, to execute upon them thejudgment written (Ps. cxlix. 6-9)-for all this is to be included in the task of pruning the vines ; all these things are scarcely to be performed in peace even in a time of peace. So much for this subject.

10. This discourse might come to a close here if, according to my custom, I had given to each of you some words of counsel and warning 'with regard to the care of his own vineyard. For who has cut away, even to the quick (ad unguem), all things in himself which are superfluous, so as to have nothing which requires to be farther pruned ? Believe me, those [evil tendencies] which are cut down shoot up again ; those which have been driven away return ; the fires which have been extinguished are, in a while, rekindled ; and those desires which seemed fast asleep awake again. It is of little avail, therefore, to have pruned once ; we must prune frequently, nay, if it were possible, always ; because if you are honest with yourself, you will always find something within requiring to be sternly repressed. Whatever spiritual progress you may make while you remain in this body, you err if you suppose that sins and vices are dead in you, because they are suppressed. Whether you are willing, or unwilling, the Jebusite dwells within your borders (Judg. i . 21 ) ; he may be subjugated, but cannot be exterminated. Iknow, says the Apostle, that in me dwelleth no good thing. But that is little in comparison with the confession which he goes on to make -that evil dwells in him. For he adds : The good that Iwould, I do not; but the evil which Iwould not, that Ido. Now, if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me (Rom. vii. 15-17). Either, then, prefer yourself to the Apostle (for he it is who speaks thus), or confess with him that you, too, are not without indwelling sins. Now, virtue maintains the mid-place between impulses which, if yielded to in excess, become wrong ; and thus it is that you have need, not only of sedulous self-denial, but also of circumcision. Otherwise, it is to be feared that our vine, being closely enfolded, or rather gnawed, by the vices which surround it on every side, should languish little by little without our perceiving it, or, if they get the upper hand, should be altogether suffocated. In face of so great a peril, I have but one counsel to give that you watch with the greatest care, and cut away with prompt severity the first shoots of reviving vices as soon as they shall make their appearance. Virtue cannot increase at the same time with vice ; and if the one flourish, it will not suffer the other to increase. Take away things superfluous, and those which conduce to salvation will have vigorous growth. Whatever you take away from things which minister only to pleasure, you add to those which minister to the soul's benefit. Let us give to selfdenial its perfect work, and cut off the satisfaction of our desires and lusts that virtue may be strengthened thereby.

11. It is always, then, the time of pruning with us, my brethren, because there is always need of pruning ; and I trust that with us , too, the time of winter has now passed away. Do you know of what winter I speak ? Of that fear which is not joined with charity -which leads all to the beginning of wisdom, but perfects no one in it ; inasmuch as advancing love casts out fear, as the spring banishes the winter. For the love of God is the spring of the soul, and if it has come to us, or, rather, because it has come to us (as it is just that I should consider is the case with you), all the winter rain must needs be dried : that is, all the anxious weeping which the bitter remembrance of past sin, and the fearful looking for of judgment, have drawn forth. Therefore (and I assert this without hesitation of most of you, if not of all) this winter rain has passed away, it is over and gone : and the flowers which are the signs of the milder and sweeter showers of spring begin to appear. For spring, too, has its showers, 1 Mabillon omits bonum, with the earliest printed editions, and with five of the best MSS. , as he says ; the others admit the word, following, of course, the Vulgate, from which St. Bernard professedly quotes. It is obvious, also, that his argument requires the words ' good' and ' evil, and is incomplete without them.- ED. but these are sweet and fruitful. What is there more sweet and comforting than the tears of charity ? The weeping of charity is inspired by love, and not by grief; it comes of the very depth of longing, or of the sympathy felt with those who weep. I do not doubt that with such a gracious rain as this your acts of obedience are bedewed ; and I behold with joy that, far from being disfigured by murmuring, by sullenness and reluctance, they are accompanied by a spiritual gladness which renders them enlivening and happy. They are as flowers that you bear always in your hands.

12. If, then, the winter has passed ; if the rain is over and gone ; if flowers have at length appeared on our earth, and the sweetness and gentleness of grace, as a spiritual spring, indicates that the time of pruning for the vine has come, what remains but that we should set ourselves with all our strength to the doing of this work, so sacred and so necessary ? Let us, as says the prophet, search and try our ways ( Lam. iii. 40), and our disposition, so that each of us may consider himself to have made progress, not in supposing that there is nothing in him to blame, but in blaming and correcting that which he has found. If you have learned that there is an ever fresh need to examine yourself, your selfexamination will not be perfunctory and useless ; and as often as you shall have found that there is good reason for your scrutiny, so often will you feel that it ought to be repeated. If, then, you do this whenever there is need of it, you will do it always . Remember, in conclusion, that you have always need of help from on high, and of the mercy of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS Christ our Lord, who is, above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

AM obliged to allow that this is the second time that He who is of the heaven speaks of the earth ; and that He mentions it with as much intimate knowledge of it, as affection, as if He were one of its citizens. It is the Bridegroom who speaks ; and as, when He observed that the flowers had appeared, He did not say simply ' on the earth, ' but ' on our earth,' so now He says : ' The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. What can, then, be the reason for a mode of speech so unusual, not to say so unworthy of God ? You will nowhere find, I think, that He has spoken thus of heaven, and that in no other place has He done so of earth. Observe, then, how kind and sweet it is of the God of heaven to say our earth.' Listen, sons of men and earth-born ones : The Lord hath done great things for us (Ps. cxxvi. 3). He has a close relation with the earth, and with the Bride, whom it has pleased Him to draw from the earth to associate closely with Himself. Thus it is that He says our land. This phrase is not one of sovereignty, but of familiarity and of alliance. He speaks thus not as Lord, but as Bridegroom. What ? He is Creator, and yet regards Himself as companion ! It is Love that speaks, and love knows nothing of mastership. For this Song is a song of love, and it is appropriate to fill it with loving speeches only. Also this love is of God ; nor has He it from any other than Himself, because He is the Source of love. And it is so much the more powerful and vigorous, inasmuch as He and love are but one. But those whom He loves, He treats as friends, not as servants. From being the Master, He becomes the Friend ; for He would not call His disciples His friends, unless they were so in reality.

2. Do you perceive that even His Majesty yields to His Love ? It is so, indeed, brethren ; love looks up to no one, but neither does it look down upon any. It regards with an equal eye all who are united among themselves by a perfect bond of love ; it combines together in its own self the loftiest with the lowest ; nor does it merely make them to be equals, but makes them to be one. You think perhaps that God is excepted from this rule of love ; but do you not know that he that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit ( 1 Cor. vi. 17) ? Why do you wonder at this ? He is made to be, as it were, one of us ; and yet it is too little to say this, for He is made, not, as it were, one of us, but one of us in truth. It is too little for Him to be made equal to men ; He is Himself made a man. Thus it is that He claims our earth as His, not as a mere possession, but as His birthplace and fatherland. Why should He not so claim it? It is from thence that He takes His Bride ; thence is the substance of His Body ; thence does He become a Bridegroom ; and since He and His Bride are one flesh ( Gen. ii. 4 ; Matt. xix. 5), why should they not have one fatherland also ? The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord's, saith the Psalmist ; but the earth hath He given to the children of men (Ps. cxv. 16). It is, then, as Son of Man that He inherits the earth, as being Lord He has it in His power, as Creator He administers it , and as Bridegroom He shares it with His Bride. In saying, then, our land, He shows that He disclaims the possession of it in sole proprietorship, and does not disdain to share it with another. It is on this account that the Bridegroom so benignantly uses this phrase, and deigns to say our land. Now let us go on to consider other things .

3. The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. This is a sign that the winter has passed, a warning that the time of pruning and culture is at hand. That is according to the letter. Taking it in another sense, the voice of the turtle is not sweet in itself, but it announces things which are sweet. This is a little bird, and not of great cost to buy ; yet, if you consider the matter, it is of no small value. Its voice resembles more a moan of pain than a song of gladness, and this recalls to us our state of pilgrimage. Willingly do I listen to the voice of a preacher who arouses, not applauses for himself, but grief and sorrow for sin, in me. If you teach others to mourn, you will show yourself truly like the turtle ; and if you desire to be persuasive [to penitence], you must effect this, not by declamation, but by being unfeignedly penitent yourself. Example is especially in this matter, as in many others, far more effectual than precept. Your voice will be persuasive and powerful if it be known that you are persuaded yourself of that which you are endeavouring to enforce on others. Actions speak louder and more effectivelythan words. Practise yourself what you urge upon others, and you will not only correct more easily what is wrong in me, but will free yourself from a great responsibility. It will not, then, apply to you if any should say : They bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders : but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers ( Matt. xxiii. 4). Nor need you fear that reproach : Thou, therefore, which teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? (Rom. ii. 21).

4. The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. As long as men have received their reward for the worship which they render unto God only in the earth, and that land which flows with milk and honey, they do not at all realize that they are strangers and pilgrims upon the earth, nor mourn as the turtle in sad remembrance of their own country ; but on the contrary, misusing the place of their exile as if it were their country and home, they have set themselves to eat the fat things of it, and drink the sweet. Thus it is that so long a time passes without the voice of the turtle being heard in our land. But when the promise of the kingdom of heaven has been made, when men have realized that they have not here a continuing city, and have begun to seek eagerly for that which is to come, then first the voice of the turtle is plainly heard sounding in the land. For when a holy soul sighs for the Presence of Christ, when it endures with pain to see the possession of His Kingdom deferred, when it hails from afar with sighs and groans the dear land it longs for, does it not seem to you that each soul which so bears itself on earth is as the chaste turtle which sits apart and utters its mournful note ? Then it is, and thenceforward, that the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. How can it be otherwise than that the absence of Christ should move me to frequent tears and daily groanings ? Lord, all my desire is before Thee : and my groaning is not hid from Thee (Ps. xxxviii. 9) . Thou knowest, O Lord, Iam wearywith my groaning; but blessed is he who can say, like the Psalmist : All the night make I my bed to swim ; Iwater my couch with my tears ( Ps. vi. 6). Nor is it only I in whom these groanings are found, but all those who love His appearing. For what does He Himself say ? Can the children of the bridechamber mourn, as long as the Bridegroom is with them? but the dayswill come when the Bridegroom shall be takenfrom them, and then shall they (mourn) ( Matt. ix. 15) ; as if He had said : ' Then shall the voice of the turtle be heard. ' For the

5. So it is, O dear Lord Jesus ; those days have come. whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now, waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God (Rom. viii. 19-22). And not only they, but we ourselves also groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption of the sons of God, the redemption of our body ; knowing this, that whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord (2 Cor. v. 6). Nor are those groans fruitless to which a response so kind and merciful is made from heaven, inasmuch as we hear: For the oppression of the poor, for the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Lord (Ps. xii. 5) . That voice of groaning and complaint was heard in the time of the Fathers also, but seldom, since each of them retained his groans, as it were, within his own breast. Wherefore, also, one of them said : My secret to myself, my secret to myself, woe is me ( Is. xxiv. 16, Douay) . So, also, he who said: Mygroaning is not hid from Thee (Ps. xxxviii . 9), in declaring that from God alone was it not hidden, showed that it was hidden from others. And, therefore, it could not then be said, The voice of the turtle is heard in our land, since it was then a secret, known but to few, and not yet divulged to the multitude. But when the proclamation has been openly made : Seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God ( Coloss. iii. 1 ) ; that plaintive cry of longing, the lament, as it were, of the turtledove, begins to belong to all, and the reason for it to be the same for all, since all know the Lord, as we read in the prophet Jeremiah : They shall all know Me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the Lord (Jer. xxxii. 34) .

6. But if there are many who utter that plaintive cry, why does He speak of only one ? The voice of the turtle, He says. Why does He not say, ' of the turtles ?" Perhaps the Apostle resolves this difficulty, where he says that the Spirit Himself maketh intercession for the saints with groanings that cannot be uttered ( Rom. viii. 26) . Thus, in fact, it is. He who arouses in others those aspirations which groans manifest outwardly, is brought before us as Himself groaning. And however many there be whom you hear thus groan, it is one sound that the lips of all of them utter. Why should it not be, in fact, His voice, seeing that it is He who in the mouth of each forms the words of petition for the necessities that each feels ? For the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal ( 1 Cor. xii. 7) ; to each one His Voice declares Him present, and makes Him manifest. Learn from the Gospel that the Holy Spirit has a voice. The Spirit breatheth where He will, and thou hearest His voice, but thou knowest not whence He cometh or whither He goeth (John iii . 8 , Douay). But he, who was as a master who was himself dead, teaching the dead letter of the Law to those who were similarly dead, did not know this. Nevertheless we, who have been brought from death unto life by the life-giving Spirit, we know, by His gracious illumination, and through our assured and daily 1 I.e. , Nicodemus ( John iii. 10) . 358. SERMONS ON THE SONG OF SONGS experience, that our vows and aspirations come from Him, and ascend to Him, and there find mercy before the eyes of God. For when has God ever rendered the voice of His Spirit ineffectual ? And He knows what His Spirit desires, inasmuch as He maketh intercession for the Saints according to the Will of God.

7. It is not only its plaintive cries which render the turtle acceptable, but also its chastity. For this merit it was judged a worthy offering for a Virgin Birth; and thus we read in the Scripture : Apair ofturtle-doves, or two youngpigeons ( Luke ii. 24). And although the Holy Spirit is in other passages customarily spoken of under the figure of a pigeon or dove, yet that is a bird given to passion, and therefore not suitable to be offered in sacrifice to the Lord, except it were young and immature. But for the turtledove no age is prescribed, because its chastity at any age is recognised. It is content with one mate, and if he be lost does not take another, thus condemning a plurality of marriages among men. For although that is a remedy for incontinence, and therefore only a venial fault, yet that the incontinence itself should be so great is not creditable. It is a cause for shame that reason should be unable to do in man, and that in a matter of honour and uprightness, what nature is able to do in a bird. The widowed turtle may, in fact, be seen to practise all the tasks belonging to holy widowhood diligently and without weariness. You see it everywhere solitary ; you hear it everywhere uttering its melancholy note ; nor is it ever to be found perched upon any green bough ; and from it you may learn to avoid as pestilential the ever green and vigorous shoots of pleasures. Add to this that it is most given to haunt mountain peaks and the loftiest summits of trees, and thus teaches us to despise earthly things and to love heavenly, a purpose especially appropriate to a state of chastity.

8. From all this it may be inferred that the note of the turtle is also a preaching of chastity. This utterance was not at first heard in the earth, but rather that other : Increase, and multiply, and replenish the earth ( Gen. i. 28). To no purpose would that call to chastity have sounded, when the country of the resurrection (Luke xx. 35, 36) had not as yet been revealed, in which men, far more happily, neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in Heaven. Or was it the time for that utterance to be heard when every barren woman in Israel was held to be under a reproach, when the Patriarchs themselves had many wives at once, when the Law required a man whose brother died without children to raise up seed unto his brother ? But when that commendation of eunuchs who had made themselves eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake was heard from the mouth of the heavenly turtle ( Matt. xix. 12) , and when also the counsel of that other chaste turtle as regarding virgins was everywhere followed ( 1 Cor. vii. 25), then it might begin truly to be said that the voice of the turtle has been heard in our land.

9. Since both flowers, then, have appeared, and the voice of the turtle has been heard in our land, without doubt the Truth has been made known both to hearing and to sight. For a voice is heard and a flower seen. By flowers are meant miracles, as I have explained above, which, joined to the impression made by the voice [of him who preaches the truth of the Gospel] , brings forth the fruit of faith. For although faith cometh by hearing, the confirmation of the faith comes from sight. The voice has sounded, the flowers have shone, and truth has sprung up out of the earth by the confession of believing souls, word and sign thus concurring to the testimony of the faith. Those testimonies are rendered abundantly easy of belief when the flower attests the witness of the voice, the sight that of the hearing. The things that are heard confirm those that are seen, so that the testimony of two witnesses ( I mean that of the ear and of the eye) establish the truth of that which they declare. Wherefore the Lord said : Go your way, and tellJohn ( for He was addressing the disciples of that teacher) what things ye have seen and heard (Luke vii. 22) .. The certitude of faith could not have been expressed to them more briefly or more clearly . The same conviction was speedily brought about throughout the whole world, and by the same summary ofargument. What things, He said, ye have seen and heard. O saying of little length, yet strong and effectual ! I assert with assured belief that which I have perceived by the testimony of my own ears and my own eyes. The trumpet of salvation sounds, the miracles shine clear before the eyes of men, and the world believes. It is speedily persuaded of the truth of that which is asserted, when it is authenticated by actions so marvellous. Thus we read that the Apostles wentforth, andpreached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the Word with signs following ( Mark xvi. 20). We read that He was transfigured on the mount in a cloud of wonderful brightness, and that nevertheless a Voice from Heaven bore witness to Him (Matt. xvii. 2-5). We read also of a Dove which similarly pointed Him out on the banks of Jordan, and of a Voice which bare witness to Him (Matt. iii. 16, 17). And thus it is that the mercy of God makes these two things, the voice and the outward sign, to concur everywhere to introduce the faith ; so making, by these two senses, as by two open windows, a wide opening for truth to reach the soul.

10. There follows, Thefig-tree puttethforth her green figs. Of these we do not eat ; their immaturity makes them unfit for use. They have the appearance, but not the taste, of good figs ; and in this they are perhaps made to describe hypocrites. Yet we do not altogether reject them, for we may perhaps have need of them another time. They will fall prematurely of their own accord, like grass growing upon the housetops, which withereth afore it groweth up (Ps. cxxix. 6), which, as I think, is spoken of hypocrites. Yet not without cause is mention made of them in this nuptial song. Doubtless they are of no use for food, but they may serve for another purpose ; for in a nuptial festival many other things beside viands are needed. I think that the subject ought not to be passed by altogether without mention ; but whatever be its significance I am unwilling to discuss it within the narrow limits left me at the end of this Sermon ; I defer it, therefore, to another time, which may be less occupied. I leave you to judge whether I am right in so doing ; do you only obtain for me from God, by your prayers, that I may be enabled to explain, so as to conduce to your edification, what I think ; and that all may be to the praise and glory of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

THIS sentence depends on those which precede it. The speaker had said that the time for pruning and culture of the vine had come, and that this was shown as well by the appearance of flowers, as by the hearing of the note of the turtle-dove. He shows it by the production of green figs also, because the coming of spring is evidenced not only by the appearance of flowers and by the call of the turtle-dove, but by the fruits of the fig-tree. For the season is never more mild than when the fig-tree has produced its green fruit. The fig-tree has not flowers, but fruit, at the time when other trees flower. And as flowers appear and pass away, being useful only as a mark of, and a stage in the production of, the fruits which are to follow them, so is it with those fruits which appear for a time, but fall prematurely, and are themselves unfit to be eaten, but give place to others which attain ripeness. It is by this, as I have said, that the Bridegroom marks the advance of the season, and makes it the ground for earnestly urging the Bride not to be slothful in entering upon the work in the vineyard which has to be done, in its proper season, so that it be not lost. So much for the literal sense.

2. But what of the spiritual meaning ? It is plain that here we must regard, not the fig-tree as being spoken of, but the people which it represents, since God's care is for men, not trees . Truly, the people is (as it were) a fig-tree ; frail because of the flesh, of small sense and intelligence, of no high disposition, and whose earliest fruits (to carry on still the metaphor) are earthly and unripe. For it is not the object of popular desire to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness (Matt. vi. 33) ; but rather, as says the Apostle, to think of the things of this world, wherewith husbands may please their wives, and wives their husbands. Such shall have trouble in the flesh ( 1 Cor. vii. 28, 33), but we do not deny that at the last they shall attain the fruits of faith, if they repent sincerely of, and confess, their faults, and especially if they make amends for the works of the flesh by almsgiving. The first fruits, then, which such persons produce are not properly speaking the whole products of their lives, but are like the green and immature fruits of the fig-tree. If they shall afterwards bring forth fruits worthy of repentance ( Matt. iii. 8), for that is not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural ( 1 Cor. xv. 46), it shall be said to them : Whatfruit hadye then in those things whereofye are now ashamed (Rom. vi. 21 ) ?

3. But yet I think that we are not at liberty to interpret this passage of all peoples indiscriminately, but that one people in particular is intended. For the Scripture does not speak of trees, but of one tree : Thefig-tree puttethforth her greenfigs ; and, as I think, by that one is meant the nation of the Jews. In fact, how often does the Saviour seem to employ the same metaphor in the Gospel, in the parables which He delivered ? For example : A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard ( Luke xiii . 6 ) ; and, again : Behold the figtree, and all the trees (xxi. 29) ; and to Nathanael it was said : When thou wast under the fig-tree, 1 saw thee ( John i. 48). And again, it is a figtree upon which He pronounces a curse, because He has found upon it no fruit ( Mark xi. 13, 14). Thus, that people is well compared to a fig-tree, which, although sprung from the root of the Patriarchs, which was good, was never willing to lift itself from the ground, or shoot upwards towards the sky ; never responded to the goodness of its root, either by the greatness of its branches, the beauty of its flowers, or the abundance of its fruit. O tree stunted, knotty, and twisted, nothing answering to thy root is seen in thee : for thy root was holy. What appears in thy branches which is worthy of it ? Thefigtree puttethforth her greenfigs, saith the Bridegroom. Oevil seed, it is not from thy noble root that thou hast derived these ! That which is in it is from the Holy Spirit, and all is refined and sweet which is produced by Him. Whence hast thou these figs crude and coarse ? And, in truth, what is there in that people which is not crude and coarse, whether we consider their actions, their inclinations, their understanding, or even the rites with which they worship God ? For their actions carried them [of old] into many wars, their inclinations are all devoted to the pursuit of gain, their intelligence stopped short in the thick husk of the letter of their Law, and their worship consists in shedding the blood of sheep and of cattle.

4. But someone says : Since that nation has never ceased to produce such crude fruit, then the time for pruning has been reached at an earlier period, since the two events are represented as contemporaneous. But that is not the case . We say that women are mothers, not when they are in travail, but when they have brought forth. And, similarly, we say that trees have flowered, not when the flowers have begun to appear, but rather when they have fallen. So also is it said here that the fig-tree hath put forth her green figs, not when it has 1 Protulit (Vulgate) . produced a few, but when it has produced them all-that is, when the production of them has come to an end. If you ask me at what period this took place with that [Jewish] people, I reply, when it slew Jesus Christ. For it was then that its malice was consummated, according as He Himself had foretold to them : Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers ( Matt. xxiii. 32). Wherefore at the moment when He was about to yield up His spirit upon the Cross, He said : It is finished (John xix. 30) . O what a consummation of its continual production of fruits crude and coarse did that figtree, so cursed and condemned to a perpetual sterility, at length reach ! O how much worse were the last than the former ones ! At first they were only useless, but the last came to be hurtful and poisonous. O nature not merely crude, but touched with viperous venom, to hate that Man, who not only cures the bodies of men, but saves their souls ! O intelligence, coarse, dense, and, as it were, bovine, which did not recognise God even in His own works !

5. Perhaps the Jew will complain, as of a deep injury, that I call his intelligence bovine. But let him read what is said by the prophet Isaiah, and he will find that it is even less than bovine. For he says : The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth not know, My people doth not consider (Is. i. 3). You see, O Jew, that I am milder than your own prophet. I have compared you to the brute beasts ; but he sets you below even these. Or, rather, it is not the Prophet who says this in his own name ; but he speaks in the Name of God, who declares Himself by the very works He does to be God. Though ye believe not Me, He says, believe the works ; and, If Ido not the works of My Father, believe Me not (John x. 38, 37 ) ; and not even that aroused them to understand. Not the flight of demons, not the obedience of the elements, nor life restored to the dead, was able to expel from their minds that stupidity bestial, and more than bestial, which caused them, by a blindness as marvellous as it was mierable, to rush headlong into that crime, so enormous and so horrible, of laying impious hands upon the Lord of Glory. From that time, therefore, it could justly be said of them : The figtree hath put forth her green figs, inasmuch as the institutions of the Jewish Law began to draw towards their end, and, according to the ancient prophecy, on the coming of the new, the old should be abandoned (Lev. xxvi. 10) . Even so do the green figs fall, and give place to the good figs which succeed them. As long,' says the Bridegroom, ' as the fig-tree continued to put forth its green fruit, I did not call upon thee, O My Bride, knowing that it could not, at the same time, produce good fruit. But now that those earlier ones have been put forth, I invite thee now in the due time, since, in the place of those that were useless, good and salutary fruits are about to appear. '

6. The vines, He continues, in flower yield their sweet scent, and this is the sign of fruit to come. This odour drives away serpents. It is said that when the vines are flowering every venomous reptile leaves the spot ; they cannot endure the sweet scent of the flowers in fresh bloom. Which I wish our novices to take particular notice of, and to act with corresponding trust and confidence, reflecting what manner of spirit they have received, that evil spirits cannot sustain even its first approaches. If their fervour is such at its beginning, what shall be its complete perfection ? Let the fruit be judged from the flower, and the excellence of the savour of the one be estimated from the strength of the perfume exhaled by the other. The vines in flower yield their sweet scent. And, indeed, in the beginning it was so. Upon the preaching of the new grace of Jesus Christ followed newness of life in those who had believed, who had their conversation honest among the Gentiles ( 1 Pet. ii. 12), and were a sweet odour of Christ in every place ( 2 Cor. ii . 15). That sweet odour was the good testimony which was rendered to them, and which arises from good works, as perfume from a flower. And since, in the first period of the rising faith, the souls of the faithful were like spiritual vines covered with flowers and exhaling a pleasant odour, having a good testimony from those who were without, I think that what is here said applies not unfitly to them that the vines in flower yield their sweet scent. To what end was this ? It was that by this means even those who had not yet believed, reflecting on these good works, and being attracted by them to the faith, might themselves glorify God, and so to them also the odour of life might begin to be the means of life. It is then said of them, not undeservedly, that they sought not their own glory, but the salvation of others, by the good report which their actions obtained, and that they thus gave forth a sweet odour. For it would have been in their power to seek, after the example of certain others, to make a gain of godliness ; for example, by ostentation or avarice. But that would have been not to give their good odour, but to sell it ; and this they were careful not to do, because all their actions had charity for their sole motive.

7. But if the vines are believing souls ; if their flowers are good works, and the odour they exhale the estimation they produce in the minds of others, what is the fruit they produce ? It is martyrdom ; yes, the blood of the martyr is truly the fruit of the vine. When He shall give sleep to His beloved, says the Psalmist, behold the inheritance ofthe Lordare children, the reward, thefruit ofthe womb (Ps. cxxvi. 2, 3 , Douay). I had almost said ' the fruit of the vine.' Why should I not call the Blood of the Innocent and the Just the most pure blood of the Vine-that red and most precious and approved lifeblood of the Vine of Sorek, forced out by the winepress of suffering ? For in the sight of the Lord the death of His saints is precious (Ps. cxvi. 15). So much as to that which is said : The vines in flower yield their sweet scent.

8. So, then, if we prefer to regard this passage as referring to the times of grace, this will be the meaning of it. But if we rather refer it to the Fathers (for the house of Israel is the vineyard of the Lord of Sabaoth), it will be explained thus : The Prophets and Patriarchs discerned as an odour of sweetness the future Coming and sacrifice of Christ in the Flesh, but did not give forth that odour in themselves, because they did not show forth in the flesh that which they felt in the spirit by anticipation. They did not give forth the odour of it in themselves, nor divulge their secret, awaiting its revelation in due time. Who, in fact, had then any comprehension of the wisdom which was hidden in a mystery, and not shown forth in the body ? Thus the vines, indeed, did not then yield their sweet scent. But they did so afterwards, when, in the succession of generations, they brought into the world JESUS CHRIST, born of them, according to the flesh, of a Virgin Mother. It was then, I say, that those spiritual vines yielded in truth their sweet scent, since the kindness and love of God our Saviour towards man appeared (Tit. iii. 4), and the world began to have the presence of Him whom, while He was still absent , few had anticipated. That good man, for example, who, touching Jacob, had the feeling and anticipation of Christ, and said : See, the smell of my son is as the smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed (Gen. xxvii. 27) . When he said this, he had the delight of this anticipation for himself, but he did not communicate it to any other person. But when the fulness of that time came in which God sent forth His Son, made of a woman, made under the Law, that He might redeem those which were under the Law (Gal. iv. 4), then, indeed, the sweet odour which was in Him diffused itself everywhere, so that the Church, perceiving it from the extremities of the earth, cried out : Thy Name is as ointment pouredforth (Cant. i. 2), and souls, as young maidens, flocked towards its sweet perfume. Thus that vine yielded its sweet scent ; and at that time other vines also, in which was the same odour of life, similarly gave it forth. Wherefore should they, from whom Christ came according to the Flesh, not have done so ? It was said, therefore, that the vines yielded their sweet scent, either because faithful souls shed forth everywhere around them the good opinion which they aroused, or because the oracles and revelations of the Fathers were made openly known to the world, and their sweet odour went forth throughout all the earth, as the Apostle declares : God was manifest in the Flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of Angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory ( 1 Tim. iii. 16).

9. But it would be wonderful if neither the figtree nor those vines had in them anything which would serve to our edification. I believe, then, that this passage has a moral sense also ; for, by the grace of God which is in us, we have also fig-trees and vines. The figtrees are those whose characters are sweet and peaceable, and the vines those of a more ardent and fervent spirit. Everyone among us who acts in union and peace with others, who lives among his brethren, not only without giving ground of complaint to any, but approving himself kind and helpful to all, and fulfilling towards them every office of charity, why may I not speak of him very fitly as a figtree ? Yet if he have put forth crude and coarse fruits, it behoves him to cast them off ; as, for example, the fear of judgment, which perfect love casteth out ; and the bitterness of remorse for past sins, which is sure to yield to sincere confession, to abundant shedding of tears, and to the infusion of grace ; and also other similar things, which are as the green figs which go before the good and sweet fruit . Such truths as these you are able by yourselves to reflect upon.

10. But that I may add here one more thought which occurs to me at the moment, may there not be counted among green figs such gifts as knowledge, prophecy, gifts of tongues, and the like ? For these things must, like green figs, pass away, and give place to better, as the Apostle declares, asserting that prophecies shall fail, tongues cease, and knowledge vanish away ( 1 Cor. xiii. 8). The discernment of spiritual things shall exclude even faith in them, and the place of hope must of necessity be taken by sight. For that which a man sees why doth he yet hope for ? Charity alone never faileth, but that charity only wherewith God is loved with all the heart, with all the soul, with all the strength, and with all the mind ( Luke x. 27). Therefore I do not reckon this at all in the number of crude figs ; I do not think that it is to be compared even to the fig tree, but to the vines. Now, those who are as vines show themselves severe rather than sweet ; they act in a spirit full of ardour, are zealous for discipline, prompt and severe in rebuking vice, and applying to themselves very fitly that saying of the Psalmist : Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate Thee ? and am not Igrieved with those that rise up against Thee ? ( Ps. cxxxix. 21). Also, the zeal of Thine House hath eaten me up ( Ps. lxix. 9). The former seem to me to excel in love of their neighbour ; the latter, in love of God. But let us make a pause under this vine and under this fig-tree, where the love of God and of our neighbour casts a delightful shade. Of each of these I am possessed when I love Thee, O dear Lord Jesus, who art my neighbour, because Thou art Man, and hast shown Thy love and mercy towards me, and who art, nevertheless, God over all, blessed for evermore. AMEN.

THE Bridegroom manifests His great affection by repeating the words of affection. For repetition is a sign expressive of affection ; and that He again summons His Beloved to labour among the vines, shows how full of solicitude He is for the salvation of souls. That the vines denote souls, you have already heard ; nor need I repeat what has been said upon that subject. Notice what follows. If I remember rightly, He has never yet clearly named the Bride in all this work except when He leads her to the vineyards, when He brings her near to the wine of charity. When she shall have come thither, when she shall have been perfected, He will make with her a spiritual marriage ; and they two shall be, not one flesh, but one spirit, according to the saying of the Apostle : He that isjoined unto the Lord is one spirit ( 1 Cor. vi. 17) .

2. Then follow the words : O My dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let Me see thy countenance, let Me hear thy voice. He loves, and therefore goes on to speak words of love. He winningly calls her anew His dove; He says that He is hers, and claims her as belonging wholly to Him ; it is no longer she who earnestly entreats that He will show Himself unto her, and speak to her ; it is now He who in turn begs for these graces. He acts as a bridegroom, but as one who is modest and diffident, who shrinks from exposing himself to public gaze, who determines to enjoy his happiness in retirement, or, as it were, in the clefts of the rock, or in the hollows of the wall. Imagine, then, that the Bridegroom speaks thus to His Bride: ' Do not fear, My beloved, that the labour upon the vines to which I call you will interfere with or interrupt the enjoyment of our love. There will even be in it some advantage. ' This is a kind of trifling founded upon the literal sense of the words. But why do I call it trifling, seeing that there is nothing serious in the literal explanation ? The outward appearance of this passage is not worthy of our attention unless the Spirit shall help our infirmity to understand the inward meaning of it. Let us not, then, remain outside of this spiritual sense, lest it should seem (which God forbid !) that we desire to refer to what is impure and dis 1 Some editions repeat here ' make haste, ' from verse 10 ; but not the earliest ones, nor the MSS. honourable. Take heed that you bring chaste ears to this discourse of love ; and when you think of these two who are its subject, remember always that not a man and a woman are to be thought of, but the Word of God and the devout soul. And if I shall speak of Christ and the Church, the sense is the same, except that under the name of the Church is specified not one soul only, but the unity, or rather the unanimity, of many souls. And do not think that by the clefts of the rock or the hollows of the wall are meant the hidingplaces of those who work iniquity ; reject from your minds every thought or suspicion of such works of darkness.

3. Another writer has thus expounded this passage, interpreting the clefts of the rock of the wounds of Christ. And rightly so, for that rock was Christ ( 1 Cor. x. 4). Precious are those clefts [to us], for they establish the faith of the Resurrection and the Divinity of Christ. My Lord and My God, said an Apostle (John xx. 28). Whence came that assured conviction (oraculum), if not from the clefts of the Rock? In these the sparrow hath found an house, and the turtle a nestfor herself, where she may lay her young ( Ps. lxxxiv. 3) ; in these the dove finds safety, and regards without fear the hawk that flies around. And therefore He says, My dove that art in the clefts ofthe rock. While the dove replies : He hath exalted me upon a rock (Ps. xxvii . 5) , and again, He hath set my feet upon a rock ( Ps . xl. 2). The man who is wise builds his house upon a rock, because there he need fear neither the force of the winds, nor the beating of the waves ( Matt. vii. 24). What good does he not find upon that rock ? Raised upon it, I stand firmly, and am safe. I am safe from the enemy ; I am strong against accident ; and all because I am lifted above the earth ; for everything that is earthly is uncertain and perishable. Our conversation is in heaven, whence we need not fear ever to fall, nor ever to be cast down. Our rock, then, is in heaven ; in it is strength, and on it security. Is it not said that the rock is a refuge for the conies (Ps. civ., 18) ? And where, in truth, is there a firm and safe refuge for us who are weak, except in the Wounds of our Saviour ? There I dwell with safety so much the greater, as He is so powerful to save. The world rages around me, the body weighs upon me, the devil lays snares for me ; but I do not fall, for I am founded upon a firm Rock. Perhaps I have committed some great sin, my conscience is troubled, but I do not despair, because I remember the Wounds of my Lord ; for He was wounded for our iniquities (Is. liii. 5). What sin is there so deadly that it may not be remitted through the Death of Christ ? If, then, I keep in remembrance a remedy so powerful and efficacious, I cannot be terrified by any disease, however virulent it be.

4. Thus it plainly appears how greatly that man erred who said, My iniquity is greater than Ican bear (Gen. iv. 13). Except that he was not among the members of Christ, nor did the merits of Christ pertain to him, so that he could have a dependence upon them, or say, as a member asserting an interest in that which belongs to His Head, that they were His. But as for me, that which is wanting in myself I claim with undoubting confidence in the Heart of the Lord, from which all mercy flows ; nor is it without clefts through which that mercy flows forth. For the soldiers] pierced His Hands, and His Feet, and His Side they pierced with a lance ; and by these openings it is permitted to me to suck honey from the rock, and oil from the hardest crag ; that is to say, to taste and see how sweet the Lord is . He was meditating thoughts of peace, and I knew it not ; for who hath known the mind of the Lord ; or who hath been His counsellor ? But the nails wherewith He was pierced have become for me, as it were, master keys (clavis, clavus), to open for me the treasury of the Lord's Will. How can I do otherwise than see with clear vision through a cleft so broad ? The nails cry aloud, and the wounds cry aloud, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself. The sword passed through His soul, and came near to His Heart, that He might so learn to have a fellow feeling with our infirmities. Through the clefts of His Body the secret of His Heart is laid open, and that great mystery of goodness, the lovingkindness and mercy of our God, in which the Dayspring from on high hath visited us, is manifested to our thankful gaze. How can the Lord's wounds do other than exhibit His lovingkindness ? and how has it ever shone forth more wondrously, O Lord, sweet and gentle, and of great mercy, than in the cruel wounds which Thou didst endure for our sake ? There is no greater proof of compassion and mercy than this, that one should lay down his life for those who were destined and condemned to death.

5. The pitying mercy of the Lord is, then, all my merit. I am not altogether destitute of merits, as long as He deigns to have compassion upon me ; and they will be increased just in proportion to the greatness of His mercy. What if I feel myself guilty of many offences ? Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound (Rom. v. 20). And if the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting (Ps. ciii. 17) , I also will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever (Ps. lxxxix. 1) . Shall it be my own righteousness that I celebrate ? Nay, O Lord ; I will make mention of Thy righteousness, even of Thine only (Ps. lxxi. 16). For that is mine also, since Thou Thyself hast become my Righteousness. Have I any reason to fear lest the one righteousness should not suffice for both ? It is not like that cloak of which the Prophet speaks, which was so narrow that it could not cover two ( Is. xxviii. 20). Thy righteousness is an everlasting righteousness (Ps. cxix. 142). What is longer than eternity ? And Thy Righteousness is eternal ; and so ample as amply to cover me equally with Thyself. In me, indeed, it shall cover a multitude of 1 This is the uniform reading of the old MSS. and the earlier editions. But Horst reads wrongly, reum capitis membrum ; and Picard, veri capitis membrum. Our reading is genuine and easy, if in the former half of the sentence you understand membrum and supply suam dicit, so that the sense will be, Sicut membrum rem capitis suam dicit. sins ; but in Thee, O Lord, what does it cover but the treasures of Thy lovingkindness, the riches of Thy goodness to us ? These are the treasures which are laid up for me in the clefts of the rock. Of what great variety of sweetness are these good things, hidden, indeed, now, but only from those who perish ! For why is that which is holy given unto dogs, or pearls cast before swine ? God has revealed them to us by His Spirit, and has made us enter into His holy things by these open clefts . How great an abundance of sweetness is found in them, what fulness of grace, and what perfection of virtues !

6. I will enter into those storehouses so richly filled, and, according to the counsel of the Prophet, will leave the cities, and dwell in the rock ( Jer. xlviii. 28). I will be as it were a dove making her nest in the deepest recess of the cleft, so that, being set with Moses in the cleft of the rock, I may attain to see the Lord at least from behind as He passes by ( Exod. xxxiii. 23). For who shall stand before Him and look upon His Face, that is, behold His unchangeable Glory, except he to whom it shall be vouchsafed, to be brought not only into His holy place, but into the Holy of Holies ? Nor is that sight of the Lord a small favour, nor to be lightly thought of. Let Herod despise it if he will ; as for me, I am far from thinking it a small thing, and the farther, the more despisable it seems to Herod. Even such a sight of the Lord has its own delights. Who knows whether God will not turn, and forgive, and leave behind Him a blessing ? A time shall come when He shall show to us the light of His Countenance, and we shall be saved. But in the meantime, may He prevent us (præveniat = go before) with the sweetness of those blessings which He is wont to leave behind Him. Let Him now display to us His condescension, as it were, by a view of Him from behind, and reserve for another time the sight of His Countenance in its Glory. He is exalted high above all in His Kingdom, but upon His Cross He is all sweetness. Let Him begin with me by the latter vision, and in the other bestow upon me the fulness of joy. Thou shalt make mefull ofjoy, it is said, with Thy Countenance (Acts ii. 28). Each vision is saving, and each is sweet ; but the one is in supreme exaltation, the other in humility ; the one in Glory, the other in mortal pallor.

7. For, as says the Psalmist of the dove : The hinder parts of her back are covered with the paleness ofgold (Ps. lxviii. 14, Douay). He cannot be other than pale in death. But gold, though it be pale, is of more value than yellow and shining brass ; so also the foolishness of God is wiser than men ( 1 Cor. i. 25). This gold is the WORD, the wisdom of God. This gold has rendered its colour pale, hiding the Form of God, and putting on the form of a servant. From the Church also He has taken her golden brightness, for she says : Look not on me because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me (i . 6). Her back, then, also has the paleness of gold ; she does not blush at the blackness of the Cross ; she does not shudder at the scorching brands of the Saviour's Passion, nor fly from the livid marks of His wounds. She even takes delight in them, and desires that her last end may be like these. It is on that account that the words are spoken which she hears from the Bridegroom : My dove that art in the clefts of the rock ; because she dedicates herself with singlehearted devotion to the Wounds of Christ, and dwells in them with continual meditation. Thence comes the endurance which does not shrink from martyrdom ; thence the complete confidence which she has in the Most High. The martyr can fear nothing who lifts his eyes to that bloodless and livid Face, by whose very paleness he is healed, and who nerves himself to show forth a glorious likeness of his Master's Death, even in the paleness of gold. Why should he fear to whom it is said by the Lord Himself: Let Me see thy countenance ? (ii . 14). Why does He say this ? I think it is not so much that He desires to see her, as that He desires to be seen by her. For what is there that He does not see ? He has no need that anyone should show themselves to Him who sees all things, even though they be hidden. What He desires, then, is to be seen ; the Leader full of kindness and bounty desires that the countenance and the eyes of His devoted soldier should be fixed upon His wounds, to draw from them strength and encouragement, and to render him stronger to endure his sufferings, through the power of His Example.

8. In truth, while the martyr is gazing at the Wounds of his Saviour, he will not feel his own. He stands intrepid and triumphant, though his whole body be a mass of wounds ; and when the steel gashes his sides, he beholds the sacred blood of martyrdom spout forth from his body, not only bravely, but with gladness. Where, then, is the soul of the martyr ? It is in a place of safety ; in the Rock, in the Bosom of Jesus, which it enters through the open portal of His Wounds. If it were left to its own sensations only, assuredly the stabbing sword would be seen and felt ; the pain would be found unendurable ; it would succumb, and deny its Lord. But as it is abiding in the Rock, what wonder if it should endure as a rock endures ? Nor if it is an exile from the body, is it wonderful that the pains of the body it does not feel. This is not the consequence of insensibility, but of the force of love. The senses are not lost, though they are controlled. The pain is felt, but the soul rises above it and scorns it. It is then from that Rock comes the fortitude of the martyr, and the power that is in him to drink of the cup of the Lord ( Matt. xx. 22, 23). And that cup, so exciting in its passionate glow, how goodly is it ! (Ps. xxiii. 5). Goodly, indeed ; and that not less to the Leader who is keenly watching the struggle, than to the brave soldier who fights and conquers, for our strength is the joy of the Lord (Neh. viii. 10) . How can it be otherwise than that the voice of a martyr's testimony, bravely sustained unto the end, should be to Him a cause of joy, since, in fact, He asks it so earnestly, in the words before us : Let Me hear thy voice. Nor will He delay, in His turn, to repay it according to His promise : Whoso ever, therefore, shall confess Me before men, him will Iconfess also before My Father which is in Heaven ( Matt. x. 32 ). But let me cut short this sermon, for it cannot be finished at this time ; and it would be excessively long were I to complete all that remains to be said upon this verse which I have begun to expound. Let me reserve it, therefore, to the beginning of the next sermon ; and may all that I say, and the manner in which it is said, be a subject of satisfaction to Him, who is the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

I T is not only in the clefts of the rock that the dove finds a safe refuge ; it is also in the secret places of the stairs. If, then, we take ' the stairs ' as signifying, not a mere heaped-up pile of stones, but the assemblage of the Saints, may we not perhaps take the secret places or hollows in it to refer to the places left, as it were, empty in it by those Angels who, because of their pride, fell from Heaven, since those places are to be filled by men, even as ruins are built up with new and living stones ? Wherefore the Apostle Peter says : To whom coming, as unto a living stone, ye also as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house (1 Pet. ii. 4, 5). Nor do I think that it will be far from the fact if we understand by it the guardianship of Angels, as in some sort acting as a wall (maceria) around the Lord's vineyard, which is the Church of the predestinate, since St. Paul says : Are they not all ministering spirits, sentforth to ministerfor them who shall be heirs ofsalvation ? (Heb. i. 14). And the Psalmist: TheAngel of the Lord campeth about them that fear Him, and delivereth them (Ps. xxxiv. 7). And if that be adopted, the sense will be that two things console the Church in the time and place of her pilgrimageone referring to the past, the memory of the Passion of Christ ; the other to the future, the thought and confident assurance of being received into the blessedness of the Saints. She looks forward and backward, and beholds each of these two with an earnest longing which never fails ; each of them seems to her immeasurably sweet, and each provides her with refuge and consolation against her griefs and afflictions which she endures from evil men. The consolation is complete, since the Church knows not only what she has to look for, but also from whom she has to look for it. Her expectation is full of joy ; nor is it doubtful, for it is founded on the Death of Christ. Why should she tremble at the greatness of the recompense, when she considers the value (dignitatem) of the price paid for it ? What happiness she experiences in reflecting upon those clefts through which flowed that most sacred Blood, which was the price of her salvation ! With what joy she traverses the hollows, the retreats, the mansions, which are so many, and so diverse, in the House of the Father, and in which He will place His children according to the diversity of their merits ! And because she is not, for the present, able to enter into the heavenly home in reality, she enters it in the only manner which is possible to her, in spirit and by continual remembrance of it. But the time will come when she shall fill up those waste places ; shall dwell in those hollows in body as well as in spirit ; when she shall make light with the presence of the vast numbers of her children those heavenly habitations which their former denizens have left void ; and then in the heavenly wall there shall appear no more empty hollows, but all shall rejoice in completeness and perfection.

2. Or, if you prefer the interpretation, let us say that by studious and pious souls these hollows are not found, but made. In what manner, do you ask ? By the force of their thoughts and their desires. For that spiritual wall yields to the pious desire of the soul, just as soft stone yields to the edge of the mason's chisel ; it yields to pure contemplation, to frequent prayer. For the prayer of the humble pierceth the clouds ( Ecclus. xxxv. 17). Not, indeed, that it cleaves the spacious heights of this material atmosphere, as a bird cleaves them in its flight and by the beating of its wings ; or that it pierces, as by the thrust of a sword, to the height of the dense firmament. But there are heavens which are holy, living, reasonable, which declare the glory of God ; and these bend themselves, with a willing and gracious acquiescence, to our prayers : these allow themselves to be reached by our devout affections ; these receive us into their bosom as often as we knock at the door of them with a pure and worthy intention. For to him that knocketh it shall be opened. It will, then, be allowed to each of us, even during this period of our mortality, to hollow out for himself caves of refuge, in whatsoever part he will, of this heavenly wall ; even now to visit the Patriarchs and to salute the Prophets ; even now to mingle with the glorious company of the Apostles and the noble army of Martyrs. It will be permitted to each, according as the fervour of his devotion shall bear up his soul as upon wings, to traverse in gladness and joy the dwelling place and the mansions of the blessed Virtues, from the least Angels to the loftiest Cherubin and Seraphin. And if he shall pause and knock ABIDING OF perseveringly at the door of those to whom he is most strongly drawn, according to the impulse of the Spirit, who quickeneth whom He will, it shall be speedily opened to him ; and making, as it were, a cave of refuge in the mountains, or rather in those holy souls, who willingly incline themselves to him in benignant kindness, he shall repose among them for a little while. Of every soul that acts thus, both the countenance and the voice are always acceptable to God: the countenance because of its purity ; the voice because of the praises it renders to Him (Ps. 1. 23). And, in truth, the offering of thanks is fair in His sight ; wherefore, also, to such an one it is said : Let Me see thy countenance ; let Me hear thy voice. The voice is adoration in the mind that is occupied in contemplation ; the voice is giving of thanks. God takes great delight in such hollows as these, from which sounds forth the voice of thanksgiving to Him, the voice of adoration and praise. a

3. Happy is the soul whose study it has been frequently to hollow out for itself caves of refuge on this wall, and still more happy if its refuge be in the rock. For it is open to us to hew and hollow out our refuge even in the Rock ; but for this is required a sharper edge, as it were, of purity, stronger force of will and pious intention, and, furthermore, more prevailing merits of sanctity.1 And who can be thought qualified in these respects ? Surely he who said : In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God : the same was in the beginning with God (John i. 1, 2). Does it not seem to you that this man is one who has plunged, and, as it were, whelmed himself in the abysses of the Word as in the depths of a sea, and who, from the recesses of the Heart of Jesus , has brought forth the very marrow of the deepest and most sacred Wisdom ? What shall I say of him who was wont to speak wisdom among them who were perfect, even the hidden wisdom, which none ofthe princes of this world knew ( 1 Cor. ii. 6-8) ? Did not that pious searcher, borne onward by a holy and religious, but penetrating, curiosity, pass through the first and the second heaven, and enter even into the third heaven in search of that wisdom ? And he has not been silent about it to us, but has set it forth faithfully in such faithful words as he could command. For he heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter ( 2 Cor. xii . 4), that is to say, not to man ; and of these he would discourse to God only. Imagine, then, that God is consoling Paul, whose charity causes him to regret that he cannot make known this wisdom to his fellow-men, and saying to him : ' Why are you troubled because men are not capable of hearing and understanding the thoughts you have conceived ? Let Me hear thy voice '-that is to say, ' If it is not permitted to you to reveal to mortal ears the thoughts you have in your mind, yet be consoled, inasmuch as your voice is acceptable and welcome to the Divine ears .' Do you see how that holy soul at one time is 1 In most of the MSS. the word sanctitatis is wanting ; but all the printed editions have it, even the earliest. sober because of its charity towards us, and at another beside itself to God, and in the power of its purity (2 Cor. v. 13) ? See also with regard to holy David whether he was not himself that man of whom, as if of another, he speaks with God : The thought of man shall give praise to Thee, and the rest of the thought makefestival in Thine honour ( Ps. lxxvi. 11). All, then, that the Prophet was able to make publicly known, by his word or his example, of his prophetic consciousness, that he used to render public praise to God, and thanksgivings among the people of the Lord ; while that which remained he reserved for himself and for God, and together they made festival with joy and gladness. This, then, is what he wished to make known to us by the verse quoted : that is to say, whatever of the mystery of wisdom he was able to arrive at by eager and attentive meditation, he partly shared with the people, according to his ability, by the careful preaching which he devoted to their salvation ; and the remainder, which the people were not capable of comprehending, he employed in praises and thanksgivings to God. You see that nothing is lost of holy contemplation, since that which cannot be expended to the edification of the peoples is put to good use for the praise of God, and is acceptable and agreeable to Him.

4. That being the case, it is clear that there are two kinds of contemplation : one, upon the state, the happiness, and the glory of the heavenly City, with which either in action or in repose a multitude of its citizens are occupied ; the other, upon the majesty, the eternity, and the Divinity, of the King Himself. The one may be said to have relation to the wall, the other to the rock. But the more difficult it is to hollow out this wall, the sweeter and more satisfying is the result attained when it is done. Do not fear that with which the Scripture threatens those who are searchers into Majesty (Prov. xxv. 27) . Only bring to that search an eye which is pure and simple, then you shall not be overwhelmed with glory, but shall be admitted [to behold it -that is, unless you seek not the glory of God, but your own. Whosoever does this is indeed overwhelmed, but by [the looking for] his own glory, not that of God ; for in pursuit of that your heart is, as it were, weighed down with desire of vainglory, and is unable to lift itself up to the glory of God. But if that is driven out of our soul we may then securely search the Rock in which are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col. ii. 3) . If you are still doubtful, hear what the Rock Himself says : They that work in Me shall not do amiss (Ecclus. xxiv. 22) . Oh, that I had wings like a dove ! for then would Ifly away, and be at rest ( Ps. lv. 6). There the gentle and simple soul finds rest, where the fraudful, the arrogant, the covetous of vainglory, is overwhelmed. The Church is as a dove, and therefore finds rest. The Church is as a dove, because it is innocent and mournful. As a dove, I say, because it receives with meekness the ingrafted word. And it rests in the Word, that is, in the rock ; for the Rock is the Word. The Church, then, abides in the clefts of the rock, through which she looks forth and beholds the glory of her Spouse; and yet she is not overwhelmed by that glory, because she does not arrogate it to herself. She is not overwhelmed by it, because it is not the Divine Majesty, but the Divine Will, into which it is her object to search. Sometimes, indeed, she ventures to contemplate that which belongs to His Majesty, yet not to scrutinize, but to adore. And if it is ever her lot to be transported into it by a sudden ecstasy, that is the Finger of God, who deigns thus to lift up man to Himself, not the temerity of man, presuming insolently to intrude into the deep things of God. For when the Apostle relates that he was caught up into Paradise, that he might excuse his venturing to glory ( 2 Cor. xii. 1, 2), what other mortal may presume by his own unaided efforts to introduce himself into the terrible sanctuary of this supreme Majesty, and to burst with eager gaze into the sight of its awful mysteries ? I conclude that those who are here spoken of as searchers into the Divine Majesty are those who burst upon it of their own accord, not those to whom it is revealed in ecstasy. It is the former, therefore, that are overwhelmed by its glory.

5. A search into the Divine Majesty is, then, full of danger to be feared ; but a search into the Divine Will [that we may obey it] is as safe as it is dutiful and pious. Why, indeed, should I not employ myself with all diligence in ascertaining what is the Will of Him to whom I owe obedience in all things ? Glory and sweetness also come from the contemplation of His sweetness, from the beholding of the riches of His goodness and tender mercies. Then, indeed, we have beheld this glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father ( John i. 14). That part of His glory which is here displayed is full of goodness, and truly paternal. That glory does not overwhelm me, though I bend all my powers to contemplate it ; on the contrary, it impresses itself upon me. For when we with open face behold the glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord ( 2 Cor. iii. 18). We are transformed in Him, when we are conformed to Him. God forbid that the conformity of man to the Divine likeness should be presumed to consist in the glory of His majesty, and not rather in a modest and complete obedience to His Will. This is my glory, if ever I shall be so happy as to hear it said of me : ' I have found a man after My own heart. ' The Heart of the Bridegroom is the Heart of His Father, and of what character is that ? Be ye therefore merciful, He says Himself, as your Father also is merciful ( Luke vi. 36). It is this form and expression of countenance that He desires to see, when He says to the Church: Let Me see thy countenance : a form and expression of kindness and of piety. Such a countenance [the Church] lifts with all confidence towards the Rock, which it resembles. Theylooked unto Him, says the Psalmist, and were lightened, and their faces were not ashamed (Ps . xxxiv. 5). How, indeed, shall a humble soul be confounded by One who is humble, a holy soul by the God of holiness, a modest soul by Him who is modesty itself ? The pure countenance of the Bride will no more be abhorrent to the purity of the Rock, than virtue is abhorrent to virtue, or light to light.

6. But as the Church is not able as a whole to draw near at present to the piercing of the Rock, because it is not in the power of all who are in the Church to penetrate the sacred mysteries of the Will of God, or to apprehend by their own selves the deep things of His counsels, therefore the Bridegroom declares that she dwells not only in the clefts of the rock, but in the secretplaces of the wall. With respect, then, to those of her members who are perfect, who by the purity of their conscience and the quickness of their intelligence are emboldened and enabled to search and to penetrate the secrets of wisdom, the Church dwells in the clefts of the Rock. With respect to others, she dwells in the secret places of the wall ; that is to say, those who either are not qualified to hollow out for themselves caves of refuge in the Rock, or do not presume to do so, should be content to contemplate in spirit the glory of the saints, and, as it were, to abide in the secret places of the wall. If there is anyone to whom not even this is possible, let the Church set before him Jesus Christ, and Him crucified, so that even he may abide, without any toil of his own, in the clefts of the Rock at the hollowing out of which he has not laboured. The Jews have laboured [to pierce them] , and he, that he may be a believer, shall enter into the labours of the unbelievers. Nor let him fear to be repulsed, for he is called to enter in. Enter into the rock, says the Prophet, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the Lord, and for the glory of His majesty ( Is. ii. 10). To the soul that is feeble and undecided, such as is described in that verse in the Gospel in which one confesses of himself that he cannot dig, and to beg he is ashamed ( Luke xvi. 3), a hollow is shown where he may hide in the earth until he gather strength and make spiritual progress, so that then even he may hollow out for himself clefts in the Rock, and with increased vigour and purity of mind may enter into the inner meanings of the Word.

7. And if we understand as referring to this hiding-place hollowed in the earth that passage in which it is said, TheyhavedugMyHands and Feet (Ps . xxii. 17, Douay), it cannot be doubtful that the wounded soul which shall abide in it shall speedily recover health. For what is so efficacious to the healing of the wounds of conscience, as to the purifying of the intention of the soul, as assiduous meditation upon the Wounds of Christ ? But until it is perfectly purified and healed I do not see how the words can be applied to it which are here spoken, Let Me see thy countenance, let Me hear thy voice. For how can the soul which is bidden to hide itself venture to show its countenance or lift up its voice ? Hide thyself, it is said, in the dust. Wherefore ? Because the countenance is not fair, nor worthy to be seen. Nor shall it be worthy to be seen as long as it is not capable of seeing. But when, by the sojourn made in the dust, it has made such progress in the healing of the inward eye that it is able to contemplate the glory of God with open face, then at length the soul shall ABIDING OF THE FAITHFUL soul recount with confidence what it has seen, and shall be, both in voice and countenance, pleasing to the Lord. The countenance which is able to view fixedly the glory of God is necessarily able to please. For that it would not be able to do if it were not itself clear and pure, and transformed into the image of the glory which it contemplates . Otherwise it would recoil from that glory on account of mere unlikeness to it, as if stricken by a brilliance new and unbearable. Therefore, when a soul shall be pure and therefore able to behold unshrinkingly the pure truth, then it is that the Bridegroom will desire to behold its countenance and to hear its voice.

8. For how greatly He is pleased by the preaching of the truth when it is done with a pure intention is shown by the words which are added : For sweet is thy voice. And that the voice would not be pleasing to Him if the countenance were displeasing may be inferred from the remainder of the sentence : And thy countenance is comely. What is the beauty of the inward countenance except purity ? The soul may please Him in very many respects without the voice of preaching ; but without a pure intention it can please Him in none. To the impure Truth does not show itself, nor does Wisdom entrust itself to them. How, then, should they be able to speak of that which they have not seen ? We speak that we do know, saith the Scripture, and testify that we have seen (John iii . 11 ). But you go and dare to give testimony about that which you have not seen, and to speak of that which you know not. Do you ask who it is that I say has not a pure intention ? He who seeks for the praises of men ; he who makes a traffic of the Gospel ; he who preaches the Gospel as a means of livelihood ; to whom gain is godliness ; and who does not seek for spiritual fruit provided he obtains a gift. Such as these are wanting in pure intention ; and though their mixture of motive hinders their beholding the truth, it does not hinder their discoursing of it as if they did behold it. Why do you act so hastily ? Why do you not wait for light ? Why do you presume to undertake the work of light before the light is with you ? It is in vain that you rise before the light dawns upon you. The light, that is a pure intention, that is charity, which seeketh not her own ( 1 Cor. xiii. 5). Let this come first , that you speak not unadvisedly with your tongue, as one who setteth his foot at a venture. The truth is not discerned by the eye that is proud, but is clear to him that is upright and sincere. There is no truth which hides itself from the pure in heart, or that may not be uttered by him who is so. But unto the wicked God saith, Whathast thou to do to declare My statutes, or that thou shouldest take My covenant in thy mouth (Ps. 1. 16) ? Many there are who, neglecting a pure intention, have tried to speak before they have seen the truth ; and have either fallen into grave error, knowing neither what they say nor ofwhat they affirm, or have incurred derision and contempt, inasmuch as they have taken upon them to teach others, while they have not themselves been taught. Let us pray Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, to preserve us always from this twofold evil. He is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN. 378 SERMONS

IT is clear that it was not without real need that attention was called to the vineyards, since foxes are found among the vines, who are despoiling them. That is the literal sense of the words. But what of the spiritual ? In the first place, we reject the common and familiar explanation altogether as absurd, insipid, and altogether unworthy to be received as the sense of a Scripture so sacred and authentic. Unless anyone is so dull of mind and devoid of reason as to imagine it a great thing to be taught here, after the fashion of the children of this world, to have a care for earthly possessions ; to guard and defend the vines against the wild animals which attack them, for fear of possibly losing the fruit of the vine, in which is excess and riot, and of so losing at once their labour and their outlay. Assuredly great would be the loss if we should read and study the holy Book with so much care and deep veneration, only to be taught in it to protect our vines from foxes, lest if we should be negligent in our care of them, our cultivation should end in our purses being left empty. You are not so unskilled, nor so wanting in spiritual graces, as to understand the Scripture in so carnal a manner. Let us, then, seek the sense of them in the spirit. We shall, indeed, find, but in a sense more reasonable and more worthy of Scripture, the vines which have tender grapes, and the foxes which spoil them, and upon whom we may expend our labour in driving them away or capturing them, at once more honourably and to better purpose. Can you possibly doubt that it is needful to employ much more watchfulness to keep souls in safety than a crop of grapes, and that it needs much more vigilant care to avoid the snares of spiritual wickedness on account of the one than to capture marauding foxes on account of the other ?

2. But now I must point out what these vines denote in a spiritual sense, and what these foxes. It will be your care, my dear sons, to apply, each to himself and to his own vineyard, whatever I may say in the course of this inquiry, that he may learn in what respect, and of what dangers, he has most necessity to take heed. To a wise man, then, this vineyard signifies his life, his soul, his conscience. For he who is wise ought to leave nothing in himself uncared for or desert. With the foolish man it is quite otherwise. You will find that with him all things are lying neglected, dirty, and in disorder. Indeed, the foolish can hardly be said to have a vineyard at all, for how can there be a vineyard where nothing appears to be planted, nothing to be cultivated anywhere ? The whole life of the foolish bristles, as it were, with thorns and briars growing wild ; and is that a vineyard ? Even though it was once one, it is so no longer, for it has gone back to the condition of desert. Where is the vine of virtue ? Where are the grapes of good works ? Where the wine of spiritual joy ? Iwent, says the wise man, by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding ; and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down ( Prov. xxiv. 30, 31). You see how the wise man ridicules the foolish, because he has left to perish by neglect the good endowments of nature and the gifts of grace, which he had perhaps received by the laver of Regeneration ; which was, as it were, his original vineyard, planted by God and not by man ; so that it is no longer a vineyard. And assuredly there can be no vine where there is no life. For I should regard the life of one who is void of understanding as rather death than life. How can there be life where there is barrenness ? The tree that is dry and barren, is it not regarded as dead ? Faggots and brushwood also are but dead wood. He destroyed their vines with hail, says the Psalmist ( Ps. lxxviii. 47), showing that vines condemned to perpetual sterility are, in fact, deprived of life. So the man void of understanding, inasmuch as his life is useless, is dead while he liveth.

3. It is, then, the wise man alone of whom it can properly be said that he has a vineyard, or, rather, that he himself is one, that has life. He is a tree in the House of God which bears fruit, and is therefore living. For that very wisdom itself, by which a man becomes, and is called, wise, is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her ( Prov. iii . 18). How can he that takes hold upon her fail to have life ? He truly lives, but by faith. For it is the just who is wise, and the just lives by faith ( Heb. x. 38). And if the soul of the just be, as it is, the seat of wisdom, then he is truly wise who is just. He, then, whether you call him the wise or the just, because he never ceases to live, will never cease to have (or, rather, to be) a vineyard. For the vineyard and the life are in him the same thing. And the vineyard of the just is good, or, rather, the just is a good vineyard, since in him virtue is as the vine, his [good] actions the branches and shoots, the testimony of his conscience the wine produced, and his tongue, as it were, the wine press. Our rejoicing is this, says the Apostle, the testimony ofour conscience (2 Cor. i. 12) . Do you perceive how in the wise nothing is without its use ? His discourse, his reflections, his manner of life, and all the rest of his conduct, what are they but entirely God's husbandry, God's building, and in one word, the vine of the Lord of Hosts ? And since, as we are assured, even its leaves shall not fall withered to the ground (Ps. i. 3), what can perish which belongs to it ?

4. But yet to such a vine as this there will never be wanting persecutions from without, nor snares from within. For whengoods increase, they are increased that eat them (Eccles. v. 11). The wise man will be no less careful to keep his vine in safety than to cultivate it ; nor will he suffer it to be devoured by foxes. Among the worst of these is the secret detractor, but the fawning flatterer is not less evil. Of both he who is wise will beware. He will direct his efforts, as far as in him lies, to ' take ' those who practise such arts, but to take them by kindnesses and courtesies, by salutary admonitions, and prayers to God on their behalf. He will not cease to heap such coals of fire upon the head of the abusive person ( Rom. xii. 20) and also of the flatterer ; until he shall succeed, if possible, in drawing the envy from the heart of the one, and the dissimulation from that of the other, and thus fulfil the command of the Bridegroom : Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines. Does it not appear to you that a person is, as it were, ' taken,' whose countenance is covered with confusion, who blushes for his own judgment, and is himself the witness of the shame and regret that he feels , whether for having regarded with hatred a man most worthy of love, or for having loved with only a pretended and wordy affection him by whom, as he has at length (though late) experienced, he was loved in deed and in truth ? He is evidently taken, and taken for the Lord, according to His own express command : Take [ for] us. Would that I might be able thus to ' take ' all those who oppose me without a cause, that I might gain them for Christ, or restore them to Him ! That thus those who seek my life may be dismayed and confounded, that those who wish me evil may be turned backward and put to confusion, so that I for my part may be found obedient to the Bridegroom, and may take these foxes for Him, and not for myself, is my earnest desire. But let us return to our text at the beginning, that our explanation may proceed in due order.

5. Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the grapes. This passage relates to morals ; and, regarding it in a moral sense, we have already shown that these vines, spiritually understood, are nothing else than spiritual men, whose inward nature and faculties are all cultivated ; which germinate, bear fruit, and bring forth a spirit of salvation, so that we are able to say of these vines of the Lord of Hosts what is said of the Kingdom of God, that it is within us ( Luke xvii . 21 ). For we read in the Gospel that the Kingdom of God shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof (Matt. xxi. 43). These are they which St. Paul enumerates, saying : Thefruit of the Spirit is love,joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ( Gal. v. 22 , 23). These fruits, then, are our progress in virtue. These are accepted by the Bridegroom, because He has a care of us . Do you think that it is of mere plants of earth that God has care? It is for men, not for trees, that the God-Man has affection, and He regards our progress in holiness as His fruits. He observes diligently the season of these ; He smiles to see them appear, and takes care and shows solicitude that, when they have appeared, they should not perish for us, or rather that they should not perish for Him ; for He regards Himself as having the same interest in them as we. Therefore He commends, in His wise Providence, that the little foxes which lurk around them should be taken, lest they should ravage the fruits while still immature. And as if anyone should object, ' your fear is premature, for the time of fruit has not yet come. ' He adds : ' That is not the case, for our vines have tender grapes.' After the flowers the fruits do not delay ; the former are no sooner fallen than the latter burst forth and begin to appear.

6. That is a parable which applies to the time which is approaching. Do you see [that these signify] those Novices? They have only lately come, they have only just been converted. We cannot say of them that our vine has been in flower, for it is flowering now. That which in the meantime you see appear in them is the flower, but the time of fruit has not yet come. The flower is their new and altered manner of life, their recently adopted rule, and stricter method of conduct. They have put on a mortified countenance, and a well regulated demeanour of their whole body. That which appears in them is, I confess, pleasing, for their outward man shows less care for dress and appearance, their speech is more sparing, their countenance more cheerful, their glances more modest, their movements more quiet and measured. But since they have practised these rules of life but a very little while, this very newness obliges us to regard them, so to speak, as flowers, and their actions as the hope of fruit, rather than as fruit themselves. I do not so much fear for you, my young sons, from the cunning of the foxes, since it is well known that their hostility is directed rather against fruits than flowers. Your danger comes from another direction. For you I fear the blasting of your flowers by the frost, rather than their being torn away by violence. It is the chilling north wind that I suspect, and the morning frosts, which are wont to cut off the early and untimely flowers and the fruits in their germ. Therefore it is from the direction of the north wind that you are threatened ; for who can stand before His cold ? (Ps. cxlvii. 17). If this freezing cold has once pervaded the soul (as happens but too often to it when the spirit is in a condition of relaxation and torpor), then, if there is no one (which may God avert ) to hinder its further progress, it enters into the secret places of the heart, and into the inmost part of the soul ; it stuns and paralyzes good dispositions, it closes up the avenues by which good advice and help might come, it troubles the light of the judgment, it fetters the impulses of the spirit ; then, as it happens also to those who are suffering under a fever of the body, the soul undergoes sudden and vehement chills, its vigour is relaxed, a languor creeps over its powers, a horror of austerity is continually intensified, the fear of poverty troubles it more and more, the soul contracts, as it were, upon itself, grace ebbs away from it, life becomes wearisome, the reason is stupefied, the courage stifled, the recent fervour of the man rapidly grows cold, a fastidious and dainty lukewarmness gains ground in the soul, brotherly charity grows cold, pleasure begins to have attractions, the man falls into a false security, and the habitude of vice resumes its former prevalence. What shall I say more ? The law is evaded, righteousness is rejected, obligation proscribed, the fear of the Lord abandoned altogether. Finally, such a person yields himself to the last degree of shamelessness, he makes that leap which is rashness itself, that fall most disgraceful, shameful, and full of confusion and ignominy, from the sky into the abyss, from the pavement of a palace into a dunghill, from a throne into the gutter, from heaven into a swamp of mire, from the cloister into the outer world-yea, from paradise into hell. It is not now the time to point out the origin and beginning of this downfall, or to show by what means it may be avoided, or by what strength it may be surmounted. That shall be the task of another day. At present let us proceed with what we have begun.

7. Our discourse must be brought back to those who are more advanced in virtue, and more stedfast in it ; to the vine which has alreadyflowered, whose flowers have nothing more to fear from the cold, though its fruits are not yet secure from despoiling foxes. It has yet to be explained at greater length what is to be understood spiritually by these foxes ; why they are called ' little ' ; why the command is not that they are to be driven away, or to be slain, but that they are to be ' taken '; and how the different kinds of these are to be distinguished, so that my hearers may learn to know them, and to be more on their guard against them. But we must not enter upon this subject in the present sermon that we may not weary you, and that our devotion may not cease to be marked by willingness and zeal, through the grace and to the glory of Him who is the great Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN. Abdicatur. Another reading is abjudicatur. 2 A striking picture, indeed, of the fall of monks when in their novitiate. It may be compared with St. Bernard's ' Letters, 107, 108, 395. THE TEMPTATIONS OF MORE MATURE MONKS 383

I AM now prepared to fulfil the promise I made. The foxes signify temptations. It is unavoidable that temptations should come. For who shall be crowned except he strive lawfully ? ( 2 Tim. ii . 5) . And what occasion is there for striving if there be no enemy to oppose ? When, then, you enter into the service of God, endure constantly in fear, and prepare thy heart for temptation (Ecclus. ii . 1 , 2 ) , being assured that all who will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution ( 2 Tim. iii. 12) . Now, temptations are diverse according to the diversity of times. At the beginning of our spiritual course, when we are as tender and newly-planted flowers, it is evident that we are attacked, as it were, by the violence of cold. Of this I have spoken in a former sermon ( No. LXIII . , n. 6), and shown how we are to guard against this danger. As to those who are more advanced in holy things, the powerful enemies of good do not venture openly to oppose them, but are wont to lay wait for them in secret, like foxes full of cunning, and, though vices in reality, to put on the appearance of virtues. How many, for example, have I myself known who, when they had entered upon the ways of life, when they had even attained a high degree of perfectness, when they were going on well and safely, and making progress in the ways of righteousness , were, by the devices of these foxes, overthrown with shame and disgrace, and have lamented too late over the fruits of virtues which were blighted in them !

2. I have seen a man running well on his course, and lo, a sudden hesitation and scruple arises in him. Was not that due to one of these little foxes ' ? ' To how many,' he says, ' of my brethren and relations, of my friends and acquaintances, should I be able, if I were living in my own country and neighbourhood, to communicate of that good which I enjoy here alone ? They love me, and would easily follow my advice. Why is this waste made ? I will go thither, and in saving many of them I shall equally save myself. There is nothing to be feared in a mere change of place. What matters it where I am as long as I am doing a good work ? And, in fact, I am without doubt the better placed where I am living a more useful and fruitful life. ' Why repeat more of his reasoning ? He goes whither he desires, and, unhappy man, he perishes : rather as a dog returned to his vomit than as an exile who returns to his own land. He both comes to a miserable end himself and he fails to save any of his own people. Surely this was a little fox' ; I mean the deceptive hope which he nourished of gaining over his friends . You are able to find out for yourself other and similar ideas to this in your own mind if you examine it closely.

3. Do you wish, nevertheless, that I should point out to you one more ? I will do so ; and even a third and a fourth, if I shall find that it renders you watchful to take those that you may perhaps discover in your own vineyard. It happens sometimes that a man who is making good progress in virtue, and who feels that God has poured upon him an abundance of heavenly grace, conceives a desire to preach, not indeed to his relatives and connections, according to that saying, ' Immediately 1 conferred not withflesh and blood ' ( Gal. i. 16), but as if with a purer impulse, and with a design to be more powerful and more fruitful, to preach to strangers, and indeed to all. But still with great prudence. He fears to incur that malediction of the prophet upon him who shall withhold corn from the people ( Prov. xi. 26), and to act against the precept of the Gospel if he should not preach to all, and, as it were, upon the housetops, what he has heard in the ear ( Matt. x. 27). Now this is the temptation, so to speak, of a fox, and of one who is so much the more dangerous than the former, as he knows how to present himself secretly. But I will take him for you. First, Moses says : Thou shalt do no work with the firstling of thy bullock (Deut. xv. 19) . And this is St. Paul's interpretation : Not a novice, lest, being lifted up with pride, hefall into the condemnation of the devil ( 1 Tim. iii. 6) ; and again : No man taketh this honour unto himself but he that is called of God, as was Aaron ( Heb. v. 4) ; and still again : How shall they preach except they be sent ? (Rom. x. 15) . And we know that the function of a monk is not to teach, but to mourn for sin ( St. Jerome, Contr. Vigil.). Out of these and similar reasons I weave my net ; I take my fox, that he may not spoil the vine. From these considerations it is certain and clear that to preach in public is not expedient for a monk, is not becoming to a novice, nor, unless he be sent, even lawful. What destruction, then, to the conscience to violate at once all three of these rules ! Therefore, whatever of this nature is suggested to the mind, whether it be by your own thoughts or by the prompting of an evil angel, recognise it always as the temptation of a wily fox presenting evil under the guise ofgood.

4. Look at another case. How many are there who, being fervent in spirit, have left their monasteries and taken upon them a solitary life, and who in the event have fallen back into lukewarmness, and by a careless, if not by an abandoned, way of living, have violated the law of the solitary ? It is plain that this was the work of a fox where so extensive a devastation of the vineyard was made ; that is, so deplorable an injury to the life and conscience of the man. supposed that in a solitary life he should gather spiritual fruits with He much greater abundance than if he were in a community in which he obtained only the ordinary gifts of grace. And that imagination of his seemed good to him ; but the issue of it showed that it was due to a fox, who was as usual spoiling the vine.

5. What shall I say of that excessive and superstitious abstinence as practised by some among ourselves, who disturb us so often, and render themselves so troublesome to themselves and to all ? All the divisions which those singularities produce, do they not break up and lay waste the conscience of those who practise them, and destroy, as far as is in their power, that great vine which the Hand of God has planted, in destroying the unanimity which ought to exist among you all ? Woe to that man by whom the offence cometh ! ( Matt. xviii. 7) . Whosoever, says the Saviour, shall offend one of these little ones ( Mark ix. 42)-severe are the words which follow, but how much more severe a sentence does the person deserve who gives scandal to a community so great and so holy ! Assuredly, whosoever he is, a very severe judgment shall be passed upon him. But more of this another time.

6. Let us now consider what is said by the Bridegroom with regard to those small but cunning foxes which spoil the vines. ' Little,' not because they have little malice, but because of their subtlety. This kind of creature is by nature astute, and quick to inflict injury in secret. For this reason it seems to me well suited to be the type of certain very subtle vices, which are cloaked with an appearance of virtue, such as those ofwhich I have already given some few examples. For they have, in fact, no other power to injure than that which they derive from passing themselves off as virtues, and thus deceiving by akind of likeness which they have to the latter. They are either the vain imaginations of men, or the suggestions of evil angels, the angels of Satan, who transform themselves into the Angels of light (2 Cor. xi. 14), who prepare their arrows within the quiver (that is, in concealment) that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart (Ps. xi. 2 ). This is why, as I think, they are called ' little, ' because, while other vices are, as it were, bulky, and show themselves openly, these are slender, subtle, and hard to be recognised, except by those who are perfect, experienced, and clear sighted, having their eyes enlightened to discern between good and evil, and especially by those advanced in the spiritual life , who are able to say with the Apostle, ' We are not ignorant of the devices [of Satan] ' ( 2 Cor. ii . 11 ). Perhaps, too, this is the reason why the command of the Bridegroom is, not that they should be exterminated, or driven away, or slain, but that they should be taken ; namely, because such little spiritual beasts (bestiolas) as these are full of craftiness, and require to be watched with the utmost vigilance and care, so that they may be taken (that is, caught in the trap of) their own craftiness. Therefore when their device is discovered, their fraud laid bare, their falseness demonstrated, then with the utmost fitness is it said that there is taken the little fox which spoiled the vine. It is thus, in fact, that we speak of a man being 25 taken in his discourse, as we read in the Gospel that the Pharisees took counsel that they might entangle Jesus in His talk ( Matt. xxii. 15) .

7. Thus, then, the Bridegroom orders the little foxes, which spoil the grapes, to be taken that is, to be surprised, discovered, and convicted. This kind of pest alone has it for a distinct mark that if known and recognised it has no power to harm, so that for it to be discovered is to be vanquished. For who, except a person void of understanding, would step knowingly and wilfully into a trap that is discovered to him? It is sufficient, then, for temptations of that kind to be ' taken '-that is, to be uncovered and brought into the light ; to those who have become aware of them they are harmless. It is not thus with other vices. For their attack is openly made, and their powers of injury are manifest; they take captive even those who are aware of them, they overcome the reluctant, but by open force, and not by guile. Therefore against those (as it were) ferocious brutes what is needed is not to seek them out, but to overcome and render them powerless. Against these little foxes ' ( who, because they are unable to hurt if discovered, have extraordinary powers of concealing themselves) it suffices that they be brought out into the light, for they have hiding-places, and taken in their own craftiness. For such reasons those foxes are described as ' little, ' and ordered to be taken. Or again, they may be named thus to show that vices should be diligently observed in their earlier stages, that they may be taken while they are still young and small, and not allowed to grow greater, when they will both do more injury, and be with greater difficulty mastered.

8. If we understand these words in an allegorical sense, so as to take the vines as signifying Churches, and the foxes as heresies, or rather as the heretics themselves, the simple and natural sense is that heretics should be ' taken ' rather than merely driven away. They should be taken, I say, not by force of arms, but by force of arguments, by which their errors are refuted, and they themselves, if possible, brought back to the true faith, and reconciled to the Catholic Church.1 For this is the will of Him who desires all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth ( 1 Tim. ii. 4). He shows here, in fact, that He desires this, since He says, not simply Take the foxes, but Take us the foxes. He desires, then, that they should be taken for Him, and for His Bride that is, the Church Catholic, since He says : ' Take them for us. ' Therefore the Churchman, who is skilled and learned, if he undertakes to argue with a heretic, ought to direct his endeavours to convince him that he has erred, and to convert him, bearing in mind that saying of the Apostle James : He which converteth the sinnerfrom the error of his way shall save a soulfrom death, and shall hide a multitude ofsins (James v. 20). If he is unwilling to be brought back, and is not convinced after a first and a second admonition, because he is entirely perverted, then, according to St. Paul, he is to be rejected (Titus iii. 10). In this case it would be preferable, as I consider, that he should be driven: away, or even a restraint put upon his liberty, than that he should be allowed to spoil the vines.

9. Let it not, therefore, be supposed that a man has done a small or unimportant thing who has vanquished and refuted a heretic, who has disproved his heresy, who has distinguished clearly and plainly his fair-seeming theories from the truth, who has shown by obvious and irrefragable reasoning the faultiness and erroneous nature of his dogmas ; and, in short, has subjugated that haughty and perverted intellect which set itself up against the knowledge revealed by God. He who has brought about such results as these has taken ' the fox nevertheless, though not to his conversion and saving ; he has taken him equally for the Bridegroom and the Bride, though after another manner. For the Church is strengthened in the faith, though that heretic be not raised up out of the mire of his errors ; while the Bridegroom, without doubt, rejoices in the spiritual progress of His Bride,. and the joy of the Lord is our strength (Neh. viii. 10). He who is so condescending as to associate Himself with us, regards our advantage as a matter in which He has an interest, and, therefore, bids. the foxes be taken, not for Himself, but for us with Himself. Note the phrase, ' Take for us ' what can be more companionable and friendly ? Does it not seem to you that He says this, as it were, like some father of a family, who possesses nothing separately for himself and his own advantage, but shares all things with wife and children and domestics ? And He who thus speaks is God ; yet He does not say this at all as God, but as the Bridegroom.

10. Take us the foxes. Do you see in how social and equable a manner He says this, He who has no companion or equal ? He might have said, ' Take for me,' but He delights to associate others with Himself, and, therefore, preferred to say, ' Take for us. ' O sweetness, O grace, O power of love ! Is it possible that the Sovereign of all has become one of the mass of beings ? Who has done this ? It is Love ; which is regardless of dignity, rich in condescension, powerful in affection, efficacious in persuasion. What. more forceful than love ? It prevails even with God. And yet, since it is Love, is there anything that is more gentle ? What strength is that, I ask, which is so forceful for victory, so gentle in the face of violence ? For the Lord emptied Himself (Phil. ii . 7), so that you might know it to be the effect of His great love, that His Fulness was poured forth and expended, that His loftiness was brought down to the level of others, and His unique position associated with them. With whom is it, O admirable Bridegroom, that you have so close and intimate an alliance ? ' Take for us,' you say, ' the foxes. ' For whom ' with you ?' Is it for the Church gathered out of the Gentiles ? That is composed of mortal and sinful beings. What she is, we know ; but Thou, what art Thou, to be the devoted and eager spouse of this Ethiopian woman ? (Num. xii. 1) Not another Moses, assuredly, but a greater than Moses. For Thou art He who is fairer than the children of men (Ps. xlv. 2). But in saying this I have said too little : Thou art the brightness of the Eternal Life, the Splendour and express Image of the Person of God (Heb. i. 3) ; and finally, Thou art above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

I HAVE already delivered to you two sermons upon one verse ; I propose to deliver a third, if it will not weary you to listen. And I think it even necessary to do so ; for though, as far as relates to our domestic vine, which is no other than yourselves, my brethren, I have, I think, sufficiently forearmed you, in the two preceding sermons, against the crafty advances of three kinds of foxes ; namely, flatterers, calumniators, and certain seducing spirits who are skilled and experienced in presenting evil under the guise of good ; yet that is not the case with the dominical, that is, the Lord's vine. I speak of that vine which has filled the earth, and of which we also are a part ; a vine great and spreading, planted by the Hand of the Lord, redeemed by His Blood, watered by His Word, propagated by His grace, and rendered fruitful by His Spirit. The more carefully I have dealt with that which was of private and personal concern, the less valuable were my remarks with regard to that which was common and public. But it troubles me greatly, on behalf of that vine, to behold the multitude of its assailants, the fewness of its defenders, and the difficulty of the defence. The hidden and furtive character of the attack is the cause of this difficulty. For from the beginning the Church has had foxes ; but they have been soon found out and taken. An heretic combated openly (indeed, that was the principal reason why the name was given, because the desire of the heretic was to gain an open victory), and was manifestly overcome. Those foxes, therefore, were easily taken. But what if a heretic, when the truth was set clear in the light before him, remained in the shadow of his obstinacy, and, bound (as it were) hand and foot in the outer darkness, withered away in solitude ? Even then the fox was deemed to be ' taken ' when his impiety was condemned, and the impious one cast out, thenceforth to live in a mere show of life without fruitfulness. From this to such an one, according to the Prophet, comes a sterile womb and dry breasts (Hos. ix. 14) : because an error, publicly confuted, does not soon shoot up again, and an evident falsehood does not take root.

2. What shall we do to take those foxes, the most malignant and dangerous of all, who prefer the inflicting of severe injury to the enjoyment of open victory, and who crawl to, and steal upon, their purpose in order not to be seen ? With all heretics the one intention has always been to obtain praise for themselves by the remarkable extent of their knowledge. But there is a heresy which alone is more malignant and more artful than others, since it feeds upon the losses of others, and neglects its own glory. It is instructed, I believe, by the examples of those ancient heresies which, when betrayed, were by no means suffered to escape, but were forthwith captured ; and so is careful to actuate secretly, by a new method of mischief, this mystery of iniquity, and that with the greater freedom the less it is suspected. Furthermore, its promoters have met together, as it is said, at places appointed in secret, and concerted together their nefarious discourses. ' Take oaths, if needful ; take them even falsely, ' they say the one to the other, ' rather than betray the secret. ' But at another time they do not consider it right by any means to swear, not even in the smallest degree, because of those words in the Gospel : Swearnotat all; neither byheaven nor by the earth ( Matt. v. 34, 35), etc. O foolish and hard of heart, filled with the spirit of the Pharisees, ye, too, strain out a gnat and swallow a camel ( Matt. xxiii. 24). To swear is not permitted, but to swear falsely, that is permissible, as if the allowance to do the latter did not carry with it the former also ! In what passage of the Gospel, of which you do not, as you falsely boast, pass over one iota, do you find that exception ? It is clear that you, both by superstition, forbid the taking of an oath, and, at the same time, wickedly presume to authorize a perjury. O strange perversity ! That which is given only as a counsel of perfection-namely, Swear not--- that they observe as rigidly and contentiously as if it were a positive command ; while that which is laid down as an unchangeable lawnamely, never to be guilty of perjury-they dispense with at their own will as a thing indifferent. No, say they ; but let us not make known our secret. As if it were not to the glory of God to make known teaching [that is to edification] (Dan. ii. 28, 29) ! Do they envy the glory of God ? But I rather believe that they are ashamed to have their secret known, being conscious that it does not redound to their glory; for they are said to practise in secret things obscene and abominable, even as the hinder parts of foxes are offensive.

3. But I do not wish to speak of that which they deny ; let them answer only to those which are known and manifest. Are they careful, according to the Gospel precept, not to give that which is holy unto the dogs, or to cast pearls before swine ? ( Matt. vii. 6). But do not they who regard all who belong to the Church as dogs and swine, plainly confess that they are not of the Church themselves ? For they consider that their secret, whatever it is, should be kept wholly from the knowledge of all, without exception, who are not of their sect. What their doctrine is they do not avow, and they adopt every means to avoid its becoming known ; but yet they do not succeed. Reply to me, O man, who art wise above that which is meet, and yet more foolish than can be expressed in words. Is the secret which you are concealing of God, or is it not? If it is, why do you not make it known to His glory ? For it is to the glory of God to reveal that which comes from Him. But if it is not, why do you put faith in that which is not of God, unless because you are a heretic ? Either, then, let them proclaim the secret as coming from God to the glory of God, or let them confess that the secret is not of God, and thereby allow that they are heretics ; or, at least, let them allow that they are manifestly enemies of the glory of God, since they are unwilling to make manifest a thing which would be conducive to that glory. For it is stated with preciseness in Scripture : It is the glory of kings to conceal a matter, but it is the glory of God to reveal discourse. Are you not willing to reveal it ? Then you do not desire to glorify God. But perhaps you do not receive this Scripture. Doubtless this is the case, for [sectaries] profess that they are followers of the Gospel, and the only ones. Let them, then, reply to the Gospel, What I tellyou in darkness, saith the Lord, that speak ye in light : and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetops ( Matt. x. 27). Now, it is not permitted to you to be silent. How long is that kept under the veil of secrecy which God declares is to be made known ? How long is your Gospel to be hidden ? I suspect that your Gospel is not that of St. Paul, for he declares that his Gospel is not hidden, or rather he says this : If our Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost ( 2 Cor. iv. 3). Does not this apply to you who have among you a Gospel that is hidden ? What is more plain than that you are in the way of being lost ? Or perhaps you do not receive even the Epistles of St. Paul. I have heard that it is so with certain persons among you. For, although you all agree in differing from us, you do not all agree in all respects among yourselves.

4. But, at all events, you all receive, without exception, if I do not mistake, the words, the writings, and the traditions of those who were personally with the Saviour, as of equal authority with the Gospel. Now, did they keep their Gospel secret ? Did they hide the weakness of the flesh in the Divine Son, the terrible circumstances of His Death, or the ignominy of His Cross ? Did not their words, indeed, go forth into the whole world ? (Ps. xix. 4). Where, then, is there in you that following of the Apostolic life and conduct of which you boast ? They cry aloud, you whisper in secret ; they teach in public, you in a corner ; they fly as a cloud (Is. lx. 8), while as for you, you conceal yourselves in the darkness and in the cellars of your houses. What likeness to them do you display ? Is it in that you do not indeed take women as travelling companions, but as inmates ? Who could suspect those who raised the dead to life of anything unbecoming ? Do you do likewise, and whatever be the circumstances in which you are found, I will be far from suspecting you. Otherwise you are rashly usurping to yourself the privilege of those whose sanctity you do not possess. To expose yourselves always to temptation and never to fall by it, is not that a greater miracle than to raise the dead ? You are not able to do that which is less, and do you wish me to believe that you do that which is greater ? You wish to be thought irreproachable. Let it be granted that you are so ; yet suspicion is not wanting. You are to me a subject of scandal ; take away the occasion of the scandal, that you may show yourself what it is your boast to be, a true follower of the Gospel. Does not the Gospel condemn that man who offends (scandalizaverit) even one member of the Church ? And you are a scandal to the whole Church. You are a fox that spoils the vines. Help me, my friends, to take him, or rather do ye, O holy Angels, take him for us. He is crafty in the extreme ; he is enveloped in his iniquity and impiety. Evidently he is so small and so subtle that he may easily elude the notice of men. But shall he elude yours also ? It is to you, therefore, as the companions of the Bridegroom, that those words are addressed : Take us the littlefoxes. Do, then, that which you are commanded : take for us this little fox so skilled in dissimulation that we have so long been in pursuit of him in vain. Teach us and suggest to us in what manner his guile may be discovered. For this is to take the fox, because as a pretended Catholic he does much more injury than when made manifest as really a heretic. For it is not in the power of man to discover what is in the heart of another man, unless indeed he is either enlightened to this end by the Spirit of God, or instructed by the care of the Angels. What sign will you give to make open and manifest to all this pernicious heresy which knows so well how to disguise itself, not only by words, but also by actions ?

5. And, indeed, the recent spoiling of a vine shows clearly that the fox has been there. But I know not by what art that most crafty animal so conceals his footsteps, that it is by no means easy to be discovered where either his ingress or his egress was made. Though the mischief done is evident, the doer of it is not visible, and he hides his presence by the very destruction he has done. In fact, if you 1 Some MSS. read quam verus hereticus. But others, and also the first editions, read as above. interrogate him as to his faith, nothing is more Christianlike ; or as to his conduct, nothing more unblamable ; and he seems to justify his discourse by his actions. Such a man is seen, in order to give testimony of his faith, to frequent the Church, to honour the clergy (presbyteros), to offer his gifts, to make confession, to participate in the Sacraments. What can be more orthodox ? Then as relates to character and conduct, he deceives no one, he exalts himself over no one, nor does violence to any. Furthermore, his cheeks are pale with fasts ; nor does he eat the bread of idleness, but labours with his hands for his maintenance. Where, then, is the fox ? We held him fast just now. How has he escaped from our hands ? In what manner has he so suddenly disappeared ? Let us pursue him, let us seek him ; we shall recognise him by his fruits. Assuredly the spoiling of the vines is a proof that the fox has been there. Women have quitted their husbands, men have deserted their wives, to join themselves to these people. Clerks and priests, as well young as old (intonsi et barbati), often abandon their flocks and their churches, and are found in the throng, among weavers male and female. Is not that a terrible spoiling indeed ? Are not these the doings of foxes ?

6. But perhaps they do not all perform actions so unmistakable, and if they do there is no proof of the fact. How, then, shall we take these ? Let us return to the former accusation, for there is no one among them but is involved in that. I ask, then, of some one of those people : ' My good man, who is that woman with you, and what is her relation to you ? Is she your wife ?' ' No,' he replies ; ' I have taken a vow which does not allow me to marry.' ' Is she your daughter ?' ' No.' ' What, then, is she your sister, or your niece, or, at least, a relation or family connection of yours ?' ' No, she is not related to me in any way.' ' How, then, can you live safely thus ? It is not permitted to you to act in this way. If you are not aware of it, let me remind you that the Church forbids it. If you do not wish to give scandal to the Church, obey the command. If you do not do so, then, from that one fact, others will be, without doubt, inferred as probable, though they be not open and manifest.'

7. ' But ' (he says to me) ' in what place of the Gospel do you find any proof that this is forbidden ? Very well, you have appealed to the Gospel ; to the Gospel you shall go. If, then, you obey the Gospel, you will not give occasion for scandal, for this is a thing which the Gospel plainly forbids. And this scandal is just what you do give, in not conforming to the regulation of the Church. You had been previously under suspicion of despising the Gospel, and being an enemy of the Church, but now you are manifestly convicted of it. What think you of it, my brethren ? If he remains obstinate, and will neither obey the Gospel, nor show any respect unto the Church, what room is there for hesitation ? Does it not seem to you that the fraud is discovered, that the fox is taken ? If he suffers a scandal to remain which he has it in his power to put an end to, he 1 Can. iii . , dist. 37 , de Cohabit. Clericor. , Synod. Nicaen. is convicted of disobedience to the Gospel. What ought the Church to do but to expel a person who is unwilling to take away scandal, so that she may not share his disobedience ? For she has a commandment in the Gospel as to this, and it bids her not spare her own eye, or hand, or foot, if it be a cause of scandal, but to pluck out the one and cut off the other, and cast it away. If he neglect to hear the Church, it is said, let him be unto thee as an heathen man anda publican (Matt. xviii. 6-9, 17).

8. Have we reached any result ? I think we have ; we have taken the fox, since we have discovered his deception. Those pretended Catholics who were really destroyers of the Church have been made manifest. Even while you were taking with me sweet [and heavenly] food, I mean the Body and Blood of Christ, while we walked in the House of God as friends, a place for persuasion, or, rather, an opportunity for perversion, was found, according to the saying of Scripture : An hypocrite with his mouth destroyeth his neighbour (Prov. xi. 9) . But now I easily, according to the wise admonition of S. Paul, avoid a man that is a heretic after the first and second admonition, knowing thathe that is such is subverted, andsinneth, being condemned ofhimself (Titus iii. 10, 11 ), and that it behoves me to be on my guard, lest he cause my subversion also. It is, then, something gained, according to the word of the Wise, that transgressors should be taken in their own naughtiness ( Prov. xi. 6), and especially those transgressors the weapons of whose warfare are deceit and snares. Open attack and defence they do not venture upon, for they are a despicable and rustic race, devoid of education, and wholly destitute of generous courage. In short, they are foxes, and little foxes. Even their errors are not defensible, not clever and able, nor even plausible, except only to country women and ignorant persons, such as are all those of their sect whom I have as yet seen. For I do not recall, among all their assertions which I have heard (and they are many), anything novel or extraordinary, but only commonplaces long since broached among the heretics of old, and by our divines confuted and crushed. Yet it ought to be shown, and I will endeavour to show, what absurdities these are, being partly such as they have fallen into through incautiously taking one side or the other in questions disputed between Catholics, partly such as they have exposed themselves to by their dissensions with each other, and partly such as some of them who have returned to the Church have discovered to us, and this I will do, not that I may reply to them all (for that is unnecessary), but in order that they may be known. But that will be a task for another sermon, to the praise and glory of the Name of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

WITH these foxes I am still busied. They are those who wander out of the path and lay waste the vineyard. They are not content with quitting the road [of right], but turn the vineyard into a desert by their wicked falsehoods. It is not enough for them to be heretics ; they must, as if to fill up the measure of their wrongdoing, be hypocrites also. These are they who come in sheep's clothing to strip the sheep and despoil the rams. not seem to you that this is what they have done when, on the one hand, they rob the people of their faith, and, on the other, deprive the priests of their people ? Who are these robbers ? They are sheep in appearance, but foxes in cunning, and in their actions have the cruelty of wolves. They are men who desire to seem good, but are not ; who desire not to seem evil, but are so. Evil they are, yet they wish to be thought good, lest they should be left alone in their evil ; and they fear to appear evil, lest they should not thus have sufficient power for evil. For open malice has always been less dangerous ; nor is a person who is good ever deceived, except by a pretence of goodness. They study, then, to appear good in order to do injury to the good, and shrink from appearing evil that they may thus give their evil designs fuller scope. For they do not care to cultivate virtues, but only to colour their vices with a delusive tinge of virtues. Under the veil of religion they conceal an impious superstition ; they regard the mere refraining from doing wrong openly as innocence, and thus take for themselves an outward appearance of goodness only. For a cloak to their infamy they make a vow of continence. They think that infamy consists only in having wives, whereas it is marriage alone that is pure. Coarse they are, and stupid, and altogether contemptible ; but, I assure you, not on that account to be disregarded ; for they succeed in doing much evil, and their word eateth as doth a cancer ( 2 Tim. ii. 16, 17) .

2. Nor has the Holy Spirit overlooked such as these, since He has plainly prophesied of them long since by the mouth of the Apostle : Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils ; speaking lies in hypocrisy ; having their conscience seared witha hot iron ; forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstainfrom meats, which Godhath created to be received with thanksgiving ( 1 Tim. iv. 1-3). It was evidently of those people that He spake. They forbid mar riage, they abstain from the food which God created ; of which latter subject I will presently speak. But now see if all these things are not rather an illusion ofdemons than a mere mistake of men, according to that which had been foretold by the Holy Spirit. Ask of them who is the author of their sect ; they will name no one. Yetwhat heresy has not had from among men its own leader (hæresiarcham) ? The Manicheans had Manes for chief and for master ; the Sabellians, Sabellius ; the Arians, Arius ; the Eunomians, Eunomius ; the Nestorians , Nestorius. So is it with all the other plagues of this kind ; each of them has some man for its master, from whom it has drawn at once its origin and its name. But what name or what title will you consider should be bestowed upon these people ? Truly, none at all1 ; for their heresy is not of man, nor have they received it by man. God forbid that we should say that they had it by the revelation of Jesus Christ ( Gal. i. 12 ), but, rather, and without doubt, as the Holy Spirit foretold, by the suggestions and artifices of seducing spirits, speaking lies in hypocrisy, and forbidding marriage.

3. They talk also with hypocrisy, and with a vulpine cunning pretend that they speak from mere love of chastity, whereas they have no other purpose than to foment and multiply impurity. It is so evident that this is their intention that I wonder how any Christian man could ever be persuaded that it was otherwise, unless, indeed, he were so wanting in insight as not to perceive that he who condemns marriage loosens the reins to every kind of uncleanness ; or so full of wickedness, and absorbed in diabolical malignity, as to shut his eyes to what he cannot but perceive, and rejoice at the destruction of men. If you take away from the Church marriage, which is honourable and undefiled (Heb. xiii. 4), will you not fill the Church with persons guilty of every kind of uncleanness ? Choose, then, which alternative you prefer ; either that all these monsters of wickedness are saved, or that the number of the saved is reduced to the few who have kept continence unbroken ; in the one case you include too few, in the other case too many. Neither of these alternatives is suited to the Saviour. What ! shall infamy be crowned ? Nothing is less suitable to the source of purity. Or, on the other hand, shall men be universally condemned, with the sole exception of the very few who have preserved their continence ? That is not to be a Saviour. Continence is rare upon the earth ; and if it were not for a very few persons that fulness of grace would have expired altogether. And how have we all received of that fulness (John i. 16) if a share of it is vouchsafed to those only who are continent ? There is no reply that can be made to that argument, nor yet, I think, to the other 1 I do not know how St. Bernard could have spoken thus, if these heretics of Cologne had been Henricians, and the name of their master Henry. It is true that the doctrines of these people and those of the Henricians were similar, as appears from his Letters 240, 241. Among these heretics of Cologne Eberwin distinguishes two classes, which distinction St. Bernard just touches upon at the end of Sermon LXV. alternative. If there is for purity only a place in heaven, if there is no companionship between purity and impurity, just as there is no fellowship of light with darkness, then it is certain that no one who is unclean has any place in the land of salvation. If anyone thinks otherwise, an Apostolic voice shall convict him of error, asserting expressly : They which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God (Gal. v. 21). From what cavern shall this artful fox now creep forth ? I think that he is taken in his burrow, in which he has made for himself two holes, one to enter by, the other to give him egress. This it is his custom to do. See now by what means each of these is closed to him. If he maintains that only the continent have a place in heaven, he denies salvation to the vast majority of people ; if, on the contrary, he holds that those guilty of every kind of defilement have a place there equally with the continent, he causes purity to perish. But it is more accurate to say that he perishes himself, being unable to escape in either direction ; and, thus shut up for ever, remains a prisoner in the pit which he has digged.

4. Certain persons among them, differing from the rest, declare that marriage is permitted, but only to those who are virgins. But I do not perceive on what ground of reason they make this distinction, except it be that they contend with each other to tear and rend asunder, each at his own pleasure, as it were with the teeth of serpents, the Sacraments of the Church, which are, so to speak, the bowels of their mother. For as to what they allege, that our first parents were virgins when their marriage took place: what is there in that fact, I ask, to prejudice the liberty of marriage, so that it may not be entered into between those who are not virgin ? But I know not what declaration they whisper that they have found in the Gospel, which they wrongly imagine favours their absurd folly. I believe that it is the word which Our Lord spake after He had recalled that testimony in the book of Genesis : Godcreated man in His own image, in the image of God created He him : male and female created He them ; He then added : What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder (Gen. i. 27 ; Matt. xix. 6). These, they say, were both virgins whom God joined together, and it was then not lawful to separate them ; but no union of those who are otherwise [than virgin] shall be presumed to be from God. But who has told you that God joined those two together, because they were virgins ? This the Scripture does not assert. But were they not virgins ? replies the objector. They were ; but it is not the same thing to unite those who were virgins, and to unite them because they were virgins. Again, although they were virgins, you will not find the fact even expressly stated [much less given as the reason for their union] . Their diversity of sex is expressly stated, not their virginity, since it is declared : Male andfemale created He them. And rightly so, for the marriage relation requires, not necessarily virginity of body, but difference of sex in the two persons who enter into it. With entire fitness, then, did the Holy Spirit, in the record of the institution of marriage, make mention of sex, but preserve silence as to virginity, so as not to give occasion to those guileful foxes to misapply the text, which unquestionably they would have done with great willingness, but in vain. For what if the Holy Spirit had said that ' God created them virgins ? Would you not have forthwith inferred that it was permitted to virgins alone to be joined in marriage ? How you would have assumed airs of triumph upon the strength of this single statement ! How scornfully you would have rejected second and third marriages ! How you would have insulted the Church Catholic, inasmuch as she willingly joins together even persons who have fallen and become infamous, because she regards this as assuredly the means for enabling them to pass from a state of shame to a state of honour ! Perhaps you would even blame God for having commanded one of His prophets to take to wife a woman of that class (Hosea i. 2 ) ; but now the entire ground is wanting for your doing all this, and it pleases you to be a heretic of your own accord. For the statement that you have unjustly adduced to support your error is found, on the contrary, to destroy it ; it does nothing in your favour, but much against you.

5. But now listen to another Scripture which ought to confound you entirely, or correct you, and which, at all events, crushes and pulverizes your heresy. The wife is bound by the law as long as her husband liveth ; but if her husband be dead, she is at liberty to be married to whom she will : only in the Lord ( 1 Cor. vii . 39). It is St. Paul who allows to a widow to marry whom she will, and you, on the contrary, prescribe that none but a virgin shall marry ; nor may she marry whom she will, but only a man who is likewise virgin. Why do you restrain the Hand of God? Why do you restrict the abundant benediction bestowed on marriage, and narrow to the virgin alone that which is vouchsafed to all her sex ? St. Paul would not permit this unless it were lawful. But it is too little to say that he permits it ; he also desires it to be done. Iwill therefore, he says, that the younger women marry ( 1 Tim. v. 14), and there is no doubt that he speaks of widows. What can be plainer than this ? That therefore which he permits, because it is lawful, he also desires, because it is expedient.. That, then, which is permitted, and is expedient, shall a heretic presume to forbid ? He will convince men of nothing by this prohibition, except that he is a heretic.

6. It remains that we should correct those people a little on the other points included in the Apostolic prophecy. For they abstain, as is there predicted, from various kinds of food which God has created to be received with thanksgiving, and thus prove themselves to be heretics, not simply because they abstain, but because they abstain in an heretical spirit. For I, too, sometimes abstain from food ; but my abstinence is a satisfaction for sins, and not due to superstition and impiety. Shall we blame St. Paul when he kept under his body, and brought it into subjection ( 1 Cor. ix. 27) ? I will abstain from wine, because in it is excess (Eph. v. 18) ; or, if I am weak, will use a little, according to the counsel of St. Paul ( 1 Tim. v. 23). I will abstain from eating flesh, lest it should toe much pamper my flesh, and with it the lusts of the flesh. I will study to take even bread by measure that I may not, through fulness of stomach, stand wearily and reluctantly to pray to God, and that I may not be open to the reproach of the Prophet that I have eaten my bread in fulness ( Ezek. xvi. 49). I will not accustom myself to drink immoderately even of pure water, lest it may excite in me feelings corrupt. It is quite otherwise with the heretic. He turns from milk, and all that is made of it ; in fact, from everything which is the result of that function. That would be acting rightly and Christianly, if it were done, not because it was the result of that function, but from a motive of prudence.

7. But how does it come about that everything thus resulting is avoided in this manner ? That minute scrutiny of kinds of food, so significantly expressed, is to me a cause for suspicion. If you bring forward this as a medical rule, I do not blame this care for the physical health, provided it be not excessive ; for no one ever hated his own flesh. If as a part of the discipline of abstinence, that is, of the school of spiritual medicine, I even approve it as a virtue, by which you bring the flesh under due rule, and restrain its desires. But if, by the madness of the Manichean, you set bounds to the beneficence of God, so that the food which He has created and given to men to be partaken of with thanksgiving you, as a rash and ungrateful critic, pronounce unclean, and abstain from it as from an evil thing, then, far from praising your abstinence, I hold in execration your blasphemy, I hold you to be yourself impure, in considering that anything is impure in itself. To the pure all things are pure, says an excellent judge of things ; and nothing is impure except to him who regards it as such ; but unto them that are defiledand unbelieving, he adds, is nothing pure ; but even their mind and conscience is defiled (Titus i . 15) . Woe to you who reject food which God has created, judging it impure and unworthy to pass into your bodies ; wherefore the Body of Christ, which is the Church, has rejected you yourselves as defiled and impure.

8. I am not unmindful that they boast that they, and they alone, are the Body of Christ ; but that is not astonishing, since they persuade themselves also that they have the power to consecrate daily at their tables the Body and Blood of Christ, to nourish them to become His members and His Body. For they boast that they are successors of the Apostles, and call themselves Apostolicals, though they are not able to show any sign of their apostolate. How long shall the lantern remain under a bushel ? Ye are the light of the world, was said to the Apostles, and therefore are they set upon a candlestick, that they may enlighten the whole world. Let these successors of the Apostles be ashamed to be the light, not of the world, but of a bushel, and to the world to be but darkness. Let us 1 See the Letter of Eberwin, p. 3. say to them, Ye are the darkness of the world, and pass on to other things. They say that they are the Church, but they contradict Him who said, A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid ( Matt. v. 14). Do you believe that the stone, which was cut out without hands, and then became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth ( Dan. ii . 34, 35) , is shut up in your caverns ? Nor ought we to stop even here. Their opinion is content with whispering in private, and avoids being known openly. Christ has, and will always have, His entire inheritance, and the ends of the earth are His possession. Those who attempt to withdraw from Him this great inheritance rather cease to form a part of it themselves.

9. See now those detractors, those dogs. They make it a cause of ridicule against us that we baptize children, that we pray for the dead, that we entreat the suffrages of the Saints. They hasten to proscribe Christ in people at every age and of either sex ; in children and in adults, in the living and in the dead; forbidding [the new Birth in Him through Baptism] to infants because of the weakness of their age, and to adults also because of the difficulty of continence. They deprive the dead of the succour of the living, and the living of the suffrages of the Saints who have died. But God forbid that it should be so . The Lord will not give up His people, who are as the sand of the sea ; nor will He who redeemed all be contented with a small number, and those, heretics . For His Redemption is not small, but great and abounding. What is the pettiness of their number to the greatness of the price He paid ? Those who attempt to empty it [of its efficacy], deprive themselves of it. Of what importance is it that an infant is not able to speak for himself, while the voice of the Blood of his Brother, and of a Brother so great and prevailing, cries to God from the ground for him ? The Church, which is his Mother, arises and lifts up her voice on his behalf also. And what of the child himself? Does it not seem to you that in his inarticulate infantine cries he opens his mouth, gasping, if I may so speak, for the Saviour's fountains of grace, and crying out to God in his plaints, Lord, I am oppressed ; undertake for me ( Is. xxxviii. 14). It demands eagerly the help of grace, because it suffers violence from nature. It cries because it is innocent and unhappy, because it is ignorant and small, because it is weak and doomed to suffer. All these things thus cry out together : the Blood of a Brother, the faithfulness of a Mother, the abandoned condition of the unhappy child, and the misery of it as abandoned ; and these cries rise up to the Father ; and He, because He is the Father, is not able to deny Himself.

10. Let no one object to me that a child has not faith, for its Mother [that is, the Church] communicates to it her own, wraps it in this faith, so to speak, as in a cloak, in the Sacrament of Baptism, which she bestows upon it ; so that it becomes worthy to receive and to develop that faith in its purity, if not by its own active powers, yet with its passive assent. Is it not a short and narrow cloak which 1 A natura. Other readings are : ab origine and a peccato. cannot cover two ? The faith of the Church is great. Surely it is not less than the faith of the Canaanitish woman, which we know was sufficient both for her daughter and herself. Therefore she had the happiness to hear : O woman, great is thyfaith ; be it unto thee even as thou wilt ( Matt. xv. 28). Nor is it less than the faith of those who let down the paralytic through the roof before Jesus, and obtained for him the saving both of soul and of body. For we read : Jesus, seeing their faith, said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee ; and a little after : Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine house ( Matt. ix. 2-6). He who believes these things will be easily persuaded that the Church may presume with good reason, not only of the salvation of those little children who are baptized in her faith, but also of the crown of martyrdom for those infants who were slain for Christ. And as this is the case, those who are regenerate will not suffer prejudice from that which is said in another Scripture, Withoutfaith itis impossibletoplease God( Heb. xi . 6) ; since they who have received the grace of Baptism for a testimony of faith are not without faith. Neither will they be hurt by that other declaration : He that believeth not shall be damned (Mark xvi. 16). For what is it to believe but to have faith ? Therefore, also, a woman shall be saved in child-bearing, ' if they continue in faith and charity and holiness, with sobriety '1 ( 1 Tim. ii. 15) ; and children shall be succoured by the Regeneration of Baptism. Adult persons also, who are not able to contain, redeem themselves by the thirtyfold ( Matt. xiii. 8) fruit of marriage. The dead also, who shall have need of the prayers and sacrifices of the living, and shall be worthy of them, shall receive them by the good offices of the Angels ; and from those who have already attained, comforts and consolations shall in no wise be wanting to the living, because of the affection which they have in God, who is everywhere, and the charitable care they feel for those who are absent ; for to this end Christ both died and rose and revived, that He might be Lord both of the dead and living (Rom. xiv. 9). To this end, also, He was born as an Infant, and passed through all degrees of age, till He became a perfect Man, that He might be wanting to no age. II . They do not believe that there remains a purgatorial fire after death; but that the soul, when released from the body, passes at once either to rest or to damnation. Let them, then, ask of Him, who declared of a certain sin that it should not be forgiven, ' neither in this world, nor in the world to come ' ( Matt. xii. 32), why He said this, if there were no forgiveness at all in the world to come. is not wonderful that those who do not acknowledge the Church should make light of the Orders of the Church ; that they should not receive her Institutions ; that they should despise her Sacraments, Butit 1 The readings vary here. In the Jumièges MS. it is, with the Vulgate, ' in fide et dilectione, cum sanctificatione et sobrietate ' ; in the Colbertine, ' infide cum sobrietate '; in that of St. Germain, and in the earliest editions, ' in fide cum lenitate. ' ( Mabillon prefers the last. ) and refuse to obey her commands. The successors of the Apostles, ' they say, ' are all sinners, Archbishops, Bishops, and Presbyters, and therefore are not fit either to administer Sacraments or receive them.' Are, then, these two things, to be a Bishop and to be a sinner, so incompatible as that they can never be found in the same person ? That is not the case. Caiaphas was a Bishop ; and how great a sinner was he, who pronounced sentence of death upon the Lord? If you deny that he was a Bishop, the testimony of St. John, who declares that he was High Priest for that year, and prophesied (John xi. 51) , shall convict you of error. Judas was an Apostle, and even chosen by the Lord ; yet he was covetous, and a man accursed. Do you hesitate to allow that he had the apostolate whom the Lord Himself chose ? He Himself said : Have I not chosen you twelve, and one ofyou is a devil? (John vi. 70). You hear that the same man was a chosen Apostle, and showed himself a devil ; and do you deny that a man who is a sinner can possibly be a Bishop ? The Scribes and Pharisees sat in Moses' seat ; and those who did not obey them (as obedience is in like manner due to Bishops) were guilty, in fact, of disobedience to the Lord Himself, who gives these commands, and says : Whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do (Matt. xxiii. 2, 3). It is clear, then, that although they were Scribes, although they were Pharisees, although they were even the greatest of sinners, yet for the sake of the chair [ of authority] of Moses which they occupy that saying, nevertheless, applies to them : He that hearethyou, heareth Me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth Me ( Luke x. 16) .

12. There are many other erroneous and evil opinions which are urged upon this foolish and undiscerning people by those spirits of evil, who speak lies in hypocrisy; but it is not needful to make reply to all. For who is acquainted with all these errors ? Besides, the labour of doing so would be unending ; nor is it in the least necessary. For as for those people, neither are they convinced by reasons, because they do not understand them, nor corrected by the weight of authorities, for they do not receive them ; nor are they influenced by persuasions, because they are entirely perverted. It has been shown by experience that they prefer to die rather than be converted. Of these men the end is destruction ; at the last the fire awaits them. Long ago the type of them was shown forth in the foxes to whose tails Samson applied the fire (Judg. xv. 4, 5). Often the faithful have laid hands on some of them, and brought them into public notice. When they have been questioned upon those points of their belief on which they were suspected, they, according to their custom, refused entirely to give any answer ; and when examined by the judgment of water, they have been found liars. But when they have been discovered, and were not able to make denial, nor received the 1 The ancients did not reject the proof by water, as is shown in a singular letter from Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, to Hildegar of Meaux. The method of performing this purgation is described in the Analecta, Bk. i. , where it is said to have been instituted by Pope Eugenius II. water at all ; then taking, as the saying is, the bit in their teeth, they were so unhappy as to profess openly their impiety, to maintain it as the true faith, and to declare that they were prepared to suffer death on its behalf. Nor were those who were present less prepared to inflict it. Therefore the people, rushing in upon them, made of them new martyrs to their unbelief. Their zeal we approve, but we do not advise the imitation of their action, because faith is to be produced by persuasion, not imposed by force. Although it would, without doubt, be better that they should be coerced by the sword of him ' who beareth not the sword in vain,' than that they should be allowed to draw away many other persons into their error.1

13. Some persons are astonished that they go to their death, not only patiently, but, as it seems, even with joy ; but such persons do not consider how great is the power of the devil, not only over the bodies, but also over the hearts of those whom, when once permitted, he has taken possession of. Is it not more astonishing still that a man should lay violent hands upon himself than that he should endure violence willingly from another person ? But we know by experience that the devil has frequently exerted that power, namely, over many whom he has caused to drown or to hang themselves. Thus Judas hanged himself ( Matt. xxvii. 5) doubtless by the instigation of the devil. Yet I find it still more strange, and a greater cause for wonder, that he should have been able to put it into the heart of Judas to betray his Lord (John xiii. 2) than that he should have caused him to hang himself. There is nothing resembling the constancy of the martyrs in the obstinacy of these men, because in the former it is piety, in the latter hardness of heart, that causes a contempt of death.2 Also the Psalmist has said, perhaps with the voice of a martyr : Their heart is curdledlike milk; but Ihave meditatedon Thy law (Ps. cxix. 70, Douay), to show that although the suffering seemed the same, yet the intention was very different ; for whilst the one was hardening his heart against the Lord, the other was meditating on His holy law.

14. This being the case, there is no need, as I have said, to say much against men who are foolish and obstinate in the extreme ; it suffices to take note of them that they may be avoided. Wherefore, that they may be discovered, they must be obliged either to send away the women, by retaining whom in their houses they give scandal to the Church, or to leave the Church. It is much to be lamented that not only secular princes, but also, as it is said, certain of the clergy, and even of the order of Bishops, whose special duty it is to seek them out, support them for the sake of gain, and for the presents which they receive from them. ' How,' say they, ' shall we condemn men who do not confess error, nor are convicted of it ?' That reason, or rather pretext, is frivolous. By this means alone, if there were no other, you will easily discover them ; if, as I have said, you separate the one from the other, obliging the women to live with those of their own sex who have taken the same vow as themselves, and the men to do likewise. In this way you will have consulted both the interest of their vow, and their reputation, in giving them both witnesses and guardians of their good behaviour. If they do not submit to this, they will most justly be expelled from the Church to which they give scandal. Let this suffice, then, for the discovery of the wiles of those foxes that they may be known and guarded against by the Church, which is the beloved and glorious Bride of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

HITHERTO we have had the words of the Bridegroom. May He now be present with us, and aid us worthily to expound the words of His bride, to His glory and to our salvation. For they are such as cannot be considered and discussed by us in a manner that is worthy of the subject unless He Himself shall be the guide of our words. For as they are sweet in the grace which they contain, so they are fruitful in senses and deep in mysteries. To what shall I liken them ? They are as food which surpasses all other by a threefold excellence ; delicious in taste, solid in nutriment, and efficacious as a remedy. It is thus with each word of the Bride. By the sweetness of its sound it charms the feelings ; by its richness in teaching it nourishes and fertilizes the mind; and by the depth of the mysteries it contains it exercises and awes the spirit, and at the same time remedies in a wonderful manner the pride and inflation caused by knowledge. For if any one of those who perhaps seem to themselves learned, wishing to penetrate into these things with too curious a scrutiny, finds the powers of his intellect overpowered and baffled, and brought, as it were, into captivity, will he not be humbled and obliged to take these words for his own : Such knowledge is too wonderful for me : it is high, Icannot attain unto it ? (Ps. cxxxix. 6) . And without going any farther, with what a marvel of sweetness is the beginning of this sentence filled ! For see what a declaration the Bride makes as a commencement : My Beloved, she says, is mine, and I am His. Simple words they are, but how sweetly they sound ! And this we shall treat of farther in the sequel.

2. She commences by love, and goes on to speak of Her Beloved, showing thus that she knows no other than He. It is clear of whom she speaks ; not so clear to whom she is speaking. For it is not permitted to us to suppose that He is present, or that she is conversing with Him. This appears plainly from her calling to Him immediately afterwards, as if He were at a distance, to return to her : Turn, my Beloved. From this we are drawn to believe that, after having brought to a close what He had been saying to her, He had again, according to His custom, absented Himself from her, and that she continues, nevertheless, speaking of Him, who is never absent from her mind. Thus, in fact it is ; and He continues to be upon her lips who did not depart, and never does depart, from her heart. That which is upon her lips comes forth from her heart, for of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh (Luke vi. 45). Therefore she speaks of her Beloved as one truly loved and truly deserving to be loved, inasmuch as she loves much. We know, then, of whom she speaks, but with whom we know not ; nor can I conjecture, unless it be with her maidens, who cannot be absent from their mother when the Bridegroom has departed. But we shall better suppose, as I think, that she is speaking to herself, not to any other person ; especially as her words seem abrupt and unconnected with what has been spoken before ; plainly insufficient to be intelligible to an auditor, which in a conversation is the object intended. My Beloved, she says, is mine, and I am His. Nothing more ? Then the discourse hangs suspended ; or, rather, it is not suspended, but falls. Anyone who listens is held in suspense ; he is not instructed, but is waiting to be so.

3. What, then, is the signification of her words : My Beloved is mine, and I am His ? We do not comprehend what she says, because we do not feel what she feels. O holy soul, what is thy Beloved to thee, and what art thou to Him ? What is, I pray thee, that mysterious gift which is reciprocally made each to the other, by Him and by thee, with so much kindness and familiarity ? For thee is He, and for Him thou art. But is He to thee that which thou art to Him, or does He stand in some other relation to thee ? If thou speakest for us, and for our understanding, speak forth clearly thy thought. How long dost thou hold our minds in suspense ? Or is thy secret to be, according to the saying of the Prophet, for thyself? (Is. xxiv. 16). It is thus: the affection has spoken, not the understanding, and therefore what is said is scarcely understood. For what end, then, is this spoken ? For no end at all, except it be that the Bride, having been vehemently affected, and filled with extreme joy and delight, by the long desired interview with her Beloved, when it has come to an end she is neither able to refrain altogether from speaking, nor yet, when she speaks, to express her feelings fully. Nor did she speak thus by way of expressing them, but in order not to be altogether silent. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, but not in proportion to its abundance. The affections have their own language, in which they express themselves, even against their will. For instance, fear has its timid words, grief its mournful, and love its joyful ones. Are the lamentations of those who are in trouble, the sobs and sighs of mourners, the sudden and ungovernable screams and cries of those who are frightened or stricken, or even the yawns of the satisfied and sleepy, are these either caused by habit, aroused by reason, ordered by reflection, or shaped by premeditation? It is certain that all such expressions of feeling are not the products of a deliberate purpose, but are caused by sudden and unforeseen impulse. Thus burning and vehement love, especially that towards God, not being able to restrain itself, takes no heed of the order nor connection of the words it employs, nor even of their fewness, provided that it suffers no diminution of its vigour. Sometimes it does not seek for words, not even for articulate language at all, but is content with the wordless aspirations of the spirit alone. Thus it is that the Bride, burning inconceivably with holy love, seeks some relief and solace in the ardour which she endures, and in seeking it takes no heed of how she speaks, but, urged on by her love, bursts forth with the first words which come into her mouth. And what should she speak, except that with which her heart is so filled ?

4. Recall to your mind the wording of this marriage song, from its beginning to this point, and see if, in the interviews and conversations of the Bridegroom with the Bride, He has ever addressed her with the same indulgent kindness as here, or ever held so many or so cheering discourses with her. What wonder, then, when her wishes have been satisfied to the full, that a burst of joy should come from her, rather than words ? Or if she makes use of words, that they should burst forth without premeditation or studied completeness ? For the Bride judges it not robbery to apply to herself the words of the Psalmist : My heart hath uttered a good word ( Ps. xlv. 1) , since it is with the same Spirit that she is filled. My Beloved is mine, and Iam His. There is no prayer in the saying, and there is no conclusion drawn from it. What then ? it is an outburst of feeling. In such an utterance what connection of sentiments, what solemnity of phrases do you seek ? What laws or rules do you impose upon your own ? It does not admit of your control, it does not wait for your careful and exact expression, it does not submit to your time, nor consult your convenience at all. It bursts forth of its own accord from within, without your will and even without your knowledge, forcibly rather than by choice. And it yields sometimes a good odour, sometimes a bad, according to the different qualities of the natures whence it arises. For a good man out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things; and an evil man evil things (Matt. xii. 35) . The Bride of my Lord is a vase of good treasure, and sweet is the odour which comes from her.

5. I give thanks to Thee, O Lord Jesus, that Thou hast deigned to admit me at least to perceive that odour so sweet. Yea, Lord, so let me be admitted, even as the dogs, though of such small account, are allowed to eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table (Matt. xv. 27). This utterance of the feelings of Thy beloved is to me, I confess it, very agreeable ; and of her fulness I receive, however little it be, with gratitude. The memorial of Thy abounding sweetness arises in me, and I am suffused with I know not what ineffable perfume of Thy love and condescension, so to speak, in those few words of hers : My Beloved is mine, and I am His. Let her, as it is fitting, eat and drink in Thy Presence, and rejoice exceedingly at the sight of Thee ; yea, let her be transported out of herself for Thy sake, that for our sakes she may have full selfpossession. Let her, then, be abundantly satisfied with the good things of Thyhouse, and let her drink of the river of Thy pleasures ; but let there be for me, Thy poor servant, I entreat, at least a slight odour of those good things, breathed forth from the bosom of her fulness. The thought of Moses was uttered to my benefit, and from his words I gather the sweetness and greatness of the idea of creative power : In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth (Gen. i. 1). Isaiah also exhales the most sweet odour of mercy and redemption when he thus speaks : He hath poured out His Soul unto death, and He was numbered with the transgressors ; and He bare the sin ofmany, and made intercession for the transgressors (Is. liii. 12 ), that they should not perish. And what odour equals in sweetness that of mercy ? Good also is the utterance from the mouth of Jeremiah ; and from that of David, when he said : My heart is inditing a good matter (Ps. xlv. 1 ). They were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and by their utterance replenished all things with His goodness. Do you ask for the utterance of Jeremiah ? I have not forgotten it, I was preparing to give it to you. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord (Lam. iii. 26) . That is his, I do not mistake ; inhale its sweetness, the fragrance it brings of Him who recompenses righteousness, which excels the most exquisite perfume. He wills me, if I suffer for righteousness' sake, to await a recompense hereafter, and that I should not receive one at present, because the salutary wages of righteousness is from the Lord, not from the world. If it tarry, says the Prophet, wait for it (Hab. ii. 3) . Therefore I will do what he exhorts me ; I will wait for the Lord my Saviour.

6. But I am a sinner, and a long road still is before me to traverse, because salvation is far from sinners. Yet I will not murmur, and in the meantime I shall be consoled by the fragrance of it. The righteous shall rejoice in the Lord, having tasted and known that of which I perceive the fragrance afar off. That which the righteous has in full view, he who is a sinner expects and waits for, and it is 1 Odore. Horst adds vel dolore ; but this is wanting in the MSS. and earliest editions. that expectation which I call the fragrance of it. For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God ( Rom. viii. 19). To behold, is to taste and see how sweet the Lord is. Or is it rather the righteous who expects this, and the blessed who possesses it ? For the hope of the righteous shall be gladness (Prov. x. 28). But the sinner has nothing to hope for. And, therefore, the sinner, not only because he is attached to the good things of the present time, but also because he is content with them, hopes for nothing from the future, and is deaf to that precept of the Lord : Expect Me in the day of My Resurrection that is to come (Zeph. iii. 8, Douay). Simeon was righteous because he waited for and already presaged Christ in the spirit, when as yet he did not as yet adore Him in the flesh. And in his expectation he was blessed, because through the odour of expectation he attained to taste, that is, to the beholding Him. For he says : Mine eyes have beheld Thy salvation ( Luke ii . 25). Righteous also was Abraham, who desired and expected to see the day of the Lord ; nor was he confounded in this hope, for he saw it, and was glad (John viii. 56). The Apostles, too, were righteous, for to them it was said : Ye yourselves [are] like unto men that waitfor their Lord (Luke xii. 36).

7. Was not David righteous also when he said : Iwaited patiently for the Lord? (Ps. xl. 1) . He is the fourth of those of whom I have said that they had longed for the Lord with all their heart (Ps. cxix. 131), whom I had almost passed over ; but it is not advisable so to do. He opened his mouth and panted; then, when filled [with the consolations of the Lord], he not only poured out his heart in thankfulness, but sang for joy. O good Lord Jesus, how great is the fragrance and the sweetness which he has caused me to feel and experience in those utterances and songs, filled with that oil of gladness with which God, Thy God, hath anointed Thee above Thy fellows, from that myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces wherewith Thy garments are fragrant, because the daughters of kings have perfumed them in Thy honour and for Thy delight ! ( Ps. xlv. 8-10). O that Thou wouldest honour me so far as that I might meet that great prophet, Thy friend, in that day of solemn gladness, when he shall come forth from Thy chamber, singing his sacred marriagehymn with the psaltery and joyful harp, overwhelmed with delights, steeped in perfumes of a sweetness beyond words, and diffusing them on every side! In that day, I have said, but rather in that hour; and perhaps it is not even an hour, but in that half-hour, according to that saying of the Scripture : There was silence in Heaven about the space ofhalf an hour (Rev. viii. 1 ) ; therefore in that hour my mouth will be filled with gladness and my tongue with joy, when I shall feel the fragrance, I do not say of each Psalm, but of each verse of every Psalm, a fragrance far exceeding that of the most precious perfumes . What can be more fragrant than the utterances of St. John, who brings to me the solemn sweetness of the Eternal Generation and Divinity of the Word ? What can I say of those of St. Paul, which have filled the world with the odour of their great sweetness ? In truth, the sweet savour of the knowledge of Christ was made manifest by them in every place ( 2 Cor. ii. 14, 15). And although the unspeakable words which he had heard he does not offer for me to listen to, he offers them for me to desire ; and it is permitted to discern their fragrance, though to utter them is not lawful ( 2 Cor. xii. 4) . I know not how it is, that those which are the most deeply hidden have the greatest charm, and that we sigh most eagerly for those which are denied to us . But now notice a similar fact with regard to the Bride, namely, how in the passage before us she, like St. Paul, does not wholly reveal her secret, and yet does not pass it over wholly unmentioned, as if she wishes to gratify us with somewhat of the fragrance of that treasure which she judges it not advisable as yet to lay open to our touch and taste, whether on account of our unworthiness or on account of our incapacity.

8. My Beloved is mine, and I am His. There can be no doubt that in this passage is apparent the flame of an ardent and reciprocal love of two persons, one for the other ; while in this love appears also the supreme felicity of the one and the marvellous condescension of the other. For it is not an attachment and union between two persons who are of equal condition. Now, who could venture to lay claim to the full knowledge of what [the Church] glories in having received in this prerogative of love, and in having repaid it in turn by an affection so great, if not she, who by her eminent purity and holiness of body and of mind, has been found worthy to have experience in her own self of a fortune so exalted ? It is in the sphere of the affections that this takes place, nor is it attained to by the reason, but by conformity of spirit. But how few there are who are enabled to say : We all with open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord ( 2 Cor. iii. 18).

9. But that what we read here may be brought in some degree under the grasp of the intellect I leave to the Bride her unique secret, to which it is not permitted to us to draw near, especially while we are so imperfect ; and I propose to you something at once more easily understood, and of a more ordinary character, so that those who are as children in understanding may be able to grasp the sense and the relation of the words used by the Bride. To me, then, it seems that it will suffice for our dense and, as it were, popular apprehension if in saying My Beloved is mine we understand ' gives His thought and attention, ' so that the sense will be : ' My Beloved gives His thought and attention to me, and I to Him.' Nor am I. the first or the only one to suggest this sense, for the Psalmist has said before me : I waitedpatiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me and heard my cry (Ps. xl. 1). You see here that the Lord gave attention to the Psalmist ; you see also the patient waiting of the Psalmist for the Lord. For he who waits gives attention to him for whom he waits. The sense, then, of the Psalmist's words is the same as of those of the Bride, nor are the words far different, only in the former they are used in another order ; for he sets first that which she sets last, and conversely. .

10. But in this the Bride has spoken more accurately, inasmuch as she does not put forward any merit of her own, butbegins with the benefit she has received, and thus acknowledges that she has been prevented by the grace of her Beloved. She has well done in expressing herself thus. For who hath first given to Him and it shall be recompensed unto him again ? (Rom. xi. 35). Hear also what St. John thought on this subject. Herein is love, he says in his Epistle, not that we loved God, but that He loved us ( 1 John iv. 10 Though the Psalmist has not spoken of preventing grace, he has not denied, or been silent upon, following grace. But listen to his declaration upon that point in plainer terms in another place : Thy mercy ( he was speaking to the Lord) willfollow me all the days of my life ( Ps. xxiii. 6, Douay). Hear also his declaration as to preventing grace ; it is no less plain and unmistakable : My God, His mercy shall prevent me (Ps. lix. 10, Douay) ; and again to the Lord : Let Thy tender mercies speedily prevent us, for we are brought very low (Ps. lxxix. 8). It is with much beauty that the Bride a little farther on (if I do not mistake) uses again the same words, but not placing them in the same order ; for she follows the order of the Psalmist, and speaks thus : Iam my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine (Cant. vi. 3). Why does she express herself thus ? It is to show that she is more full of graces when she attributes all to grace, and ascribes to the Lord the beginning and the end of them all. Otherwise, how could she be full of grace if there were in her anything which was not of grace ? There is no room for grace to enter where merit has already taken its place. That full acknowledgment, then, of grace is itself a mark of the fulness of grace in her who makes it. For if there were in her anything which came from the soul as from itself, to whatever extent that existed, it must of necessity take the place of grace. Whatsoever you impute to merit you take away from grace. I will not have merit, because it excludes grace. I shrink from all that is of me that I may be my own : unless, perhaps, that is especially mine which makes me to be my own. Grace restores me to myself freely justified, and thus delivered from the slavery of sin. For where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty ( 2 Cor. iii. 17).

11. O Synagogue, Bride insensate, which, despising the righteousness of God that is, the grace of thy Bridegroom-and desiring to set up a righteousness of thy own, hast not submitted thyself to the righteousness of God ! For this reason that unhappy one was repudiated, and is now no longer the Bride ; which title belongs to the Church, to whom it is said : I will betroth thee unto Me in 1 St. Bernard refers here to merit which does not come from grace, but which takes place above it and excludes it. Compare Sermon LXVIII. , n. 6, and in S. Augustine, Ep. 105 ; ' Of Grace and Free Will,' cc. 6-8 ; ' Confessions, ' Bk. ix. , c. 13 ; Enchiridion, c. 107, etc. righteousness, and in judgment, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies ; Iwill even betroth thee unto Me infaithfulness (Hos. ii. 19, 20) . Nor hast thou chosen Me, but I have chosen thee ; nor have I found merits in thee for the reason of My choice, but have foreseen thy merits. It is, then, in faith that I have betrothed thee, not in the works of the Law ; in faith, and in the righteousness which is by faith, not by the law. It remains that thou shouldest form a right judgment between Me and thee, the judgment in which I have betrothed thee ; and recognise that I have done this, not because of thy merits, but purely of My goodness. This, then, is the judgment, that thou shouldest not extol thy own merits, nor prefer the works of the Law, nor boast that thou hast borne the burden and heat of the day; knowing that thou hast been betrothed in faith and the righteousness which is of faith ; in mercies and in lovingkindness.

12. She, then, who is truly the Bride recognises these things, and confesses that she has received each kind of grace ; that which is first, and is preventing grace; and that also which comes afterwards, to follow and to render perfect. Therefore she says now, My Beloved is mine, and I am His, attributing the beginning of the work of grace to her Beloved. But afterwards she says also : I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine ; and thus attributes to Him the ending and consummation of it also. Let us now see, then, what is the meaning of those words she speaks, My Beloved is mine. If we are to understand with them ' gives attention to,' as I have already suggested, and as the Psalmist says, Iwaited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me, I find that the words contain somewhat of no small interest and importance. But it is a subject worthy of our closest attention, and not to be entered upon to wearied ears and minds. If you please, it shall be deferred for a little while, and the sermon of to-morrow shall be commenced with it. Only let me ask you to pray, in the meantime, that I may be preserved from the encroachments of pressing cares, by the grace and mercy of Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

HEAR now what I reserved from yesterday to say to you ; hear the great joy which I have felt. And this joy is yours ; hear it, therefore, and rejoice. I have felt it in one word of the Bride, and, after having been, as it were, perfumed with it, I have laid it by with care to share it with you to-day ; and that so much the more gladly as the time seems appropriate for so doing. The Bride, then, has spoken, and has said that the Bridegroom inclines unto her. Who, then, is the Bride, and who is the Bridegroom ? The Bridegroom is our God; and, if I venture to say so, it is we who are the Bride, with the rest of that multitude of captives whom He knows. Let us rejoice, for this is our glory ; we are among those to whom God gives attention. Yet how great is the disparity between Him and us ! What are the children of men, the earth-born, before Him ? According to the Prophet, All nations before Him are as nothing ; and they are counted to Him less than nothing, and vanity (Is. xl. 17). What object, then, can there be in a comparison between persons so unequal ? Either the one glorifies herself without measure, or the other loves without measure. Is it not a wonderful thing that she should thus claim as her own the attention and interest of her Bridegroom, and say, My Beloved is mine ? Nor is she content even with this ; she goes on to glorify herself still farther ; she replies to Him as equal to equal, and gives assurance to Him in her turn. For she goes on to say, And Iam His. An unexampled speech indeed : Iam His. Nor is the other assertion less unexampled : My Beloved is mine. But the association of the two is still more wonderful than either of them separately.

2. What does not a pure heart, a good conscience, and a faith unfeigned, venture ? ' To me, ' she says, ' He gives attention. ' Is it possible that a Majesty so great, upon which rests the government and administration of the universe, deigns to give attention to her, and that the Eternal God occupies Himself with the affairs, or, rather, the repose, of the affection and the aspirations of the Bride alone ? It is evidently so. For she is the Church of the elect, of whom the Apostle says : Iendure allthings for the elect's sakes ( 2 Tim. ii. 10 ; see also 1 Cor. iii. 21). And who can doubt that ' the grace and mercy of God is with His Saints, and that He hath respect unto His chosen ' ( Wisd. iv. 15) ? We do not, then, deny the providence of God over His other creatures ; but the Bride claims for herself His especial care and regard. Doth Godtake care for oxen ? ( 1 Cor. ix. 9) . And there is no doubt that the same question may be asked with respect to horses, and to camels, to elephants, and to all the beasts of the earth ; and similarly to the fishes of the sea, and the winged denizens of the air ; in short, to everything that is upon the earth, with the sole exception of those beings about whom that declaration was made : Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you ( 1 Pet. v. 10) . Does it not seem to you that this is as if the Apostle had said : ' Give attention unto Him, for He attends to you, and has an interest in you ' ? And notice that the Apostle Peter (for it is he who speaks) observes in his words the same order as does the Bride. For he does not say, Casting all your care upon Him, ' in order that 1 Thus all the MSS. Horst adds : ' testimonium conscientiæ nostra,' words which do not harmonize with the rest of the passage. He may care for you, but ' because He careth for you ' ; and thereby he plainly shows that the Church of the Saints is not only beloved by God, but was beloved by Him before it had any love for Him at all .

3. It is quite evident that what the Apostle has said with regard to oxen has no reference whatever to the Church, since He who loved her, and gave Himself for her, cannot be said to be without care for her. Is not she that lost sheep in the parable, of which the care took precedence of even that for His flock in heaven ? For the Pastor left those other sheep in the wilderness, and came down to earth to care for her ; he sought for her diligently, nor when she was found did he even lead her back, but bore her back upon His shoulders ; then there was instituted in Heaven a new festival of rejoicings with her and for her, and the peoples of the Angels were invited to the solemnity ( Luke xv. 4-7, 10). What then ? shall it be said that He has no care for her whom He deigned to carry back upon His own shoulders ? She is not, then, deceived when she says : The Lord thinketh upon me (Ps. xl. 17) ; nor does she mistake when she says also : The Lord will repayfor me ( Ps. cxxxviii. 8, Douay), and makes any other assertion which marks the care which the Lord has for her. It is for that reason that she calls the Lord of Sabaoth her Beloved, and boasts that He who judges all things with tranquillity (Wisd. xii. 18, Vulg. ) gives attention to her. Why should she not boast of this, since she has heard Him saying unto her : Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee (Is. xlix. 15) . Again, the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous ( Ps. xxxiv. 15) ; and what is the Bride, but the assembly of the righteous ? What is she, but the generation of them that seek the Lord, who desire to behold the Face of the Bridegroom ? For He does not give attention unto her without her rendering, in her turn, attention and devotion unto Him. Wherefore she expresses each of these truths, when she says : My Beloved is mine, and I am His. He is mine, because He is good and merciful ; I am His, because I am not ungrateful. He bestows upon me grace from grace, and I render unto Him thanks (gratiam) for His grace ; He has care for my deliverance, and I for His honour ; He for my salvation, and I for obedience to His will. He has care for me and for no other, because I am His one dove, His undefiled, and I have care for Him and for no other ; nor do I give ear to the voice of strangers, nor listen to those who say : Lo, here is Christ; or, lo, He is there ( Mark xiii. 21). It is the Church that speaks thus.

4. But what shall we say of each of us individually ? Are we to think that there is anyone among us to whom what is said by the Bride is capable of being applied ? Anyone, do I say, among us ? I should think that there is no one at all among the faithful members of the Church with respect to whom it may not justly be inquired whether the Bride's mystical saying is not realized in some degree in him. But between a single soul and the mass of souls there is a difference of method. It was not on account of one soul alone that God [the Son] has done and suffered so many things when He performed and accomplished upon the earth the work of our salvation, but on account of a great number of souls which He would unite into one Church, and which would form one only Bride. Each to the other is the dearest of all ; she clings to no other Spouse, nor does He give Himself to any other Bride. What may she not expect from a lover who took upon Him an enterprise so great ? What may she not hope for from Him who descended from heaven to seek her ? Nor has He only sought her, but has found and made her His own with a great price, that is to say, the Blood of the purchaser. Besides, she relies so much the more upon the favour shown to her, inasmuch as, looking onward to the future, she is not ignorant that the Lord hath need of her. To what end do you inquire ? It is, says the Psalmist, ' to see the good of His chosen, to rejoice in the gladness of His nation, to glory with His inheritance ' ( Ps. cvi. 5) . You will not think that this is a matter of small importance ; nay, I say to you that all His works will remain imperfect, if this fail of being attained. Does not the end of all things depend on the state and consummation of the Church? If you take away this, it is in vain that the lower creation awaits the manifestation of the sons of God. If you take away this neither the Patriarchs nor the Prophets will reach their state of perfection, since St. Paul asserts that God has so provided for us that they without us should not be made perfect (Heb. xi. 40). If you take away this, the glory of even the holy Angels will be imperfect by the incompleteness of their number, nor will the City of God rejoice in the integrity of all its parts .

5. Whence, then, shall the design of God be fulfilled, and that great mystery of His mercy be accomplished ? Whence shall be given to me those babes and sucklings, out of whose mouth God's praise is perfected ? (Ps. viii. 2). Not Heaven, but the Church, has those babes in Christ, to whom the Apostle says, Ihavefedyou with milk, and not with meat ( 1 Cor. iii. 2). And these are invited by the Psalmist to fill up, as it were, the praises of the Lord, saying, Praise the Lord, ye children (Ps. cxiii. 1 , Douay). Do you think that our God will receive all the praise which is due to His glory, until the coming of those who shall sing on their own behalf in the presence of the Angels, We have rejoiced for the days in which Thou hast humbled us, for the years in which we have seen evils ( Ps. xc. 15, Douay) ? This kind of rejoicing the heavens have not known, except through the children of the Church. No one who has never known what it is not to rejoice ever rejoices after this fashion. Great is joy when it succeeds to sorrow, welcome is quiet after labour, the safe harbour after the shipwreck. Security is pleasing to everyone, but most of all to him who has been in fear of danger. Light is agreeable to all, but of especial sweetness to him who is escaping from the power of darkness. To have passed from death unto life doubles the charm of life. This it is that shall be the peculiar zest to me in the banquet of heaven, and it will be distinct from that of the heavenly spirits themselves. I venture to assert that the blessed life of heaven itself is without this special blessedness which is mine, unless those whose is that blessed life deign to say that they enjoy it by their charity in me and through me. It seems, in truth, that something is added to the perfection of their joy from me, nor is this addition a small one ; for the Angels rejoice at the repentance of a sinner. And if my tears of penitence are to the Angels a source of joy, what must my perfect happiness be to them ? Every work of theirs has for its object the praise of God ; but there is something wanting to His praise, if there is no one to say, We went through fire and through water, but Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place (Ps. lxvi. 12) . ...

6. The whole state of the Church, then, is happy and blessed, and the thanksgiving and glory which she renders to God is altogether below that which she owes to Him, not only for those benefits which she has already received from His goodness, but for those also which she has still to receive from it. For why should she be anxious with respect to her merits, to whom a stronger and more secure reason for glorying is supplied, in the purpose of God respecting her ? God cannot deny Himself, nor does He undo that which He has done ; as it is written, Who declares .. from ancient times the things that are not yet done ( Is. xlvi . 10). He will do them, without doubt ; He will do them, nor will He be wanting to His purpose. Thus you ought not now to inquire on what merits we rest the hope of good things, especially when you bear in mind the words of the Prophet : Thus saith the Lord God, I do not this for your sakes butfor Mine Holy Name's sake (Ezek. xxxvi. 22). For merit, it suffices to know that our merits are not sufficient ; but as it is enough for merit not to presume on merits of one's own, so it is enough for condemnation to be wholly without merits. Even infants, when regenerated in Baptism, are not wholly wanting in merits, but have the merits of Christ, of which, nevertheless, they render themselves unworthy, if, not through inability, but hrough neglect, they join to them no merits of their own ; and this is, indeed, the peril of those who have reached the age of discretion. Make it, then, your care to have merits, but, having them, know that they have been given to you ; hope for the fruit of them from the mercy of God, and you will escape every danger, whether of poverty, of ingratitude, or of presumption. A total want of merits is an injurious poverty, but a mistaken belief in one's wealth of merits is spiritual presumption. And therefore a wise man saith : Give me neither poverty nor riches (Prov. xxx. 8) . Happy is the Church to whom neither merits are wanting without presuming, nor presumption without merits. She has ground for presumption, but not upon her merits ; and she has merits, but for deserving, not for presuming ; and, indeed, not to presume upon anything in herself, is not that very thing to deserve to presume upon her faith ? Therefore she presumes the more securely [upon the merits of Christ] that she does not presume [upon her own] ; and she has no cause to fear being confounded in that on which she glories, since she has so much ground for glorying ; for the mercies of the Lord are many, and His truth endureth for ever.

7. Why should not [the Church] securely glory, since mercy and truth are met together (Ps. lxxxv. 11) for a testimony of her glory ? Whether, therefore, she says, My Beloved is mine ; or, I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me ; or, The Lord thinketh upon me ( Ps. xl. 1 , 17) ; or uses other words of a similar kind which appear to express a degree of affection and singular favour with which she is regarded by God, she is enabled to claim all this without fear, since it is the Lord Himself who has given to her the ground for her confident assurance, especially as she sees no other Bride, no other Church, in whom those [prophecies], which must necessarily be fulfilled, can find their fulfilment. It is, then, clear that the Church need have no fear to appropriate to herself all these promises. But it is inquired whether it be permissible, also, for an individual soul, however holy and spiritual it be, to venture to attribute them in the same way to itself ; for one single soul, however eminent in sanctity it may be, cannot be thought competent to attribute to itself all the prerogatives of that great multitude, faithful and Catholic, on whose account they were instituted. And therefore it would be the more difficult, as I consider, to find a soul (if, indeed, one such could be found) to whom this could be permitted. We will, however, essay this task, but in another discourse ; because we do not wish to enter upon the paths of a discussion so intricate, and of which the issue is at present doubtful to us, before we have, in order to obtain the knowledge of that hidden word, lifted up our heart in prayer to Him who ' openeth and no man shutteth ' (Rev. iii . 7) , to Him who is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

In the preceding sermon these words were said to be an utterance of the Church universal, occasioned by the promises made to her by God, as well for the life which now is as for that which is to come. The question proposed is whether a single soul can appropriate to itself, in a certain manner, those promises which 1 are made to the whole community of souls. If it may not do so, then it behoves us to refer these words to the Church in such a way that they may not apply to the individual ; and not these only, but all utterances of a similar kind in which great truths are expressed ; as, for example, I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me ( Ps. xl. 1 ), and any others touched upon in the former sermon. If, on the contrary, anyone thinks that the individual soul is permitted to claim these promises, I do not contest that opinion ; but it is needful to ascertain to whom that claim is permitted, for it is manifestly not open to all indiscriminately to do so. The Church of God has, without doubt, her spiritual men who serve God within her pale, not only faithfully, but also with confidence, who speak with God as with a friend, and whose conscience renders to them an approving testimony. But who are these ? That is known only to God. Do you, nevertheless, hear what manner of men you ought to be if you wish to be of that number. Though I say this, I do so not as having had experience of this, but as one who desires to have it . Give me a soul which loves God, and Him only, and which deserves to be loved for His sake, to which to live is Christ, and not only so, but with which this has long been the case ; which, whether in action or in repose, has God always before its eyes, and desires, with anxious care, to walk with Him at all times, to be of one mind with Him, and which is enabled so to be ; give me, I say, a soul like this, and I do not deny that it is worthy of the care of the Bridegroom, of the regard of His Majesty, of the favour of the Sovereign, of the attention of the Ruler of all the earth, and if it desires to glorify itself it can do so without folly, provided it is mindful that ' whosoever glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.' In this manner one individual soul may venture to appropriate that which belongs only to many, but for a distinct reason.

2. For the causes which we have enumerated above give confidence to a holy and believing multitude, but there are two principal ones which give it to a holy soul separately. In the first place, the Divinity of the Bridegroom, being by nature wholly simple, is able to regard many persons as one, and one person as if many, without being divided by their diversity in the one case, or restricted by the singularity in the other ; it is neither agitated by cares, nor troubled by disquietudes. Thus, though it be wholly occupied by one object, it is not absorbed by that object ; nor, if occupied by many, is it spread over them. Secondly, which it is as sweet as it is remarkable to have experience of, so great is the condescension of the Word, so great is the benevolence of the Father and of the Word towards the soul well affected and well regulated (which is indeed the gift of the Father and the work of the Son) that they deign to honour it with their presence, and in such a measure that they not only come to it, but make their abode with it (John xiv. 23). For it is not enough that they come to it, unless they also bestow upon it their fulness. What is it for the Word to come to the soul? It is to instruct it in wisdom. And what for the Father to come ? It is to touch it with the love of wisdom, so that it may be able to say : I was a lover of her beauty ( Wisd. viii . 2). To love is of the Father, and therefore the coming of the Father is declared by the infusion of love. What would be the effect of knowledge without love ? It would produce pride. And what of love without knowledge ? It would be the cause of error. In fact, they were in error of whom St. Paul said : Ibear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge (Rom. x. 2). It is not becoming for the Bride of the Word to be ignorant, and, on the other hand, the Father does not suffer her to be proud. For the Father loves the Son, and is always swift to cast down and destroy that which exalts itself against the knowledge of the Word, whether by moderating or by sharpening zeal, whereof the one is the effect of mercy, the other of justice. May He cast down, or, rather, destroy and reduce to nothingness, every rising of pride in me ; and may He do this not by the fire of His anger, but by the gentie flowing of His love ! May I be enabled to learn not to indulge in pride, yet to learn this not by the lessons of vengeance, but by the unction of grace ! O Lord, rebuke me not in Thine anger, as [ Thou didst rebuke] the Angel who exalted himself in Heaven, neither chasten me in Thy hot displeasure ( Ps. vi. 1 ) as Thou didst man who offended in Paradise. Both of these meditated iniquity in seeking to exalt themselves, the one by power, the other by knowledge. For the woman foolishly believed the voice of the tempter when he promised : Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil ( Gen. iii. 5). He had at an earlier period seduced himself, when he had persuaded himself that he should become like unto the Most High. For he who thinks himself to be something when he is nothing deceives himself (Gal. vi. 3).

3. But both one and the other of these eminences was cast down ; but more gently in the case of man, according to the just judgment of Him who doeth all things in weight and in measure. For it was in fierce anger that the Angels were punished, or, rather, were condemned; but it was only a milder degree of displeasure that was felt byman. For in the midst of His wrath God remembered mercy. Wherefore the children of men are called to this day ' children of wrath, ' but not ' of fierce anger. ' If I were not born in the former state, I should not need a New Birth through Baptisnı ; but if I were born in the latter state, either a New Birth would be unattainable to me or would profit me nothing if attained. Would you behold a child of fierce anger ? If you have seen Satan as lightning fall from heaven, ' that is to say, precipitated thence by the vehemence of the fierce anger of God, then you have learned what that anger is. Then He is not mindful of His mercy, for in His wrath He will indeed remember mercy ; but it is not so when His fierce wrath burns as fire. Woe to the children of unbelief ! to those, I mean, who, being descendants of Adam, have been born children of wrath, and have changed that wrath into fierce anger against themselves by their diabolic obstinacy ; the rod into a club, yea, rather into the hammer of destruction. For they treasure up unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath ( Rom. ii. 5). Wrath treasured up, what is it but fierce anger ? They have committed the sin of the devil, and are stricken with the same judgment as he. Woe also, though in a less terrible degree, to those who, having been born children of wrath, have not awaited the obtaining of the New Birth by grace. For having died in the same state in which they were born, children of wrath they shall remain. I say ' of wrath,' not ' of fierce anger, ' because it is most piously believed, and the hopes and sympathies of humanity lead us to expect, that their penalties are of a far milder kind, since the infection of nature in then comes wholly from others.

4. Therefore the devil has been judged in the fierce anger of God, because his iniquity was found hateful ; while that of man has been judged but in anger, and in anger is corrected. Thus every kind of exaltation is repressed, as is also that which makes proud and leads to a headlong fall ; for the Father is animated by zeal on behalf of the Son. For in both the one case and the other there is an injury to the Son, or rather there is [either] a usurpation of power against the Might of God, which is Himself, or a presumption of knowledge against the Wisdom of God, which also is no other than God Himself. O Lord, who is like unto Thee ; who, except the Brightness of Thy Essential Being, the express Image of Thy Person ? He alone is in Thy Likeness ; He alone being Son of the Most High, and Himself Most High, thought it not robbery to be equal unto Thee ( Phil. ii. 6). How can He be otherwise than equal to Thee, since Thou and He are one ? His seat is on Thy Right Hand, not under Thy Feet. How can anyone be found so daring and so rash as to attempt to usurp the place of Thy Only Begotten Son ? Let him be cast down. He sets a seat for himself on high ; let the noxious chair of evil be overturned. Who is it that teacheth man knowledge ? Is it not Thou, O Key of David, who openest and shuttest to whom Thou wilt ? How, then, could the attempt be made without the Key to enter, or rather to gain access by violence to the treasures of wisdom and knowledge ? For he who entereth not by the door, the same is a thief and a robber ( John x. 1 ). Peter, then, will enter, who has received the keys ; nor will he enter alone, for he shall admit me if he will; and if he will, shall shut out some other person, according to the knowledge and the power which has been conferred upon him.

5. And what are these keys ? They signify the power of opening and shutting, and of distinguishing between those who should be admitted and those who should be excluded. These treasures are not in the serpent, but in Christ. And therefore the serpent was not able 1 This is also the teaching of St. Augustine, who writes that children who die without baptism shall be in a state of condemnation which is the mildest of all. ' -De Peccatorum Meritis, c. 16 ; also in Contra Julianum, Bk. v. , c. 12 ; also Fulgentius de Veritate Prædestinationis, Bk. i. , c. 14 ; and De Incarnatione, c. 30. to bestow the knowledge which he did not possess, but He who did possess it bestowed it. Nor could he have a power which he had not received, but he had it who had received it. Jesus Christ bestowed it (Matt. xvi. 19) ; Peter received it. He was not rendered proud by his knowledge, nor is he therefore to be cast down from the power he has received. Wherefore ? Because he in neither of these ways exalted himself against the knowledge of God, who laid claim to none of these powers beyond the knowledge of God, as did he who flattered himself in his own sight until his iniquity was found to be hateful (Ps. xxxvi. 2). How, indeed, should he have desired anything beyond the knowledge of God, who described himself as an Apostle of Jesus Christ, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father ? ( 1 Peter i. 1, 2). And these things were said in respect of the zeal of God directed against the evil-doers, whether angel or man (for in both he finds perverseness), insomuch that He has destroyed in His wrath and fierce anger everything that exalts itself against the knowledge of God.

6. It is now needful to return to the zeal of mercy, that is, the zeal which is not inflamed against us, but is sent forth towards us ; for the flame of zeal is, as we have already said, that of judgment, and has given us sufficient cause for fear in the examples which have been adduced of those so terribly punished. It is for that reason that I shall retire to a place of refuge from the face of the fierce anger of the Lord, namely, to that zeal of kindness which burns with sweet and efficacious expiation. Does not charity atone for sins ? It does, and with power. I have read that it covers the multitude of sins ( 1 Peter iv. 8) . But I ask : Is it not suitable also and sufficient to cast down and humble every exaltation of the eyes and of the heart ? Assuredly, for it vaunteth not itself, and is not puffed up. If, then, the Lord Jesus deigns to come to me, or rather in me, not in the zeal of His fierce anger, nor even in wrath, but in love and in a spirit of gentle kindness, striving with me with a godly jealousy : since what is there that is so emphatically of God as charity ? For that is indeed God. If, I say, He comes thus, then I know by that sign that He is not alone, but that with Him has come His Father also. For what is so Fatherly as this ? And it is for this very reason that He is called, not only the Father of the Word, but also the Father of mercies (2 Cor. i. 3) , because to Him it belongeth always to have pity and to spare. If I have ever felt that He has opened my understanding that I might understand the Scriptures ( Luke xxiv. 45), either that I might be able to pour forth in preaching, as it were, from my inmost heart the wisdom which is from above, or that a deeper insight into Divine mysteries might be given me through an influx of light from heaven, or that the heavens themselves seemed to be spread over my soul and to let fall upon it the fruitful showers of meditation, then at such times it is not doubtful to me that the Bridegroom is present with me. For these rich gifts come to us from the Word, and of His fulness do we all receive these precious things. If, again, I am per vaded by a feeling of devotion humble and devout, but zealous and inspiring, if love of the truth, penetrating to my inmost being, produces in me a scorn and hatred of vanity, so that neither the increase of knowledge renders me proud nor the frequency of [the Divine] visitations exalts me, then I straightway feel that this is the effect of Paternal tenderness, and I do not doubt that the Father is with me. But if I shall have continued to persevere, as far as in me is, in sentiments and actions worthy of so great a Divine condescension, and the grace of God which was in me was not in vain, then I am assured that the FATHER and the Word have taken up their abode in me ; the One to nourish my soul, the Other to instruct it.

7. What a close and intimate relation this grace produces between the Divine Word and the soul, and what confidence follows from that intimacy, you may well imagine. I believe that a soul in such a condition may say without fear : My Beloved is mine; inasmuch as it is conscious that it loves God with a true and even a vehement affection, and therefore concludes that it is beloved in no less a degree by Him; and by the singular devotion, the care, the labour, the diligence, the earnestness wherewith it is animated in the incessant and ardent effort to find means to please God, which it readily, and without question, recognises in itself, it recalls the Lord's promise : With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again ( Matt. vii. 2) . It is true that the Bride is prudent, and prefers to take for her part a deep thankfulness for grace bestowed, because she knows that her Beloved has prevented her in the bestowal of affection. It is for that she sets His Name first : My Beloved is mine, and I am His. From the attributes, then, which belong to God, she justly and confidently infers that by Him whom she loves, she is herself beloved. This is, in fact, the case. The love of God for the soul produces the love of the soul for God ; the direction of the Divine thought upon a soul causes that soul to direct itself towards God, and His care and solicitude for it produces a similar care and solicitude in it towards Him. For, I know not by what affinity of nature it takes place, that when a soul has once attained to behold, with unveiled face, the glory of the Lord, it is speedily, as if by a necessary law, conformed to it, and transformed into the same image. God will then appear towards you, such as you shall have appeared towards Him. With an upright man (says the Psalmist) He will show Himself upright ; with the pure He will show Himself pure (Ps. xviii. 25, 26). Why not, then, also loving with one who loves Him, attentive with the attentive, careful with the careful, and at leisure with the leisurely ?

8. Lastly, He says : I love them that love Me : and those that seek Me early shallfind Me (Prov. viii. 17) . You see how He assures you, not only of His love, if you love Him, but also of the care and thought which He employs on your behalf, if He feels that you are careful in that which relates to Him. Are you keeping vigil ? He will keep vigil too. Though you arise in the night itself, before the beginning of the morning watches, though you hasten as much as you are able to ' prevent the night watches,' you will find Him there ; you will not anticipate Him. You will act rashly if, in such a matter as this, you attribute any precedence in time, or any greater degree, to yourself rather than to Him ; for His love is greater than yours, and it is before yours. If a soul is deeply assured of these glorious truths, can you wonder that it takes pride and pleasure, even for the very reason that it is assured of them, in the thought that this Majesty which is so great gives attention to it alone, as if He had no care for the rest of His creatures ; nay, seems to set all other cares aside, and to guard it with an undivided devotion ? It is time that I should bring this sermon to an end. I will add only one thing, which seems marvellous, but is true, and is specially addressed to those spiritually minded who are among you : that a soul which beholds God beholds Him no otherwise than as if it alone were beheld by Him. It is, then, in this confidence that it declares that He gives attention to it, and that it gives attention to Him, and that it beholds nothing else but itself and Him. How good art Thou, O Lord, to the soul that seeks Thee ! Thou comest to it ; Thou dost embrace it ; Thou showest Thyself to be its Bridegroom, its Spouse ; Thou who art its Lord, yea, who art above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

WHO can now impute to the Bride presumption or insolence, because she declares that she has been admitted into fellowship with Him who feedeth among the lilies ? Even if it were said, ' He feedeth among the stars,' I know not whether in consideration of that phrase, ' He feedeth,' it would seem to be a great thing thus to have with Him friendship or familiarity. For the phrase seems to have in it somewhat humble and unrefined. And when she says that He feedeth among the lilies, she seems by this note of humiliation to repel and remove from herself any charge of temerity. For what are lilies ? According to the Word of the Lord they are the grass of the field which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven (Matt. vi. 28-30). What, then, is He who feedeth upon the grass, as a lamb or a calf ? Evidently a lamb or a fatted calf. But you have, perhaps, carefully noticed that the lilies are referred to here, not as food, but as the place of His sojourn ; nor is it said that He feedeth on the lilies, but among the lilies. So let it be. He does not feed on the grass as an ox ; but what greatness can there be in one who is found among the grass, and lies down upon it to rest, like one of the crowd which surrounds Him ; and what glory can there be to the Bride in having for her Beloved, one who acts thus ? According to the literal sense, then, the modesty of the Bride, and the discretion with which she speaks, are sufficiently apparent, and it is clear that she rules her speech with judgment, and expresses her high fortunes in unassuming words.

2. But, nevertheless, she is not unmindful that He who feedeth is the same as He who giveth food to others ; that He, though He abides among the lilies, yet reigns above the stars. But she makes mention the more willingly of the humble actions of her Beloved, because, as I have said, of His humility ; but also because He began to be her Beloved from the time when He began to feed among the lilies. Nor was it only from that time that He did so, but from that fact. For He who in the heights is the Lord, in the depths is the Beloved ; above the stars He reigns ; among the lilies He loves. Yet even above the stars He loved, because at no time and in no place, being Himself the Essential Love, could He cease to love ; but until He descended to be among the lilies, and was found to feed among them, He was not the object of love, nor did He become the Beloved. What ! you reply ; was He not loved by the Patriarchs and by the Prophets ? Assuredly ; but not before He was seen by them also, feeding among the lilies. They cannot be said not to have seen Him whom they foresaw, unless anyone is so entirely without discernment as to suppose that a person who sees in the spirit really sees nothing. Whence, then, were they Seers, for so the Prophets were called ( 1 Sam. ix. 9) aforetime, if they saw nothing ? It was because they desired to see Him whom as yet they saw not. And they would not have been able to form the desire to see Him in the body if they had not seen Him in the spirit. But, I say, were they all prophets ? Either they all wished to see, or faith was granted to all. As to all those who had the gift of spiritual vision, either they were Prophets, or they were acquiescent and in alliance with the Prophets. While as to those who had faith, to have believed, is to have seen. For it seems to me not a mistake to say that it is possible to behold a thing in spirit and by faith, and not only by the spirit of prophecy.

3. He, therefore, who giveth food to all flesh, in deigning thus to come down and to feed among the lilies, made Himself loved, because He could not be loved before He was known. Accordingly, when the Bride makes mention of her Beloved, she appropriately refers to this fact as the cause of His being known and loved. This feeding among the lilies is to be spiritually understood; to take it in a literal sense would be ridiculous. We will show, as far as we are able, what these spiritual lilies are. I think that it will behove us first to examine on what the Beloved ' feedeth among the lilies ' ; whether upon the lilies themselves, or upon other plants and flowers hidden among them. That which appears to me the more difficult is that He is not said to give food to others, but Himself to feed. For that He gives food to others is not doubtful, nor is it unworthy of Him ; but to say that He Himself feeds has a sound of indigence, and seems not capable of being attributed to Him, even spiritually, without doing some injury to His sovereign Majesty. I do not remember to have remarked in any part of this Canticle that He is said to feed ; while you will remember with me that in one place He is said to make His flocks to feed. For the Bride there asks Him to show to her where He makes His flocks to feed and to rest at noon (i. 6). And now she says that He Himself ' feedeth, which she has not asserted before ; nor does she ask to have the place where He is pointed out to her, but herself names it expressly, ' among the lilies.' The one fact she knew, the other she did not know ; because it is not possible for her to be equally well acquainted with that which is lofty and in the heaven, and that which is lowly and on the earth. Lofty is the task, lofty also is the place ; nor has access to it been granted as yet even to the Bride herself.

4. And therefore it was that He who giveth food to all men, and is their Pastor, emptied Himself of His glory even to the point of receiving food. He was found among the lilies ; He was beheld in His state of poverty by the Church, which was poor, and was beloved for the very reason of their similarity in this respect. Nor was it for this cause alone, but also because of His truth, His gentleness, and His righteousness ; because promises were fulfilled through Him ; because iniquities were forgiven ; because the demons and their chief were judged and condemned in their pride. Such, then, was He when He appeared, that He was deserving of being loved ; for, while by His own Nature He was the purest Truth, to men He was gentle and kind, and on their behalf He was righteous. O Bridegroom truly to be loved, and to be embraced with every fibre of the heart's affection ! Why should the Church hesitate or delay to commit herself with an entire devotion to one so faithful to His promises, so kind to forgive, and so strong and righteous to protect ? The Psalmist had foretold of Him long before : In Thy glory and Thy majesty ride prosperously. What kind of flower has glory and beauty ? The lily, I think ; there is nothing more beautiful than that. So the Bridegroom is fairer than all. What, then, are these lilies from which He draws a beauty so rare ? Rideprosperously, continues the Psalmist, because oftruth, and meekness, and righteousness ( Ps. xlv. 3, 4). These are the lilies ; the lilies, I say, growing out of the earth, and blooming brightly upon it ; surpassing other flowers in beauty, and fragrant above all perfumes. Among these lilies is the Bridegroom, and from them is He surpassingly fair and beautiful. For otherwise, and regarding only the infirmity of the flesh, in Him there is no form nor comeliness (Is. liii. 2).

5. An exquisite lily, most fair in hue and marvellous in fragrance, is Truth ; for its brightness is that of the Eternal Light, the unspotted mirror of the Power of God, and the image of His goodness ( Wisd. vii. 26). It is assuredly a lily which our earth has produced by a new benediction, and prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to lighten the Gentiles (Luke ii. 31 , 32). As long as the earth was under a curse it brought forth thorns and thistles . But now, by the blessing of the Lord, Truth hath sprung out of the earth (Ps. lxxxv. 11 ), the beautiful Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys. Recognise it as a lily by the whiteness and brilliancy wherewith it shone by night upon the eyes of the shepherds, as soon as it had begun to flower ; for the Gospel declares that the Angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them (Luke ii. 9). It is well said, the glory ofthe Lord, for it was not the brightness of an Angel, but of this Lily, which surrounded those who were at Bethlehem. Recognise it as a Lily from the fragrance also, which reached even the Magi, who were at so great a distance. A Star indeed appeared to them, but those Wise Men would not have followed it had they not been inwardly drawn by the persuasive fragrance of this Lily. Assuredly Truth is a lily, of which the perfume animates faith and the brightness enlightens the understanding. Lift up now your eyes to the Person of the Lord Himself, who, speaking in the Gospel, says, Iam the Truth (John xiv. 6). And see with how much reason Truth is compared to a lily. Notice, if you have never done so, how from the midst of this flower come forth five little rods of gold, beautifully arranged in the form of a crown, and surrounded by the white petals of the flower ; and recognise in this a figure of the golden crown of Divinity in Christ, with the inviolable purity of His Human Nature ; that is to say, Christ bearing the diadem wherewith His mother crowned Him (Cant. iii. 11). For that which His Father set upon His Head abides in the region of Light unapproachable, nor are you able, as yet, to behold Him wearing that. But of this we will speak at another time.

6. Truth, then, is alily ; so also is Gentleness ; it has the whiteness of innocence, the fragrance of hope. ' Remnants there are,' it is said, ' for the peaceable man ' ( Ps. xxxvii. 37, Douay). The gentle and kindly is a man of good hope [for the future life] , nor is he in the present life less an example of clemency and friendship. Does not the lily, which shines with the duties of charity, diffuse also the fragrance of hope ? Add to this that just as truth has sprung out of the earth, so also has gentleness. Unless anyone doubts that the Lamb, the Ruler of the earth (Is. xvi. 1), that Lamb who was led to the slaughter, and opened not His Mouth (Is. liii . 7), was sprung from the earth. Not only Gentleness and Truth have sprung out of the earth, but also Righteousness ; as says the Prophet : Drop down, ye Heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness : let the earth open, and let them bring forth salvation, and let Righteousness spring up together (Is. xlv. 8) . That Righteousness is a lily, the Scripture teaches us, saying that the righteous shall grow as the lily, and shall flourish for ever before the Lord ( Hos. xiv. 5).1 It is not, then, the case with this lily, that to-day it is, and to-morrow it is cast into the oven, since it shall flourish for ever ; and that before the Lord, for the righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance, and shall not be afraid of evil tidings (Ps. cxii. 6, 7) ; that is to say, he shall not fear to have to listen to that terrible sentence by which sinners are bidden to go away into everlasting fire. To whom is the brightness of this lily not visible, except the person to whom it is unpleasing ? It is a sun ; but not that sun which rises upon the evil and upon the good. For those who shall say : ' The Sun of Righteousness hath not risen upon us ' (Wisd. v. 6) have never even beheld His light. Far otherwise is it with them to whom it has been said : Unto you that fear My Name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings ( Mal. iv. 2). The whiteness of this lily, then, is among the just ; its fragrance, indeed, extends even unto sinners, although in them it is not for good. For we have heard the voice of the righteous saying : We are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish : to the one we are the savour of death unto death, and to the other the savour of life unto life (2 Cor. ii . 15, 16). Who, though he be the most abandoned of men, does not approve of the sentiments of a righteous man, although he does not love his actions ? Happy is he who does not condemn himself in that which he approves. For it is a selfcon- demnation to approve that which is good, and yet not to love it ; so that a person is not happy, but miserable, who is thus condemned by his own judgment. What can be more miserable than the condition of a person to whom the savour of life is a messenger, not of life, but of death ? Or, rather, I should call it, not a messenger of death, but a deathstroke.

7. There are still many other lilies besides these which the Prophet has indicated to us in the character of the Bridegroom ; I mean besides truth, and gentleness, and righteousness ; nor will it be difficult for each of us to find for himself similar ones in the garden, so full of delights, of the Bridegroom. It abounds and superabounds in such ; who can enumerate them ? since there are as many lilies as virtues ; and of virtues in the Lord of virtues there is no end. For in Christ there is the fulness of virtues, and, therefore, also the abundance of lilies. Therefore, perhaps, it is that He is Himself spoken of as the Lily, because He is wholly surrounded with lilies, and all events in His Life are, so to speak, lilies : His conception, His Birth, His manner of life, the words He spake, the miracles He did ; His Sacraments, His Passion, His Death, His Resurrection, His Ascension. Which of all these events is there that has not a pure splendour and a sweet fragrance ? Thus, for instance, in His Conception is apparent the brightness of heavenly light, from the abundance of the overshadowing Spirit ; so that not even the holy Virgin would have been able to endure it, if it had not been tempered to her by the power of the Most High. His Birth was rendered full of light and beauty by the pure virginity of His Mother ; His Life, by the sinlessness of His character ; His words, by their truth unsullied ; His miracles, by the purity of His Heart ; His Sacraments, by the hidden power of His goodness and kindness ; His Passion, by His willingness to suffer ; His Death, by the freedom that He had not to die ; His Resurrection, by the fortitude with which it has inspired His Martyrs ; His Ascension, by the accomplishment in it of His promises. How exquisite also is the fragrance of faith in each of these mysteries, of the faith, I mean, which is ours, and fills our hearts and minds, though we have not beheld the brightness of that glory ! For blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed (John xx. 29). May my part in these lilies be the odour of life which proceeds from them. It is faith which fills with that fragrance the nostrils (so to speak) of my soul, and fills it with so much greater abundance, because the multitude of the lilies is so great. It is that heavenly fragrance which softens the rigour of my exile, and renews in my heart without ceasing a desire and longing for my true country above.

8. Some of the companions of the Bridegroom also have their lilies, but not in great number. For though all have received the Holy Spirit, it is by measure, and by measure also have they received gifts and graces. It is He alone who possesses them without measure (John iii. 34), because He possesses all. It is one thing to have some lilies, and another thing to have lilies only. Whom can you show me, from among the sons of the captivity, who is so holy and entirely without guile, as to be able to cover all the land that is his with flowers like these ? Not the infant of a day old is pure upon the earth (Job xiv. 4, 5, according to the LXX. ). Great and successful is he who is able to train up in the plot of ground committed to him even three or four of these lilies, in the midst of such a thicket of thorns and thistles , which are the inveterate seeds of the ancient curse. As for me, who am poor, I shall think myself happy if I am enabled by diligent weeding to clear my little plot of land from that evil crop of iniquities and vices, and by careful cultivation to ensure the growth of even one lily, so that He who feedeth among the lilies may deign sometimes to find His place for so doing in my soul.

9. I have said ' even one lily, ' but this is too little, and it was out of the poverty of my heart that my mouth spake. For one will not suffice ; at least two are absolutely necessary. I refer to continence and to innocence, whereof the one without the other will not save. It will be in vain that I invite the Bridegroom to come to either one of these, for He is represented, not as feeding upon a lily, but among the lilies. My care, then, shall be to have lilies, so that He who feedeth among the lilies may not, because I have only a single one, turn away from His servant in displeasure. I set, therefore, inno cence first of all, and if I am able to join continence to it, I shall think myself rich in the possession of lilies. I am even, as it were, a king, if I am able to add to these, as a third lily, patience. And, indeed, the two former would suffice ; but because they maybe found wanting in the time of temptations, and the life of man upon the earth is marked by temptation (Job vii. 1), there is much need on that account of patience, which is, so to speak, the protector and guardian of both. I think that if He who is the lover of lilies shall come, and shall find us in that condition, He will not, then, disdain with us to feed, with us to eat the Passover, since He will find great sweetness in the two former virtues, and great security shall be in the third. We shall see later on how He, who feeds and gives nourishment to all flesh, is here said Himself to feed. But now one thing is clear: that the Bridegroom not only appears among the lilies, but is to be found only among them, since every part of His character is a lily, that is, a virtue ; and He Himself is the Lily, the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever AMEN. .

THE conclusion of the last sermon shall form the commencement of this . The Bridegroom, then, is a Lily, but not a lily among thorns, because He did not commit sin, and thorns signify sin. It is the Bride of whom He has borne His testimony that she is a lily among thorns (Cant. ii. 2), and therefore if she should say that she had no thorns, she would deceive herself, and the truth would not be in her. As for Him, He has declared that He is the Rose, indeed, and the Lily, yet not among thorns. Instead of this, He says : I am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys. He makes no mention of thorns, because He alone among men has no need to say : I am turned in my anguish, while the thorn is fastened (Ps. xxxii. 4, Douay). Therefore He is never without lilies, because He is always without faults, because He is wholly and always white and glistering, fairer than the children of men (Ps. xlv. 3). Do you, then, who listen to, or who read these words, take heed that you have in your soul, and in your life, lilies that grow and flourish, if you wish to have Him who dwelleth among the lilies dwelling in you. Let 1 Tutrix ; another reading is, nutrix. the blameless whiteness of your character and actions, let the fragrance they exhale, bear testimony that all your occupations, all your impulses, all your desires, are lilies. For characters have, as it were, their colour and their odour ; nor are colour and odour the same thing in spirit any more than in bodies. Colour has regard to the right intention, fragrance to the good reputation of actions. Ye have made our savour to be abhorred in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants (Exod. v. 21), said the Israelites, speaking of opinion. The intention of the heart, and the judgment of the conscience of the doer, give to an action its colour. Vices are black, and virtue white, and the conscience when consulted distinguishes between the one and the other. The Lord's declaration respecting the single eye and the eye that is evil (Matt. vi. 22, 23) holds good, because there are certain lines of division between whiteness and blackness, as between light and darkness. That which comes forth from a pure heart and a good conscience is therefore white, and is virtue ; and if, furthermore, good reputation follows it, it is a lily, since neither whiteness nor fragrance is wanting to it.

2. And although good reputation does not render virtue more great, it, nevertheless, renders it fairer and more illustrious. If there be any spot upon the intention, it will not fail to appear also upon that which that intention has produced ; for the fault of the root reappears in the branches. And on this account, whatsoever it be that a corrupted root shall produce from itself, not without communication of its own corruption, for example, discourses, actions, or prayers, even though they seem to enjoy public esteem, it is not entitled to be called a lily, because, though it has an appearance of fragrant odour, it is wanting in colour. For how can that be a lily which has upon it a spot of discoloration ? Nor will reputation avail to make that a virtue which the consciousness of bad intention convicts of being a vice. Virtue, indeed, will be content with a good conscience, where good report cannot possibly follow ; but the fragrance of reputation will not suffice to excuse the fault of a conscience that is stained. Yet a man of virtue will, as far as he is able, provide things honourable, not only before God, but also in the sight of men (Rom. xii. 17), that he may truly be a lily.

3. But there is a whiteness of the soul which comes of the forgiving mercy of God, as He declares Himself by the mouth of the Prophet : Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool (Is. i. 18). There is still another kind of whiteness with which a person clothes himself, who showeth mercy with cheerfulness. And if you consider the man charitable and gracious, who is described by the Psalmist, who showeth favour and lendeth (Ps. cxii. 5), will it not seem to you that this joy is, as it were, a whiteness and glory of kindness with which he is clad, and which appears as well upon his countenance as upon his work ? On the contrary, when anyone gives with sadness and, as it were, by necessity, his brow and his 28 hands are so far from being white, that they gather blackness from the feelings of his heart. And therefore God loveth a cheerful giver (2 Cor. ix. 7) . Does He love one who gives reluctantly and sadly ? He who looked favourably upon Abel because of the willing heart which was expressed by the brightness of his countenance turned His Face from Cain, whose countenance fell, doubtless with sadness and jealousy (Gen. iv. 4, 5) . Consider, then, of what a nature must be the colour of sadness and jealousy for God to turn away His Face from it. A poet has expressed aptly and elegantly that white brilliance of gladness which colours a deed of kindness, when he says in its praise : ' Super omnia vultus Accessere boni.....1 Nor is it only the cheerful giver, but he also who giveth with simplicity (Rom. xii. 8), who is loved by God ; for simplicity shows the whiteness of the soul. This I prove from the consideration of the contrary, for duplicity is a spot ; nay, it is a stain. For what is duplicity but deceit and fraud ? And he who acts deceitfully in the sight of God, his iniquity is found to be hateful (Ps. xxxvi. 2) . Therefore it is that the man is called blessed unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile (Ps. xxxii . 2) . The Lord has well expressed in few words these two spots upon the soul, a feigned sadness, and deceit : Be not as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance (Matt. vi. 16). The Bridegroom, being virtue, takes pleasure in virtues ; being a lily, He abides willingly among the lilies ; and being Himself of a pure whiteness, delights in those whose souls are white and pure.

4. Perhaps, also, this is the signification of ' feedeth among the lilies, ' namely, that He delighteth in the whiteness and fragrance of virtues . Formerly, when He was in the Body, He was nourished with food in the house of Martha and Mary ; he reclined, even in the body, among the lilies (I speak of them, for they were lilies ), and at the same time was refreshed in spirit by the devotion and virtues of women. If, then, in that hour a Prophet, or an Angel, or some spiritual man, who was not unaware of the greatness of Him who there reclined, had entered, would he not have been lost in wonder at the condescension and familiar kindness shown by Him to those beings of pure mind and of modest, though earthly, body and of the weaker sex ? and would he not have been able to bear true testimony, ' I have seen Him not only abiding, but also feeding, among the lilies ? It is thus that the Bridegroom is found to feed among the lilies in a twofold manner, namely, in flesh and in spirit. I think, also, that He fed them in turn, but that was in spirit. But how did He nourish them spiritually by whom He was physically nourished ? Did He not strengthen the timidity of those pious women, cheer their humility, enrich and render fruitful their devotion ? But if you have seen that to Him to be nourished is to 1 Ovid, ' Metamor. ,' Bk. viii. , vv. 677, 678. nourish, now notice also that, conversely, to nourish others is to be nourished Himself. What did the holy Patriarch, Jacob, say : God, whichfed me all my life long unto this day ? ( Gen. xlviii. 15) . He is a good master of a household who takes care for those of his house, and more especially in troublous days, who gives food to their hunger, yea, feeds them with the bread of knowledge and of life, and thus nourishes them for life eternal. But thus feeding others, He is, as I think, Himself nourished, and that with the food which is most agreeable to Him, I mean, with our progress in goodness ; for it is a joy to the Lord to see us strong and courageous in good.

5. Thus, then, it is that, when He feeds others, He is Himself fed ; and when He is fed He feeds others ; at once refreshing us with His spiritual joy, and being Himself rejoiced with our spiritual advancement. To Him my penitence, my salvation, indeed, I myself, are, as it were, nourishment. Does He not, according to the phrase of the Psalmist, eat ashes as it were bread ? (Ps. cii. 9). I am that ashes, for I am a sinner, and He, spiritually speaking, feeds upon me ; He feeds upon me when He reproves and convicts me of my sin ; I am swallowed when I am taught and trained ; I am cooked when changed, and digested when transformed ; finally, I am made one with Him when I am conformed unto His likeness. Do not wonder at this : it is that we may be more closely united to Him that He both feeds on us and is our food. Otherwise, our union with Him would not be perfect ; for if I feed upon Him, but He not upon me, it will appear that, though He is in me, I am not yet in Him. If, on the contrary, He feeds upon me, but I do not upon Him, it will appear that, though I am in Him, yet He is not also in me; and in either of the two cases there is not a perfect union between us. But if He so feeds upon me that I may be in Him, and I in turn upon Him that He may be in me, how complete and strong is the bond between us, since I am in Him, and He will, nevertheless, be in me.

6. Shall I make clearer what has been said by a comparison ? Lift your eyes, then, to a truth of the highest order, which has much similarity, nevertheless, to that before us. If the Bridegroom Himself were in the Father in such wise that the Father were not in Him, or if the Father were so in Him that He was not in the Father, I venture to say that the union between them, if union it were, would stop short of being perfect. But now, as He is in the Father and the Father in Him, there is no defect in their union, but He and the Father are truly and Perfectly One. So, also, the soul, for which it is good to adhere to God (Ps. lxxiii. 28), does not regard itself as perfectly united to Him, until both He abides in it, and it in Him. Not that even then it may be said to be one with God, in the same manner as the Father and the Son are one, although he that isjoined unto the Lord is one spirit ( 1 Cor. vi. 17). This I have read, but that I 1 Connexio ; so read the earliest editions and many MSS. Others have : Erit perinde firma connexio et complexio integra. have not read. I do not speak of myself, I who am a person of very small importance (nihil), but assuredly there is no one in his senses, no one, I say, on earth or in heaven, who would arrogate to himself that saying of the Only Begotten Son of God: I and the Father are One (John x. 30). And yet I, though I am but dust and ashes, do not hesitate to say, in reliance upon the authority of Scripture, that I am one spirit with God, if, that is to say, I have ever been convinced by certain experience, that I am joined to the Lord, after the likeness of one of those who abide in charity, and by this abide in God, and God in them, feeding upon God, and He upon them. For it is of such a union that, as I think, the words are said : He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit. What then ? The Son says : Iam in the Father, and the Father in Me : and We are One (John x. 30, 38), while, as for the man, he says : ' I am in God, and God in me, and we are one spirit. '

7. But is it the case that as the Father and the Son, that. They may be the One in the Other, and so be One, reciprocally feed upon each other, so God and man mutually penetrate each other by a kind of reciprocal manducation, and thus exist, if not as one being, yet as one spirit ? By no means. For in the one case and in the other the indwelling is not after the same manner, and the unity of each is different. (In fact, the difference of unity, and the nature of that difference is indicated by the two words, unus and unum (that is, ' one ' and ' the same substance '). For the former does not apply to the union between the Father and the Son, nor the latter to that between God and man. You, if you are already instructed in this mystery, will, if you make use of this opportunity, become so still more fully ; and you should remark prudently, that by unum is denoted the unity of Substance or of Nature, while by ' unus ' is indeed denoted a unity, but one of a kind very different, because the Essence and Nature of God is far other than that of man, while it is evident that the Essence of the Father and of the Son is One. You see that this union between God and man is not in the fullest sense a unity, at least, not if it be compared with that other unique and sovereign Unity. For how can there be complete unity where there is plurality of nature and difference of substance ? And yet a soul that is joined unto the Lord is said to be one spirit with Him, and is so in fact; nor is the plurality of substances any bar to this unity, since it is brought about, not by a confusion of natures, but by an agreement of wills. It is in this sense that many 1 One MS. adds ' after a certain manner ' ; but the words are wanting in others, and, indeed, in the earliest editions. 2 The parenthesis that we have here is wanting in the MSS. of Citeaux, of St. Germain, and of Jumièges ; but it is found in others, and in the earliest editions. As for the second and much longer one, which follows a little later on, and extends from the middle of n. 8 to the middle of n. 10, it is, on the contrary, wanting in those earlier MSS. but is found in the later ones. Both the one and the other are superfluous. This diversity is caused by St. Bernard having retouched the passage, so that the first parenthesis of the former edition seems to be the second of the later one. We leave the reader to judge. hearts are said to be one, and many souls one, as it is written : The multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul (Acts iv. 32) . This, then, as regards unity.

8. But what is that unity which does not come into being by the act of uniting, but which is from all eternity ? Nor is it, like the other, produced by an act of mutual manducation, because it is not produced at all, but simply exists. It does not admit of conjunction, nor composition, nor any such thing, which is inconsistent with a perfect unity. To the Father and the Son, Nature, Essence, and Will, are not only one, but the same. For Nature, Essence, and Will, are Their Being and Substance. It must not, then, be said that the Unity, in which the Father and the Son are One, is a consequence following from their Natures, their Substances , or their Wills ; it can in no sense be said to be caused or to come into existence, but it simply exists ; in a word, it is not factitious, but original. ] ] The Father and the Son are the One in the Other. They are, in a manner which is not only ineffable, but also incomprehensible, capable of containing and being contained, but if They are capable of containing Each Other it is without Their being divisible ; and if They are capable of being contained, it is without participation. For, as the Church sings in a hymn : ' In the FATHER the Son is wholly, and in the Word is the FATHER wholly.' The Father is in the Son, in whom He is always well pleased ; and the Son is in the Father, of whom He is always the Begotten, and from whom He is never separated. Now it is by charity that man is in God and God in man, as says S. John : He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him ( 1 John iv. 16). It is by this consent and oneness ofwill that they are two in one spirit, or, rather, are one spirit. Do you perceive the distinction ? It is not the same thing to be consubstantial, that is, of the same substance, and consenting, that is, concurring in the same will. Although, if you notice carefully, that difference in their unity is sufficiently indicated to you by the words unus and unum, since the former does not apply to the union of the Father and the Son, nor the latter to that between God and man. The Father and the Son cannot be said to be one [only], since the One is Father, and the Other is Son ; yet They are declared to be, and are, one and the same Substance, because it is common to Both, nor has Each His singular Substance. On the contrary, God and man have not the same substance or nature, and, therefore, cannot be said to be unum. And yet, if they are attached to each other by the tie of love, they may, with perfect truth, be said to be one spirit. But that unity is brought about rather by the concurrence of wills than9. There by theisunion now ofmadeessences sufficiently . clear (if I do not mistake) not only the diversity, but also the disparity, of these unities, the one existing in the same essence, and the other in diverse essences. What can differ more between themselves than the unity which exists between 1 Hymn. pro Feria Secund. ad Matutin. things of different kinds and between those of the same kind ? The words unus and unum, as I have already said, mark the difference between the two kinds of unities, since by the word unum the essential unity between the Father and the Son is designated, and by unus, not this, but a mutual consent of affections and of will between God and man is so referred to. Nevertheless, it may very well be said that the Father and the Son are ' one' (unus), with the addition of some defining word ; as, for example, one God, one Lord; and generally, with regard to all that relates equally to Each and not to One in particular. For Their Godhead or Their Majesty is no more diverse in Each than is Their Substance or Essential Nature ; and all these, if you consider piously the matter, are not diverse in Them or divided, but are one. I have said too little : they are one and the same with Them. What shall we say of that unity in which, as we read, many hearts and many souls are one ? I think that it does not merit the name of unity when compared with this, since it does not unite many things, but marks them singly as being one. Therefore that Unity, which is not brought about by any unifying act, but which exists from all eternity, is unique and supreme. Nor is it the effect of that spiritual manducation of which mention was made before, because it is not brought about, but it exists. Much less is it to be considered as due to any conjunction whatsoever of Essences or consent of Wills, for there is in it neither plurality of the one nor of the other. In Them, as has been said, there is one Essence and one Will ; and where these are one there cannot be consent, nor composition, nor conjunction, nor any such thing. There must be at least two wills to unite in a common consent, and similarly there must be two essential existences for that consent to produce union. There is nothing like this in the Father and the Son, since there is in Them neither two Essences nor two [divergent] wills. These two things are in them but one, or, as I remember that I said before, these two things make but one in Them and with Them ; and inasmuch as They abide Each in the Other, in a manner unchangeable as it is incomprehensible, they are truly and uniquely One. Yet if anyone wishes to say that between the Father and the Son there is consent, I do not contest this, provided it be understood, not of a union of Wills, but of a unity of Will.

10. And yet we think that God and man abide each mutually in the other, but in a manner far different from that just referred to, because their substances and their Wills are distinct, and they abide each in the other in a manner far different ; that is, they are not blended as to substances, but consentaneous as to wills. And this union is to them a communion of wills and a conformity in charity. Happy is this union if you have had experience of it, even though, compared with that more perfect union just referred to, it seem to be nothing at all. It was the saying of one who had experienced this : It is good for me to draw near to God (Ps. lxxiii. 28). It is indeed a 1 Incommutabiliter. Another reading is incomparabiliter. great good if you hold fast wholly to Him. Who, then, is it who perfectly does this except the person who, abiding in God as being loved by God, nevertheless draws God into himself by a reciprocal affection ? Therefore, when God and man are mutually and perfectly attached ( which is the case when they are mutually incorporate by close affection), I may without doubt say that by this God is in man and man in God. But man is indeed in God from all eternity, since he is beloved by God from all eternity, if, that is to say, he is of those who assert that He hath loved and accepted us in His dear Son before the foundation of the world ( Eph. i. 4-6). But God is in man from the time that He is beloved by man. And, if this be the case, man indeed is in God even when God is not in man; but God is not in the man who is not in God. For although perhaps he loves for a time, he is not able to remain in the love of God if he is not loved of God ; nor even, though loved, is he yet able to love Him. Otherwise, how shall that saying stand good: He first loved us ? ( 1 John iv. 19) . But when he who was loved before begins also to love, then man is in God and God in man. But he who never loves has plainly never been loved, and it is thus certain that he is not in God, nor is God in him. All this has been said to show the difference between that bond by which the Father and the Son are One, and that by which a soul which attaches itself to God is one spirit with Him, lest perhaps, when we read of the man who abides in love, that he abides in God and God in him, and also of the Son, that He is in the Father and the Father in Him, it should be thought that an adopted son of God enjoys the same prerogative as the Only Begotten.

11. These truths, then, having been made clear, let us return to Him whofeedeth among the lilies, for it was from that point that we started to make this digression ; whether it has been of interest and value it is for you to judge. I have already, as it seems to me, given two explanations of this passage. I have said that the Bridegroom, who is Himself the virtue and Brightness [of His Father] , finds nourishment in the virtues of those upon whom He has shed the brightness of sanctity ; and also that he receives sinners to penitence in His Body, which is the Church ; and that it was to unite them with Himself that He was Himself made sin, who did no sin, that the body of sin might be destroyed in which sinners had once been incorporated, and that they might become righteousness in Him, being justified freely by His grace.

12. A third explanation which occurs to me I proceed to lay before you, and I think that it will suffice, not only for the explanation of the passage, but for the ending of this sermon. The Word of God is truth, and this is the Bridegroom. This you know ; listen, then, to what remains. When a person hears this [Truth] and does not obey it, it remains empty and, so to speak, barren ; it is sorrowful, and complains that it has been brought forward to no good purpose. But if the hearer has obeyed it, will it not seem to you that the Word has grown and taken to itself a body, because action is joined to word, inasmuch as it is strengthened and reinforced by the fruits of obedience and the harvest of righteousness ? Thence it is that He says in the Apocalypse : Behold, I stand at the door and knock ; if any man hear My Voice, and open the door, Iwill come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me (Rev. iii. 20). It seems that the Lord gives approval to this explanation where He says in a prophet that His word shall not return unto Him void, but shall prosper, and accomplish that whereto He has sent it (Is. lv. 12). It shall not return, He says, unto Me void or barren, but as succeeding in all things ; it shall be filled with the good actions of those who shall obey it in love. For, according to the usual manner of speaking, a word is said to be fulfilled when it has produced the effect intended by it ; while, until it has done this, it is called empty and meagre and, so to speak, famishing.

13. But hear with what food the Word Himself declares that He is nourished. My meat, He says, is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work (John iv. 34). This is the utterance of the Word Himself, and declares plainly that every good work is His nourishment ; and, furthermore, that He finds it among the lilies, that is, among the virtues. That which is to be found, if it be so, beyond those limits, He who feedeth among the lilies will not touch, even though it seem to be, so far, good of its kind. For example, He will not accept alms from the hand of a robber or a usurer ; nor, again, from the hand of a hypocrite who, when he bestows alms, causes a trumpet to be sounded before him that he may obtain the praise of men. He will by no means accept the prayer of him who loves to pray at the corners of the streets that he may be seen of men (Matt. vi. 2, 5) . For the prayer of the ungodly will be abominable to Him (Prov. xxviii. 9) . Without avail, also, will it be for one to offer his gift before the altar who is conscious that his brother has some cause of complaint against him (Matt. v. 23, 24). He had not respect unto the offerings of Cain, for the very reason that he was not well inclined towards his brother (Gen. iv. 5). As is testified by a holy prophet, He delighted not in the sabbaths and new moons and sacrifices of the Jews, so that He protested openly that they were abhorrent to Him, and asked : Whenye come to appear before Me, who hath required this atyour hand ? (Is. i. 12). I believe that those hands had not the fragrance of lilies, and for that reason He who was wont to feed, not among thorns, but among lilies, disdained the gifts they proffered, Were not those hands filled with thorns of which He said : Yourhands are full ofblood ? The hands of Esau were bristly, as if they had been covered with thorns, and therefore they were not admitted to minister to one who was holy.

14. I fear that there may be some among us also whose gifts the Bridegroom does not accept, because they have not the fragrance of the lilies. For if my own self-will is found, for instance, in the fasts which I make, the Bridegroom will not accept such fasting as that, because it savours not of the lily of obedience, but of the sin of my own selfwill. The same thing is to be said, not only of fasting, but of silence, of vigils, of prayer, of reading, of manual labour, and, in short, of every observance of the monastic life, where there is found in it, not obedience to a superior, but the prompting of our own selfwill. I should consider that those observances, although good in themselves, are not to be numbered among lilies, that is, among virtues ; but that the man whose services are of such a kind would hear from the Prophet the question : ' Is it such a service as this that I have chosen ? saith the Lord ' (Is. lviii. 3-5) ; and he adds : ' In the day of your fast ye find pleasure. ' Self-will is a great evil, since it causes your good works not to be good for you. Such works need to [be altered, and] become lilies ; for He who feedeth among the lilies will not taste of anything which is defiled with self-will. Wisdom is everywhere ; she passeth and goeth through all things by reason of her pureness, nor can any defiled thing fall into her ( Wisd. vii. 24, 25) . So, then, the Bridegroom loves to feed among the lilies, that is, in pure and clear hearts. But how long shall this be ? Until the day break and the shadows flee away. This passage is full of shadows and of difficulties ; let us not enter into the thick wood of this profound mystery, except in the full light of day. But now, as my sermon has been unusually prolonged, the day has drawn to a close, and we are obliged unwillingly to withdraw from these lilies. I have not hesitated to expatiate at greater length than usual, because the fragrance of these flowers prevents anyone from being wearied or annoyed. There seems but little remaining of the verse before us ; but ofthat little the meaning is deeply hidden, as is the case with all other parts of this poem. But He who reveals mysteries will come to our help, as I trust, when we shall have begun to knock [at the door] ; nor will He shut the mouths of them that speak of Him. Rather is He wont to open those that are closed. He is the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

THE last part only of these clauses remains to be treated, and I am in doubt, in entering upon it, to which of the two preceding ones it ought to be joined, for I may connect it indifferently with either. For whether you say, My Beloved is mine, and I am His, until the day break and the shadows flee away, interposing only, He feedeth among the lilies, or following the literal order, Hefeedeth among the lilies, until the day break and the shadows flee away, you have in either case a sense perfectly good. There is only this difference, that if you join the ' until' to the former sentence, the day is included in the sense; but if to the latter, the day is excluded from it. Are we to suppose that, in intimating that the Bridegroom will cease to feed among the lilies when the day shall have dawned, it is intended to declare that He will also cease to belong to the Bride and she to Him ? By no means. Their relation shall endure for ever, with the sole difference that it shall then be as much happier as it shall be stronger, and as much stronger as it is freer and less impeded. It is necessary, then, to understand this word ' until ' in the same way as that passage in the Gospel of St. Matthew where it is said that Joseph knew not Mary until she had brought forth her firstborn Son ( Matt. i. 25). For he knew her not afterwards. Or, as in that verse of a Psalm : Our eyes wait upon the Lord our God, until that He have mercy upon us ( Ps. cxxiii. 2) ; but not that they should be turned away from Him when He has begun to have mercy. Or, again, as that saying of our Lord to His Apostles : Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world, for He will not cease to be with them after that event has taken place. But now see how this word until is to be understood if you connect it with the words, MyBeloved is mine, and I am His. For if you refer it to He feedeth among the lilies, another sense must be put upon it. Now, there will be a good deal of difficulty in showing in what manner the Beloved ceases to feed among the lilies when the day begins to break. Is the day spoken of that of the Resurrection ? But, then, why should it not please Him much more to pasture among the lilies, seeing that there is then a much greater abundance of them ? So much as relates to the connection of the clauses.

2. Consider, now, with me, how, although (after the consummation of all things), the Bridegroom is in the midst of a Kingdom which is glorious with lilies, in which He takes the greatest joy and delight, yet it is not said that He feeds [among] them, as He had been accustomed to do up to that time. For where, then, are those sinners whom Christ makes one with Himself, having, so to speak, ground and masticated them with the teeth of an austere discipline, that is to say, with affliction of the flesh and heartfelt contrition ? Nor, again, will the Bridegroom, who is the Word, any longer require for Himself the food of various works or actions of obedience, where the only action will be to enjoy repose, and the occupation [of the blessed] to contemplate God and be fully satisfied in Him. His food is, indeed, to do the will of His Father ; but this refers to the present state, not to the future : for how can He be engaged in doing that which is fully done ? And it is clear that then it will be complete and perfected. It is in that state that all the saints will know clearly what is that Will of God which is good, and acceptable, and perfect (Rom. xii. 2) . And assuredly nothing remains to be done of that which is fully perfected. The occupation that is left is to find enjoyment in it, not to bring it about ; to experience it, not to carry it into effect ; to live in that Divine Will, not to exercise one's self in accomplishing it. Is it not of that very Will that we are taught of the Lord to pray earnestly that it may be done, as in heaven, so in earth ( Matt. vi. 10), so that the carrying it out may not be a labour to us, but the fruits of it be then a delight ? So, then, the Bridegroom, the Word, will no longer require the food of good works, because there every work will necessarily cease where all are filled with the abundance of wisdom. For they who are lessin action shall receive wisdom ( Ecclus. xxxviii. 25).

3. But let us now see if what we say is capable of standing with that sense of the words ' He feedeth among the lilies ' in which some interpret them ; namely, that He rejoices in the excellence, and, so to speak, in the whiteness of virtues. For we, too, have not passed over that sense among others. Shall we say, then, either that there are no virtues, or that the Bridegroom does not take pleasure in them ? Either alternative is altogether extravagant. But see whether He does not take delight in them in any other manner ; and if, instead of their being food to Him, they do not perhaps, and so to speak, serve Him as drink. During this life, and in this mortal body, there is no virtue of ours which is so purified from mortal frailty, and rendered so pure and sweet as to serve for the use of the Word in this way. But He who wills that all men shall be saved overlooks many things, and devotes His efforts, as it were, with pains and skill, to extract from that which cannot be used as a beverage somewhat agreeable and worthy to be food. A time shall come when virtue shall be capable of being pure and clear, so that instead of being masticated with labour and fatigue, or, rather, instead of wearying the eater, it shall give to him delight without weariness, but it is no longer as food that is eaten, but as a draught that is swallowed. It is that which the Lord promises in the Gospel : I will not drink henceforth ofthis fruit of the vine until that day when Idrink it new with you in My Father's Kingdom (Matt. xxvi. 29). And He makes no mention of food. We read also in a Psalm : Like a mighty man that shouteth by reason of wine ( Ps. lxxviii. 65) ; but here also food is not mentioned. The Bride is, then, conscious of this mystery when, having found and declared that her Beloved feedeth among the lilies, she names a time until which He deigns to do this, or, rather, has recognised and stated the time already fixed, saying, until the day break, and the shadowsflee away. For she knew that after, He would rather drink ( so to speak) of virtues than feed upon them. That, it may be said, agrees with the usual custom, that drink should follow food. He, then, who takes food here on earth shall taste of drink in heaven, and with as much greater sweetness as security ; inasmuch as then He shall drink with ease, while now He partakes of them with labour, and, as it were, eats of them but in morsels.

4. Let us now set ourselves to consider what is that day and what are those shadows of which the Bride speaks : in what manner the one breaks, that is, appears, and by what power the others flee away. The expression here used is significant and singular, for it is only in this passage, I believe, that you will find the day spoken of as breathing. For the winds are said to breathe, notthe times. Man breathes, other animals breathe ; and it is the air continually breathed which enables them to live. And what is this but wind ? The Holy Spirit also breathes, and hence His Name. In what way, then, is the day, which is not a spirit, nor a wind, nor, indeed, a living creature at all, said to breathe ? Although it is not, indeed, said to breathe, but, which is still more remarkable, to aspire [spirans ; aspirans]. Nor is it less extraordinary that it is said, and the shadowsflee away, since, at the rising of this visible and material light the shadows do not flee away, but are dissipated. The explanation of these things is to be sought outside the sphere of things corporeal. If we shall be able to find a spiritual day and spiritual shadows, then what is meant by the aspiration of one and thefleeingaway of the other will become clearer. If it be considered that the day of which the Psalmist says : Aday in Thy courts is better than a thousand (Ps. lxxxiv. 10), is a literal one, I know not what ought not to be understood in a literal sense. is a day also which is taken in an evil sense, and which is named with malediction by the Prophets (Job iii. 3 and Jer. xx. 14). But let us by no means think that it is one of those visible days which the Lord has made. It is a day in a spiritual sense. There

5. Who can doubt also that the shadow which rested upon Mary when she conceived (Luke i. 35) was a spiritual one ? And so was it with that which is thus mentioned in the Prophet : Under His shadow we shall live among the heathen (Lam. iv. 20). But I think, nevertheless, that in this place by ' shadows' is meant those hostile powers which are called not ' shadows ' only, but ' darkness ' by an Apostle, where he speaks of the rulers of the darkness of this world (Eph. vi. 12) ; and that they designate also those of our race who are attached to these ; who are children of the night, not of light, nor of the day. For when the day shall appear, these shadows shall not be entirely destroyed, while we see that material shadows not only disappear from the presence of the light of this world, but perish altogether. They shall not, then, be entirely destroyed, but shall be more miserable than if they were. They shall exist, but in a state degraded and subdued. Thus the Psalmist saith (and no doubt he refers to the prince of these shadows) ' he will crouch and fall when he shall have power over the poor ' ( Ps. ix. 10, Douay). His nature shall not, then, be annihilated, but his power taken away ; his substance shall not perish, but the hour of darkness and its power shall pass. They are cast down that they may not see the glory of God ; they are not blotted out of existence, that they may dwell for ever in the flame. Shall not the shadows be laid prostrate when the mighty 1 Aspiret, Vulgate. ' THE DAY BREAKS AND THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY ' 445 are cast down from their seat, and have been made a footstool ? Speedily shall that come to pass. It is the last time : the night is far spent, the day is at hand. The day shall wax, the night wane ( Rom. xiii. 12). The night signifies the devil, the angel of Satan, though he transform himself into an angel of light. The night is Antichrist, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of His Mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of His coming ( 2 Thess. ii. 8). And is not the Lord the day ? Evidently He is the Day, which breathes and brightens, which puts to flight the shadows by the Breath of His Mouth, and destroys the phantoms [of the night] by the brightness of His coming. Or if you prefer to take the phrase ' flee away ' in the sense of ' to be extinguished, ' I do not oppose this. We see that the dark sayings and figures of Scripture are shadows ; so also are those ambiguous modes of speaking, those subtle phrases, and involved arguments, which obscure the light of truth rather than discover it. For in part we know, and in part we prophesy. But when the day breaks the shadows shall flee away ; for when the fulness of light is occupying every place, there is no spot left where shadows may linger. For when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away ( 1 Cor. xiii. 9, 10) .

6. That would suffice, if the Scripture said simply that the day ' breathes,' and not that it ' aspires.'2 But now I think it needful to add a few words to explain the reason of this small addition, and of the distinction which it indicates. For I, to speak truly, have long been persuaded that in the sacred and precious text of the Scripture not the smallest particle is without meaning and importance. Now, we are accustomed to make use of this word, to express the seeking something with eager desire, as, for example, when we say that such and such a person ' aspires ' to this honour, or that dignity. There is denoted, then, by this word a marvellous abundance and power of the Holy Spirit to be manifested hereafter in that day when not only our souls, but even our bodies shall become spiritual, according to their manner, and when those who shall be found worthy shall be inebriated with the fulness of the House of the Lord, and shall drink to the full of the river of His pleasures.

7. There is still another way in which this passage may be taken. The sanctified day has already shone upon the holy Angels, breathing upon them, like a mighty wind, the sweetly flowing secrets of the eternal Divinity. For the Psalmist says : The river of the flood thereof maketh glad the City of God ( Ps. xlvi. 4) ; but he refers to that City, to which it is said : Like as the habitation of all that rejoice is in thee ( Ps. lxxxvii. 7). But when that day shall have breathed upon us also who dwell on the earth, it shall be not only a day of breathing, but also a day of aspiring, because it shall, as it were, open its bosom and admit us also. Or rather (that we may go farther back and treat of the course of events more at length) after the Creator had made man of the dust of the earth, He, as the truthful history narrates, breathed into his nostrils the breath of life ( Gen. ii . 7) . That then became for him a day of inspiration. But, lo, an envious night, pretending to be light, dashed against this day, for in promising to man a light of knowledge far more brilliant than he had, it enveloped our first parents, by the perfidious counsel given to them, with sudden darkness, with a deep and terrible obscurity. Woe ! woe to them ! they have not known nor understood; they walk on ignorantly in obscurity, taking darkness for light, and light for darkness. For the woman ate of the tree which the serpent had suggested (dederat) to her, which God had forbidden, and gave of it to her husband, and a new day, as it were, began to shine for them. For then the eyes of them both were opened, and that day became for them a day of conspiring, which destroyed the day of inspiration, and substituted for it an expiring day. Assuredly the subtlety of the serpent, the blandishments of the woman, and the weakness of the man, conspired and assembled together against the Lord, and against His Christ. Wherefore also the Lord and His Christ spake together : Behold, the man is become as one of us (Gen. iii. 22), because he had assented to the enticements of sinners, to the injury of each.

8. In this day we all are born. We all bear, in fact, impressed upon us as by cautery, the brand of that ancient conspiracy : Eve still lives in our flesh, and the serpent strives without ceasing, through the concupiscence which we derive from birth, to make us consenting parties to his rebellion. It is for that reason, as I have said, that the saints of the ancient law cursed that day, wishing that it might be short, and speedily turned to night, because it is a day of contention and contradiction, in which the flesh does not cease to revolt against the spirit, and during which the contrary law which abides in our members is in continual and unwearied contradiction to the law of our spirit. That is why it has become an expiring day. For then and thenceforth, what man is there who shall live and never see death ? (Ps. lxxxix. 48) . Let anyone say that pleases, that this is an effect of the wrath of God; I should nevertheless say that it is the effect of His mercy ; so that the elect, on account of whom all things are done, should not so long be tormented by a contradiction full of trouble by which they also are led captive by the law of sin, which is in their members. For they abhor and endure with great reluctance that shameful captivity, that melancholy contradiction .

9. Let us hasten, then, to respire free from that old and injurious conspiration, because the days of man are few and brief (Job xiv. 1). Let the day of free respiration receive us and enlighten us, before a night of deep horror (suspirans) swallow us up, wrapping around us the thick glooms of the outer and everlasting darkness. Do you ask to what does this phrase (of respiration) refer, and in whom is it found ? It consists in this, that the spirit begins in turn to mortify the deeds of the flesh. If you feel repugnance to these, you are breathing ; if you are mortifying them by the spirit ; if you crucify ' THE DAY BREAKS AND THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY ' 447 the flesh with its affections and lusts, you have breathed. I keep under my body, says St. Paul, and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway ( 1 Cor. ix. 27). That is the utterance of a man who is breathing the free breath of the spirit ; yea, rather who had already done SO. Go thou, and do likewise ( Luke x. 37), that you may show that you have breathed this inspiring air, and know that this day of inspiration has shone upon you. The night of death shall not prevail against this day of revival ; it shines in the darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not. This light of life shall not fail even when life departs, and I think that to no one more fitly, than to him who dies thus, can these words be assigned : Even the night shall be light about me ( Ps. cxxxix. 11). Why should he not see more clearly, being delivered from the shadow, or rather from the corruption of the body ? When freed from corporeal bonds, he will doubtless be as free among the dead, and as one who sees among the blind. For like as once in former times, when throughout Egypt none could see clearly, the people of Israel alone had light amid the universal gloom, and beheld [the great work of] God; for the Scripture says : All the children of Israel had light in their dwellings ( Exod. x. 23), so the righteous shall shine among the sons of darkness, and in the midst of the thick shadow of death, and shall have so much the clearer power of vision, as they are delivered from the shadows of the body. But as for those who have not previously breathed that inspiring air, nor sought for the light of that day, and on whom, therefore, the Sun of Righteousness has not risen ; they shall pass from these shadows into deeper shadows still, so that those who are in darkness shall be in darkness still ; while those who see, shall see more and more.

10. To this may be applied, not unfitly, the words spoken by Our Lord, that whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance ; but whosoever hath not, fromhim shall be taken away even that he hath ( Matt. xiii. 12). Thus it is also in death : for new light is added to those who already see, while from those who do not see is taken away the little which they seemed to have. For in proportion as the one class see less and less, so do the other see more and more clearly, until the night of sighs receives the one, and the day of light and aspiration the other ; and these are the two extremes ; that is, total blindness, and perfect sight. Then there will be nothing more to be taken away from those who have already been emptied of all, nor anything to be added to those who are filled ; unless, indeed, the latter may expect to receive something more even beyond fulness, according to the promise made to them by the Saviour : Good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom ( Luke vi. 38). Does it not appear to you that the vessel which runs over must be something more than full ? But you will hear calmly of this fulness superabounding, when you remember that you have read : [The Lord shall reign] for ever and beyond (Exod. xv. 18). He then shall be the increase and crown of the day of aspiration. That day shall add, I say, to the measure of the fulness inspired, as to the abundance of the day inspiring ; working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, so that the superabounding addition of honour should redound upon bodies also. For this cause it is, and to signify this, that the Holy Spirit has said, not ' spirans, ' but ' aspirans, ' adding the proposition ' ad, because those whom that day enlightens inwardly, it also adorns outwardly, and clothes them with a robe of glory.

11. I believe that will be sufficient by way of giving a reason for the word ' aspiring. ' And if you wish to know, the day of aspiration is the Saviour Himself, for whom we wait ; who shall change the body of our humility, that it may be fashioned like unto the Body of His glory ( Phil. iii. 20, 21). He is also the day of inspiration, and by His operation makes us to respire previously in the light which He inspires, so that we also may be in Him a day of respiration, inasmuch as our inward man is renewed from day to day, and is renewed in the spirit of its mind according to the likeness of Him who created it, becoming day from the day and light from the light. There are, then, two days, one succeeding the other, in us : the day of inspiration, which is for the life of the body, and that of respiration, which is the sanctification by grace ; and there remains a third, which shall be in the glory of the resurrection : it is manifest that the great mystery of the Divine goodness. which has been accomplished in the Head, shall be accomplished also sometime in the members of His Body, and the testimony of the prophet shall be fulfilled, who says : After two days will He revive us ; in the third day He will raise us up, and we shall live in His sight ; then shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord ( Hosea vi. 2, 3). It is He whom the Angels desire to contemplate, the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

WHAT ? He is but just now gone, and you call Him back ? What sudden need has arisen in so short a time ? Have you forgotten anything ? Yea, truly, the Bride has forgotten everything which is not He, even her own self. And though she is not devoid of reason, yet sometimes she seems for the moment to be deprived of it. Nor does it even appear that she retains in her feelings that modest self-restraint, which is always apparent in her actions. It is the violence of her love which occasions this. It is the same which in its triumph puts to silence every feeling of timidity, every consideration of fitness, or of deliberation ; it causes her even to neglect times and seasons. For, as you see, the Bridegroom has scarcely left her side, than she calls upon Him eagerly to return. She entreats him even to hasten, to run with all the speed of the swiftest animals, such as the roe or the young hart. This is the literal meaning of the words, and this is the portion of the Jews.

2. But I will, as far as I have received from the Lord, seek out the spirit and the life in the deep and mysterious meaning of the sacred text ; this is the portion which belongs to me, as a believer in Jesus Christ. Why should I not extract the sweet and salutary nourishment of the Spirit from the barren and tasteless mass of the letter, as I separate grain from chaff, the kernel from its shell, or marrow from the bone ? With this mere letter, which, when tasted, savours only of the flesh, and when swallowed, brings death, I do not desire to have anything to do, but only with that teaching from the Holy Ghost which is hidden in it. For as the Apostle declares, The Spirit speaketh in a mystery ( 1 Cor. xiv. 2 ) ; but Israel, in place of the mystery, which is veiled, takes the veil which covers the mystery. Why is this, except that a veil is still upon their heart ? Thus the literal meaning of the text is theirs, but its inner signification is mine ; and thus there is to them a ministration of death in the letter, but to me life in the Spirit. For it is the Spirit which quickeneth (John vi. 64), inasmuch as it gives understanding ; and is not understanding life ? Give me understanding and I shall live, is the Psalmist's prayer to the Lord. Understanding does not remain on the surface of things, it is not superficial, it does not handle the outside with uncertain touch, like a blind man ; but it penetrates to their depths, and often brings up from thence treasures of truth with eager grasp, as did the Psalmist when he said unto the Lord : I rejoice at Thy word as one thatfindeth great spoil (Ps. cxix. 144, 162). It is thus that the kingdom of truth suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force (Matt. xi. 12). But that elder brother in the Gospel (Luke xv. 25-30) who returned from the field is the type of that ancient and earthly-minded people which has learned to labour for an earthly heritage only, and groans with careworn and furrowed brow under the heavy yoke of the Law, which it bears throughout the burden and heat of the day. This people, I say, because it has no understanding, stands without even to the present time, and will not, even when invited by the Father, enter into the house of banqueting, thus depriving himself hitherto of any share in the music, and the dancing, and the fatted calf. Unhappy that he is, he refuses to make experience how good and joyful it is for brethren to dwell together in unity. All this has been said to show the distinction between the portion of the Church and that of the synagogue ; that the blindness of the one and the prudence of the other might be made more evident ; and the happiness of the one be made more plain by contrast with the pitiable folly of the other.

3. Let us now examine the words of the Bride, and endeavour so to expound the chaste sentiments of her sacred love, that there may appear nothing that is contrary to reason in the sacred text, nor anything importunate or unbecoming. And if we bear in mind that hour when the Lord Jesus (for He is the Bridegroom) passed from this world unto the Father (John xiii. 1), and at the same time the state of mind in which the Church, His newlywedded Bride, necessarily was when she saw herself deserted and left as a desolate widow, deprived of her only hope ( I refer to the Apostles who had left all and followed Him, and had continued with Him in His temptations) ; if, I say, we consider these things, it will appear to us, I think, that it is not unreasonable nor unaccountable that the Bride should be so inconsolable for His departure, nor so urgent for His return, when she is left so solitary and in such distress. The affection that she feels for Him, and the need that she has for Him, forms, then, a twofold reason for thus appealing to Him ; that since He cannot but ascend up where He was before, He will at least hasten His promised return. For that she desires and entreats that He would be like unto certain animals, and those the animals which are of greatest speed, is an indication of the eagerness of her desire, for which no return would be sufficiently prompt. Does she not ask for this daily when she prays, Thy kingdom come (Matt. vi. 10 ) ?

4. Yet I think that she desires to point not less significantly to weakness as well as to speed, and that as well of sex in the roe as of age in the young hart. She desires, then, as it seems to me, that when returning to judgment He should appear, not in the Form of God, but in that Human Form in which He was not only born, but born as a little Child, and born only from that female sex which is the weaker of the two. Why is this ? It is in order that from both the one and the other there may be a reminder to be gentle towards the weak even in the day of His wrath, and in the time of judgment to exalt mercy above judgment. For if He shall be strict to search out offences, who even of the elect shall stand in His presence (Ps. cxxx. 2) ? The stars are not pure in His sight, and in His Angels He finds pravity (Job iv. 18 ; xxv. 5). Listen, then, to him who is elect and holy ; hear what he says to God : Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. For this shall everyone that is godly pray unto Thee, in a time when Thou mayest be found ( Ps. xxxii. 5, 6) . Even the saints, therefore, need to entreat pardon for their sins, that they may be saved by the mercy of God, and must not trust in their own righteousness ; for all have sinned, and all need mercy. In order, then, that when He is angry He may remember mercy, the Bride entreats of Him to appear in the garb of mercy, that is, in the Form of which the Apostle says: Being found infashion as a man (Phil. ii . 7) .

5. And, indeed, it is very necessary for us that it should be thus ; for if, even with this moderating influence, so great is His equity in judgment, so awful the severity of the Judge, so lofty His majesty, and so changed the very appearance of all things, that, according to the Prophet, the day of His Coming does not bear to be thought upon (Mal. iii . 2 , Douay), what would it be, do you imagine, if He who is a consuming fire ( I mean the Almighty God) should come in all that immensity, and power, and purity of His Godhead, to put forth His power against a leaf (so to speak) which the wind driveth away, and to pursue the dry stubble (Job xiii. 25) ? He is Man also, and who, says the Prophet, shall behold Him ? Who shall stand when He appeareth ? (Mal. iii. 2). How much less, then, could any among men endure the sight if He should manifest Himself to us without His Humanity : as God, unapproachable in His Glory, unattainable in His loftiness, incomprehensible in the greatness of His Majesty ? But now, when His wrath is kindled but a little (Ps. ii. 12), how welcome and sweet towards the children of grace shall appear a glimpse of His Humanity ! How it shall be to them a confirmation of faith, a strength to their hope, an increase in their confidence, because His grace and mercy is with His saints, and He hath respect unto His chosen (Wisd. iv. 15) ! In fact, God the Father Himself hath given the power of judgment unto His Son ; and not because He is His Son, but because He is the Son of Man (John v. 27). Ο truly He is the Father of mercies ! He wills that men should be judged by a Man, in order that amid fear and apprehension of evils so great confidence might be given to the elect by the resemblance of nature. Holy David had predicted this formerly, in words which were equally a prayer and a prophecy : Give the King Thyjudgments, OLord: and Thy righteousness unto the King's son (Ps. lxxii. 1 ). Το the same effect is the promise made by the Angels to the Apostles when, after Jesus had been taken up into heaven, they spake to the latter thus : This sameJesus, which is taken upfrom you into heaven, shall so come, in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven (Acts i. 11 ) ; that is to say, in that very form and substance of body.

6. It is very clear, from all these things, that the Bride had a certain access to the Divine plan, and that she was not ignorant of the mystery of God's supreme Will, which [hath chosen] the weak and harmless things of the world ( 1 Cor. i. 27) ; inasmuch as she indicates, in the spirit of prophecy, and in the words of one who utters prayer, that the nature which is weaker, or rather that which is lower (for then it shall no longer be weak) , shall be set on high to judge ; insomuch that He who shall shake heaven and earth by His power, while girded with power against the sinful and impenitent, shall yet show Himself gentle and kind, and, as it were, harmless, towards the elect . To this it may be added that, in order to discern the one from the other, He will need not only, as it were, the agility of the roe, but the piercing sight of the hart, so as to be able to discern, in so vast a multitude, and at the moment of so great a change of condition, whom to fix upon, and whom to pass over, that He may not crush the righteous instead of the wicked, when He shall tread down the peoples in His wrath. For as to the wicked, it is necessary that the prophecy of David, or rather the word of the Lord speaking by his mouth, should be fulfilled ; that I will beat them small as the dust before the wind: Iwill cast them out as the clay in the streets ( Ps. xviii. 42, Vulg. ) ; and also that another word, which He had spoken before by another prophet, should be accomplished, when, returning towards the Angels, He shall say [of the wicked] : / have trampled on them in My indignation, and have trodden them down in My wrath (Is. lxiii. 3, Vulg. ) .

7. But if anyone thinks that it would be preferable to understand the words of the Bride in this sense, that our fawn should pass over the wicked, and choose out the good in His bounds, I do not contest this, provided that discrimination is understood to be thus made between the evil and the good. For, if I remember rightly, such was also the sense which I put upon the words when I was expounding this verse in a former discourse (Sermon LIV.). But there that One is said to leap as a fawn upon some, and to pass over others, according to the dispensation of grace, and by the secret, though just, judgment of God; while here it is according to the final and varying recompense of merits. And perhaps the last words of the verse, which I had, indeed, almost forgotten, may seem to support that sense ; for after having said, Be Thou, my Beloved, like a roe or a young hart, she adds, upon the mountains of Bethel. Now, in ' the House of the Lord ' (which is the meaning of the word Bethel) there are no mountains which are evil. Therefore the Bridegroom, leaping as a fawn upon them, does not crush and trample them, but causes them to rejoice, that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says : The mountains and the hills shall break out before God into singing. There are, indeed, mountains which, according to the Gospel, faith, though it be as a grain of mustard seed, is able to remove (Matt. xvii. 20), but these are not the mountains of Bethel : and whichsoever these latter are, faith does not at all remove them, but renders them fruitful.

8. If by the mountains of Bethel be meant the Principalities and Powers, and all other bands of the blessed Spirits, as it is of them that we are to understand what is said, Her foundations are upon the holy mountains (Ps. lxxxvii. 1 ), this One, who appears as a fawn upon mountains so excelling in dignity, is assuredly not of small account or to be despised, being made so much better than the Angels, as He hathby inheritance obtaineda more excellent Name than they ( Heb. i. 4). For what if we do read in a Psalm that He is made a little lower than the Angels (Ps. viii. 5) ? That He is in a lower place does not conflict at all with His being better than they ; nor have the Apostle and the Psalmist spoken in opposite senses, since they were animated by the same Spirit. For it was by His condescension, and not by any necessity, that He was made lower than the Angels ; and far from that rendering His goodness less, it, on the contrary, renders it greater. Nor does the Psalmist say that He is less than the Angels, but that He is rendered lower than they ; he extols the grace of His goodness without depreciating His greatness. For His Nature does not permit that He should be less than the Angels : and the cause of His being set below them explains and excuses that descent. He was, in fact, set below them by His own will, and on account of our necessity. Thus that abasement is but the effect of the compassion which He felt for us. What loss, then, is there by this humiliation ? For His clemency and goodness has gained whatsoever His dignity may seem to have lost. Nor has the Apostle passed over in silence this great mystery of such extreme goodness, but says : We seeJesus, who was made a little lower than the Angelsfor the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour ( Heb. ii. 9).

9. Let this suffice in explanation of the comparison which the Bride makes of the Bridegroom to a fawn, and to show that she does thereby no injury to His dignity. Why do I say without injury to His dignity, when not even His weakness has remained without honour ? He is [called] a fawn, He was a little Child. He is spoken of as like unto a roe, inasmuch as He was made of a woman : and yet He is upon the mountains of Bethel, yet He is made higher than the heavens (Heb. vii. 26). He does not say, ' who is ' or ' who exists' in the Heavens, but he says, made higher than the heavens, that it might not be thought that this was spoken of that Nature in which He is that which He is. But where he represents Him as preferred to the Angels, he does not say that He ' remains ' or ' exists, but that He is made better than they. From which it appears that not only according to that which He is from all eternity, but also according to that which He is in time, He is exalted far above all Principalities and Powers, and being the Firstborn of every creature, He is above every created being. Therefore the foolishness of God is wiser than men : and the weakness of God is stronger than men ( 1 Cor. i. 25). That the Apostle indeed asserts ; but it seems to me that it would not be wrong to extend the assertion to the strength and the wisdom of the Angels. So, then, the present passage may conveniently be applied to the universal Church.

10. Now, as far as relates to the individual soul (for even one soul, if it love God dearly, wisely, and with passion, is the Bride), whosoever is spiritual may notice in himself what his own experience teaches upon this subject. As for me, I do not fear to make known to you 1 In all the MSS. and in the earliest editions the reading here is ens ; but Horst and others have manens. Thus you have ens in Sermon LXXV. , n. 11 , for which the editors have inserted sedens. Yet here (Sermon LXXIII. 9) is read a little farther on in the MSS. , manens vel existens. the experience of this kind which God has deigned to bestow upon me. For although it may perhaps appear trifling and worthless when heard, that does not affect me at all, because he who is spiritual will not despise me, while he who is not so will not understand me. But let me reserve this subject to another sermon, and perhaps there will not be wanting some who will be edified by that which the Lord, in answer to prayers, shall deign to inspire me with. For He is the Bridegroom of the Church, JESUS CHRIST our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.

SHE says, Return. It is manifest that He, whom she thus recalls, is not present ; and yet that He had been present, not long before, since she seems to call Him back, in the moment of His departure. A recall which appears so untimely is a sign of the great love of the one, and of the great charm of the other. Who are they who are such followers after charity, whose affection is so devoted and so untiring, that it allows neither intermission nor rest in the pursuit of it ? I remember that I promised to apply this verse to the Word and to the soul ; but I confess that I have great need of the help of the WORD Himself in order that this may be done with ever so little an approach to a worthy treatment of the subject. Certainly this task would have befitted one who had more experience and a fuller knowledge of the secrets of Divine love than I ; but I cannot allow myself to be wanting in what my office requires of me, nor do I wish to refuse your earnest requests. I see the danger before me ; but you oblige me, so that I cannot avoid it. You oblige me (to use the words of the Psalmist) to exercise myself in great matters, and in things too high for me (Ps. cxxxi. 1 ). Alas ! I fear that it may be said to me : ' Wherefore dost thou relate My delights, and take My mysteries into thy mouth ? Yet listen to me, for though I tremble to speak, I am unable to be silent. Perhaps my apprehension itself will be an excuse for my boldness, especially if it tend to your edification ; and perhaps God will have regard to these tears also. Return, says the Bride. It is well. He departed ; He is recalled. Who shall discover to me the mystery of this mutability ? Who shall explain to me worthily the going and the returning of the Word ? Surely there cannot be inconstancy in the Bridegroom ? Whither can He go, or whence return, He who fills all things ? Or what movement locally in space can there be for Him who is Spirit ? Or what movement of any kind whatsoever can be attributed to Him who is God ? For He is absolutely immutable.

2. Let him comprehend these things who is capable of so doing. But let us in the exposition of this sacred and mystical discourse proceed carefully and with simplicity of purpose, and follow the example of the Scripture itself, which declares the hidden wisdom in our human words, indeed, but in a mystery ; and which, in order to make God known to our powers of apprehension, makes use of figurative language, and imparts to human minds those precious truths, the unknown and invisible things of God, by means of similitudes drawn from things apparent to the senses, and, so to speak, proffers the draught of truth in cups formed of a material of little value. Let us, then, follow the example of this discourse ; let us say that the Word of God, who is God, and the Bridegroom of the soul, comes and goes to and from the soul as it pleases Him, provided only that we bear in mind that these events take place by the inward sense of the soul, not by the movements of the Word. For example, when the soul feels the influence of grace, it recognises that the Word is present ; and when it does not feel this influence, it complains of His absence, and asks Him to return again, saying with the Psalmist : My heart said unto Thee, Thy Face, Lord, will I seek ( Ps. xxvii. 8). And how should the soul do otherwise than seek Him, inasmuch as when that Spouse so dearly loved by her is withdrawn, it is not possible for her, I do not say to wish for, but even to think of, any other. Nothing then remains to her but to seek Him earnestly when He is absent, to recall Him when He departs. Thus, then, the Word is recalled ; namely, by the earnest longing of the soul ; that is to say, of the soul which has once had the happiness to taste how sweet is His goodness. Is not an earnest desire a voice? It is indeed, and a powerful one. For the Lord, says the Psalmist, has heard the desire of the humble ( Ps. x. 17). When, then, the Word departs, the one and constant cry of the soul, its single desire, its one and continual demand, is as it were a constantly repeated Return, until He come.

3. Show me now a soul that the Bridegroom-Word is wont frequently to visit, to whom intimate knowledge of Him has given boldness, in whom tasting has caused hunger, and contempt for all things repose, and I shall instantly assign to it the voice and the name of Bride, and apply to it the words that we are here considering. Such is, in fact, she who is here introduced as speaking. For she gives sufficient proof, in recalling the Bridegroom, that she has merited His presence, although not the full abundance of His graces. For otherwise it would be a call, not a recall, that she would give. That it is here a recall is marked by the word Return, and perhaps He withdrew Himself for that very reason, that He might be recalled with the greater eagerness, and clasped the more firmly. For when He sometimes makes it appear that Hewoulddepart to a greater distance, it is not that He desires to do so, but to hear : Lord, abide with us, for it is towards evening, and the day is far spent ( Luke xxiv. 28, 29) . And, again, on another occasion, when He was walking on the sea, and the Apostles were in a boat and toiling hard in rowing, He made as though He would have passed by them, though He did not indeed desire to do so, but rather to prove their faith and draw forth their prayer. For as the Evangelist declares : They were troubled, and cried out, supposing that it had been a spirit (Mark vi. 49, 50). That pious simulation, or rather that salutary dispensation, which the Word, then in the body, sometimes made use of, the same Word, who is Spirit, does not cease to employ, but in a spiritual manner, with a soul that is devoted to Him. When He would pass away, He desires to be detained, and, when absent, to be recalled ; for He, who is the Word of God, is not irrevocable. He goes and returns according to His good pleasure, He visits a soul at the breaking of the day, and suddenly puts it to proof by withdrawing Himself. If He come into a soul, it is the effect of His free and spontaneous grace ; if He retire from it, it is similarly according to His will ; but both the one and the other depend upon His judgment, and of this He alone knows the ground and reason.

4. It is, then, quite evident that changes take place in the soul by the going and returning of the Word. For He says : Igo away, and come again to you (John xiv. 28) ; and again : Alittle while andye shall not see Me, and again a little while and ye shall see Me ( John xvi. 16) . O truly a little while ! but how long a little while may be ! O kind and loving Lord, how canst Thou call the time in which I do not behold Thee ' a little while ' ? Saving the deference due to my Lord's word, it seems to me a long time, and even excessively long. Yet each of these estimates is true, for it is short if our merits be con sidered, but long if measured by our desires and prayers. You have each of these senses in that saying of the Prophet : Though He tarry, wait for Him, because He shall surely come, He shall not tarry ( Hab. ii . 3). How can it be that He shall not tarry, and yet shall make delay, except that though He come with sufficient quickness, if our deservings be considered, He does not come quickly enough for our desires ? Now, the soul that loves the Lord is carried away by the fervour of its prayers, is led on by its eager longing, forgets altogether the smallness of its merits, shuts its eyes to the majesty of the Bridegroom, and opens them only to the happiness which it hopes to enjoy ; regards only His saving grace, and acts confidingly in that. Finally, without fear and without shame, it recalls the Word, and confidently asks for its former delights, calling Him with its habitual freedom, not Lord, but Beloved. Return, she says, my Beloved; and adds : Be Thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether. But of this more hereafter.

5. But now bear with my foolishness for a little. I wish to tell you, as I have promised, how such events have taken place in me. It is indeed a matter of no importance. But I put myself forward only that I may be of service to you, and if you derive any benefit I am consoled for my egotism ; if not, I shall have displayed my foolishness. I confess, then, though I say it in my foolishness, that the WORD has visited me, and even very often. But although He has frequently entered into my soul, I have never at any time been sensible of the precise moment of His coming. I have felt that He was present. I remember that He has been with me ; I have sometimes been able even to have a presentiment that He would come ; but never to feel His coming, nor His departure. For whence He came to enter my soul, or whither He went on quitting it, by what means He has made entrance or departure, I confess that I know not even to this day ; according to that which is said : Thou canstnot tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth ( John iii. 8). Nor is this strange, because it is to Him that the Psalmist has said in another place : Thyfootsteps are not known ( Ps. lxxvii. 19). It is not by the eyes that He enters, for He is without form or colour that they can discern ; nor by the ears, for His coming is without sound ; nor by the nostrils, for it is not with the air but with the mind that He is blended ; nor has He merely acted upon the air, but produced it (infecit, fecit) ; nor, again, does it enter by the mouth, not being of a nature to be eaten or drunk ; nor, lastly, is it capable of being traced by the touch, for it is intangible. By what avenue, then, has He entered ? Or perhaps the fact may be that He has not entered at all, nor indeed come at all from outside. For not one of these things belongs to outside. Yet it has not come from within me, for it is good, and I know that in me dwelleth no good thing (Rom. vii. 18). I have ascended higher than myself, and lo ! I have found the Word above me still . Mycuriosity has led me to descend below myself also, and yet I have found Him still at a lower depth. If I have looked without myself, I have found that He is beyond that which is outside of me ; and if within, He was at an inner depth still. And thus I have learned the truth of the words I had read : In Him we live and move and have our being (Acts xvii. 28) ; but blessed is the man in whom He is, who lives for Him, and is moved by Him.

6. You will ask, then, how, since the ways of His access are thus incapable of being traced, I could know that He was present ? But He is living and full of energy, and as soon as He has entered into me He has quickened my sleeping soul, has aroused and softened and goaded my heart, which was in a state of torpor, and hard as a stone. He has begun to pluck up and destroy, to plant and to build, to water the dry places, to illuminate the gloomy spots, to throw open those which were shut close, to inflame with warmth those which were cold, as also to straighten its crooked paths and make its rough places smooth, so that my soul might bless the Lord, and all that is within me praise His Holy Name. Thus, then, the Bridegroom-Word, though He has several times entered into me, has never made His coming apparent to my sight, hearing, or touch. It was not by His motions that He was recognised by me, nor could I tell by any of my senses that He had penetrated to the depths of my being. It was, as I have already said, only by the revived activity of my heart that I was enabled to recognise His Presence ; and to know the power of His sacred Presence by the sudden departure of vices and the strong restraint put upon all carnal affections. From the discovery and conviction of my secret faults I have had good reason to admire the depth of His wisdom ; His goodness and kindness have become known in the amendment, whatever it may amount to, of my life ; while in the reformation and renewal of the spirit of my mind, that is, of my inward man, I have perceived, in a certain degree, the excellency of the Divine beauty, and have been rapt in wonder and amazement at His greatness and majesty, as I meditated upon all these things.

7. But when the WORD withdrew Himself, all these spiritual powers and faculties began to droop and languish, as if the fire had been withdrawn from a bubbling pot; and this is to me the sign of His departure. Then my soul is necessarily sad and depressed until He shall return and my heart grow warm within me, as it is wont, which indeed is the indication to me that He has come back again. After having, then, such an experience of the happiness derived from the indwelling Word, what wonder that I should adopt for my own the language of the Bride, who recalls Him when He has departed, since I am influenced by a desire, not indeed as powerful, but at least similar to hers ? As long as I live that utterance shall be in my mind, and I will employ, for the recalling of the Word, that word of recall, which I find here in the word Return. And as often as He shall leave me, so often shall He be called back by my voice ; nor will I cease to send my cries, as it were, after Him as He departs, expressing my ardent desire that He should return, that He should restore to me the joy of His salvation, the life-giving Presence of Himself. I confess to you, my children, that I take pleasure in nothing else in the meantime, until He is present who is alone pleasing to me. And this I pray, that He will not return empty, but full of grace and truth (John i. 14) as it is His wont to do, and as He did yesterday and the day before it. In which it seems to me that He will be like unto a roe or a young hart, for His truth has the piercing eyes of the one, and His grace the joy and lightsomeness of the other.

8. Each of these is necessary to me : truth, that I may not be able to hide myself before Him ; and grace, that I may not desire to do so. If the one be not accompanied by the other, then either His severity is burdensome without His gladsomeness, or that may seem unmeasured without the gravity of the former, and thus the visitation of the WORD will be imperfect. For truth is bitter, if it be not seasoned with grace ; and the fervour of devotion is sometimes unmeasured and tends to lightness, if it be not restrained by the bond of truth. How many are there whom it has not profited to have received grace, because they have not accepted at the same time the regulating and restraining power of truth ? They have taken too much pleasure in the enjoyment of grace ; they have not sufficiently regarded the claims of truth ; they have not imitated the gravity (as it were) of the roe, but have given themselves wholly to the lightsomeness of the young hart. Thence it has come about that they have been deprived of the grace which they had desired to enjoy by itself, and it has been possible to say to them, but too late : Go ye and learn what that meaneth, Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling (Ps. ii . 11 ). For the holy soul which had said in its day of prosperity, Ishall never be moved ( Ps. xxx. 6), when it suddenly feels the Face of the Word turned away from it, is not only moved, but grievously troubled, and thus learns by its affliction that with the gift of piety and devotion, it has need also of the steadying weight of truth . Therefore the fulness of grace consists not in grace alone, but also not in truth alone. What does it profit you to know what you ought to do, if there is not bestowed upon you also the will to do it ? What does it profit you even to have the will, if you have not the ability ? How many have I known to whom the knowledge of the truth was a cause of added sorrow, because, as they knew what the Truth required of them, they could not find an excuse in their ignorance when they did not do it ?

9. This being the case, neither gift is sufficient without the other. Nor is this all, for it is not even an advantage to receive one without the other. How do we know this ? We learn it from the Scripture : To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin (James iv. 17) ; and, again : That servant, which knew his Lord's Will ... and did not according to His Will, shall be beaten with many stripes (Luke xii. 47). That is, as regards truth. Now, as regards grace, it is written : After the sop Satan entered into him (John xiii. 27). This speaks of Judas, who, after he had received a gift of grace, because he did not walk in truth and sincerity with the Master of truth, gave place in himself to the devil. Listen, again : Hefed them with the finest of the wheat, and with honey out of the rock He satisfied them.' Whom ? ' The enemies of the Lord have lied unto Him' (Ps. lxxxi. 16, 15). Those whom He had nourished with honey and with wheat lied unto Him and became His enemies, because they did not join truth to grace. Of whom it is said in another place : The children that are strangers have lied to me, strange children have faded away, and have halted in their path (Ps. xviii. 45, Douay) . How could they do otherwise than halt, seeing that they were content to support themselves on one foot, that of grace, and not to use the other, that is, of truth ? Therefore their time [of punishment] shall endure for ever (Ps. lxxxi. 15) with that of their prince, who also himself abode not in the truth, but was a liar from the beginning (John viii . 44), and therefore it was said to him : Thou hast corrupted thy wisdom by reason of thy beauty ( Ezek. xxviii. 17). I am unwilling to allow beauty in one who deprives me ofwisdom.

10. Do you inquire what is that beauty so dangerous and so hurtful ? It is the beauty which is thine. Perhaps you do not understand me when I say this, and I will put it in plainer language. It is the beauty which is of a personal and individual kind. We do not blame the gift of God, but the use which is made of it. For if you notice, it is not said that Lucifer lost wisdom by reason of beauty, but of his beauty. And if I do not mistake, the beauty of an angel is the same as that of a soul, that is, it is wisdom. For what is either the one or the other without wisdom, but a shapeless heap of unorganized matter ? But with wisdom, either is not only formed and organized, but is full of beauty. But when it is appropriated in a selfish manner, it is forthwith lost, so that when it is said that he has lost wisdom by reason of his beauty, it is meant that he lost wisdom by his own wisdom. For when it is thus appropriated it is instantly lost. Because he was wise in his own eyes, because he did not give the glory to God, because he did not render back grace for grace, because he did not walk in grace and use it according to truth, but abused it according to his own will ; that is the reason why he lost it, or rather that constitutes the loss of it. For to appropriate it thus is, in fact, to lose it. If Abraham, says the Apostle, were justified by works, he hath whereof to glory, but not before God (Rom. iv. 2). And thus it is with me. I am not in safety, because I have lost whatever I do not possess in God. What can there be, in fact, so completely lost as that which does not rest in God as its security ? What is death, but the deprivation of life ? And in the same way everlasting loss (perditio) is nothing else than alienation from God. Woe unto you who are wise in your own eyes, and prudent in your own sight ! (Is. v. 21 ) ; of you it is said : Iwill destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent ( 1 Cor. i. 19) . They have lost wisdom, because their wisdom has caused them to be lost. How could they help losing all who were themselves lost ? And how could those be otherwise than lost whom God knows not [as His own] ?

11. Assuredly the foolish virgins , which are not, as I think, otherwise foolish, than as, believing themselves to be wise, they became foolish, these, I say, are doomed to hear from God, Iknow you not (Matt. xxv. 12). And also those who assumed glory to themselves because of the grace [to work] miracles which had been bestowed upon them, shall, notwithstanding these wonderful works, hear the same declaration, I never knew you ( Matt. vii. 23). So that it is plainly evident, from all that has been said, that grace does not profit the individual when it is not accompanied by truth and sincerity of intention, but is rather a hindrance to him. Each of these is assuredly found in the Bridegroom. Grace and truth, says John the Baptist, came by Jesus Christ (John i. 17) . If, then, the Lord Jesus Christ (who is the Word of God, the Bridegroom of the soul) knocks at the GOD IS TO BE SOUGHT IN DUE TIME, door of my soul with only one of these two qualities, He will enter, not as Bridegroom, but as Judge. May God grant that this may never be the case with me ! May He not enter into judgment with His servant ! May He enter with peace, with joy and gladness ; yet may He enter with aspect grave and serious, so as by the severe gravity of His look to repress any forwardness in me, and to purify the joy which I feel. May He enter with the agility of the roe and the piercing sight of the hart, so, as it were, to leap over my offences and to view them only with pity and forgiveness. May He enter as if descending from the mountains of Bethel, full of glory and of joy ; as if coming forth from the Father, sweet, and full of goodness, so that He does not disdain to become and to be called the Bridegroom of the soul which seeks for Him : He who is above all, God blessed for ever. AMEN.