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           Title: Holy Wisdom: or, Directions for the Prayer of Contemplation
      Creator(s): Baker, Ven. F. Augustine (1575-1641)
     Print Basis: First published in this edition by London: Burns Oates &
                  Washbourne Ltd.
          Rights: Public Domain
   CCEL Subjects: All; Classic; Mysticism; Christian Life; Proofed
      LC Call no: BV5030
     LC Subjects:

                  Practical theology

                  Practical religion. The Christian life

                  Asceticism
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Holy Wisdom

Or

Directions for the Prayer of Contemplation

Extracted out of more than Forty Treatises

BY THE

VEN. FATHER F. AUGUSTINE BAKER

A MONK OF THE ENGLISH CONGREGATION OF THE
HOLY ORDER OF S. BENEDICT

METHODICALLY DIGESTED BY

R. F. SERENUS CRESSY

OF THE SAME ORDER AND CONGREGATION

AND NOW EDITED FROM THE DOUAY EDITION OF 1657 BY THE

RIGHT REV. ABBOT SWEENEY, D.D.

OF THE SAME ORDER AND CONGREGATION

LONDON
BURNS GATES & WASHBOURNE LTD

PUBLISHERS TO THE HOLY SEE
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   Title page facsimile
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  PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION.

   IF it is a duty to apply to holy books the practice which the Following
   of Christ bids us observe towards holy persons, not to dispute
   concerning the merits of the saints, as to who is more holy than
   another, or greater in the kingdom of heaven,' it will not be right to
   give the preference to the work which we are now offering in a new form
   to the public, over the many, spiritual books which have helped on
   souls in the way of perfection. But it will not be right either to give
   to other books a preference over this. Certainly Sancta Sophia has been
   of great service in instructing beginners, in guiding proficients, and
   in securing those that have arrived at some degree of perfection, in
   the way along which Almighty God has called and led souls that have
   been highly privileged; and the Holy Spirit, who breatheth where He
   will, has through the words of the Venerable Father Baker whispered to
   these souls, and has drawn them on to a closer and closer union with
   Himself. Ever since the time that I first became acquainted with the
   writings of Father Augustine Baker, either in the epitome of them in
   which Father Serenus Cressy has so successfully presented them in his
   compilation, to which he gave the appropriate name which this book
   bears, Sancta Sophia, Holy Wisdom, or in their extended and full form,
   as they exist in various portions in some of our convents, I felt the
   desire to enter upon the task, which by God's blessing I have at last
   completed, of republishing with necessary annotations this golden
   treasury. Why should it be kept in the dark when, by being set up
   aloft, it could shed such light around?

   Difficulties, which time has at last removed, have constantly been in
   my way. Duties of an imperative nature have ever attended me, and in
   the midst of them--though I have never lost sight of the task I had
   imposed upon myself--it has not been in my power to do more than a
   little at a time; and therefore the time has been long in proportion to
   the importance of the labour. In addition to reprinting the work, I
   felt that I ought to do two things,--to verify the quotations from the
   Fathers and spiritual writers, which are interspersed throughout the
   various treatises; and secondly to call attention to certain passages
   where explanation or even correction was demanded. The first of these
   tasks I have been compelled in great measure to abandon; the second,
   which is of greater importance, I have not neglected. But I must say a
   word upon both.

   The task of verifying quotations from the authors referred to in the
   writings of Father Baker has been, as is the case with regard to all
   similar works, an exceedingly difficult and a hopeless labour. I have
   spent hours upon hours and with very little success. I remember many
   years ago reading in a note in some edition of the Spiritual Exercises
   of St. Ignatius, [1] that the Scripture quotations of that holy Saint
   and great Master of the spiritual life are not always strictly correct;
   because it was evident the Saint quoted from memory, without referring
   on each occasion to the sacred text. Father Baker, in his reading of
   the Fathers and of spiritual writers, seems to have noted down at the
   time passages and words that struck him as bearing upon the subject on
   which he happened to be then engaged. And Father Cressy, in condensing
   the good Father's writings, cited the name, but without any reference
   to the special treatise; and thus in almost all instances no help is
   given towards a classical verification of the authority, upon which a
   truth or principle is confirmed by the writer. To verify passages,
   therefore, to which no reference whatever is given, is a very laborious
   task. But in cases in which it is important that the special reference
   should be pointed out, I have done my best with whatever assistance I
   have been able to command; and I trust that no question has been left
   unnoticed in which the authority has been really of importance. To
   verify every quotation would imply an expenditure of time which I have
   not, and never can expect to have, at my disposal. This difficulty I
   have especially felt in the case of the writings of Thaulerus, whose
   works, as far as I know them, are in very closely-printed volumes, with
   limited and imperfect indexes. However, I feel that this is not a
   matter of practical value, as the good persons into whose hands this
   edition of Sancta Sophia will fall, and who will make the most use of
   it, will probably have no opportunity or desire of referring to the
   original, even if every chapter and verse were carefully recorded.

   With regard to the second matter of explaining or even correcting
   certain passages, I hope I have not been negligent. The necessity of
   such explanations or corrections arises mainly from the circumstances
   of the period in which Father Baker wrote, and in which his writings
   were collected, condensed, and printed. Father Baker wrote his
   treatises and gave his instructions to the religious under his
   guidance, a short time before the Church was called on to pronounce on
   the doctrines of Quietism. The same difficulty, therefore, exists in
   regard to certain expressions of his, as exists with regard to the
   writings of the Ante-Nicene Fathers. Before the time in which the
   Church in the Council of Nicaea found it necessary to enter more fully
   into the definition of the terms of Substance, Nature, and Person, as
   predicated of the Mysteries of the Blessed Trinity and the Incarnation,
   expressions may have been sometimes used by perfectly orthodox
   theological writers, which were capable of a wrong interpretation. But
   when, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the Church defined with
   careful and logical precision what these sacred Mysteries implied in
   reference to the various terms used and required, with regard to unity
   of Substance and plurality of operations, a more exact terminology was
   strictly observed, in order that orthodoxy might be professed, and that
   through the sound word that cannot be blamed, he who is on the contrary
   part might be afraid, having no evil to say (Titus ii.8). If even St.
   Paul's own words, notwithstanding the inspiration under which he wrote,
   were wrested to destruction, no wonder that the words of faithful and
   wise theologians and martyrs were sometimes misinterpreted and wrenched
   into a defense of heresy. Father Baker, I have said, lived and wrote
   just before Quietism was condemned. For it was in the year 1687 that
   Pope Innocent XI. censured and pronounced sentence against the
   sixty-eight propositions of Molinos; and in 1699 Innocent XII.
   condemned the semi-Quietism of Madame Guyon and the illustrious
   Fenelon. Father Baker had already completed his labours, having gone to
   his reward in 1641, and Father Cressy in 1674.

   Certainly some parts of Sancta Sophia would have been omitted or
   expressed otherwise, had these two holy Fathers lived to witness the
   controversy and its issue. Care has been taken to call attention to
   these points. I hesitated for a time whether I ought not altogether to
   omit such parts; but upon deliberation and after taking counsel, I
   thought it better not to interfere with the original, but to make the
   correction, or give a necessary explanation, in a note. An instance
   will be found in treat. iii. sect. iii. chap. vii. in reference to the
   prayer of silence of Don Antonio de Rojas, which has been condemned by
   the Church; though the censure was not affixed to it during Father
   Baker's lifetime. That Father Baker was no Quietist and had no sympathy
   with Quietism is especially evident from the prayer of Acts, which he
   so fully explains and so warmly recommends in the third section of the
   third treatise. [2] And the collection of Acts at the end of the work
   is of itself an evidence how averse he was to the teaching of those,
   who, after Molinos, considered Contemplation to be a state of perfect
   inaction, in which the soul exercised none of its powers, and elicited
   no acts whatever, not even of hope, love, or desire; in other words
   that it was doing nothing at all, and therefore not praying nor
   adoring.

   Although it may be safely said that there is no fear nowadays from
   Quietism in any general effect, for the active spirit of the time is so
   opposed to it, and even the prevalence and increase of vocations to
   active rather than contemplative orders in the Church render such a
   danger very unlikely, yet there may be a risk in individual cases of
   souls being misguided, unless they are on their guard, and receive
   caution from their directors against this possible evil. I trust that
   the danger signals which will be erected, where it seems necessary,
   will remove every objection which has been at any time felt, about
   allowing the free use in religious communities of this most useful and
   solid work on Mystical Theology.

   A brief biography of the two good Fathers who have been respectively
   the author and compiler of the work will be appropriate. Some years
   ago, when I first undertook the task of preparing an edition of Sancta
   Sophia, I published a Life of Father Baker, [3] and appended to it an
   essay on the Spiritual Life, mainly grounded on the venerable Father's
   teaching. As that work is accessible, though I believe it is not very
   easy to procure, I shall limit myself at present to but a few details.

   David, known in religion by the name of Augustine, Baker was born in
   Abergavenny on the 9th of December 1575, of Protestant parents. He
   received his early education at Christ's Hospital in London, and at the
   age of fifteen went to the University of Oxford, and entered as a
   commoner at Broadgates' Hall, now known as Pembroke College. He
   remained at Oxford but two years, and then returned home to enter upon
   the study of the law under the instruction of an elder brother. This
   study he afterwards prosecuted with great attention in London, until
   upon his brother's death he once more returned to his native town. Here
   he worked under his father, who managed the estates of the Earl of
   Abergavenny. His religious education had not been attended to, and for
   a long time he seems to have led a thoughtless, though, from his own
   testimony, not a wicked life. But having been rescued by an
   extraordinary intervention of Providence from a most perilous position,
   in which his life was likely to be sacrificed, he entered into himself,
   and began to think seriously upon the affairs of his soul. He sought
   instruction at the hands of a Catholic priest, the Rev. Richard Floyd,
   was received into the Church, and abandoning the law he resolved to
   devote himself to the sacred ministry. He became acquainted with a
   Benedictine Father of the Cassinese Congregation, sought and obtained
   admission into the novitiate, and was clothed in the Abbey of St.
   Justina at Padua. He went through his year's probation; but being very
   much broken down in health he left Padua before taking his vows, and
   returned to England, where, having recovered his strength, he made his
   profession at the hands of some Italian Benedictine Fathers of the same
   Cassinese Congregation. He was then in the thirty-second year of his
   age.

   For some years, before being promoted to the priesthood, he was
   employed by his superiors in various employments, in which his legal
   and historical knowledge was of great service. He devoted himself very
   earnestly also to prayer and the exercises of the spiritual life; and
   although he made such progress by his earnestness and
   perseverance--sometimes for six hours at a time in prayer--as to have
   been rewarded by ecstasies, yet in his case the course even of such
   love did not run over-smoothly, and from time to time he seemed to fall
   back again from his advancement. All this was the working of the Divine
   Spirit, both to ground him more perfectly in humility, and to give him
   an experience which he was to use afterwards in the guidance of others.
   After an interval of twelve years he went over to Rheims, where he was
   ordained priest in the year 1619, in his forty-fifth year; and in the
   following year he was appointed chaplain to the family of Mr. Philip
   Fursden, in Devonshire. Here, in a life of great retirement, he pursued
   with steady constancy the spiritual exercises, and by recommending to
   all inquirers into the Catholic faith the duty of prayer, in order to
   obtain light and strength, he succeeded in gaining many converts to the
   Church.

   At this time the venerable Father's life was so thoroughly one of
   prayer, that he used sometimes to devote as many as eleven hours in the
   day to this holy practice. His health, however, was extremely delicate,
   and as he was threatened with consumption, he was ordered by his
   superiors to move to London, where it was hoped that occupation of a
   somewhat more active nature might be of advantage to him. He laboured,
   conjointly with Father Clement Reyner, in compiling the well known
   Apostolatus Benedictinorum, and began at that same period to write some
   of his spiritual treatises. He had to travel about to various parts of
   England and the Continent to consult documents, and at the same time
   that this change of occupation benefited his bodily health, it did not
   in the least interfere with his spiritual progress. He had now so
   perfectly grounded himself in the ascetical life, that no distractive
   employments could withdraw him from his habits of recollection. His
   life was hidden with Christ in God, and was what he himself so aptly
   calls such a life, a life of introversion.'

   In Christmas of the year 1623, Father Rudesind Barlow,
   President-General of the English Benedictine Congregation, founded a
   community of Benedictine nuns at Cambray, and in the following summer
   Father Baker was ordered to go and assist in training the young
   community in the ways of the spiritual life. Here he was in his true
   element; and the solid progress made by his disciples was a proof of
   his skill and success as a guide in these high paths. The two most
   noted amongst these holy souls were Dames Catherine Gascoigne and
   Gertrude More. The former of these was the most faithful and constant
   follower of Father Baker's instructions, and became herself so skilled
   in the practice of the duties of the Religious Life, that she was
   employed for some time by the Archbishop of Cambray in forming a
   convent in his diocese after the model of her own. She held the office
   of Abbess of Cambray from the fifth year of her profession, almost
   uninterruptedly till her death in 1676, two years after her jubilee in
   Religion. Her letter to Father Cressy prefixed to Sancta Sophia, and
   his answer prefixed to the third treatise, show what interest she, took
   and what part she bore in the drawing up of the instructions contained
   in this work. The other holy nun, Dame Gertrude More, a direct
   descendant of the martyred Lord Chancellor, was of a character more
   difficult to bring into that subjection to a spiritual guide, which
   seemed so natural to Dame Catherine Gascoigne. At first she refused the
   direction of Father Baker, and pursued a spiritual course of her own.
   But being one day vividly struck by a passage which he read to her from
   an ascetical work upon the exceptional guidance of souls in a state of
   aridity, she placed herself completely under his direction, and quickly
   advanced so far as to arrive at a very close union with God. Many of
   the Acts and Affections at the end of Sancta Sophia were found among
   her writings, gathered, it would appear, from Father Baker's
   suggestions. Her little work, called An Idiot's Devotions by herself,
   but by Father Baker more properly called Confessiones Amantis,
   expresses the spirit by which she was animated. She died young, it is
   said in the odour of sanctity, in the twenty-seventh year of her age in
   the year 1633.

   During the nine years that the venerable Father remained at Cambray, he
   drew up many of his ascetical treatises at the earnest request of the
   community, who were anxious to perpetuate instructions which had been
   of such immense value to themselves. Many of them are lost, but several
   are preserved, and may be found in manuscript in the libraries of
   Downside, Ampleforth, Stanbrook, and St. Benedict's Priory at Colwich.
   They are best known, however, through the form in which Father Cressy
   drew them up in the work which is now presented once more to the
   public. Father Baker remained nine years at Cambray, and then was
   removed to the Monastery of St. Gregory at Douai, and became a
   conventual. There he continued his wonted exercises, and devoted
   himself also to his writings. After about five years' sojourn he was
   again sent on the mission into England, being then in the sixty-third
   year of his age, in the year of our Lord 1638. At that time a summons
   to the English Mission was a summons to go forth to martyrdom; and
   notwithstanding his love for conventual life, and his deep sense of the
   responsibility attending the career of a missioner, he at once set
   about preparing for his departure. He started--after a painful
   farewell--from his convent; and, on arriving in England, divided his
   labours between London and Bedfordshire. He was sought after by the
   pursuivants who were at that time particularly active in bringing
   Catholic priests to judgment and to execution; and was obliged, old and
   feeble as he was, to fly, according to our Divine Lord's advice, from
   place to place, in order to avoid the persecution. But nothing
   interfered with his devotedness to prayer.

   The struggle between sickness and persecution, as to which was to
   conquer in his regard, went on for three years, and at last it was to
   end in 1641 in favour of sickness. The year 1641 was a fatal one for
   priests, but a rich one for martyrs. In that year Bishop Challoner
   enumerates eighteen priests who were condemned to death, and were
   either savagely executed or harassed to death in prison. Among them
   were two of Father Baker's confreres, Fathers Ambrose Barlow and
   Bartholomew Roe. He himself was on the point of being seized, when he
   was struck by a contagious fever, which scared away his pursuers.
   Though he did not actually die upon the scaffold, to which he was on
   the very point of being led, he may well be considered as a martyr. In
   concealment, and under the solicitous and affectionate care of a good
   Catholic matron--Mrs. Watson, mother of one of the nuns of Cambray--in
   constant prayer and acts of resignation, he resigned his soul unto the
   hands of his Creator on the 9th of August 1641, in the sixty-sixth year
   of his age and the thirty-seventh of his religious profession.
   Defunctus adhuc loquitur. Though dead, he continued to live, and has
   continued living ever since, in his spiritual writings; and it is to be
   hoped that his voice will be made to sound again, and be heard by a
   more numerous circle of hearers, through the means of the work which is
   now again going forth into the world.

   It was in the year 1657, sixteen years after this holy Father's death,
   that his friend and disciple, Father Serenus Cressy, published the
   useful compilation of his writings, under the name of Sancta Sophia.
   This Father, called in baptism Hugh Paulin, and in religion Serenus,
   was born at Wakefield, in Yorkshire, in the year 1605, the eventful
   year of Fawkes's Gunpowder Plot, and the same year in which Father
   Baker was clothed in the Abbey of St. Justina in Padua. He went to the
   University of Oxford at the early age of fourteen, and in the year
   1626, at the age of twenty-one, became Fellow of Merton. He received
   orders in the Church of England, and was appointed chaplain to Lord
   Wentworth, afterwards Earl of Strafford of noted memory. A little later
   he was chaplain to Lord Falkland; then he became Canon of Windsor, and
   afterwards Dean of Leighlin, in Ireland. He travelled as tutor to a
   young English nobleman, and in the year 1646 became a convert, and was
   received into the Church in Rome, where he happened to be at the time.
   Next year, being in Paris, he published his Exomologesis, or Motives of
   his Conversion, which he dedicated to the Carthusian Fathers of
   Nieuport in Flanders, whom he at one time thought of joining. However,
   owing to their very secluded mode of life, he was directed to turn
   towards an Order in which his literary capacity might be of greater
   service, and he joined the Benedictine Community of St. Gregory's at
   Douai, where he took his vows in April 1649. He remained as a
   conventual for some eight years, having, however, spent about one year
   of that time in Paris, with an affiliation community from Cambray. This
   house in Paris, placed under the protection of our Lady of Good Hope,
   is now existing in its worthy successors at St. Benedict's Priory,
   Colwich, near Stafford. He was afterwards sent out on the mission into
   the South Province in England; and upon the marriage of Charles II.
   with the Infanta of Portugal in 1662, he became one of her chaplains,
   and resided for four years at Somerset House. Here, besides discharging
   zealously and edifyingly the duties of the sacred ministry, he devoted
   much time to writing several learned books on controversial subjects.
   [4] During this time he was also engaged upon his great work, the
   Church History of Britanny, which he published at Rouen in 1668.

   Father Cressy was greatly esteemed by his religious brethren, and held
   among them several offices of trust and responsibility, and was for
   many years a member of the General Chapter. His last missionary
   appointment was to the chaplaincy of Richard Caryl, Esq., of East
   Grinstead, in Sussex, where he died the death of the just on the 10th
   of August 1674, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. It was towards the
   end of the time of his residence as a conventual at Douai, that he drew
   up these instructions from the writings of Father Baker, which in a
   dedicatory letter to Father Laurence Reyner, President-General of the
   English Benedictine Congregation, he declares to have drawn up and
   published in obedience to his command. Not obedience only, however, he
   adds, but gratitude urged him on in his work of love; for to these
   instructions he, in that same letter, attributes the hastening of his
   conversion to the faith, and his call to join the Benedictine Order.
   May God in His infinite mercy grant that these same words of wisdom and
   piety may bring grace and inspire resolution into many a hesitating
   soul, and tend to enlighten those that are sitting in darkness and in
   the shadow of death! Any one who has had the opportunity of reading any
   of the Treatises of Father Baker in their original form, will be able
   to testify to the industry required for compiling them, as Father
   Cressy has done, and for the fidelity with which the more than forty
   different Treatises have here been preserved and interpreted.

   It remains to make two or three observations in connexion with the
   teaching conveyed in the treasury of wisdom here laid open. Let me most
   earnestly recommend the reading of Father Cressy's Preface to the
   Reader, herein prefixed to the first Treatise. Possible objections are
   here anticipated and answered. Also I must invite very particular
   attention to the case of the holy Jesuit, Father Balthasar Alvarez,
   recorded in the 7th Chapter of Section 1, Treatise III., where we find
   a full and striking and most telling apology for the method of prayer,
   so strongly recommended by Father Baker. One great reason why so many
   break down in their attempts at arriving at perfection in the spiritual
   life is, because they are tied down too stiffly to the formal method of
   Discursive Prayer, and are not allowed free enough scope for the
   exercise of Acts and Affections. It is quite proper that upon the first
   entrance into the spiritual life, the soul should be well exercised in
   the use of the powers of the soul, and that the Understanding
   especially should be called into play. But to insist upon working the
   Understanding, even when the Will is ready at once to work, is not
   unlike insisting on the spelling of every word, or the parsing of every
   sentence, each time that we read a book or a newspaper. All our
   proficiency and skill would avail us nothing, if we were to be thus
   tied down; and the reading of books would indeed be anything but
   instructive and entertaining. Father Balthasar Alvarez, in the chapter
   just referred to, will be found to say: All internal discoursing with
   the understanding was to cease, whensoever God enabled souls to actuate
   purely by the will. And that to do otherwise would be as if one should
   be always preparing somewhat to eat, and yet afterwards refuse to taste
   that which is prepared. By this divine Prayer of the Will, the Holy
   Spirit of Wisdom with all the excellencies of it described in the Book
   of Wisdom (chap. viii.) is obtained, and with it perfect liberty.'

   Undoubtedly, as we have said, on the first entrance into the spiritual
   life it is important to attend to the instructions given upon
   Discursive Prayer, or ordinary Meditation. [5] But it is not to be
   understood that this method is to be rigidly adhered to throughout.
   When Almighty God calls the soul to the Prayer of Acts, and afterwards
   of Aspirations, the soul ought to be allowed liberty to obey and follow
   the call. It is quite true that we should not attempt to run, until we
   have become steady enough upon our feet to stand or walk. But it is
   equally true that if we content ourselves with only standing or
   walking, when there is occasion for greater speed and activity, we
   shall be outstripped by others, who have learnt that where the Spirit
   of the Lord is, there is liberty: who have heard the summons to work in
   the words: Why stand you here all the day idle? and have obeyed the
   command of the energetic St. Paul: So run that you may receive. For a
   great truth which Father Baker always keeps before us is, that we are
   not simply to satisfy ourselves that we devote a certain period each
   day to our mental prayer, but that we must aim at progress in Prayer,
   and that by becoming more practised and more perfect in that holy
   exercise, we may make corresponding progress in holiness of life, and
   ascending from virtue to virtue, may at last by closer union be allowed
   to see the God of gods in Sion.

   In the same manner as Father Rothaan, S.J., in his most practical and
   excellent instruction on the Method of Meditation,' gives an example
   how to meditate on an eternal truth, and works out the meditation, in
   order that it may serve as a model on which to work out others, so will
   I submit an example, how the Prayer of Acts may be exercised, according
   to the instructions given in Sancta Sophia. We will take the truth
   suggested by Father Rothaan: What doth it profit a man, if he gain the
   whole world, and lose his own soul! We must divide our Prayer into the
   ordinary divisions observed in meditation: 1. the Beginning; 2. the
   Body; 3. the Conclusion. In the BEGINNING we must, as usual, make our
   act of recollection of the Presence of God, pray for light, and by an
   act of sorrow remove sin, which obscures the soul, and then quiet the
   imagination, by picturing our Divine Lord standing before us, and
   addressing directly to us those words, which are His own.

   Then passing on to the BODY of the Prayer, instead of arguing with
   myself, I address my words in the form of Acts to Almighty God, or to
   our Divine Lord; observing, usually, a method in the Acts, beginning
   with the lower ones grounded on Faith, and progressing towards the
   higher ones of Confidence and Love. Thus may I pray. Faith. O my God, I
   believe these words, and I accept in my soul the great truth they
   express. Thou hast made my soul eternal, and therefore I fully see its
   immense value. The world may try to convince and persuade me through
   its false principles to follow it, and forget Thee; but to whom shall I
   go but to Thee who hast the words of eternal life? &c. Sorrow. O my
   Divine Jesus, how sorry am I that I have not hitherto felt this truth
   and acted up to it! Every time I have sinned I have denied this truth
   by my own willful act and deed. Never let me sin again, &c. Humility.
   But who am I, that I should pretend to make such a promise? I am weak
   by nature, and have weakened myself still more by sin. I am Thy child:
   do Thou save me. Lord, save me, or I perish, and I shall never gain the
   end for which alone Thou hast made me, &c. Supplication. Give me grace,
   O my most powerful and generous God, that I may ever live up to what I
   now feel; and if this day any temptation come upon me, do Thou cry out
   in my ears, and make me hear Thy words: What doth it profit, &c. Hope.
   Now I feel that I have more courage, because Thou hast promised to
   assist me in my struggle. I rely on Thy power and Thy fidelity; and
   though I have a great work to do in striving to save my soul, Thou
   canst and wilt help me, and then we shall succeed, &c. Confidence. Nay,
   O my God, I have more than hope: Certus sum. I am sure that Thou canst
   conquer all my enemies, and that Thou, in saving my soul, wilt save
   what is already Thine. Tuus sum ego, salvum me fac, &c. Love and
   Desire. Since I belong to Thee, O God, I value Thee far beyond all the
   world, and all that the world can give me. I desire to be dissolved,
   and to be with Thee, Thou God of my heart and my portion for ever. Woe
   that my sojourning is prolonged! Draw me to Thee, and help me to run in
   the way of Thy commandments, &c. Thus, the soul speaks to God, and is
   continually actuated towards Him. The lower Acts of Faith, Sorrow, &c.,
   will at first be more numerous, and will suggest themselves more
   readily than the higher ones of Confidence, Love, Resignation, and such
   like; but after a time these latter ones will prevail. At the end a
   devout, colloquy or address is made to God, and His blessing is humbly
   and fervently besought in behalf of all that the soul has been inspired
   to promise and resolve. A slow and patient perusal of the Exercises
   appended to this volume will facilitate the making of these Acts. And
   as the higher Acts become more easy and familiar, the soul will advance
   further in its union with God, and Prayer will become more affective. I
   may be allowed to refer the reader to what is said in the short
   Treatise upon the Spiritual Life, which I have appended to the Life of
   Father Baker, pp. 141, &c.

   I feel that it is not necessary for me to say anything more by way of
   Preface. But, submitting everything to the judgment of the Holy See, I
   now commend the work which I have prepared, to the blessing of God; and
   beg that He, from whom comes down every good and perfect gift, will
   bestow, in behalf of those who make a good use of these holy
   instructions, a fresh harvest of the fruit which was gathered in such
   abundance when Sancta Sophia first made its appearance, and guided so
   many souls to Perfection.

   J. NORBERT SWEENEY, O.S.B.

   St. John's Priory, Bath,
   Ash Wednesday, A.D. 1876.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [1] Seager's translation of Father Rothaan's Spiritual Exercises, p.
   142.

   [2] See especially treat. iii. sect. iii. chap. i. S: 19, where he
   cautions against cessation of prayer.

   [3] Life and Spirit of Father Augustine Baker, &c. London, 1861,
   Catholic Publishing Company.

   [4] See the list in Dodd. vol. iii. p. 308.

   [5] See Sancta Sophia, treat. iii. sect. ii. chap. ii.
     __________________________________________________________________

TO

OUR MOST REV. FATHER LAURENCE REYNER,

PRESIDENT GENERAL OF OUR HOLY CONGREGATION OF THE
ORDER OF ST. BENEDICT,

AND TO ALL OUR VERY REV. FATHER SUPERIORS IN THE SAME.

   VERY REV. FATHERS,

   Such being the distemper of this age, that only good books, and such as
   are most proper to cure in the very root its disorders, do stand in
   need of protection, you cannot in justice, as it seems to me, refuse
   yours to this, the composing and publishing whereof at this time was an
   effect of your V. R. Paternities' order and commands. Now those very
   commands, with so much advice and zeal unanimously made, are a very
   strong proof that this book (for as much as concerns the substantial
   doctrine therein contained) is such an one, so perfectly good and
   medicinal, as that I need not doubt, and indeed should be sorry, it
   should have any other fate than the hatred of all those who love
   darkness more than light. As for whatsoever faults may have happened
   through my want of skill in the compiling, I do not desire such patrons
   to them. Yet truly there hath not been wanting all the diligence and
   care that I was capable of, to provide that so excellent instructions
   should not be too much disparaged by the second copying and new fashion
   and dress upon them. The pains herein taken will appear to be not very
   ordinary to any one that shall consider how difficult a matter it is
   out of such a world of Treatises (written upon particular subjects for
   the special necessities and use of certain devout persons, without any
   eye or design in the author of affording materials for an entire body
   of spirituality) to frame such a body not at all defective, and with
   parts not unproportionable. Now I must confess that though conscience
   alone and duty to your VV. RR. Paternities would have had sufficient
   influence on me to prevent negligence, yet I had moreover one motive
   besides to heighten my diligence which was gratitude. For to the
   admiration and love of these excellent instructions I owe not only the
   hastening of my reconciliation to the Catholic Church (as on this very
   day, being the Vigil of the Feast of St. Mary Magdalene, in the Office
   of the Holy Inquisition at Rome), but also the happiness of being a
   member (though unworthy) of your holy congregation. It may
   notwithstanding fall out, that with all my endeavours I may fail of
   giving satisfaction in the point of art; but that I have not been
   wanting in the principal condition of faithfulness, besides the
   testimony of my own conscience, I have that also of persons learned and
   pious, to whom the writings of the venerable author have been perfectly
   known and familiar.

   It will doubtless seem strange to others, but not to your Paternity (V.
   R. F. President) that so perfect instructions for contemplation should
   proceed from one that had spent almost his whole life in the laborious
   employment of the Apostolic Mission. But your V. R. Paternity by
   experience knows that those who sincerely give themselves to seek
   Almighty God by pure spiritual prayer, whatever their employments be,
   will, without any prejudice to them, never want opportunities to meet
   and converse with Him in solitude. Now from such conversations it is
   that there do proceed from the Father of Lights such illustrations as
   not only give a splendour to the persons themselves, but by reflection
   also serve to guide others.

   The solitude that our Venerable Author enjoyed was, by his own
   election, among friends, penitents, and disciples. But God's Holy
   Spirit led your V. R. Paternity into a desert far more full of horror
   indeed, but withal far more instructive: a solitude of prisons and
   dungeons, among enemies to religion and humanity, where yet by the
   light and force not only of your learning, but also your devotion, &c.,
   you could found churches of converts.

   A more sufficient and proper patron, therefore, and judge, could not be
   found than your V. R. Paternity of instructions of this nature. So that
   from you it is that all others, your religious subjects, receiving
   them, will through God's grace daily with their increasing fervour, by
   their good practice and example, recommend them to others also.

   VV. RR. Fathers,

   Your VV. RR. Paternities' in all duty and service in our Lord,

   Br. SERENUS CRESSY.

   From my cell in the Convent of St. Gregory's
   in Doway, this 21st of July 1657.



   Nos, .F LAURENTIUS REYNER, Congregationis Anglicanae Ordinis S.
   Benedicti Praeses Generalis, visis testimoniis et approbationibus RR.
   PP. Congregationis nostrae, BENEDICTI STAPLETONI, S. Theologiae
   Doctoris et Definitoris dictae Congregationis, &c., et LEANDRI a S.
   Augustino S. Theologiae Professoris, &c., quibus cura examinandi librum
   quemdam Spiritualem Anglice scriptum, cui Titulus, Sancta Sophia, or
   Directions, &c., a nobis demandata fuerat: ad Dei honorem et gloriam,
   Ecclesiae Sanctae Catholicae bonum, animarumque, uti speramus, in
   sancto Dei amore profectum notabilem, ut dictus liber praeli beneficio
   mundo publicetur per praesentes licentiam damus.

   In cujus rei testimonium his subscripsimus, et sigillum nostrum
   apposuimus.

   Parisiis in Monasterio nostro S. Edmundi Regis et Martyris, in
   suburbiis S. Jacobi, Maii 4, A.D. 1657.

   Fr. LAURENTIUS REYNER, Praeses qui supra licet indignus.

   De Mandato R. Adm. P. Praesidis,

   Fr. AUGUSTINUS CONSTABLE, Secretarius.

   Locus sigilli.


   Legi diligenter Librum cui titulus Sancta Sophia. or Directions, &c.:
   Anglice scriptum: in eoque nihil reperi quod orthodoxae Fidei aut bonis
   moribus adversetur: Testor etiam nihil in hoc libro contineri praeter
   regulas et praecepta ad vitae contemplativae perfectionem ducentia: Ea
   vero tame doctrinae soliditate, perspicuitate, tamque insigni methodo
   tractari, ut non solum piissimi Auctoris Sanctitas, et in conductu
   Animarum ad perfectionis apicem peritia, necnon ipsius collectoris
   diligentia et styli nitor abunde comprobentur; verum etiam summo cum
   perfectioris vitae studiosorum fructu in lucem emittendum nullo modo
   dubitem. Insuper Auctoris mentem videtur adeo assecutus praefatus
   collector, ut qui in Auctoris doctrine suet versati genuinum illius
   foetum necessario agnoscere debeant.

   Datum in Monasterio nostro S. Gregorii, Duaci, 21 April A.D. 1657.

   Fr. BENEDICTUS STAPLETON, Sac. Theol. Doctor.


   Perlegi librum cui titulus Sancta Sophia, &c., Anglice scriptum
   testorque in eo nihil reperiri, quod orthodoxae Fidei aut bonis moribus
   adversetur; Rut quod ad statum, regimen, vel negotia cujusvis
   Reipublicae quovis modo pertineat. Sed unaquaeque paging solam pietatem
   Theoricam spirat, quam sublimi quidem, modestissime tamen ac tutissime
   via accurate docet; et a SS. Patrum vestigiis nunquam recedit. Ita
   testor.

   In Conventu nostro S. Greg. Duaci, 20 Apr. A.D. 1657.

   Fr. LEANDER A S. AUGUSTINO, S. Theol Professor
   in Collegio Vedastino, Duaci.


   Cum liber hie cui titulus Sancta Sophia, &c., Anglice scriptus
   diligenter perlectus fuerit ab eximio et R. Patre Benedicto Stapleton,
   S. Theologiae Doctore, et R. P. Leandro a S. Augustino, S. Theologiae
   in Collegio Vedastino Duaci Professor: iidemque idiomatis Anglicani
   optime periti fidem faciant nihil in eodem hoc libro reperiri, quod
   orthodoxae fidei, aut bonis moribus adversetur, vel quod ad statum,
   regimen, aut negotia cujusvis regni aut reipublicea quovis modo
   pertinet: sed solummodo contineri sanctissimas regulas, et solidissima
   praecepta ad vitae contemplativae perfectionem conducentia: ideo eundem
   hunc librum praelo dignum esse, et publici boni causa, in lucem emitti
   posse censui.

   Duaci, 28 Aprilis A.D. 1657.

   MARTINUS DENYS, S. Theol. Doctor, ejusdemque regius
   et ordinarius Duaci Professor.

   Idem censeo.

   NICOLAUS LE LONG, S. Theologiae Doctor, ejusdemque,
   et regius et ordinarius Professor.


   Many grave authors have written of this subject, but in my opinion none
   more clearly (and with such brevity) than the R. Father Augustine
   Baker, of the holy Order of St. Benedict, sometime spiritual director
   to the English Benedictine Dames at Cambray. Who in his several
   treatises abridged in this book, entitled Sancta Sophia, probably out
   of his own experience, hath methodically, solidly, clearly, and piously
   set forth such efficacious instructions for the attaining of true
   perfection, that all devout souls aspiring thereto, especially
   religious persons (whose daily practice of meditation and continual
   exercises tending to that end will, if well applied, much advance
   them), by their practice with great facility, may attain great
   perfection. Let them, therefore, read diligently the preface and first
   treatise, and practise exactly what is contained in the second; and I
   dare promise them by God's grace a happy progress in the third.

   Wherefore I judge the work worthy to be published, as containing
   nothing opposite to the doctrine of the Church; but on the contrary,
   very profitable rules and rare instructions of piety and true devotion.

   Given at Doway, in the Convent of the English Recollects, this 2d of
   July 1657.

   Br. ANGELUS FRANCIS, Lector Jubilate, and Episcopal
   Censurer of Books.


   I have read three treatises of that V. F. A. Baker, of an Internal
   Life, Mortification, and Prayer; and do approve and esteem of it as of
   a work that may much promote the perfection of a religious state and
   lead others to a competent reasonable participation of it, though
   living in the world. And, reader, if thou art seriously resolved to
   attempt this principal and main work of thy salvation, thou wilt find
   nothing to displease thee; but very many advices and instructions to
   advance thee in the way to perfection. But if spiritual conversation
   internally with Almighty God be either insipid or unsavoury to thy
   ill-affected palate, thou wilt easily find little straws, motes, or
   hairs to pick quarrel with, and cast away such food as this; and I wish
   thee to take heed, thou dost not cast more away.

   Given this 21st of July, in our English College of Doway, A.D. 1657.

   T. PRODGER, Prof. of Divinity.


   To the foregoing approbations I esteemed it much for my advantage to
   adjoin the following testimony of my sincerity and faithfulness in
   delivering the doctrine of our V. Author. The excellent person from
   whom the letter came will, I hope, pardon this publishing, without a
   commission from herself, what she privately directed to me; since it is
   done for the better recommendation of the doctrine so worthily esteemed
   by her.


  TO THE REV. F. SERENUS CRESSY.

   REVEREND FATHER,

   I must acknowledge the particular obligation that our convent hath to
   your R. P., for the great diligence you have used, and the very much
   labour you have bestowed in compiling the abridgment of our Venerable
   and dear Father Baker's works, so exactly conformable to the sense and
   meaning of the Author; and as we well know the pains you have taken in
   perusing seriously all his books several times, and in collecting the
   substance of each, digesting and reducing them into a most convenient
   order and method; and that you refused not to undergo the labour to go
   through all this a second time, to give the most full satisfaction in
   rendering your abridgment more entirely conformable to his writings in
   the very expression as much as might be; so we may very well believe
   that it hath pleased God to assist very much your unwearied industry,
   since not any that hath read your book, and is versed in the Author's
   works, hath found any objections to make either of anything wanting or
   differing from him; but all acknowledge that you have most faithfully,
   clearly, and substantially delivered his doctrine. We cannot,
   therefore, but hope God will be the reward of your fidelity, care, and
   pains, in a work so acceptable to Him, as we shall not fail to pray;
   and none shall esteem themselves more obliged to testify their
   gratitude than,

   R. Father,
   Your unworthy sister and servant,

   S. CATHARINE DE S. MARIA, Abbess Unworthy.

   Cambray, July 7th, 1657.
     __________________________________________________________________

  A PREFACE TO THE READER.

    The Sum of the Preface.

   1-8. Objections before and since the author's death made against the
   publishing of this doctrine.

   9-10. The first objection: Because the knowledge and practice of it
   belongs to few: answered.

   11-15. A second objection, viz. Because suspicion may be given to
   Catholics of pretending to new illuminations, prejudicial to the
   doctrine of faith and rules of life established in the Church: answered
   largely, and the contrary demonstrated.

   16-20. What illuminations are here meant, and how divine love, above
   all other things, doth most enlighten the soul.

   21-22. A third objection, viz. That sectaries will here take advantage
   to justify their frenzies and disorders.

   23-30. Four preparatory grounds laid for the clearer answering this
   objection.

   31-32. The said objection answered. Where is contrarily proved the
   necessity of publishing such doctrines, as the only means to discover
   and disprove the false illumination of sectaries.

   33-38. An exhortation to sectaries to observe the strange difference
   between their spirits and that of Catholics.

   39-46. An explanation of certain passages in the following treatises.

   47. A just request to the reader.

   48. A submission of all to the See Apostolic, &c.


   BELOVED CHRISTIAN READER,

   Before thou proceedest to partake of what is promised thee in the
   frontispiece of this book, thou art entreated to permit thyself to be
   detained awhile in the entry. For perhaps a short delay here will make
   thy progress afterwards both more speedy and profitable.

   2. This is to acquaint thee that the immaculate doctrine contained in
   this book, though it never met with any that opposed, or so much as
   questioned, the verities thereof, speculatively considered, yet there
   have not wanted some that have judged them not fit to be thus exposed
   to thy view, much doubting thou wouldst prove such an one as would make
   an ill use and perverse advantage from them.

   3. Now the principal, yea only, point that gives some this jealousy is
   that which thou wilt find in the Second Section of the First Treatise,
   where is treated touching divine illuminations, inspirations, impulses,
   and other secret operations of God's Holy Spirit in the hearts of
   internal lives. Concerning which the constant teaching of our Venerable
   Author (in brief) is this, viz. That the Divine Spirit, by virtue of
   the said operations, is to be acknowledged our only secure Guide and
   Master in these secret paths of divine love, discovered in some measure
   in the following treatises. And consequently that the most essential,
   universal duty to be aspired unto by every one that pretends a desire
   or intention to walk in the same paths is, to give up his soul and all
   his faculties to God's internal guidance and direction only,
   relinquishing and renouncing all other instructors and instructions, as
   far as they are not subordinately cooeperating with this our Divine
   Master, for the receiving of whose celestial influences, the humble and
   devout scholar is obliged to prepare and dispose himself by prayer,
   abstraction of life, &c.; in solitude hearkening to His voice and call,
   and learning how to distinguish it clearly from the voice and
   solicitations of human reason or corrupt nature; till that by long
   familiarity and conversation with God, divine love alone will so clear
   his spiritual sight, that he will see at last no other light, nor
   receive motion from any other, but God only; and this in all actions,
   omissions, and sufferings, though in themselves of the smallest
   importance.'

   4. This is our Venerable Author's doctrine, everywhere in all his
   treatises (whatever the subject be) inculcated, and even to the
   wearying of the readers, continually repeated and asserted. Indeed a
   doctrine it is so fundamental to all his other instructions concerning
   prayer and mortification, &c., that the least weakening of its
   authority renders all the rest unprofitable.

   5. But little reason there is to fear that a doctrine, which is the
   very soul of Christianity, can be shaken by human opposition, or
   disparaged by jealousy. True it is, notwithstanding, that though this
   fundamental verity receives testimony abundantly both from Scripture
   and universal tradition, though it be constantly asserted in the
   schools, and sprinkled everywhere in almost all mystical writers, yet
   scarce hath any one since the ancient fathers' times (especially St.
   Augustine) so purposely, largely, and earnestly recommended it to
   practice. And, therefore, no great wonder it is, if such a way of
   delivering it hath seemed a novelty, even to those that speculatively
   and in theory acknowledge it to be the established doctrine of the
   Church; and whilst they willingly, and with applause, hear it asserted
   daily in the schools, yet meeting with it thus popularly spread, they
   are offended with it; I mean with the communicating it to the use and
   practice of the unlearned.

   6. Now what it was that troubled them will appear from the only
   objection in the Author's lifetime made against it, which was indeed a
   mere jealousy, lest this doctrine so delivered should prejudice the
   authority of superiors. The which objection he answered to the full
   satisfaction of all that were interested in the matter. The sum of
   which answer follows in the ninth chapter of the second section of the
   first treatise, and needs not to be here repeated.

   7. But since his death, and especially after that, by a general
   unanimous agreement of all superiors among us, it had been ordained
   that the sum of the Author's spiritual doctrine should, for the good of
   souls aspiring to contemplation, be published; but the same objection
   hath been renewed, and others moreover added thereto. And all of them
   have risen from the like ground of jealousy, not so much acknowledged
   to be rational by the objectors themselves (who readily subscribe to
   the doctrine as Catholically true and holy) as feared from others; to
   wit, partly from ordinary not learned Catholics, who, it is suspected,
   will be suspicious of a doctrine that will seem new and, however,
   unproper to them; but principally from strangers and enemies to the
   Church, especially the frantic enthusiasts of this age, who, as is
   feared, will conceive their frenzies and disorders justified here.

   8. These things considered, both zeal to truth, duty to superiors, and
   charity to thee, beloved reader, obliged me before all other things to
   beseech thee to abstain from reading the book, unless it can be
   demonstrated beforehand that it was fit to come into thy hands; that
   the suspected inconveniences and suspicions are evidently groundless;
   that it would be a greater frenzy in the enthusiasts of these days, or
   in any seduced or seducing spirits, to claim any right in this doctrine
   than that which already possesses them; and, in a word, that no
   objections, either against the doctrine or publishing of it, either
   have, or, as we suppose, can rationally be devised, to make us repent
   the printing, or thee the reading, of the following book.

   9. Among the said objections this one is scarce worthy to find place,
   which yet by some hath been urged against the publishing to all
   Christians' view instructions about prayer and mystical practices
   proper to a few contemplative persons (for whom alone the Author
   intended them, without the least thought of having them communicated
   and exposed so generally): especially considering that this treatise
   discourses of sublime mystic matters, above the reach of vulgar
   capacities; and also, that whereas to such tender well-minded souls (as
   those were for whom the said treatises were meant) just liberty and
   condescendence were allowed in many cases, not to be permitted to
   others that either in the world, or else in a religious life, do walk
   in other ways; these, notwithstanding, will be apt to their own
   prejudice to make use of such liberty.

   10. But surely, as it would be most unreasonable to forbid a physician
   to publish a book of remedies against some special diseases, for fear
   that some that are untouched of those diseases, or perhaps sick of the
   contrary, should hurt themselves with making use of medicines improper
   for them; or Molina the Carthusian to publish his excellent
   instructions for priests, lest lay persons should assume the privileges
   belonging to that sublime calling; or Alvarez de Paz to print his
   volumes about the duties and exercises of religious persons, because
   they are improper for seculars; so neither upon such grounds ought
   these instructions be hindered from being public. Neither ought any to
   fear lest ordinary Christians will foolishly apply to themselves the
   relaxations about confessions, &c., necessarily allowed to well-minded
   scrupulous souls that pursue contemplative ways in an abstracted life
   and solitude. Or that souls that live distracted, solicitous, active
   lives, as long as they live so, will judge themselves interested in the
   ways and exercises of internal contemplative livers. Or, in a word,
   that those who are yet but beginners, or have made but small
   proficiency in internal ways of the spirit, will be so foolishly
   presumptuous as to aspire to exercises more sublime than belong to
   them; the which they cannot do without receiving infinite prejudice by
   their indiscreet ambition. Add hereto, that on several occasions there
   have been used and inculcated in this book the best preventions,
   cautions, and provisions that possibly could be devised, against all
   misunderstanding and misapplication of any doctrines contained in it.
   To conclude, it may seem a sufficient safeguard for me to have herein
   the example of the V. R. F. A. C., [6] a person much esteemed for
   learning and piety, who hath not only published (in an additional
   treatise to The Conflict of the Soul) Instructions for Contemplation,
   but a great part of his Maxims (though brief) are very conformable to
   what is here expressed more largely.

   11. The special feared inconveniences that may arise from the
   publishing of this doctrine touching divine inspiration, do regard
   partly some that live in the communion of the Church; but principally
   such as are strangers and enemies thereto. As for the former, it is
   suspected, that by urging so seriously the duty of attending to and
   following divine inspirations, some even of the more sober Catholics
   will be apt to be jealous, that the teachers and practisers of such a
   doctrine will seem thereby to exempt themselves in many things from the
   ordinary jurisdiction of prelates and magistrates, pretending to
   extraordinary illuminations and commissions, and to walking in
   mirabilibus super se, &c., by which a prejudice and contempt also may
   be cast upon the common orders and rules concerning faith and good
   manners established in the Church.

   12. Now not to forestall what is copiously delivered in the second
   treatise (to wit, that due obedience to all kind of superiors is so far
   from being prejudiced by this doctrine, that it is only by this
   doctrine that it is perfectly established, and all possible suspicions,
   all imaginary cases to the contrary solved): hereto it is answered
   that, whereas it is said that by a pretending to divine illuminations,
   &c., a contempt may be cast upon the common doctrines and rules of
   faith and a good life, there is not the least ground for such an
   apprehension. For never did any spiritual mystic writer pretend to
   receive any new or formerly unknown lights or revelations in matters of
   faith, beyond what have been known and universally received in the
   Church. The lights which such persons by God's gracious visits receive
   being only a clearer sight of ordinary mysteries; the which produces in
   them a firmer assent unto them, a greater love of them, an abhorring of
   all novelties of doctrines, and a most fervent zeal to the unity and
   peace of the Church, and to the reducing of all unbelievers,
   misbelievers, and schismatics, into its bosom and communion.

   13. The like is to be said for the rules of practice, and a holy
   Christian conversation. They know no other but such as are common to
   all other Christians, which are revealed in the Gospel, and proposed by
   the pastors of God's Church in councils, and in the writings of the
   holy fathers. The only advantage that in this regard is pretended to,
   and acquired, by attending to divine inspirations, is a more perfect
   use and a more faithful application of the ordinary precepts of
   holiness, or of counsels of perfection, to those who profess the
   embracing of such counsels: an extending of them further, and to more
   particulars, than it is possible to be taught by books or attained by
   study.

   14. All Christians know that to blaspheme, to lie, to defraud, to be
   rebellious, unchaste, revengeful, &c., are sins odious to God; and that
   the contrary virtues are to be practised. Yea, moreover, they know that
   we are obliged to love God with all our heart, with all our soul, and
   with all our strength; that we ought in all things to intend His love
   and honour, &c. Moreover, all know that besides the essentially
   necessary Christian duties, there are other counsels of perfection,
   which belong to those upon whom God hath bestowed an extraordinary
   vocation and grace, enabling them to cast from them all secular
   anxieties and other impediments to perfect charity, and to put
   themselves in a condition of solitude, obedience, &c.; the which
   affords them the best expedients and helps for the increasing of divine
   love and conformity to His will, even in the smallest matters. All this
   in gross is known to all Christians of any reasonable capacity and good
   education.

   15. But yet the wisest, the most subtle and learned Christians will
   never be able, by any human endeavours of study or meditation, to put
   in practice even those essential precepts after a perfect manner; that
   is, with an intention not only right, but also pure and deiform. And
   much less will they by such weak helps, be enabled to discern in a
   thousand particular cases and circumstances what is most perfect, most
   acceptable to God, and conformable to His divine will. As for example:
   1. How when two good or indifferent things are proposed, to make choice
   or preference of that which, in the present disposition of the soul,
   will prove most advantageous to perfection. 2. How to spiritualise even
   the ordinary indifferent occurrences of our life, daily and hourly. 3.
   How to perceive what manner and degree of prayer is most proper and
   profitable to the soul in her present state. 4. Or what mortifications
   are in the present circumstances most advantageous. 5. Or how to
   discern the state, inclinations, and spiritual necessities of other
   souls committed to our charge. 6. Or lastly, to discover a thousand
   secret subtleties, close interests, and reservations of our corrupt
   nature, which mingle themselves, more or less, almost in all our best
   actions, &c. In these and a thousand like cases, not all the reading or
   study in the world will enable souls to carry themselves perfectly in
   the execution of those precepts or counsels, which in gross all know to
   be necessary, at least to the attaining to perfection. But a distinct
   actual supernatural light and grace is necessary; and this not to teach
   us new precepts or furnish us with new counsels, but circumstantially
   to apply those which are common and universally known. For want of
   which light it is that the true way to perfection is almost unknown,
   even to those who profess the seeking of perfection, and fill the world
   with books and instructions about it.

   16. By what other means, then, is such light to be had? Surely by no
   other but by the exercise of divine love, which is most perfectly
   performed in internal prayer, in attention to and union with God in
   spirit. What an expert, persuading, and subtle master love is, beyond
   study or consideration, we see even in natural and secular businesses.
   One that is immersed in sensual love to any person, has no need of
   instructions or books to teach him the art of loving. We see how
   skilful on a sudden such an one becomes in the ways how to please the
   person beloved. He loses not, neither out of ignorance nor negligence,
   the least opportunity to ingratiate himself. He understands the mind
   and intention of the other by the least signs; the motion of a hand,
   the cast of an eye is sufficient to inform him, and set him on work to
   attempt anything, or procure anything that may content the party. The
   like subtlety and perspicacity we may see in those earthy souls which
   cleave with an earnest affection unto riches. What subtle ways do they
   find out to increase their wealth! Such trifling inconsiderable things
   they make use of for that purpose, as another would not take notice of,
   or could not see how to make profit by them. They have almost a
   prophetical spirit to foresee dangers where none are, and advantages
   probable or possible to happen many years after.

   17. Now how comes it to pass that the eyes of love are so
   quick-sighted? Surely by this: that where love to any particular object
   is predominant, it subdues all other affections to all other objects,
   which would distract the thoughts, and seduce the will from
   contemplating and adhering to the thing so beloved.

   18. Upon such grounds, therefore, as these it is, that St. Augustine
   calls Divine Love (Luminosissimam Charitatem) most full of light, and
   most enlightening. For a soul that truly loves God with a love worthy
   of Him, having the mind cleared from all strange images, and the will
   purified from all strange affections, is thereby enabled purely to
   contemplate God without any distraction at all. And being desirous in
   all things to please Him, knows how to make advantage of all
   occurrences. Light and darkness, consolations and desolations, pains
   and pleasures, all these contribute to the advancing of this love. Yea,
   there is nothing so indifferent, or, in its own nature, so
   inconsiderable, but that such a soul can perceive how use may be made
   of it to please God thereby.

   19. Now since pure love is exercised immediately to God only in pure
   prayer, by which alone the spirit is united to Him, hence it is that
   prayer is the only efficacious instrument to obtain supernatural light,
   according to the saying of David: Accedite ad Deum, et illuminamini:
   Approach unto God (by prayer), and (ye shall) be enlightened. [7] And
   hence also it is, that the same holy prophet so earnestly and
   frequently (above twenty times in one Psalm, 118) prays for such light
   to understand and discover the wonderful things of God's Law. And what
   were those wonderful things? Surely not to be informed that murder and
   adultery were sins; or generally that God was to be loved with the
   whole soul; for much more knowledge he had than this before he prayed.
   But being desirous to give himself wholly to God, and to perform His
   will alone in all things, he so often makes use of prayer for the
   obtaining an extraordinary light (to be had no other way but by prayer)
   that he might thereby be enabled to discover and find out the Divine
   Will in all manner of cases and doubtful circumstances.

   20. Now only such inspirations and such illuminations as these do
   spiritual persons pretend to by the means of prayer and attending to
   God. And if they do exercise prayer with a due fervour and constancy,
   these they shall most certainly enjoy, and that in such a measure that
   whereas the greatest part of ordinary good Christians are so
   dim-sighted as to see the Divine Will only in circumstances where there
   is a necessary obligation (so that they spend the far greatest part of
   their lives in actions that do no way advance them in Divine Love,
   being wrought chiefly in virtue of the principle of self-love and
   interests of nature), those that are perfectly internal livers, being
   clouded by no vain images, and distracted by no inferior affections, do
   see the Divine Will clearly in the minutest affairs, which they
   accordingly make advantage of to improve themselves in the love of God.
   And, according to the degrees of love, so proportionably are the
   degrees of light. And thus, I suppose, the pretended inconveniences
   suspected to flow from the publishing of this doctrine will appear to
   be only pretended and causelessly feared.

   21. But the other objection at first sight seems more considerable, as
   implying a far greater and more certain inconvenience and danger that
   may ensue upon the publishing of this doctrine concerning divine
   inspirations, illuminations, and calls. For thus they argue. It is to
   be feared that the fanatic sectaries which now swarm in England more
   than ever, will be ready to take advantage from hence to justify all
   their frenzies and disorders; all which they impute with all confidence
   to divine inspirations, illuminations, and impulses. For can we forbid
   them to practise what we ourselves teach to be a Christian duty? And
   yet it is apparent what fearful and execrable effects the practice of
   this pretended duty doth produce among them. It was by inspiration, say
   they, that their progenitors did break out of the Church; and by
   inspiration they do still introduce endlessly new fancies and
   practices. It is by inspiration that they endanger the ruin of
   Christianity itself by infinite schisms and pestilent reformations. It
   is by inspiration that they employ the Gospel to destroy the Gospel;
   from thence preaching heresies in churches and chambers, sedition in
   states, rebellion against princes and prelates; so destroying all
   order, unity, and peace everywhere. These things considered, what can
   be more reasonable than that we should take heed how we furnish them
   thus with arms to maintain themselves, and to fight against God and His
   Church?

   22. This is the objection which, though it have a fearful show, yet,
   being well examined, it will prove no less weakly grounded than the
   former. For the demonstrating, therefore, of the inconsequence of it, I
   will, by way of preparation, lay down these following undeniable
   principles, briefly mentioned before, viz.

   23. First, that divine inspirations are so absolutely necessary in
   precepts for the avoiding of sin, and in counsels for the gaining of
   perfection, that without them no action of ours can be good or
   meritorious. Yea, the duties of obligation which we perform, or
   counsels of perfection freely obeyed by us, are only so far acceptable
   to God as they proceed from His inspirations and motions of His Holy
   Spirit. This is not only an undoubted verity, but one of the most
   fundamental verities of the Christian religion, which attributes all
   good in us to the Divine Grace. And what is grace but the divine
   inspiration of love spread abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, as
   St. Augustine saith? To this verity give evident witness those
   expressions of the Church in her public devotions Da, Domine, famulis
   tuis, ut quae a te jussa agnovimus, implere coelesti inspiratione
   valeamus;' that is, Grant, O Lord, unto Thy servants, that those things
   which we acknowledge to have been commanded by Thee, we may, by Thy
   heavenly inspiration, accomplish.' And again: Auge populi tui vota
   placatus; quia in nullo fidelium nisi ex tua inspiratione proveniunt
   quarumlibet incrementa virtutum;' that is, Increase in mercy, O Lord,
   the desires of Thy servants; for not the least progress in any virtues
   can be made by any of Thy faithful servants by any other means, but
   only by Thy (divine) inspirations.'

   24. The second ground is consequent on the former, viz. that since such
   absolute necessity there is of divine inspirations, the necessity
   obliging us to correspond unto them is, and must needs be, equal. For,
   from no other root, but the neglect of this obligation, doth or can
   proceed all our mischief. The guilt of such neglect is so much the
   greater inasmuch as the gift of God's Holy Spirit imprinted in the
   hearts of His servants is of such an active nature that, were it not
   that the spirit of corrupt nature, cherished by us, doth deafen its
   call and weaken its efficacy, it would continually, being wakened by
   every occasion, incite us to love God only, and to raise up our souls
   to Him. Now by such neglect, we are said in Holy Scriptures to
   contristate the Holy Ghost; and by oft contristating Him we shall, in
   the end, come to quench Him. And the first indignation of God against
   such negligent despisers of His holy inspirations and calls is
   powerfully expressed in those words of his: Quia vocavi et renuistis,
   &c.: Because I have called, and ye refused, I stretched forth My hand,
   and there was none that regarded, I also will laugh at your
   destruction, and I will mock when that which ye did fear shall happen
   unto you, &c. Then shall they call on Me, and I will not hear: they
   shall rise early, and they shall not find Me (Prov. i. 24-28). Now
   though it be not indeed a mortal sin to resist the motion of the Divine
   Spirit inciting us to actions which are not of essential obligation,
   yet so doing we do contristate God's Spirit, and more indispose
   ourselves afterwards to observe and follow its directions. And mortal
   sins are seldom rushed into upon the sudden: they begin with lesser
   resistances, by which the mind is more obscured and less capable to
   obey it in greater matters. But as for perfect souls, they are in
   continual attendance and obedience thereto, being in continual prayer,
   or in good works and exercises begun and performed in virtue of prayer,
   and also accompanied by prayer.

   25. The third preparatory ground follows, which is this: that since
   these so necessary internal inspirations must necessarily be hearkened
   to and corresponded with, and since there may be false suggestions,
   either of the devil or of our corrupt nature, which may counterfeit or
   subtly pretend to a divine original, therefore it is necessary that
   some possible, yea satisfactory, means should be afforded how to
   distinguish between true and false inspirations. For otherwise we shall
   have an impossible obligation to obey we know not whom, nor what. We
   shall be in as much danger to be actuated by the devil, and used as
   instruments of his illusions, as of the saving influxes of God's Holy
   Spirit; and consequently shall not be able to distinguish the way
   between heaven and hell.

   26. Neither will it suffice to say, that we do sufficiently perform
   God's will when we perform the commands of God expressed clearly in
   Scripture, likewise the precepts of the Church, and of all our lawful
   superiors. For neither will the doing of these things without an
   interior influx of grace avail us, since the devil can be content, yea
   will suggest the exercise of the greatest virtues to hearts which he
   knows will intend only the satisfaction of natural pride, or the
   interests of self-love, in them. And, besides, neither can any of these
   external rules extend to all our actions, so as to regulate them in
   order to contemplation and perfection.

   27. The fourth and last ground to be premised is this: that since it is
   necessary to be enabled to distinguish the true inspirations of God
   from the false suggestions of our enemy, the only means imaginable that
   can be proper, natural, and efficacious to obtain such a supernatural
   light to discern God's will in all things is pure spiritual prayer
   exercised by a soul living an abstracted, internal, recollected life,
   spent in a continual attendance on God, &c.

   28. This is a way suitable to reason, conformable to Scriptures and the
   doctrine of the holy fathers, and delivered both by ancient and modern
   mystic authors, as might copiously be demonstrated if there were any
   cause to think, that to pray perfectly, and by prayer to obtain divine
   grace, were suspicious exercises to any. In a word, this is a way, the
   which practised according to the instructions here delivered, all
   manner of good and no possible inconvenience can flow from it.

   29. Here is no pretending to new or strange revelations: no walking in
   mirabilibus super se: no zealous seditious reformations, nor the least
   prejudice done or intended to peace, unity, humility, obedience, or any
   other divine virtue. Yea, on the contrary, all these heavenly graces
   are hereby not only fortified and increased, but by no other means can
   be perfectly obtained.

   30. And indeed, since in a world of passages in Holy Scriptures we find
   ourselves obliged to a double duty, the one whereof perhaps in popular
   judgments seems to entrench upon the other, and yet neither of them is
   in due place and circumstances to be omitted, namely, obedience both to
   God's Holy Spirit inwardly directing, and also to superior outwardly
   commanding; by what other way can we reconcile such seemingly different
   and, as it may fall out, contrary precepts, but by joining this
   doctrine to that concerning outward obedience? Which is here done, and
   done without the least prejudice to either; yea manifestly to the
   advantage of both in their due circumstances. If, then, for any outward
   carnal respects, we shall conceal or discountenance this most necessary
   duty of following the inspirations of God, we shall efface the proper
   character of God's servants, who are said to be such as are led by the
   Spirit of God, [8] and that by the unction are taught in all things.
   [9] Again, if, on pretence of following inspirations and internal
   lights which cannot be so absolutely certain, we shall transgress the
   most evident certain commands of lawful superiors, which are,
   therefore, God's also, there would quickly follow an end of all order,
   peace, and government. What other means, therefore, is left to comply
   with both these, but to obey God both ways; that is, commanding most
   certainly when His will is revealed by superiors; and also very
   securely when, in other internal things, or which tend to perfection,
   without the least wrong, yea to the great advantage of superiors, He
   doth communicate His light and directions to us? So as that saying of
   the Apostles with which they silenced the whole Jewish Sanhedrim,
   namely, that God is rather to be obeyed than man, [10] commanding
   contrary to God, holds only when it can evidently be demonstrated (as
   the Apostles then did by miracles) that such a command did indeed come
   from God, or that the thing commanded by man is certainly unlawful.

   31. These things considered, in all reason we ought to be so far from
   being deterred from publishing such instructions as these, because
   forsooth the frantic spirits of this age do falsely make pretended
   inspirations the cause and ground of all the miseries and mischiefs of
   late happening in our nation, &c., that for this very reason and motive
   every one ought to publish such wholesome doctrines, the which are the
   only possible means to undeceive them. For what other way does there
   remain to convince them of their errors and seductions, dangerous to
   all mankind, but most certainly pernicious to their own souls? Shall we
   tell them that there are no inspirations at all? We shall, in so doing,
   betray the Christian religion. Shall we say, though there be
   inspirations, yet they are never to be marked, never obeyed nor
   complied withal? Besides the ridiculous falseness of the assertion,
   which will expose us to their most just contempt and hatred, they will
   overwhelm us with unanswerable texts of Scripture and passages from the
   holy fathers. What other thing then can be done, but that
   (acknowledging both that there are inspirations, and that we are
   obliged to correspond unto them) we should inform those unhappy souls
   how to dispose themselves so as to be out of danger of diabolical
   illusions, and to be in a capacity of receiving inspirations truly
   divine? As likewise with what caution and prudence, but withal with
   what fidelity, they ought to comply with them. But especially we ought
   to demonstrate and inculcate this fundamental verity, that the general
   and most certain precepts of humility, obedience, unity, and peace must
   never receive any prejudice by any pretended inspirations or
   illuminations; since those which are truly from God do establish and
   increase all these virtues; yea, that the external order, authority,
   and subordination established by God in His Church (by which alone it
   becomes one body, and not a monstrous heap of unlike, unproportionable
   members, fighting with and devouring one another) must be the rule by
   which to examine, and the judge to pronounce sentence for or against
   all manner of inspirations.

   32. Therefore, instead of a human fruitless policy of hiding such
   divine fundamental practical truths as these, let us sincerely,
   faithfully, and plentifully teach them. And though it can never be
   prevented but that the devil will suggest to proud, ambitious,
   covetous, or sensual spirits to draw poison from the most perfect
   doctrines of Catholic Faith, yet then at least he and they will be the
   less able to seduce well-meaning souls to join with them; yea, by God's
   grace and benediction upon His truth faithfully taught, they will lose
   many such already seduced, when all their pretended lights being
   confronted before the Sun of divine verity and holiness, will either
   vanish quite away, or manifestly discover themselves to be the
   sulphurous gloomy lights of such wandering falling stars as are
   mentioned by St. Jude, to whom the tempest of darkness is reserved for
   ever. [11]

   33. Oh, therefore, that it were God's blessed will that they would be
   persuaded to examine themselves and their instincts by such characters,
   such signs so manifestly Christian, holy, perfect, and secure as are
   here contained in this treatise, and accordingly judge of their and our
   inspirations! 1. In the first place, here the only proper disposition
   towards the receiving of supernatural irradiations from God's Holy
   Spirit is an abstraction of life, a sequestration from all businesses
   that concern others, and an attendance to God alone in the depth of the
   spirit; whereas their lights never come more frequently than when
   either being alone they yield to discontented, unquiet passions and
   murmurings about the behaviour and actions of others; or, when in close
   meetings and conspiracies, they vent such passions by invectives
   against the governors of the Church or State. 2. The lights here
   desired and prayed for are such as do expel all images of creatures,
   and do calm all manner of passions, to the end that the soul, being in
   a vacuity, may be more capable of receiving and entertaining God in the
   pure fund of the spirit. Whereas their lights fill them with all
   tumultuous disquieting images and phantasms concerning the supposed
   miscarriages of all others but themselves: and not only heighten their
   passions, but urge them to most terrible desolating effects. 3. The
   prayer here acknowledged to be the most effectual instrument to procure
   divine light is a pure, recollected, intime prayer of the spirit.
   Whereas the prayer they glory in is only an acquired ability and
   sleight to talk earnestly to God before others, and oft thereby to
   communicate their passions and discontents to their brethren. 4. Here
   are no new speculative verities or revelations of mysteries pretended:
   no private newly-found-out interpretations of Scripture bragged of.
   Whereas amongst them every day produces a new fancy, which must gather
   new company. 5. Here the established order of God's Church, and the
   unity essential thereto, is not prejudiced. Yea, the inspirations
   expected and obtained by pure internal prayer do more firmly and
   unalterably fix souls under this obedience, and to this order and
   unity; insomuch as whatsoever pretended lights do endanger the
   dissolving of unity, or do cross lawful authority, or shall be rejected
   by it, they are presently suspected and extinguished. Whereas those
   men's lights teach them nothing so much as to contemn and oppose all
   external authority, and to dissipate unity, dispersing the body of
   Christianity into innumerable sects and conventicles. 6. Our lights
   teach us to attend only to God and our own souls, and never to interest
   ourselves in any care or employment about others, till evidently God's
   inspirations force us, and external authority obliges us thereto.
   Whereas their lights render them incapable of solitude, and thrust them
   abroad to be reformers of others, being themselves impatient of all
   reformation and contradiction. 7. Our lights make us to fear and avoid
   all supereminence and judicature, all sensual pleasures, desires of
   wealth, honours, &c. Whereas their lights engage them violently and
   deeply in all these carnal and secular ways, and (for the attaining to
   these) in tumults, sedition, bloodshed, and war; in a word, in all
   manner of actions and designs most contrary to the spirit of
   Christianity. 8. And, lastly, our lights, if they should chance
   sometimes to be mistaken by us, no harm at all would accrue to others,
   and not any considerable prejudice to ourselves; because, as hath been
   said, the matters in which they direct us are in their nature
   indifferent, and are ordered only towards a more perfect loving of God,
   and withdrawing us from creatures. Whereas all the miseries, and almost
   all the disorders and enormous vices, of the nations are the effects of
   their misleading lights.

   34. Thus stands the case between Catholic inspirations and the
   pretended inspirations of sectaries. Such is that spirit of charity and
   peace, and so divine are the effects of it directing the minds of good,
   humble, obedient, and devout Catholics; and such is the spirit of
   disorder, revenge, wrath, rebellion, &c., and so dismal are the effects
   of that spirit wherewith self-opinionated, presumptuous, frantic
   sectaries are agitated! What resemblance, what agreement can there be
   between these two? This evil spirit, though it sacrilegiously usurps
   the name, yet it does not so much as counterfeit the operations of the
   Good One. Or if with the name it do sometimes seem to counterfeit some
   outward resemblances, and to some persons show demure looks, &c., yet
   the equivocation and hypocrisy is so gross and palpable that they must
   put out their eyes that perceive it not.

   35. Shall we, then, extinguish, and in some sort exorcise, the good
   Divine Spirit, for fear it should raise up the evil one with it? Or
   rather shall we not confidently assure ourselves that, upon the
   appearing of the Good One, the evil one will either vanish, or the
   hideousness of it will affright all from hearkening to it? Shall we
   forbid the sun to rise, because in some unclean, rotten marshes some
   fogs will arise with it? We may as well annul the Sacraments, forbid
   prayer, extinguish the Scriptures, &c.; for from all these the devil
   has maliciously taken advantage to pervert and damn thousands of souls.

   36. No doubt it is but that among those seduced and seducing people
   great numbers there are who, if they were charitably instructed in such
   ways of discerning spirits, they would be surprised and would start to
   see to what kinds of directors and guides they have unwaringly
   committed their souls. If such as these could be persuaded (and I
   beseech God they may), even whilst they are yet out of the Church, for
   a while to suspend the pursuance of their busy designs and reforming of
   others, and retiring themselves into solitude, would allow themselves
   the leisure to turn their eyes inward into their own spirits, and
   practise as well as they can the humble, self-renouncing, resigned way
   of spiritual prayer taught in this book, thereby to procure from God
   such lights as then may be trusted to, neither they nor we should ever
   repent that the publishing such doctrines as these gave them a happy
   occasion to do so.

   37. And what greater satisfaction can Catholics have in their ways! And
   what greater advantage can they have over all those that are out of the
   Church than this proof made good by universal experience, viz. that
   whosoever sincerely and constantly gives himself to the practice of
   such perfect prayer as is here taught, if he be already a Catholic, he
   will most certainly ever remain so; and if he be not yet in the Church,
   he will be afraid of remaining his own pastor and guide? For never did
   any Catholic that exercised spiritual prayer cease to be a Catholic
   till he first ceased so to pray. And the spirit of such prayer, in any
   perfection, never rested upon any soul that was out of the Catholic
   Church.

   38. And this, I suppose, may suffice not only to justify the truth and
   innocency of this our doctrine concerning divine inspirations, &c., but
   also the lawfulness, yea conveniency, yea even the necessity of
   publishing it to the world; and this for those very reasons wherewith
   others would deter us. For the objectors are afraid of the publication
   of it, lest frantic sectaries should think themselves justified in
   their pretences; and, on the contrary, I conceive the publication
   necessary, lest they should think themselves justified in their
   pretences, which, till they see how unlike to true divine lights and
   inspirations theirs are, they may have some show for. I do not intend,
   when I call it our doctrine, to appropriate it to any person or
   community; for it is the very same that hath in all ages been taught by
   all saints experienced in internal ways, as will be demonstrated by
   infinite testimonies ancient and modern, if God shall engage us to such
   a labour by the opposition of any one. True it is, that the pious and
   sublime Author of the treatises here abridged hath (doubtless by the
   guidance and assistance of a supernatural light) spent more thoughts
   about this subject, and taken more pains in encouraging well-minded
   souls to fit themselves for the receiving of such light, in
   distinguishing it from false lights, and in showing the blessed effects
   of it, &c., than perhaps any other author formerly did. And that is
   all. For the doctrine in substance is as old as Christianity itself,
   and cannot seem strange or new but only to such to whom in these days
   antiquity seemeth the greatest novelty.

   39. Having thus, by declaring the insufficiency of these objections
   against the publishing of the following instructions, opened the
   barriers to give this book a free scope to range abroad at liberty; and
   my only intention being (for God's glory) to benefit thy soul, dear
   reader; for as for the mean or sinister ends of gaining credit or
   esteem with others thereby, the ambition is so unworthy of my
   profession, and withal so poor and unreasonable, considering that I can
   appropriate nothing to myself but a little pains in transcribing and
   digesting another man's labours, that I cannot think myself liable to
   any suspicion with thee in that regard; therefore, to the end I may,
   according to the utmost of my ability, facilitate the receiving good to
   thy spirit hereby, though I have no more objections to answer, yet by
   conversing with certain pious and learned persons to whose perusal and
   judgment this book was presented. having found that some few passages
   in it were not so very clearly expressed, but that even an uninterested
   and dispassionate reader might, perhaps, stop a little at them, I
   thought it expedient to let thee, good reader, be acquainted what
   satisfaction I gave to them.

   40. One point that seemed to require explanation is that (1st treat. 2d
   sec. 2d chap.) where is treated of what care a spiritual disciple ought
   to take in the choice of a fit director. For to leave a matter of such
   importance to the election of an inexperienced, and perhaps young and
   ignorant, soul, seemed to them neither convenient nor prudent. Besides
   that in religious communities such a permission would be an infringing
   of all due order and submission to superiors. But hereto was replied:
   1. That religious persons were expressly excepted in the book; 2. and
   as for others, this very same advice was long since given by the Bishop
   of Geneva, Avila, &c. True it is, notwithstanding, that there may oft
   be found in the world many good devout souls that yet are not very
   capable of making a good choice. However, even such, as far as is
   allowed, ought to use their best endeavours, hoping that God will bless
   such their care for the advancement of their spirits. Notwithstanding
   such ought withal to take heed that from too nice a curiosity in
   choosing, there do not follow any disquiet in the families where they
   live, if several persons should be zealous each for a particular
   director; as St. Jerome chides a mother and a daughter that upon such
   an occasion separated from one another. Therefore in such a case a good
   soul that will prefer peace before contenting her mind may, of all
   others, rely upon God, assuring herself that He will in a special
   manner assist and conduct her, supplying all other wants. And
   particularly such an extraordinary divine assistance may be most
   confidently expected by well-disposed souls in religious communities,
   where such freedom of choosing is not permitted. For, as Rusbrochius
   saith, God will rather send an Angel from heaven than that such humble,
   obedient, and sincere souls relying upon Him shall want due helps.
   Therefore, such as forbear a solicitous searching after a director,
   either for the preventing inconveniences, or out of an humble, sincere
   apprehension of the danger of erring in the choice, or a religious
   regard to the prejudice it might cause in a community to peace and good
   order, &c., such may well hope that God will not permit them to be
   losers thereby. Yea, moreover, such as in the fore-named cases think
   they have a true occasion, and that they may justly do it for the
   quieting of their consciences, resolving of their doubts, &c., had need
   be very wary that they proceed sincerely, and that they really seek
   their spiritual profit, and not natural contentment. For, as our
   Venerable Father Baker in a certain place adviseth, it is not
   sufficient to any souls, that it is permitted by the laws of the Church
   at certain times to require a special director (upon a consideration of
   the expedience and necessity that some souls in some circumstances may
   have), but they are to consider whether their case have these
   circumstances, and whether they do truly make use of the said
   permission for the right end.

   41. A second point in the same chapter supposed to require explanation
   was that assertion, that a devout soul once set in a good and proper
   way of prayer, after she has made some progress in it, ought not to
   have recourse ordinarily to a director, but that she should practise
   the following of God's directions, &c. On the contrary, it was supposed
   that until a soul have made some considerable progress in the prayer of
   the will, she would not be subject to illusions, and, therefore, had
   thenceforward most need of advice from a prudent guide. But this
   difficulty is cleared towards the latter end of the third treatise,
   where it is taught that in the case and peril of illusion upon an
   opinion of some extraordinary illuminations, &c., it is necessary that
   souls, though never so much advanced, should distrust their own
   judgment, and never presume to add belief unto, and much less put in
   execution anything suggested by, any illuminations (true or pretended)
   without the advice and consent of superiors and directors. But, as for
   the ordinary practices of an internal life, as prayer and
   mortification, &c., it is very requisite that souls should be taught,
   as soon as may be, to quit an assiduous dependence on external guides,
   from whence would follow nothing but solicitudes, distractions, &c.
   There is a parallel advice, though in somewhat a different case in the
   3d treat. 4th sec., 3d chap. S:S: 36, 37, where, in a discourse
   concerning rapts and the like extraordinary favours, it is said of
   perfect souls that they may judge of those matters by their own
   supernatural light, &c., and that they are not so absolutely obliged to
   resign their judgments and wills to others as utterly to neglect their
   own proper call received from God, &c. By which words it is not meant
   that any souls, though never so perfect, should be exempted from the
   obligation of submission to superiors, judging or ordaining, concerning
   such divine favours; but only that such perfect souls need not so often
   have recourse for advice about such matters, but may proceed by that
   divine light communicated to them; whereas the imperfect ought neither
   to yield belief nor execution further than they have advice and order
   for. Now who would find fault with [1]St. Teresa, St. Catherine of
   Sienna, &c., if they should forbear consultations after every rapt of
   revelation, having formerly been sufficiently warranted by superiors,
   &c.?

   42. In consequence to the story of V. R. F. Balthasar Alvarez's account
   given of his prayer to his general (mentioned in the 3d treatise, 1st
   sect. 7th chap. at the end), where a relation is made of the general's
   orders, requiring all superiors to direct and assist the younger
   religious among them, so as that they might highly esteem and in their
   practice follow the manner of prayer most suitable to their institute,
   and prescribed in their exercises, I think myself obliged to acquaint
   thee, dear reader, that by two books published of late by two Rev.
   Fathers of the Society, and perused by me since the writing and
   printing of that passage, I find that the said orders of the general
   are not, at least of late, so rigidly interpreted as formerly they
   were.

   43. The authors of the said books written in French are R. F. Ant.
   Civora and R. F. Andr. Baiole, in which the whole doctrine of this
   book, especially concerning the excellency of affective prayer beyond
   discoursive, is most copiously and strongly asserted. Yea and moreover
   the instructions concerning the necessity of attending to and following
   divine inspirations, as likewise ways prescribed to distinguish them
   from false suggestions of the devil or corrupt nature, are so largely,
   clearly, and even in the very phrases of this book delivered by the
   former of the two in his book called Les Secrets de la Science des
   Saints (tr. iii. cap. ix. from p. 402 to p. 486), that, it not being
   credible that he had seen our V. F. A. Baker's writings, we may
   rationally infer that what he writes with such extraordinary exactness
   proceeded from a deep and experimental knowledge of these internal and
   secret paths of contemplation.

   44. So that no doubt there are many devout persons in the society who,
   not being engaged in many external employments, and enjoying
   consequently both a solitude and liberty of spirit greater perhaps than
   will be afforded in many communities by profession purely
   contemplative, do permit themselves to the divine conduct, and make
   wonderful progress in these divine ways.

   45. True indeed it is that the other author (F. Andr. Baiole) seems to
   maintain that the spiritual exercises, according to the intention of
   St. Ignatius, will, by practice, become a prayer of contemplation and
   mystic union, an assertion in which I have not yet found any to join
   with him. But, however, he shows in his book (styled La Vie Intarieure
   ) that he had a true notion of the prayer of mystic union. And that
   being so, he may freely enjoy the contentment of the former
   supposition.

   48. Besides these, there may possibly be other passages that thou also,
   devout reader, if thou hadst had the perusal before the impression,
   wouldst perhaps have given us occasion to explain or interpret more at
   large. If it prove so, all we can do is to refer them to thine own
   candour and charity, promising upon a re-impression all satisfaction
   possible; and in the mean time requesting that our own good intention
   and the judgment of our superiors and approvers may be our safeguard.
   Only one suit we make unto thee (most reasonable and just), which is,
   that thou wouldst not proceed to the censure of any passage till thou
   hast read the whole book. The same points and matters do occasionally
   come in several places, and it would have been too great a tiring of
   thee to repeat in every place all the circumstances and phrases
   necessary for explanation or prevention of suspicions and objections.
   If it be for thine own good principally that thou art a reader, we
   shall stand in little need of preparing thee with apologies. And if it
   be for our hurt that thou art a reader, we thank God we are not guilty
   of the least ill design to make us fear, except only in thy behalf. All
   that we have to say is, God Almighty make thee (whosoever thou art) a
   practiser of the good that thou wilt certainly find in the following
   treatises; and then we shall have no cause to apprehend either for thee
   or ourselves.

   47. Thus, truly, for aught appears to me, devout reader, thou mayest
   freely, and without the least apprehension of any danger, peruse and
   make thy best benefit of these following instructions; the which,
   moreover, as thou seest, have passed the censure and deserved the
   approbations of several pious and learned persons. Whatever opinion
   thou shalt, after reading, have of them, at least I will oblige thee to
   acknowledge that here (in the treatises that follow) is no manner of
   covert indirect meaning or design (according to the fashion nowadays)
   to broach any bold new-fangled inventions, and much less of maintaining
   unduly what shall be duly found fault with, since they are exposed to
   the common view by one that (as he hitherto hath so) here he doth (and
   by God's grace ever will) submit himself and his writings to the
   authority and judgment of the See Apostolic in the first place, and
   next to all other his superiors. This I profess, as is the duty of an
   humble, obedient son of the Church. And this, if I did not moreover
   expressly signify with reference to the doctrines contained in the
   following treatises, I could not avoid some degree of guilt and
   imputation of not delivering candidly and faithfully our Venerable
   Author's sense, who in many places protesteth the like submission of
   all his writings to all lawful authority whatsoever.

   Farewell, dear reader. Oremus invicem, ut salvemur. AMEN
     __________________________________________________________________

   [6] Father Cressy here refers to Father Castaniza, a Spanish
   Benedictine, author of the Spiritual Conflict, which was the basis of
   that well known and most valuable work, the Spiritual Combat, drawn up
   by Father Scupoli, a Theatine. In addition to the Spiritual Conflict,
   Father Castaniza wrote five treatises entitled the Spiritual Conquest.
   This is a work of instructions for contemplatives. The fifth treatise
   contains the choicest Maxims of Mystical Divinity,' here also referred
   to. He died about the year 1599. Ziegelbauer says, claruit ad annum
   1599.' This work has been recently edited by Canon Vaughan,
   O.S.B.--J.N.S.

   [7] Ps. xxxiii. 6.

   [8] Rom. viii. 14.

   [9] 1 John ii. 27.

   [10] Acts iv. 19.

   [11] Jude 13.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

THE FIRST TREATISE AND THE FIRST SECTION

  OF A CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE IN GENERAL. THE NATURE AND END
  THEREOF, AND GENERAL DISPOSITION REQUIRED THERETO.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1-3. Continual union in spirit with God the end of man's creation,
   and practised by Adam in innocence.

   S:S: 4. 5. Man's fall and misery through sin.

   S:S: 6, 7. Which is transfused into us and all his posterity.

   S:S: 8, 9. The reparation of mankind by Christ.

   S:S: 10, 11. That all Christians are obliged to aspire to perfection in
   divine love by the ways of prayer, &c., as Adam did.

   1. It was only infinite goodness that moved Almighty God to create the
   world of nothing, and particularly in this inferior visible world, to
   create man after His own image and similitude, consisting of a frail
   earthly body, which is the prison of an immortal, intellectual spirit,
   to the end that by his understanding, which is capable of an unlimited
   knowledge, and by his will, which cannot be replenished with any object
   of goodness less than infinite, he might so govern and order himself,
   and all other visible creatures, as thereby to arrive unto the end for
   which he was made, to wit, eternal beatitude both in soul and body in
   heaven, the which consists in a returning to the divine principle from
   whom he flowed, and an inconceivably happy union with Him, both in
   mind, contemplating eternally His infinite perfections, and in will and
   affections eternally loving, admiring, and enjoying the said
   perfections.

   2. Now to the end that man might not (except by his own free and
   willful choice of misery) fail from attaining to the only universal end
   of his creation, God was pleased to the natural vast capacity of man's
   understanding and will to add a supernatural light, illustrating his
   mind to believe and know Him, and divine charity in the will, which was
   as it were a weight to incline and draw the soul, without any defect or
   interruption to love God, and Him only. So that by a continual presence
   of this light, and an uninterrupted exercise of this love, the soul of
   man would in time have attained to such a measure of perfection of
   union with God in this world, as without dying to merit a translation
   from hence to heaven, there eternally to enjoy a far more
   incomprehensibly perfect and beatifying union with God.

   3. Hence it appears that the means to happiness, and the end itself,
   are essentially the same thing, to wit, union of the spirit with God,
   and differ only in degrees. And the union which Adam during his state
   of innocence did and would always have practised was in a sort
   perpetual, never being interrupted (except perhaps in sleep). For,
   loving God only and purely for Himself, he had no strange affection to
   distract him, and the images of creatures, which either by his
   consideration of them, or operations about them, did adhere to his
   internal senses, did not at all divert his mind from God, because he
   contemplated them only in order to God; or rather he contemplated God
   alone in them, loving and serving Him only in all his reflections on
   them, or workings about them. So that creatures and all offices towards
   them served as steps to raise Adam to a more sublime and more intimate
   union with God; the which was both his duty and his present happiness,
   besides that it was a disposition to his future eternal beatitude.

   4. But our first parents by a willful contempt and transgression of
   that one most easy command, which God for a trial of their obedience
   had imposed on them, not only broke the foresaid union, and deprived
   themselves of the hope of enjoying God eternally in the future life,
   but moreover were utterly divested of all supernatural graces, and
   extremely weakened and disordered in all their natural gifts. So that
   having lost that divine light, by which their understandings had been
   illustrated, and that divine love by which their wills and affections
   adhered continually to God, they were rendered incapable either of
   contemplating God (except only as a severe judge and avenger), or
   consequently of affording Him any degree of love. On the contrary, both
   their minds and affections were only employed on themselves, or on
   creatures, for their own natural, carnal interests or pleasure; and
   this with such a violent obstinacy and firmness, that it was impossible
   for them by any force left in corrupt nature to raise their love
   towards God, being once so impetuously precipitated from Him towards
   themselves.

   5. All these miserable depravations having been caused in all the
   powers and faculties of their souls by the forbidden fruit, the which
   utterly and irreparably disordered that most healthful, exact temper of
   their bodily constitutions; insomuch as the spirits and humours, &c.,
   which before did nothing at all hinder their exercisings and operations
   towards God, but did much promote them, now did wholly dispose them to
   love and seek themselves only, with an utter aversion from God, and the
   accomplishing of His divine will; and all circumstant creatures,
   instead of being steps to raise them towards God, on the contrary more
   and more seduced their affections from Him, and raised all other
   inordinate passions displeasing to Him. Hereby in lieu of that
   peaceable and happy condition which they before enjoyed in this world
   by a continual union with God (the which was to be perfected eternally
   in the world to come), they became disquieted, distracted, and even
   torn asunder with a multitude of passions and designs, oft contrary to
   one another, but all of them much more opposite to God; so that by
   falling from unity to a miserable multiplicity, and from peace to an
   endless war, they were therein captived by the devil, readily yielding
   to all his suggestions, hateful to and hating God, and so contracted
   not only an unavoidable necessity of a corporal death, but also the
   guilt and right to an eternal separation from God after death in that
   lake of fire and brimstone burning for ever, and prepared for the devil
   and his angels.

   6. Now the whole stock of human nature being thus totally and
   universally depraved in our first parents, it could not by any possible
   natural means be avoided, but that all their posterity should be
   equally infected and poisoned with all these disorders, all which were
   increased and daily heightened by ill education and actual
   transgressions. And consequently the same guilt both of temporal and
   eternal death was withal transfused upon them.

   7. But Almighty God, the Father of mercies, pitying His own creatures
   thus ingulfed in utter misery by the fault of Adam, seduced by his and
   our common enemy, did in His most unspeakable mercy, freely and
   unasked, provide and ordain His own coeternal Son to be a Saviour unto
   mankind; who by His most bitter sufferings and death redeemed us from
   the guilt of eternal death; and by His glorious life and resurrection,
   having obtained a power of sending the Holy Ghost (communicated to us
   in His word and sacraments, &c.), He hath rectified all these
   disorders, shedding forth a new heavenly light to cure the blindness of
   our understandings, and divine charity in our hearts, the which abateth
   that inordinate self-love formerly reigning in us, and hereby He
   reinstates us (cooeperating with His divine grace, and persevering
   therein) to a new right unto eternal happiness, (perhaps) more sublime
   than man in innocency was destined to.

   8. Notwithstanding, it was not the good will and pleasure of God by
   this reparation to restore us to the same state of perfect holiness
   wherein Adam lived in paradise. And this we ought to ascribe to His
   infinite wisdom, and also to His unspeakable goodness towards us; for
   certainly, if we had been once more left, as Adam was, in the free
   power of our own wills, that is, in so casual an estate as Adam was,
   and assisted and fortified with no stronger an aid than the primitive
   grace, we should again have irreparably forfeited all our happiness,
   and plunged ourselves far more deeply in endless misery.

   9. Therefore, Almighty God thought fit for our humiliation, and to keep
   us in continual vigilance and fear, as also thereby daily to refresh
   the memory of our primitive guilt, and our thankfulness for His
   inestimable goodness, to leave us in a necessity of incurring temporal
   death, which we are not now to look on as a punishment of sin, so much
   as a freedom from sin, and a gate and entrance to eternal glory.
   Moreover, though by His grace He hath abolished the guilt of original
   sin, yet He hath suffered still to remain in us many bitter effects of
   it, the which shall never in this life be so wholly extinguished by
   grace, or our holy endeavours, but that some degrees of ignorance and
   inclinations to that pernicious love of ourselves will remain in us; by
   which means we are preserved from our greatest enemy, pride, and also
   forced to a continual watchfulness and combat against ourselves, and
   our spiritual enemies; always distrusting ourselves and relying upon
   the medicinal omnipotent regenerating grace of Christ, far more helpful
   to us than the grace of innocency was, in that it not only more
   powerfully inclines our wills and conquers the actual resistance of
   them, by making them freely cooeperate with it, whensoever they do
   cooeperate (for it takes not away our liberty to resist), but likewise
   after it hath been weakened by venial sins, and extinguished by mortal,
   it is again and again renewed by the means of the sacraments and
   prayer, &c.

   10. Our duty therefore in our present state, and the employment of our
   whole lives, must be constantly and fervently to cooeperate with divine
   grace, thereby endeavouring not only to get victory over self-love,
   pride, sensuality, &c., by humility, divine love, and all other
   virtues; but also not to content ourselves with any limited degrees of
   piety and holiness, but daily to aspire, according to our abilities
   assisted with grace by the same ways to the same perfection for which
   we were first created, and which was practised by Adam in innocence; to
   wit, an utter extinguishing of self-love and all affection to
   creatures, except in order to God, and as they may be instrumental to
   beget and increase divine love in us; and a continual uninterrupted
   union in spirit with God, by faith contemplating Him, and by love ever
   adhering to Him.

   11. This, I say, is the duty and indispensable obligation of all
   Christians, of what condition soever, not only seriously to aspire to
   the divine love, but also to the perfection thereof suitably to their
   several states and vocations, for it is morally impossible for a soul
   to love God, as He ought to be loved (that is, as the only object of
   her love, and as the only universal end of her being and life, for the
   procuring of an inseparable union with whom and for no other reason the
   use and comfort of creatures was permitted and given to her), I say, it
   is morally impossible for such a soul so loving God deliberately and
   habitually to yield to the love of anything but God only, and in order
   to Him; or to stop in any inferior degree of love to Him. The frailty
   of nature and many unavoidable distractions and temptations may and
   generally do hinder most souls from attaining or even approaching to
   such perfection, to such uninterrupted attention and union with God, as
   was practised by Adam in innocency, and by a few perfect souls in all
   ages; but nothing but the want of true sincere love will hinder the
   aspiring thereto, according to the measure and strength of grace that
   each soul in her order enjoys. And both reason and experience witness
   this truth in all manner of loves, lawful or unlawful; for we see that
   wheresoever the love to riches, honour, empire, or pleasure is the
   tyrannising affection, so as to cause the person to place his supposed
   happiness in any of these, such persons neither will nor can, being so
   disposed, willfully surcease a continual progress in pursuing their
   designs endlessly; neither can they admit an habitual and deliberate
   adherence with affection to any other object, though (not ruinous, but)
   in an inferior degree prejudicial to what they principally affect.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S: 1. Commonly those only are said to aspire to perfection that
   consecrate themselves to God.

   S: 2. A natural devotion and propension to seek God, of which the
   degrees are infinitely various.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5. Yet all ranged under two states--Active and
   Contemplative.

   S:S: 6, 7. Generally most souls are of a mixed temper between both;
   hence comes the difficulty of the guiding of souls.

   S: 8. At the first entrance into internal ways all souls seem to be of
   an Active temper.

   1. Notwithstanding although all Christians are obliged to aspire to
   perfection, and to lead spiritual lives, sanctifying all their actions
   and employments by prayer, yet the effectual practice of this
   obligation is so very rare that in ordinary speech those only are said
   to aspire unto perfection who have been so highly favoured by God, as
   to have been called by Him from all solicitous engagement in worldly
   affairs, so as to make the only business and employment of their lives
   to be the serving, adoring, loving, meditating, and praying unto God,
   the attending to and following His divine inspirations, &c., in a state
   of competent abstraction and solitude; and this most ordinarily and
   perfectly in a religious profession, or if in the world, yet in a
   course of life divided and separated from the world.

   2. There seems indeed to remain even naturally in all souls a certain
   propension to seek God (though not at all for Himself, but merely for
   the satisfaction of nature, and self-ends), which is a kind of natural
   devotion, and is to be found even in heretics, yea, Jews and heathens;
   and this more or less according to their several dispositions and
   corporal complexions, the variety of which is wonderful and almost
   incredible. Now when divine grace adjoins itself to such good
   propensions, it promotes and increases them, rectifying what is amiss
   in them, especially by purifying the intention and making them to seek
   God only for God himself, and no unworthy inferior ends of nature; but
   it doth not at all alter the complexion itself, but conducts souls in
   spiritual ways suitably to their several dispositions by an almost
   infinite variety of paths and fashions, yet all tending to the same
   general end, which is the union of our spirits with God by perfect
   love.

   3. Notwithstanding all these varieties of dispositions and ways (of
   which we shall treat more fully when we come to speak of internal
   prayer) may commodiously enough be reduced in gross to two ranks, to
   wit, Active and Contemplative spirits: both which aspire to a
   perfection of union in spirit with God by perfect love; and for that
   purpose in gross practice make use of the same means necessary to that
   end, to wit, mortification and prayer. But yet the manner both of their
   union and prayer, and consequently of their mortification also is very
   different; and the root of such difference is the forementioned variety
   of propensions and natural dispositions to internal ways.

   4. For, first, the propension which is in some souls to devotion is of
   such a nature that it inclines them much to busy their imagination and
   to frame in their minds motives to the divine love by internal
   discourse, so as that without such reasoning and use of images they can
   seldom with any efficacy raise or fix their affections on God. Such
   dispositions are not patient of much solitude or recollection more than
   shall be necessary to enable them to produce and maintain a right
   intention in outward doings and works of charity, to the which they are
   powerfully inclined; and the mortifications most willingly practised by
   them are usually external, and oftentimes voluntarily assumed, the
   which make a great show and procure very great esteem from others. And
   proportionably hereto the divine love and union produced by such means
   is very vigorous, but less pure and spiritual, apt to express itself by
   much sensible devotion and tenderness. The state therefore and
   perfection of these souls is called the state and perfection of an
   Active life.

   5. Again, others are naturally of a propension to seek God in the
   obscurity of faith, with a more profound introversion of spirit, and
   with less activity and motion in sensitive nature, and without the use
   of grosser images, yet with far greater simplicity, purity, and
   efficacy. And consequently such souls are not of themselves much
   inclined to external works (except when God calls them thereto by
   secret inspirations, or engages them therein by command of superiors),
   but they seek rather to purify themselves and inflame their hearts in
   the love of God by internal, quiet, and pure actuations in spirit, by a
   total abstraction from creatures, by solitude, both external and
   especially internal, so disposing themselves to receive the influxes
   and inspirations of God, whose guidance chiefly they endeavour to
   follow in all things. And the mortifications practised by them, though
   less remarkable, yet are far more efficacious, being profound and
   penetrating even to the most secret deordinations of the spirit. By a
   constant pursuance of such exercises, their spirits becoming naked and
   empty of all strange affections, images, and distractions, the Divine
   Spirit only lives and operates in them, affording them light to
   perceive and strength to subdue self-love in its most secret and, to
   all others, imperceptible insinuations; and by consequence they attain
   unto an union with God far more strict and immediate than the former,
   by a love much more masculine, pure, and divine. And the state and
   perfection of these happy souls is called the state and perfection of a
   Contemplative life.

   6. Now, though all internal dispositions of souls (by which mankind is
   more diversified than by outward features) may conveniently enough be
   ranged under these two states, yet we are not to conceive that each
   soul is by its temper entirely and absolutely either contemplative or
   active; for, on the contrary, the most part are of a disposition mixed
   between both, and partaking somewhat, more or less, of each. But they
   receive the denomination from that whereto the propension is more
   strong.

   7. And from hence comes that great difficulty that there is in the
   conducting and managing of souls in these internal ways; for each
   several disposition must be put in a way suitable to the spirit of the
   party, otherwise small progress can be expected. Now, that wherein the
   diversity of spirits is principally discerned is their prayer. If
   therefore an active spirit should be obliged to that internal solitude,
   to that quiet affective prayer of the heart alone which is proper to
   contemplative souls; or if a contemplative spirit should be too long
   detained or fettered with the rules and busy methods of discursive
   meditation (which is a prayer chiefly of the head or imagination); or,
   lastly, if a spirit of a mixed disposition should be strictly confined
   to either of these sorts of prayer and not allowed to practise them
   interchangeably according as she finds profitable to her present temper
   of mind, &c., they would entangle themselves with insuperable
   difficulties, scrupulosities, and unsatisfaction, and be so far from
   any considerable advancement, that they would be in danger of giving
   over all thought of seeking God internally.

   8. Notwithstanding, although the propensions of some souls to internal
   operations of the spirit, and consequently to contemplation, were never
   so strong, yet at their first entrance into a spiritual course they
   will, ordinarily speaking, seem to be of an active, extroverted temper,
   and consequently will not be capable of a long-continued rigorous
   solitude, nor of operations purely spiritual. They will therefore be
   forced to begin with exercises of the imagination and discursive
   prayer. And the reason is, because by their former secular, negligent,
   and extroverted life, their mind is so filled and painted all over with
   the images of creatures, and their hearts so disordered and divided
   with inordinate affections and passions, that the will alone, with its
   actuations, purposes, and resolutions, has not power to expel the said
   images and to assuage the said passions; so that there is a necessity
   by meditation and consideration, of introducing good images to expel
   the vain and bad ones, and of inventing motives to quiet passions by
   diverting them upon God. But this being once done by the exercises
   proper to an active life (which to such souls will not need to last
   long), they thenceforwards are to betake themselves, and always to
   continue in such internal exercises as are suitable to their natural
   propensions, to wit, the quiet, solitary, spiritual exercises of a
   contemplative life.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. The contemplative state more perfect.

   S: 2. And also more easy and secure.

   S: 3. Of which yet the most simple and ignorant are capable.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. The end of a contemplative life
   supereminently excellent above that of the active, and the union with
   God more Divine.

   S: 11. Of passive unions therein, yet more supernatural.

   1. Of these two states, the contemplative is by all acknowledged to be
   the more sublime and perfect, inasmuch as the operations and exercises
   of it are more spiritual, more abstracted from the body and its sensual
   faculties, and consequently more angelical and divine. It is
   represented to us by our Lord in the person of Mary, who is therefore
   said to have chosen the best part, which shall never be taken from her,
   being the beginning and imperfect practice of that which shall be our
   eternal employment and beatitude in heaven. As on the other side the
   active life is typified by the other sister Martha, who turmoiled
   herself with many exterior businesses and solicitudes, which though
   they were in themselves good and laudable, yet Mary's vacancy and
   inward attention to our Lord is much preferred.

   2. And as the contemplative state is of the two the more perfect, so
   also is it far more easy, more simple, and more secure from all errors
   and illusions which may be occasioned by an indiscreet use of prayer.
   And the reason or ground of such security is evident, because a
   contemplative soul tending to God and working almost only with the
   heart and blind affections of the will pouring themselves upon God
   apprehended only in the obscure notion of faith, not inquiring what He
   is, but believing Him to be that incomprehensible Being which He is,
   and which can only be comprehended by Himself, rejecting and striving
   to forget all images and representations of Him, or anything else; yea,
   transcending all operations of the imagination, and all subtlety and
   curiosity of reasoning; and lastly, seeking an union with God only by
   the most pure and most intime affections of the spirit: what
   possibility of illusion or error can there be to such a soul? For if
   the devil should suggest an image (which is his only means and way to
   seduce a soul to error and a sinful curiosity of knowledge), she is
   taught and exercised to reject all manner of images, and to hold the
   internal senses almost wholly vacant during her spiritual actuations.
   Or, if by stirring up unclean or other unlawful affections in sensitive
   nature, he seek to assault her, what more secure remedy is there than
   with the whole bent and affections of the soul to adhere and be united
   to God, neglecting and scarce marking whatsoever disorders may
   unwillingly happen in inferior nature, above which she is exalted into
   a region of light and peace?

   3. Now, for a further proof of the excellency and security of
   contemplative prayer beyond active, experience demonstrates that all
   the most sublime exercises of contemplation may as purely and perfectly
   be performed by persons the most ignorant and unlearned (so they be
   sufficiently instructed in the fundamental doctrines of Catholic faith)
   as by the learnedst doctors, inasmuch as not any abilities in the brain
   are requisite thereto, but only a strong courageous affection of the
   heart. Hence it is that we see that simple unlearned women are more
   frequently graced by Almighty God with the gift of high contemplation
   than men, and especially such men as are much given to sublime
   speculations. A reason whereof may be (besides that God reveals Himself
   more willingly to humble and simple minds) because by means of that
   tenderness and compassionateness which abounds naturally in women, they
   are disposed to a greater fervour in charity, and their affections
   being once fixed on their only proper object, which is God, they do
   more vigorously and firmly adhere thereunto, and by consequence arrive
   both more easily and quickly to the perfection of contemplation, which
   consists (as shall hereafter be shown) in the fervour and constancy of
   the will united to God, and scarce at all in the operations of the
   understanding.

   Now this present treatise being intended only for encouraging and
   instructing of persons that aspire to perfection in a contemplative
   life, and more especially for the discovering of the several degrees of
   prayer proper for that state, reason requires that, since in all
   doctrines which tend to practice the end is principally to be regarded
   as being that which, if it can be approved worthy the taking pains for,
   will give life and courage in the use of the means conducing thereto,
   we should treat more precisely of the proper end of a contemplative
   life, the which indeed is of so supreme an excellence and divine
   profection above anything that can be designed or sought after in any
   other doctrine or profession, that those who have eyes to see it and
   palates capable of a spiritual tasting of it, will think no
   difficulties, no tediousnesses, no bitternesses or labours too great a
   price to purchase it.

   4. It was said before that the general end of man's creation, and which
   ought to be aspired unto by all Christians, and much more those whose
   more special profession is to tend to perfection, whether in an active
   or a contemplative state, is a perfect and constant union in spirit to
   God by love, which is uninterrupted perfect prayer. But the same end is
   differently sought and attained by active and by contemplative spirits;
   for in an active life the union is not so immediate, stable, sublime,
   and intime of the supreme portion of the spirit with God, as it is in a
   contemplative state. But as the exercises of the active livers are much
   in the imaginative and discursive faculties of the soul, so is likewise
   their union. The effects indeed of it are more perceptible, and
   therefore more apt to cause admiration in others; but withal, being
   much in sense, it is not so clear nor so peaceful, and by consequence
   not so stable nor immediate as is that of contemplatives. The charity
   of actives is strong and vigorous, and the outward effects of it
   dazzling the eyes of the beholders, and thereby causing great
   edification; they are withal frequently multiplied, for strong love is
   a passion that takes pleasure in labours. Whereas the deeds of
   contemplative souls (except when God by an extraordinary inspiration
   calls them to exterior employments) are but few, and in appearance but
   small, and little regarded or esteemed by others. Yet those mean
   actions of theirs in God's esteem may be preferred incomparably before
   the others, as being in a far more perfect degree supernatural and
   divine, as proceeding from an immediate and most certain impulse of
   God's Holy Spirit, whose conduct, light, and virtue such souls do far
   more clearly perceive, and more faithfully and constantly follow, even
   in their daily and ordinary practices, than active livers do or can in
   their actions of highest importance. Lastly, the charity of
   contemplatives, though it be less stirring and busy, yet is far more
   profoundly rooted in the centre of the spirit, causing an union much
   more spiritual and divine.

   5. [2]St. Bernard, perfectly experienced in the internal ways of a
   contemplative life, writing to certain religious Fathers of the
   Carthusian Order, professing the same, excellently expresses this union
   in these words: Aliorum est Deo servire; vestrum adhaerere. Aliorum est
   Deo credere, scire, amare, revereri; vestrum est sapere, intelligere,
   cognoscere, frui; that is, It is the duty of others (that live active
   lives either in the world or religion) to serve God; but it is yours to
   adhere inseparably unto Him. It belongs to others to believe, to know,
   to love, to adore God; but to you to taste, to understand, to be
   familiarly acquainted with, and to enjoy Him.

   6. Constantly to this expression of [3]St. Bernard, mystic writers do
   teach that the proper end of a contemplative life is the attaining unto
   an habitual and almost uninterrupted perfect union with God in the
   supreme point of the spirit; and such an union as gives the soul a
   fruitive possession of Him, and a real experimental perception of His
   divine presence in the depth and centre of the spirit, which is fully
   possessed and filled with Him alone; not only all deliberate affections
   to creatures being excluded, but in a manner all images of them also,
   at least so far as they may be distractive to the soul.

   7. The effects of this blessed, perceptible presence of God in perfect
   souls are unspeakable and divine; for He is in them both as a principle
   of all their actions internal and external, being the life of their
   life and spirit of their spirits; and also as the end of them,
   directing both the actions and persons to Himself only. He is all in
   all things unto them: a light to direct securely all their steps, and
   to order all their workings, even those also which seem the most
   indifferent, the which by the guidance of God's Holy Spirit do cause a
   farther advancement of them to a yet more immediate union. He is a
   shield to protect them in all temptations and dangers, an internal
   force and vigour within them, to make them do and suffer all things
   whatsoever His pleasure is they should do or suffer. They not only
   believe and know, but even feel and taste Him to be the universal,
   infinite Good. By means of a continual conversation with Him they are
   reduced to a blessed state of a perfect denudation of spirit, to an
   absolute, internal solitude, a transcendancy and forgetfulness of all
   created things, and especially of themselves, to an heavenly-mindedness
   and fixed attention to God only, and this even in the midst of
   employments to others never so distractive; and finally, to a gustful
   knowledge of all His infinite perfections, and a strict application of
   their spirits by love above knowledge, joined with a fruition and
   repose in Him with the whole extent of their wills; so that they become
   after an inexpressible manner partakers of the divine nature; yea, one
   spirit, one will, one love with Him, being in a sort deified, and
   enjoying as much of heaven here as mortality is capable of.

   8. To this purpose saith the same [4]St. Bernard: Amor Dei, vel amor
   Deus, Spiritus Sanctus amori hominis se infundens, afficit eum sibi, et
   amans semetipsum de homine Deus, secum unum efficit et spiritum ejus,
   et amorem ejus; that is, The love of God, or love which is God, to wit,
   the Holy Ghost pouring himself into the love of man (inclineth and)
   applieth man by love unto Himself; and thus God, loving Himself by man,
   maketh both his spirit and love one with Himself.

   9. A most blessed state this is certainly, being the portion chosen by
   Mary, which our Lord Himself calls optimam partem, the very best of all
   divine graces which God can bestow in this life; and wherewith He
   enriched in a singular manner those His two most highly favoured and
   most tenderly loved friends, St. John the Evangelist, and St. Mary
   Magdalen; but in a yet more supereminent degree His own most heavenly
   Virgin-Mother.

   10. Happy, therefore, are those souls upon which God bestows a desire
   and ambition so glorious as seriously and effectually to tend, aspire,
   and endeavour the compassing a design so heavenly: qualifying them not
   only with good natural propensions to those internal ways of love
   leading to this end, but also calling them to a state of life
   abstracted from the world, the vanities and solicitudes of it; and with
   all supernatural light to direct them in the secret paths of this love;
   and lastly, strong resolutions, and perseverance with courage to break
   through all discouragements, difficulties, persecutions, aridities, and
   whatsoever oppositions shall be made against them either from
   concupiscence within, or the world without, or the devil joining with
   both against a design of all others most hurtful to him and most
   destructive to his pretensions.

   11. And for a yet further and greater encouragement unto them to
   embrace and prosecute so glorious a design, they may take notice that,
   besides this (hitherto described) happy union of a contemplative soul
   with God by perfect charity, in the which the soul herself actively
   concurs, not only as to the fruition, but also in the disposing herself
   immediately thereto, there are other unions entirely supernatural, not
   at all procured, or so much as intended by the soul herself, but
   graciously and freely conferred by God upon some souls, in the which
   He, after a wonderful and inconceivable manner, affords them interior
   illuminations and touches, yet far more efficacious and divine: in all
   which the soul is a mere patient, and only suffers God to work His
   divine pleasure in her, being neither able to further nor hinder it;
   the which unions, though they last but even as it were a moment of
   time, yet do more illuminate and purify the soul than many years spent
   in active exercises of spiritual prayer or mortification could do.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4. A strong resolution necessary in the beginning.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Considering first the length and tediousness of the
   way to perfection in mortification,

   S:S: 10, 11. And also many degrees of prayer to be passed,

   S: 12. Therefore it is seldom attained, and not till a declining age,

   S: 13. Except by God's extraordinary favour to a few.

   S: 14. Yet old and young ought to enter into the way.

   S: 15. A motive to resolution are the difficulties in the way

   S:S: 16 &c. And those both from without and within.

   1. The end of a contemplative life, therefore, being so supereminently
   noble and divine that beatified souls do prosecute the same, and no
   other, in heaven, with this only difference, that the same beatifying
   object which is now obscurely seen by faith and imperfectly embraced by
   love shall hereafter be seen clearly and perfectly enjoyed, the primary
   and most general duty required in souls which by God's vocation do walk
   in the ways of the spirit, is to admire, love, and long after this
   union, and to fix an immovable resolution through God's grace and
   assistance to attempt and persevere in the prosecution of so glorious a
   design, in despite of all opposition, through light and darkness,
   through consolations and desolations, &c., as esteeming it to be
   cheaply purchased, though with the loss of all comforts that nature can
   find or expect in creatures.

   2. The fixing of such a courageous resolution is of so main importance
   and necessity that if it should happen to fail or yield to any, though
   the fiercest temptations, that may occur and are to be expected, so as
   not to be reassumed, the whole design will be ruined; and therefore
   devout souls are oftentimes to renew such a resolution, and especially
   when any difficulty presents itself; and for that purpose they will oft
   be put in mind thereof in these following instructions.

   3. It is not to be esteemed loftiness, presumption, or pride to tend to
   so sublime an end; but it is a good and laudable ambition, and most
   acceptable to God; yea, the root of it is true, solid humility joined
   with the love of God; for it proceeds from a vile esteem and some
   degrees of a holy hatred of ourselves, from whom we desire to fly; and
   a just esteem, obedience, and love of God, to whom only we desire to
   adhere and be inseparably united.

   4. Happy, therefore, is the soul that finds in herself an habitual
   thirst and longing after this union, if she will seek to assuage it by
   continual approaches to this Fountain of living waters, labouring
   thereto with daily external and internal workings. The very tendence to
   this union, in which our whole essential happiness consists, has in it
   some degrees of happiness, and is an imperfect union, disposing to a
   perfect one; for by such internal tendence and aspiring we get by
   little and little out of nature into God. And that without such an
   interior tendence and desire no exterior sufferances or observances
   will imprint any true virtue in the soul, or bring her nearer to God,
   we see in the example of Suso, who for the first five years of a
   religious profession found no satisfaction in soul at all,
   notwithstanding all his care and exactness in exterior regular
   observances and mortifications: he perceived plainly that still he
   wanted something, but what that was he could not tell, till God was
   pleased to discover it to him, and put him in the way to attain to his
   desire, which was in spirit to tend continually to this union, without
   which all his austerities and observances served little or nothing, as
   proceeding principally from self-love, self-judgment, and the
   satisfying of nature even by crossing it.

   Let nothing, therefore, deter a well-minded soul from persevering with
   fervour in this firm resolution. No, not the sight of her daily
   defects, imperfections, or sins, or remorses for them; but rather let
   her increase in courage even from her falls, and from the experience of
   her own impotency let her be incited to run more earnestly and adhere
   more firmly unto God, by whom she will be enabled to do all things and
   conquer all resistances.

   5. Now to the end that all sincerity may be used in the delivery of
   these instructions, and that all vain compliance and flattery may be
   avoided, the devout soul is to be informed that the way to perfection
   is, 1. both a very long, tedious way; and, 2. withal there are to be
   expected in it many grievous, painful, and bitter temptations and
   crosses to corrupt nature; as being a way that wholly and universally
   contradicts and destroys all the vain eases, contentments, interests,
   and designs of nature, teaching a soul to die unto self-love,
   self-judgment, and all propriety, and to raise herself out of nature,
   seeking to live in a region exalted above nature: to wit, the region of
   the spirit; into which being once come, she will find nothing but light
   and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. The which difficulties considered,
   instead of being discouraged, she will, if she be truly touched with
   God's Spirit, rather increase her fervour and courage to pursue a
   design so noble and divine, for which alone she was created;
   especially, 3. considering the infinite danger of a negligent, tepid,
   and spiritually slothful life, and likewise the security and benefit of
   being but truly in the way to perfection, though she should never
   attain to it in this life.

   6. First, therefore, to demonstrate that the way to perfection must
   needs be long and tedious, even to souls well-disposed thereto both by
   nature and education (for to others it is a way unpassable without
   extreme difficulty), this will easily be acknowledged by any
   well-minded soul that by her own experience will consider how
   obstinate, inflexible, and of how gluey and tenacious a nature corrupt
   self-love is in her; how long a time must pass before she can subdue
   any one habitual ill inclination and affection in herself. What
   fallings and risings again there are in our passions and corrupt
   desires, insomuch as when they seem to be quite mortified and almost
   forgotten, they will again raise themselves and combat us with as great
   or perhaps greater violence than before. Now till the poisonous root of
   self-love be withered, so as that we do not knowingly and deliberately
   suffer it to spring forth and bear fruit (for utterly killed it never
   will be in this life); till we have lost at least all affection to all
   our corrupt desires, even the most venial, which are almost infinite,
   perfect charity will never reign in our souls, and consequently perfect
   union in spirit with God cannot be expected; for charity lives and
   grows according to the measure that self-love is abated, and no
   further.

   7. Souls that first enter into the internal ways of the spirit, or that
   have made no great progress in them, are guided by a very dim light,
   being able to discover and discern only a few grosser defects and
   inordinations; but by persevering in the exercises of mortification and
   prayer, this light will be increased, and then they will proportionably
   every day more and more discover a thousand secret and formerly
   invisible impurities in their intentions, self-seekings, hypocrisies,
   and close designs of nature, pursuing her own corrupt designs in the
   very best actions, cherishing nature one way when she mortifies it
   another, and favouring pride even when she exercises humility. Now a
   clear light to discover all these almost infinite depravations not only
   in our sensitive nature, but also in the superior soul (which are far
   more secret, manifold, and dangerous), and a courage with success to
   combat and overcome them, must be the effect of a long-continued
   practice of prayer and mortification.

   8. The want of a due knowledge or consideration hereof is the cause
   that some good souls, after they have made some progress in internal
   ways, becomes disheartened, and in danger to stop or quite leave them;
   for though at the first, being (as usually they are) prevented by God
   with a tender sensible devotion (which our Holy Father calls fervorem
   novitium), they do with much zeal and, as it seems to them., with good
   effect begin the exercises of mortification and prayer; yet afterward,
   such sensible fervour and tenderness ceasing (as it seldom fails to do)
   by that new light which they have gotten, they discern a world of
   defects, formerly undiscovered, which they erroneously think were not
   in them before; whereupon, fearing that instead of making progress,
   they are in a worse state than when they began, they will be apt to
   suspect that they are in a wrong way. This proceeds from a preconceived
   mistake, that because in times of light and devotion the soul finds
   herself carried with much fervour to God, and perceives but small
   contradictions and rebellions in inferior nature, therefore she is very
   forward in the way to perfection. Whereas it is far otherwise; for
   nature is not so easily conquered as she imagines, neither is the way
   to perfection so easy and short. Many changes she must expect; many
   risings and fallings; sometimes light, and sometimes darkness;
   sometimes calmness of passions, and presently after, it may be, fiercer
   combats than before; and these successions of changes repeated, God
   knows how oft, before the end approacheth.

   9. Yea, it will likely happen to such souls, that even the formerly
   well-known grosser defects in them will seem to increase, and to grow
   more hard to be quelled after they have been competently advanced in
   internal ways; and the reason is, because, having set themselves to
   combat corrupt nature in all her perverse, crooked, and impure desires,
   and being sequestered from the vanities of the world, they find
   themselves in continual wrestlings and agonies, and want those pleasing
   diversions, conversations, and recreations, with which, whilst they
   lived a secular, negligent life, they could interrupt or put off their
   melancholic thoughts and unquietness. But if they would take courage
   and, instead of seeking ease from nature (further than discretion
   allows), have recourse for remedy by prayer to God, they would find
   that such violent temptations are an assured sign that they are in a
   secure and happy way, and that when God sees it is best for them, they
   shall come off from such combats with victory and comfort.

   10. Now, as from the consideration of the tediousness of a perfect
   universal mortification of the corrupt affections of nature, it does
   appear that hasty perfection is not ordinarily to be expected, and
   where there are appearances of extraordinary lights and supernatural
   visits in souls not thoroughly mortified, it is to be feared that there
   hath been some secret exorbitancy in the proceedings of such souls,
   some deeply rooted pride, &c., which hath exposed them to the devil's
   illusions, so that their state is very dangerous, the like will appear
   if we cast our eyes upon the nature and degrees of internal prayer, in
   the perfection of which the end of a contemplative life, which is
   perfect union in spirit with God, doth consist.

   11. For a soul must, 1. ordinarily speaking, pass through the way of
   external and imaginary exercises of prayer, in the which she must
   tarry, God knows how long; yea, without a discreet diligence and
   constancy in them, she may perhaps end her days therein. 2. Then when
   her affections do so abound, and are sufficiently ripe, so as that
   discourse is not needful or becomes of little efficacy, she is to
   betake herself to the exercise of the will, in the which a very long
   time must ordinarily be spent before she can chase away distracting
   grosser images, and before the heart be so replenished with the Divine
   Spirit that, without any election or deliberation, it will of itself
   almost continually break forth into aspirations and pure elevations of
   the superior will. 3. Being arrived to this happy state, only God knows
   for how long a time she is to continue therein, there being almost
   infinite degrees of aspirations, each one exceeding the former in
   purity, before she be ripe for the divine inaction. 4. And having
   gotten that, a very long time is like to be spent, very oft in most
   woeful obscurities and desolations, before she arrive, 5. to the state
   of perfection. Now all these degrees of prayer are to be attended with
   proportionable degrees of mortification; so that no wonder is it if so
   very few, even of those whose profession it is to aspire thereunto, do
   find or attain unto this end, partly out of ignorance and error, whilst
   they place perfection in an exact performance of outward observances
   and austerities, the which (though being well used they may be
   certainly very proper helps to perfection, and are accordingly to be
   duly esteemed, yet), if they be undertaken for any end of nature, and
   not for the purifying of the interior and disposing it for more perfect
   prayer, are of no value at all, but rather proceed from and nourish
   self-love, pride, &c., and partly out of want of courage and diligence
   to pursue constantly the way that they know leads thereto.

   12. Upon these grounds mystic authors do teach that, though it be a
   very great advantage to a soul to tread in these internal ways from her
   youth, before she be darkened and made sick with vicious habits, the
   combating against which will cause great difficulty, pain, and
   tediousness to her, yet she will hardly arrive unto the aforesaid
   active union and experimental perception of God's presence in her till
   almost a declining age; by reason that though her natural ill
   inclinations may be mortified in a reasonable perfection before that
   time, yet till such age there will remain too much vigour in corporal
   nature, and an unstableness in the inward senses, which will hinder
   that quietness and composedness of mind necessary to such an union.
   Whereas some persons of a well-disposed temper and virtuous education
   have in a few years arrived thereunto, though they did not begin an
   internal course till their ripe age, but yet supplying that delay by an
   heroical resolution and vigorous pursuit of the practices proper
   thereunto; but as for those that have been viciously bred, there will
   be necessary a wonderful measure of grace and very extraordinary
   mortifications before such souls can be fitted thereunto.

   13. Now what hath been said concerning the length of the way, and the
   multiplicity of conditions requisite to the attaining to the end of it,
   is to be understood with relation to the ordinary course of God's
   providence. But God, who is the free Master and Disposer of His own
   graces, may bestow them upon whom and when He pleases, either
   miraculously increasing His grace in some souls, or conferring His
   supernatural favours before the time that they are ripe for them, as He
   did to St. Catharine of Siena (and some others), who, in their younger
   years, have been favoured with a passive union. Mystic authors,
   likewise, except from the ordinary course, the case where God upon the
   death of well-willed and well-disposed souls happening before
   perfection attained, supplieth after some extraordinary manner what was
   wanting, and effects that in a moment which would otherwise have
   required a long space of time; and this, say they, God frequently doth
   in regard of the serious and fervent wills that He seeth in such souls,
   which were resolved to prosecute the way of His love for all their
   lives, though they should have lasted never so long.

   14. But be the way to perfection never so long, the design itself is so
   noble and the end so divine, that a soul cannot begin to aspire unto it
   too soon, nor take too much pains to procure it. Yea, the very desire
   and serious pursuance of so heavenly a design brings so great blessings
   to the soul, and puts her in so secure a way of salvation, though she
   should never perfectly attain unto it in this life, that there is none
   so old nor so overgrown with ill habits but ought to attempt, and with
   perseverance pursue it, being assured that at least after death he
   shall for his good desire and endeavours be rewarded with the crown due
   to contemplatives. For it is enough for a soul to be in the way, and to
   correspond to such enablements as she hath received; and then in what
   degree of spirit soever she dies, she dies according to the will and
   ordination of God, to whom she must be resigned, and consequently she
   will be very happy; whereas if, out of despair of attaining to
   perfection, she should rest and do as it were nothing, contenting
   herself with outward ceremonious observances, she will be accounted
   before God as having been wanting to perform that whereto her
   profession obliged her. Though the truth is, the soul being a pure
   spirit, consisting of mere activity, cannot cease doing and desiring
   something; so that if her desires and operations be not directed to the
   right end, they will go a wrong way; and if a soul do not continually
   strive to get out of nature, she will plunge herself deeper and deeper
   into it.

   15. The second motive to induce a soul to arm herself with a great
   courage and strong resolution in her tendence to perfection is because,
   as the wise man says, He that sets himself to serve our Lord
   (especially in so high and divine an employment as contemplation) must
   prepare his soul for temptations greater and more unusual than formerly
   he had experience of; the which temptations will come from all coasts,
   both from without and within.

   16. For an internal life, being not only a life hidden from the world,
   but likewise directly contrary to the ways of carnal reason, yea, even
   different from common notion of virtue and piety which ordinary
   Christians, yea, too many even in religion have also, who approve only
   of actions and ways which outwardly make a fair show, as solemn
   performance of divine offices, external formal regularities,
   mortifications, &c; hence it is that very sharp persecutions have
   almost always attended those whom God hath called to revive the true
   spirit of religion (too generally decayed, and in many religious
   communities utterly unknown), by teaching souls not to neglect, but on
   the contrary to be very careful in an exact performance and just esteem
   of such duties; but yet to place perfection in exercises of the spirit,
   and to esteem all other observances no further than as they serve to
   advance and increase perfection in spirit; since most certain it is,
   that if in and for themselves alone and without any interior direction
   for the purifying of the soul they be esteemed (and performed) as parts
   of real perfection, and not chiefly as helps of internal devotion and
   purity, they will rather become hindrances to contemplation, nourishing
   pride, contempt of others, &c., and be the ruin of true charity.
   Examples of such persecutions are obvious in stories, witness the
   sufferings of Thaulerus, Suso, [5]St. Teresa, St. John of the Cross,
   &c.

   17. Again, in the world, the lives of those that God hath called to the
   exercises of an internal life, being so different from and unlike to
   others, though ordinary, well-meaning Christians, by reason that they
   abstract themselves from secular businesses (except such as necessarily
   belong to their vocation), likewise from worldly conventions,
   correspondence, and vainly complying friendships; hence it is that the
   sight of them is unacceptable to their neighbors and acquaintance, as
   if they did silently condemn their liberties. For this reason, they are
   apt to raise and disperse evil reports of them, calling them
   illuminates, pretenders to extraordinary visits and lights, persons
   that walk in mirabilibus super se, &c.; or at least to deride them as
   silly, seduced, melancholy spirits, that follow unusual and dangerous
   ways.

   18. All these, and many others the like persecutions, calumnies, and
   contempts, a well-disposed soul that purely seeks God must expect and
   be armed against. And knowing that they do not come by chance, but by
   the most wise, holy, and merciful providence of God for her good, to
   exercise her courage in the beginning, and to give her an opportunity
   to testify her true esteem and love to God and spiritual things, let
   her hence not be affrighted, but rather pursue internal ways more
   vigorously, as knowing that there cannot be a better proof of the
   excellency of them than that they are displeasing to carnal or at least
   ignorant men unexperienced in such divine ways. Let her not with
   passion judge or condone those that are contrary to her, for many of
   them may have a good intention and zeal therein, though a zeal not
   directed by knowledge. If, therefore, she will attend God, following
   His divine inspirations, &c., she will see that God will give her light
   and courage, and much inward security in her way.

   19. But her greatest and more frequent persecutions will be from her
   own corrupt nature and vicious habits rooted in the soul, the which
   will assault her many times with temptations and inward bitternesses
   and agonies, sharper and stranger than she did expect, or could perhaps
   imagine. And no wonder, for her design and continual endeavours both in
   mortification and prayer being to raise herself out of, and above
   nature, to contradict nature in all its vain pleasures and interests,
   she can expect no other, but that nature will continually struggle
   against the spirit; especially being enflamed by the devil, who will
   not fail to employ all his arts, all his malice and fury, to disturb a
   design so utterly destructive to his infernal kingdom established in
   the souls of carnal men. The well-minded soul, therefore, must make a
   general strong resolution to bear all with as much quietness as may be,
   to distrust herself entirely, to rely only upon God, and to seek unto
   Him by prayer, and all will assuredly be well. She will find that the
   yoke of Christ, which at the first was burdensome, will, being borne
   with constancy, become easy and delightful; yea, though she should
   never be able to subdue the resistance of evil inclinations in her, yet
   as long as there remains in her a sincere endeavor after it, no such
   ill inclinations will hinder her happiness.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S:S: 1, 2. A third motive to resolution is the danger of tepidity, of
   which the nature and root is discovered.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5. The miseries of a tepid religious person that is ignorant
   of internal ways.

   S:S: 6, 7. Or of one that knows them, but neglects to pursue them.

   S:S: 8, 9. How pestilent such are in a community.

   S: 10. On the other side, an indiscreet passionate fervour may be as
   dangerous as negligence.

   1. A third yet more pressing motive to a courageous resolution of
   prosecuting internal ways once begun, and a strong proof of the extreme
   necessity thereof, is the consideration of the extreme danger and
   miseries unexpressible of a negligent and tepid life, whether in
   religion or in the world; the which not only renders perfection
   impossible to be attained, but endangers the very root of essential
   sanctity and all pretension to eternal happiness, as among other mystic
   writers, Harphius in his twelve mortifications earnestly demonstrates.

   2. Tepidity is a bitter poisonous root fixed in the minds of negligent
   Christians, who though out of a servile fear they abstain from an
   habitual practice of acknowledged mortal actual sins, and therefore
   (groundlessly enough) think themselves secure from the danger of hell,
   yet they perform their external necessary obligations to God and their
   brethren sleepily and heartlessly, without any true affection,
   contenting themselves with the things however outwardly done; yea,
   perhaps knowing no perfection beyond this; but in the mean time remain
   full of self-love, inward pride, sensual desires, aversion from
   internal conversation with God, &c. And the ground and cause of this
   pernicious tepidity is want of affection and esteem of spiritual
   things, and a voluntary affection to venial sins (not as they are sins,
   but as the objects of them are easeful or delightful to nature), joined
   with a willfulness not to avoid the occasions of them, nor to do any
   more in God's service than what themselves judge to be necessary for
   the escaping of hell.

   3. Such persons, if they live in religion, must needs pass very
   uncomfortable and discontented lives, having excluded themselves from
   the vain entertainments and pleasures of the world, and yet retaining a
   strong affection to them in their hearts, with an incapacity of
   enjoying them. They must undergo all obligations, austerities, and
   crosses incident to a religious state without comfort, but only in
   having dispatched them, with very little benefit to their souls, and
   with extreme wearisomeness and unwillingness. Now, what a resemblance
   to hell hath such a life, where there is an impossibility freely to
   enjoy what the soul principally desires, and where she is forced
   continually to do and suffer such things as are extremely contrary to
   her inclinations!

   4. Whereas, if souls would courageously at once give themselves wholly
   to God, and with a discreet fervour combat against corrupt nature,
   pursuing their internal exercises, they would find that all things
   would cooeperate, not only to their eternal good, but even to their
   present contentment and joy. They would find pleasure even in their
   greatest mortifications and crosses, by considering the love with which
   God sends them, and the great benefit that their spirit reaps by them.
   What contentment can be greater to any soul than to become a true
   inward friend of God, chained unto Him with a love, the like whereto
   never was between any mortal creatures? to know and even feel that she
   belongs to God, and that God is continually watchful over her, and
   careful of her salvation? None of which comforts tepid souls can hope
   to taste; but, on the contrary, are not only continually tortured with
   present discontents, but much more with a fear and horror, considering
   their doubtfulness about their future state.

   5. If such tepid souls be ignorant of the internal ways of the spirit
   (which without some fault of their own they scarce can be), when they
   come to die, it is not conceivable what apprehensions and horrors they
   will feel; considering that a settled willful affection to venial sins
   brings a soul to an imminent danger of a frequent incurring actual
   mortal sins, the which, though they be not of the greater kind of
   enormous sins, yet they may be no less dangerous, because less
   corrigible, such as are those spiritual sins of pride, murmuring,
   factiousness, envy, ambition, &c.; besides which, how is it possible
   for them to give an account of sins of omission, of the want of
   perfecting their souls by prayer, &c., of the avoiding of which they
   never took any care, although their profession and vows obliged them
   thereto?

   6. Again, if tepidity (though not in so high a degree) be found in
   souls that are acquainted speculatively with the internal ways of the
   spirit, and their obligation to pursue them in order to perfection, but
   either for want of courage dare not apply themselves seriously to them,
   or do it very faintly, coldly, or with frequent interruptions, and only
   are not resolved to relinquish and abjure such ways, such as though
   they have not a willful affection to venial sins, yet are for the most
   part willfully negligent in resisting them,--such souls ought to
   consider that their case in all respects approaches near to the
   miserable condition of the former, and they will have guilt enough to
   take away all comfort almost in a religious state, and to give them
   just apprehensions for the future life, of which they have no security.

   7. For when such souls approach near unto death, they will then too
   late consider that for want of diligent prayer there may be, yea,
   assuredly are in them, a world of inordinations, impurities, and
   defects undiscovered by them, and therefore can neither be acknowledged
   nor bewailed; so that they cannot have any assurance of the state and
   inclinations of their souls; besides, they know themselves to have been
   guilty of a life spent in an uninterrupted ingratitude to God, who gave
   them light to see the ways to perfection which their profession obliged
   them to walk in, and yet willfully they neglected to make use of such
   light, or to make progress in those ways, &c. (and this is an
   aggravation of guilt beyond the former); they are conscious likewise of
   an unexcusable and long-continued unfaithfulness, never almost
   complying with the divine inspirations which daily urged them to put
   themselves resolutely into that only secure way of an internal life,
   nor ever vigorously resisting the sins and imperfections which they did
   discover in themselves, &c. Such sad thoughts as these pressing (as
   usually they do) one upon another near the approaches of death, what
   grievous apprehensions, what terrible uncertainties must they needs
   cause in tepid souls, then most sensible of dangers and fears! so that
   their lives will be full of anguish and continual remorse, and their
   deaths very uncomfortable.

   8. Lastly, to all these miseries of a tepid life, this also may be
   added as an increase of the guilt, and consequently an aggravation of
   the dangerous state of souls infected with that poison, which is, that
   they do not only themselves most ungratefully withdraw their own
   affections from God and divine things, but by their ill example, by
   misspending the time in vain extroverted conversations, by
   discountenancing those that are fervourous in internal ways, &c., they
   infect their companions, and so treacherously defraud Almighty God of
   the affections of others also. So that a tepid religious person, though
   given to no enormous excesses, is oft more harmful in a community than
   an open, scandalous liver; because none that hath any care of himself
   but will beware of such an one as this latter is; whereas a tepid soul
   unperceivably instills into others the poisonous infection wherewith
   herself is tainted.

   9. From the grounds and considerations here mentioned, it doth appear
   how necessary it is for a devout soul, both in the beginning and
   pursuance of a contemplative life, to excite and fortify her courageous
   resolution not to be daunted by discouragements either from within or
   without, but at what price soever, and with what labours and sufferings
   soever, with fervour to persevere in the exercises and duties belonging
   thereto, accounting tepidity and spiritual sloth as the very bane of
   her whole design, the which, if it be yielded unto, though but a
   little, it will gather more force, and at last grow irresistible.

   10. But withal she is to be advised that such her courage and fervour
   must be exercised, not impetuously out of passion, or such impulses as
   a fit of sensible devotion will sometimes produce in her; but this
   fervour and resolution must chiefly be seated in the superior will, and
   regulated by spiritual discretion, according to her present forces,
   both natural and supernatural, and the measure of grace bestowed on
   her, and no further; for there may be as much harm by outrunning grace,
   as by neglecting to correspond unto it. Hence, it oft comes to pass,
   that many well-minded souls, being either pushed forward by an
   indiscreet passionate zeal, or advised by unexperienced directors to
   undertake unnecessarily and voluntarily either rigorous mortifications
   or excessive tasks of devotions, and wanting strength to continue them,
   have become able to do nothing at all; so that affecting too hastily to
   attain unto perfection sooner than God did enable them thereto, they so
   overburden themselves that they are forced to give over quite all
   tendence to it. Therefore we must be contented to proceed in such a
   pace as may be lasting, and that will suffice.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   A confirmation of what hath been said, particularly of the necessity of
   a strong resolution and courage to persevere, shown by the parable of a
   pilgrim travelling to Jerusalem, out of [6]Scala Perfectionis.

   1. Now, for a further confirmation and more effectual recommendation of
   what hath hitherto been delivered touching the nature of a
   contemplative life in general, the supereminent nobleness of its end,
   the great difficulties to be expected in it, and the absolute necessity
   of a firm courage to persevere and continually to make progress in it,
   whatsoever it costs us (without which resolution it is in vain to set
   one step forward in these ways), I will here annex a passage extracted
   out of that excellent treatise called [7]Scala Perfectionis, written by
   that eminent contemplative, Dr. Walter Hilton, a Carthusian monk, in
   which, under the parable of a devout pilgrim desirous to travel to
   Jerusalem (which he interprets the vision of peace or contemplation),
   he delivers instructions very proper and efficacious touching the
   behaviour requisite in a devout soul for such a journey; the true sense
   of which advices I will take liberty so to deliver briefly as,
   notwithstanding, not to omit any important matter there more largely,
   and according to the old fashion, expressed.

   2. "There was a man," saith he, [12] "that had a great desire to go to
   Jerusalem; and because he knew not the right way, he addressed himself
   for advice to one that he hoped was not unskillful in it, and asked him
   whether there was any way passable thither. The other answered, that
   the way thither was both long and full of very great difficulties; yea,
   that there were many ways that seemed and promised to lead thither, but
   the dangers of them were too great. Nevertheless, one way he knew
   which, if he would diligently pursue according to the directions and
   marks that he would give him,--though, said he, I cannot promise thee a
   security from many frights, beatings, and other ill-usage and
   temptations of all kinds; but if thou canst have courage and patience
   enough to suffer them without quarrelling, or resisting, or troubling
   thyself, and so pass on, having this only in thy mind, and sometimes on
   thy tongue, I have nought, I am nought, I desire nought but to be at
   Jerusalem,--my life for thine, thou wilt escape safe with thy life and
   in a competent time arrive thither.

   3. "The pilgrim, overjoyed with these news, answered: So I may have my
   life safe, and may at last come to the place that I above all things
   only desire, I care not what miseries I suffer in the way. Therefore
   let me know only what course I am to take, and, God willing, I will not
   fail to observe carefully your directions. The guide replied: Since
   thou hast so good a will, though I myself never was so happy as to be
   in Jerusalem, notwithstanding, be confident that by the instructions
   that I shall give thee, if thou wilt follow them, thou shalt come safe
   to thy journey's end.

   4. "Now the advice that I am to give thee in brief is this: Before thou
   set the first step into the highway that leads thither, thou must be
   firmly grounded in the true Catholic faith; moreover, whatsoever sins
   thou findest in thy conscience, thou must seek to purge them away by
   hearty penance and absolution, according to the laws of the Church.
   This being done, begin thy journey in God's name, but be sure to go
   furnished with two necessary instruments, humility and charity, both
   which are contained in the forementioned speech, which must always be
   ready in thy mind: I am nought, I have nought, I desire but only one
   thing, and that is our Lord Jesus, and to be with him in peace at
   Jerusalem. The meaning and virtue of these words therefore thou must
   have continually, at least in thy thoughts, either expressly or
   virtually; humility says, I am nought, I have nought; love says, I
   desire nought but Jesus. These two companions thou must never part
   from; neither will they willingly be separated from one another, for
   they accord very lovingly together. And the deeper thou groundest
   thyself in humility, the higher thou raisest thyself in charity; for
   the more thou seest and feelest thyself to be nothing, with the more
   fervent love wilt thou desire Jesus, that by Him, who is all, thou
   mayest become something.

   5. "Now this same humility is to be exercised, not so much in
   considering thine own self, thy sinfulness, and misery (though to do
   thus at the first be very good and profitable), but rather in a quiet
   loving sight of the infinite endless being and goodness of Jesus; the
   which beholding of Jesus must be either through grace in a savourous
   feeling knowledge of him, or at least in a full and firm faith in Him.
   And such a beholding, when thou shalt attain to it, will work in thy
   mind a far more pure, spiritual, solid, and perfect humility, than the
   former way of beholding thyself, the which produces a humility more
   gross, boisterous, and unquiet. By that thou wilt see and feel thyself,
   not only to be the most wretched filthy creature in the world, but also
   in the very substance of thy soul (setting aside the foulness of sin)
   to be a mere nothing, for truly, in and of thyself and in regard to
   Jesus (who really and in truth is all), thou art a mere nothing; and
   till thou hast the love of Jesus, yea, and feelest that thou hast His
   love, although thou hast done to thy seeming never so many good deeds
   both outward and inward, yet in truth thou hast nothing at all, for
   nothing will abide in thy soul and fill it but the love of Jesus.
   Therefore, cast all other things behind thee, and forget them, that
   thou mayest have that which is best of all; and thus doing, thou wilt
   become a true pilgrim that leaves behind him houses, and wife, and
   children, and friends, and goods, and makes himself poor and bare of
   all things, that he may go on his journey lightly and merrily without
   hindrance.

   6. "Well, now thou art in thy way travelling towards Jerusalem; the
   which travelling consists in working inwardly, and (when need is)
   outwardly too, such works as are suitable to thy condition and state,
   and such as will help and increase in thee this gracious desire that
   thou hast to love Jesus only. Let thy works be what they will,
   thinking, or reading, or preaching, or labouring, &c.; if thou findest
   that they draw thy mind from worldly vanity, and confirm thy heart and
   will more to the love of Jesus, it is good and profitable for thee to
   use them. And if thou findest that through custom such works do in time
   lose their savour and virtue to increase this love, and that it seems
   to thee that thou feelest more grace and spiritual profit in some
   other, take these other and leave those, for though the inclination and
   desire of thy heart to Jesus must ever be unchangeable, nevertheless
   thy spiritual works thou shalt use in thy manner of praying, reading,
   &c., to the end to feed and strengthen this desire, may well be
   changed, according as thou feelest thyself by grace disposed in the
   applying of thy heart. Bind not thyself, therefore, unchangeably to
   voluntary customs, for that will hinder the freedom of thy heart to
   love Jesus, if grace would visit thee specially.

   7. "Before thou hast made many steps in the way, thou must expect a
   world of enemies of several kinds, that will beset thee round about,
   and all of them will endeavour busily to hinder thee from going
   forward; yea, and if they can by any means, they will, either by
   persuasions, flatteries, or violence, force thee to return home again
   to those vanities that thou hast forsaken. For there is nothing grieves
   them so much as to see a resolute desire in thy heart to love Jesus,
   and to travail to find Him. Therefore they will all conspire to put out
   of thy heart that good desire and love in which all virtues are
   comprised.

   8. "Thy first enemies that will assault thee will be fleshly desires
   and vain fears of thy corrupt heart; and with these there will join
   unclean spirits, that with sights and temptations will seek to allure
   thy heart to them, and to withdraw it from Jesus. But whatsoever they
   say, believe them not; but betake thyself to thy old only secure
   remedy, answering ever thus, I am nought, I have nought, and I desire
   nought, but only the love of Jesus, and so hold forth on thy way
   desiring Jesus only.

   9. "If they endeavour to put dreads and scruples into thy mind, and
   would make thee believe that thou hast not done penance enough, as thou
   oughtest for thy sins, but that some old sins remain in thy heart not
   yet confessed, or not sufficiently confessed and absolved, and that
   therefore thou must needs return home and do penance better before thou
   have the boldness to go to Jesus, do not believe a word of all that
   they say, for thou art sufficiently acquitted of thy sins, and there is
   no need at all that thou shouldst stay to ransack thy conscience, for
   this will now but do thee harm, and either put thee quite out of thy
   way, or at least unprofitably delay thy travailing in it.

   10. "If they shall tell thee that thou art not worthy to have the love
   of Jesus, or to see Jesus, and therefore that thou oughtest not to be
   so presumptuous to desire and seek after it, believe them not, but go
   on and say: It is not because I am worthy, but because I am unworthy,
   that I therefore desire to have the love of Jesus, for if once I had
   it, it would make me worthy. I will therefore never cease desiring it
   till I have obtained it. For, for it only was I created, therefore, say
   and do what you will, I will desire it continually, I will never cease
   to pray for it, and so doing I hope to obtain it.

   11. "If thou meetest with any that seem friends unto thee, and that in
   kindness would stop thy progress by entertaining thee, and seeking to
   draw thee to sensual mirth by vain discourses and carnal solaces,
   whereby thou wilt be in danger to forget thy pilgrimage, give a deaf
   ear to them, answer them not; think only on this, That thou wouldest
   fain be at Jerusalem. And if they proffer thee gifts and preferments,
   heed them not, but think ever on Jerusalem.

   12. "And if men despise thee, or lay any false calumnies to thy charge,
   giving thee ill names; if they go about to defraud thee or rob thee;
   yea, if they beat thee and use thee despitefully and cruelly, for thy
   life contend not with them, strive not against them, nor be angry with
   them, but content thyself with the harm received, and go on quietly as
   if nought were done, that thou take no further harm; think only on
   this, that to be at Jerusalem deserves to be purchased with all this
   ill-usage or more, and that there thou shalt be sufficiently repaired
   for all thy losses, and recompensed for all hard usages by the way.

   13. "If thine enemies see that thou growest courageous and bold, and
   that thou wilt neither be seduced by flatteries nor disheartened with
   the pains and troubles of thy journey, but rather well contented with
   them, then they will begin to be afraid of thee; yet for all that, they
   will never cease pursuing thee--they will follow thee all along the
   way, watching all advantages against thee; and ever and anon they will
   set upon thee, seeking either with flatteries or frights to stop thee,
   and drive thee back if they can. But fear them not; hold on thy way,
   and have nothing in thy mind but Jerusalem and Jesus, whom thou wilt
   find there.

   14. "If thy desire of Jesus still continues and grows more strong, so
   that it makes thee go on thy ways courageously, they will then tell
   thee that it may very well happen that thou wilt fall into corporal
   sickness, and perhaps such a sickness as will bring strange fancies
   into thy mind, and melancholic apprehensions; or perhaps thou wilt fall
   into great want, and no man will offer to help thee, by occasion of
   which misfortunes thou wilt be grievously tempted by thy ghostly
   enemies, the which will then insult over thee, and tell thee that thy
   folly and proud presumption have brought thee to this miserable pass,
   that thou canst neither help thyself, nor will any man help thee, but
   rather hinder those that would. And all this they will do to the end to
   increase thy melancholic and unquiet apprehensions, or to provoke thee
   to anger or malice against thy Christian brethren, or to murmur against
   Jesus, who, perhaps for thy trial, seems to hide His face from thee.
   But still neglect all these suggestions as though thou heardest them
   not. Be angry with nobody but thyself. And as for all thy diseases,
   poverty, and whatsoever other sufferings (for who can reckon all that
   may befall thee?), take Jesus in thy mind, think on the lesson that
   thou art taught, and say, I am nought, I have nought, I care for nought
   in this world, and I desire nought but the love of Jesus, that I may
   see him in peace at Jerusalem.

   15. "But if it shall happen sometimes, as likely it will, that through
   some of these temptations and thy own frailty, thou stumble and perhaps
   fall down, and get some harm thereby, or that thou for some time be
   turned a little out of the right way, as soon as possibly may be come
   again to thyself, get up again and return into the right way, using
   such remedies for thy hurt as the Church ordains; and do not trouble
   thyself over much or over long with thinking unquietly on thy past
   misfortune and pain--abide not in such thoughts, for that will do thee
   more harm, and give advantage to thine enemies. Therefore, make haste
   to go on in thy travail and working again, as if nothing had happened.
   Keep but Jesus in thy mind, and a desire to gain His love, and nothing
   shall be able to hurt thee.

   16. "At last, when thine enemies perceive that thy will to Jesus is so
   strong that thou wilt not spare neither for poverty nor mischief, for
   sickness nor fancies, for doubts nor fears, for life nor death, no, nor
   for sins neither, but ever forth thou wilt go on with that one thing of
   seeking the love of Jesus, and with nothing else; and that thou
   despisest and scarce markest anything that they say to the contrary,
   but holdest on in thy praying and other spiritual works (yet always
   with discretion and submission), then they grow even enraged, and will
   spare no manner of most cruel usage. They will come closer to thee than
   ever before, and betake themselves to their last and most dangerous
   assault, and that is, to bring into the sight of thy mind all thy good
   deeds and virtues, showing thee that all men praise thee, and love
   thee, and bear thee great veneration for thy sanctity, &c. And all this
   they do to the end to raise vain joy and pride in thy heart. But if
   thou tenderest thy life, thou wilt hold all this flattery and falsehood
   to be a deadly poison to thy soul, mingled with honey; therefore, away
   with it; cast it from thee, saying, thou wilt have none of it, but thou
   wouldest be at Jerusalem.

   17. "And to the end, to put thyself out of the danger and reach of all
   such temptations, suffer not thy thoughts willingly to run about the
   world, but draw them all inwards, fixing their upon one only thing,
   which is Jesus: set thyself to think only on Him, to know Him, to love
   Him; and after thou hast for a good time brought thyself to do thus,
   then whatsoever thou seest or feelest inwardly that is not He, will be
   unwelcome and painful to thee, because it will stand in thy way to the
   seeing and seeking of Him whom thou only desirest.

   18. "But yet, if there be any work or outward business which thou art
   obliged to do, or that charity or present necessity requires of thee,
   either concerning thyself or thy Christian brother, fail not to do it;
   dispatch it as well and as soon as well thou canst, and let it not
   tarry long in thy thoughts, for it will but hinder thee in thy
   principal business. But if it be any other matter of no necessity, or
   that concerns thee not in particular, trouble not thyself nor distract
   thy thoughts about it, but rid it quickly out of thy heart, saying
   still thus, I am nought, I can do nought, I have nought, and nought do
   I desire to have, but only Jesus and his love.

   19. "Thou wilt be forced, as all other pilgrims are, to take ofttimes,
   by the way, refreshments, meats and drink and sleep, yea, and sometimes
   innocent recreations; in all which things rise discretion, and take
   heed of foolish scrupulosity about them. Fear not that they will be
   much a hindrance to thee, for though they seem to stay thee for a
   while, they will further thee and give thee strength to walk on more
   courageously for a good long time after.

   20. "To conclude, remember that thy principal aim, and indeed only
   business, is to knit thy thoughts to the desire of Jesus--to strengthen
   this desire daily by prayer and other spiritual workings, to the end it
   may never go out of thy heart. And whatsoever thou findest proper to
   increase that desire, be it praying or reading, speaking or being
   silent, travailing or reposing, make use of it for the time, as long as
   thy soul finds savour in it, and as long as it increases this desire of
   having or enjoying nothing but the love of Jesus, and the blessed sight
   of Jesus in true peace in Jerusalem; and be assured that this good
   desire thus cherished and continually increased will bring thee safe
   unto the end of thy pilgrimage."

   21. This is the substance of the parable of the Spiritual Pilgrim
   travailing in the ways of contemplation; the which I have more largely
   set down because, by the contexture of it, not only we see confirmed
   what is already written before, but also we have a draught and scheme
   represented, according to which all the following instructions will be
   conformably answerable.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [12] Scala Perfect. par. 2, cap. 21, 22, 23. [A new edition of this
   most excellent spiritual work has been lately brought out by Father
   Ephrem Guy, O.S.B. Richardson, London and Derby.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  THE

SECOND SECTION OF THE FIRST TREATISE,

   IN WHICH IS DECLARED AND PROVED THAT GOD ONLY BY HIS HOLY INSPIRATIONS
   IS THE GUIDE AND DIRECTOR IN AN INTERNAL CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S: 1. In internal contemplative ways a guide is necessary, and why?

   S:S: 2, 3, 4. All good Christians have within their souls two internal
   guides. 1. The spirit of corrupt nature, which is never wholly
   expelled. 2. The Spirit of God. And these teach contrarily, and for
   contrary ends.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Divine inspirations, beyond the light of common
   grace, are to be our light in internal ways.

   S:S: 10, 11. In what special things such inspirations do direct
   internal livers.

   S:S: 12, 13. They ordinarily teach rather cessation and not doing than
   much doing.

   S:S: 14, 15. Extraordinary inspirations, illuminations, &c., not
   pretended to.

   1. Having hitherto treated of a contemplative life in general, the
   nature and end of it, together with the necessary disposition required
   in souls that, according to their vocation or profession, are desirous
   to pursue the exercises belonging thereto, the next thing that in
   relation to the said state deserves our consideration is the guide
   whose directions we may and ought to follow therein; for certainly a
   guide must needs be had, since it is evident that in our present state
   of corrupt nature, we have no light so much as to discover that there
   is any such way, and much less to direct and enable us to walk in paths
   so much above, yea, so directly contrary to the designs and interests
   of nature.

   2. Now, since in every good, faithful, and true Christian (as truth and
   experience teach) there are two internal lights and teachers, to wit,
   1. the spirit of corrupt nature; 2. the Divine Spirit, both which, in
   all our deliberate actions, do offer themselves, and even strive for
   mastery, contending whether of them, with the exclusion of the other,
   shall lead us in the ways proper and pleasing to each, the which ways,
   as also the ends to which they conduct, are directly contrary to one
   another; for the spirit of corrupt nature only teaches us such things
   as are for the present pleasing or profitable to our carnal desires or
   sensual and secular designs, but pernicious to the soul or spirit; the
   which, following the light of nature, runs into endless errors and
   labyrinths, all which lead us from God and true happiness unto eternal
   misery. On the other side, the Spirit of God, discovering unto us the
   folly and danger of following so blind and pernicious a guide as nature
   is; teaches us that our happiness consists in forsaking such a
   wandering guide, and treading paths quite contrary; in renouncing
   present sensual pleasures and commodities so far as they are a
   hindrance (yea, not an advancement) to our knowing of God and spiritual
   things, the which only must be the object of all our desires and
   endeavours, and whereby only we shall arrive to eternal happiness and
   union with God.

   3. Besides these two guides, we neither have nor can have any other
   within us, and with both these good Christians are continually
   attended. Whatsoever, therefore, is not the teaching of the Divine
   Spirit is the suggestion of the false teacher, who is His and our
   enemy, the which took possession of the souls of men upon Adam's
   transgression, whose fault was the not attending to the teaching of
   God's Holy Spirit (which then was the only internal teacher), but
   instead thereof, hearkening to the flattering temptations of his wife,
   seduced by the devil. And from Adam this false light is communicated to
   all his posterity, so as naturally we have no other. But the new
   heavenly teacher, the Holy Spirit, is freely given us by means of the
   divine word and sacraments; it being a new divine principle imprinted
   in our spirits, raising them to God, and continually soliciting us to
   walk in His ways.

   4. Our misery is, that whereas by mortal sins the divine light is for
   the time wholly extinguished, so as to the producing of any
   considerable good effect upon the will, it is not so on the other side,
   that by grace the false teacher should be totally expelled or silenced,
   but it remains even in the most perfect, and God knows even the best
   are too much inclined often to hearken to it. Those that are less
   perfect, though in matters of necessary duty and obligation they follow
   the conduct of the Divine Spirit, yet in lesser matters they for the
   most part are moved with no other principle than that of corrupt
   nature, by which they incur defects, the which, though in themselves
   venial, yet do much obscure the divine light, and weaken its efficacy.
   Yea, even in those things wherein such imperfect souls do for the
   substance of the action and its essentials follow the direction of
   God's Spirit, yet, by mixing of sensual interests and ends, suggested
   by the false teacher, they do diminish its lustre, beauty, and value.
   And so subtle is the spirit of nature, that it oft makes its false
   suggestions pass for divine inspirations, and seldom misses the
   insinuating its poison in some degree, either into the beginning or
   continuation of our best actions.

   5. From these unquestionable grounds thus truly laid, it follows
   evidently that in all good actions, and especially in the internal ways
   of the spirit which conduct to contemplation and perfection, God alone
   is our only master and director; and creatures, when He is pleased to
   use them, are only His instruments. So that all other teachers
   whatsoever, whether the light of reason, or external directors, or
   rules prescribed in books, &c., are no further nor otherwise to be
   followed or hearkened to, than as they are subordinate and conformable
   to the internal directions and inspirations of God's Holy Spirit, or as
   God invites, instructs, and moves us to have recourse unto them, by
   them to be informed in His will, and by Him enabled to perform it; and
   that if they be made use of any other ways, they will certainly mislead
   us.

   6. This is by all mystical writers acknowledged so fundamental a truth,
   that without acknowledging it and working according to it, it is in
   vain to enter into the exercises of an internal contemplative life. So
   that to say (as too commonly it is said by authors who pretend to be
   spiritual, but have no taste of these mystic matters), take all your
   instructions from without, from external teachers or books, is all one
   as to say, have nothing at all to do with the ways of contemplation,
   which can be taught by no other but God, or by those whom God
   especially instructs and appoints determinately for the disciple's
   present exigency. So that it is God only that internally teaches both
   the teacher and disciple, and His inspirations are the only lesson for
   both. All our light, therefore, is from divine illumination, and all
   our strength as to these things is from the divine operation of the
   Holy Ghost on our wills and affections.

   7. Now, to the end that this so important a verity may more distinctly
   be declared and more firmly imprinted in the minds of all those that
   desire to be God's scholars in the internal ways of His divine love,
   they are to take notice that the inspirations which are here
   acknowledged to be the only safe rule of all our actions, though of the
   same nature, yet do extend further, and to more and other particular
   objects, than the divine light or grace, by which good Christians,
   living common lives in the world, are led, extends to; yea, than it
   does even in those that seek perfection by the exercises of an active
   life.

   8. The light and virtue of common grace afford generally, to all good
   Christians that seriously endeavour to save their souls, such internal
   illuminations and motions as are sufficient to direct them for the
   resisting of any sinful temptation, or to perform any necessary act of
   virtue, in circumstances wherein they are obliged, though this
   direction be oft obeyed with many circumstantial defects, and their
   actions are so far and no further meritorious and pleasing to God than
   as they proceed from such internal grace or inspiration. But as for
   other actions, which in their own nature are not absolutely of
   necessary obligation, the which, notwithstanding, might be made
   instrumental to the advancing and perfecting of holiness in their souls
   (such as are the ordinary and usually esteemed indifferent actions of
   their lives), to a due improvement of such actions, they have neither
   the light nor the strength, or very seldom, by reason that they live
   distracted lives, not using such solitude and recollection as are
   necessary for the disposing of souls to the receiving such an
   extraordinary light and virtue. And as for those that tend to
   perfection by active exercises, even the more perfect, although they
   attain thereby a far greater measure of light and grace, by which they
   perform their necessary duties of holiness more perfectly and with a
   more pure intention, and likewise make far greater benefit for their
   advancement by actions and occurrences more indifferent; yet they also,
   for want of habitual introversion and recollectedness of mind, do pass
   over without benefit the greatest part of their ordinary actions.

   9. But as for contemplative livers, those I mean that have made a
   sufficient progress towards perfection, besides the common grace,
   light, or inspirations necessary for a due performance of essential
   duties, the which they enjoy in a far more sublime manner and degree,
   so as to purify their actions from a world of secret impurities, and
   subtle mixture of the interests and ends of corrupt nature, invisible
   to all other souls--besides this light, I say (which is presupposed and
   prerequired), they walk in a continual supernatural light, and are
   guided by assiduous inspirations in regard of their most ordinary, and,
   in themselves, indifferent actions and occurrences, in all which they
   clearly see how they are to behave themselves, so as to do the will of
   God, and by them also to improve themselves in the divine love; the
   which extraordinary light is communicated unto them only by virtue of
   their almost continual recollectedness, introversion, and attention to
   God in their spirits.

   10. More particularly by this internal divine light an internal liver
   is or may be directed: 1. In the manner and circumstances, when, where,
   and how any virtue may most profitably and perfectly be exercised; for
   as for the substantial act of such a virtue, and the necessary obliging
   circumstances in which it cannot, without mortal sin, be omitted, the
   light of common sanctifying grace will suffice to direct. 2. In the
   manner, frequency, length, change, and other circumstances of internal
   prayer. 3. In actions or omissions, which, absolutely considered, may,
   seem in themselves indifferent, and at the present there may be, as to
   ordinary light, an uncertainty whether the doing or omission is the
   more perfect. This is discovered to the soul by these supernatural
   inspirations and light: such actions or omissions are, for example,
   reading, study of such or such matters, walking, conversing, staying in
   or quitting solitude in one's cell, taking a journey, undertaking or
   refusing an employment, accepting or refusing invitations, &c.; in all
   which things well-minded souls, by solitude and introversion disposing
   themselves, will not fail to have a supernatural light and impulse
   communicated to them, which will enable them to make choice of that
   side of the doubt, which, if they correspond thereto, will most advance
   them in spirit, and suit with the divine will; whereas, without such
   light, generally souls are directed by an obscure light and impulse of
   nature and carnal ends or interests, without the least benefit of their
   spirit, yea, to their greater distraction and dissipation.

   11. Generally and ordinarily speaking, when there is proposed the doing
   or not doing of any external work, and that both of them are in
   themselves lawful, the divine inspiration in contemplative souls moves
   to the not doing; because the abstaining from much external working,
   and the increasing in internal solitude of spirit, is more suitable to
   their present state, and to that abstraction of life which they
   profess--except when the doing may prove a more beneficial
   mortification to self-love, or other inordinate affection of corrupt
   nature.

   12. The special points and matters of omissions, which (among others)
   are usually the objects of such divine calls and inspirations, may be
   such as these, viz.: 1. To eschew unnecessary, though permitted,
   conversations and correspondences with others, either by speaking or
   writing. 2. To be very wary and sparing in the use of the tongue. 3.
   Not solicitously to avoid occasions of mortifications or afflictions 4.
   To avoid the encumbering ourselves with business not pertaining to us.
   5. To fly honours, offices, care over others, and the like. 6. Not to
   crave this or that unnecessary thing or commodity, but to be content
   without them. 7. Not to question or expostulate why such a thing was
   said or done, but to hold patience, and to let things be as they are.
   8. Not to complain of or accuse any. 9. In cases of supportable and not
   harmful oppressions, to abstain from appeals to higher superiors. 10.
   To avoid the voluntary causing or procuring a change in our present
   condition, employment, place, &c. 11. To quiet and compose all manner
   of passions rising in the heart, and all troubles in mind, and to
   preserve the soul in peace, tranquillity, and cheerfulness in God's
   service. 12. To avoid such things or doings as will distract our minds
   with dissipating images. 13. To forbear and break off all particular
   partial friendships and compliances. 14. To preserve convenient liberty
   of spirit, and to abstain from encumbering or ensnaring ourselves by
   any voluntary assumed tasks, obligations, &c., though in matters in
   themselves good, but which may, becoming obligatory, prove hindrances
   to better things. 15. In a word, the divine inspirations, of which we
   here treat, do ever tend to a simplicity in thoughts, words, and deeds,
   and to all things which may advance the more perfect exercise of
   obedience, humility, resignation, purity of prayer, purity of
   intention, &c., so that whatsoever is contrary to any of these is to be
   rejected as a diabolical suggestion.

   13. As for extraordinary supernatural inspirations, illuminations,
   apparitions, voices, conversations with spirits, messages from heaven,
   &c., a spiritual internal liver is forbidden to pretend to, or so much
   as desire them; yea, rather to pray against them, lest he should abuse
   them to vanity and pride; and, moreover, never to admit or esteem them
   for such, and much less to put in execution anything that seems to be
   such a way commanded, till they have been first examined, judged, and
   approved by superiors, &c. But of this particular we shall speak more
   hereafter.

   14. The divine inspirations, lights, impulses, or calls, of which we
   here speak, are: 1. either such as are immediately communicated to the
   soul alone; 2. or also mediately with the concurrence of some other
   person or thing, to wit, by the mean of an external director; or also
   by the use and reading or hearing read spiritual or other pious books.
   We will, in the first place, treat of this latter way of understanding
   the divine will, because it is both more easy to be discerned, and also
   it is the way by which commonly imperfect souls are first instructed.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S:S: 1, 2. Why an external guide is necessary in the beginning.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5, 6. The conditions of such a guide; of which the principal
   is experience in the same ways beyond learning, &c.

   S:S: 7, 8. Active spirits cannot be fit guides for contemplative.

   S:S: 9, 10. Actual illumination oft necessary to external directors.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13. The office of a director may not be voluntarily
   assumed or sought.

   S:S: 14, 15. Lay persons may be spiritual guides to religious; yea,
   women.

   S: 16. That is no prejudice to the spirit of an order.

   S: 17. Conditions necessary in directors.

   S:S: 18, 19. Directors must teach their disciples to seek light from
   God.

   S: 20. Sincerity and obedience necessary in the disciple.

   S: 21. The gift of discerning spirits necessary in a director.

   S: 22. His instructions must be general.

   S:S: 23, 24. Frequent consultations harmful.

   S: 25. Two general remedies against difficulties: viz. 1. Riddance. 2.
   Patience.

   S:S: 26, 27. The director must not with unnecessary questions raise
   doubts.

   S: 28. Great danger from unnecessary conversation of directors with
   women.

   S: 29. More particular advices referred to other following places.

   1. A soul that comes out of the world to a religious contemplative
   life, or that living yet in the world is abstracted from the world and
   aspires to a state of perfection, at the first ordinarily will stand in
   need of an external instructor and guide for most matters that concern
   her in that way. The reason is because that such souls, although being
   supposed to be in the state of grace, have sufficient internal light to
   direct them in the ordinary duties of a Christian life, for the
   avoiding of sin and performing the necessary acts of virtues requisite;
   yet, as to the proper practices of internal ways, and to the ordering
   of common actions to the advancing of themselves towards contemplation,
   they are indeed penitus animales, governed by sense and the obscure
   deceitful light of natural reason, scarce knowing what an internal
   inspiration (with regard to such matters) is, and however very much
   disabled are they to discern or correspond to such an inspiration. And
   for this reason their natural light and general knowledge that they
   have of their own insufficiency to be their own directors in a new
   unknown state, will tell them that they must have recourse to other
   guides skilled in those things of which themselves have no experience.
   Yet even this seeking and submitting themselves unto external directors
   is not to be esteemed merely an act of nature, or guided only by a
   natural light; but of such inspirations and supernatural light which
   attends the actions of all good Christians, by which they are taught
   and moved to distrust themselves, and not knowing as yet how to dispose
   themselves for the receiving supernatural lights from God (much less to
   merit them), grace directs them to use the mediation of others, and to
   hear and obey God, speaking and ordaining by them.

   2. But the necessity of an external instructor is generally only at the
   beginning of a contemplative course. For after that souls, by the means
   of general directions given and a competent pursuit of internal
   exercises, have been once put and conveniently settled in a right way
   how to seek for more light from God alone, they must not afterwards,
   out of levity, curiosity, or a foolish proneness to discover their
   interior, nor without a just necessity, continue to seek instructions
   from without; nothing will excuse it but the want of internal light in
   some special doubtful cases, and then also, they having an internal
   inspiration and motion to seek it from others; in which case it is
   indeed their divine internal Master that they obey, who speak unto them
   by the external director appointed unto them by God. The devout reader
   may further see what the fore-mentioned excellent author of [8]Scala
   Perfectionis says to this purpose in the 2d part and 91st chapter, as
   likewise the author of the book called the [9]Cloud of Unknowing,chap.
   49 and 54.

   3. Now to the end to enable the soul to make a good choice (I mean such
   a soul as hath freedom to make her own choice), I will set down the
   qualities necessary to be found in a good director, by which title I do
   not mean simply a Confessarius, that is only to hear faults confessed,
   to give absolution, and there an end; for the ordinary qualities of
   learning and prudence are sufficient thereto. But by a spiritual
   director I intend one that, besides this, is to instruct the disciple
   in all the peculiar duties of an internal life; that is, to judge of
   her propension to contemplative ways, and that can at least teach her
   how she may fit herself with a degree of prayer proper for her; that
   knows all the degrees of internal prayer, and can determine how long
   she is to remain in such a degree, and when to change it for a higher;
   that can judge what employments, &c., are helpful or hindering to her
   progress in internal ways; but especially that can teach her how to
   dispose herself to hearken to and follow God's internal teaching, and
   to stand in no more need of consulting her external director, &c. Such
   are the proper offices of a guide, to enable him whereto there are
   generally by spiritual writers required three principal qualities: 1. a
   good natural judgment; 2. learning; 3. experience.

   4. But because it is scarce to be hoped for in all places and for all
   souls to find a director absolutely perfect and qualified with all
   manner of fitting conditions, therefore the said writers do dispute
   what quality is the most necessary to make a director capable of a
   sufficient discharge of his office. Now forasmuch as concerns the first
   condition, to wit, a good natural judgment, though by all it be
   acknowledged to be insufficient alone, yet is it so absolutely
   necessary that without it no considerable experience can be attained;
   and learning, if it be joined with an extravagant capricious spirit,
   will prove rather pernicious than advantageous; therefore, the question
   remains between learning and experience, whether of the two is the most
   necessary?

   5. But truly this scarce deserves to be a question. For though for the
   assoiling of ordinary doubts and cases of conscience, as about fasting,
   saying the divine office, confession, restitution, &c., learning be the
   principal condition to be looked after in one that is to be a guide for
   such purposes, notwithstanding, since the office of the spiritual
   director that now we seek after is to be exercised in such internal
   matters of the spirit as hath been said, to wit, contemplative prayer,
   attending to divine inspirations, &c., it is the resolute judgment of
   Gerson, Avila, [10]St. Teresa, B. John de Cruce, Seraphinus Firmanus,
   &c., that no trust is to be given to learning without experience, but
   much to experience though without learning. And to this purpose it is
   observable that for the most part the instruments that God hath been
   pleased, both in ancient and modern times, to employ in the instructing
   and guiding of souls to the perfection of contemplative prayer, have
   been persons of small learning but great experience, such as were St.
   Anthony, [11]St. Benedict, St. Francis, [12]St. Teresa, &c.

   6. No learning, therefore, that may be got by study and reading, though
   of all the contemplative books that now are extant, will alone serve to
   enable any one to be a competent director for internal livers. But
   there is necessary experience and practice in the same prayer, and
   other internal exercises that are to be taught; for never so many years
   spent in discursive prayer will little avail to qualify any one to be a
   proper and profitable director for souls tending to contemplation, as
   all enclosed religious men and women are obliged.

   7. Yea, it is much more safe for a well-meaning soul, the which, in
   solitude and abstraction, aspires to contemplation, to make use of
   that, though obscure, internal light which God has given her for the
   applying of such instructions as books which treat of effective prayer
   proper for her will afford her; or else to trust to the guidance of a
   virtuous humble-minded director, who, though he have but a very small
   proportion either of experience or learning, yet, out of humility, will
   not assume unto himself authority to judge of things above his reach,
   but will encourage the soul either to seek out one more intelligent, or
   to follow the directions of her own spirit illuminated by grace, than
   to confide in any directors, though never so learned, that would
   confine her all her lifetime to a form of discursive prayer, much
   busying the imagination, but not affording a scope free enough for the
   affections and holy desires, in which principally consists the good of
   prayer; and by consequence that will be apt to make her suspect all
   tracts and invitations wherewith God shall draw her to a more sublime,
   quiet, pure prayer in spirit, to the which, if she do not correspond,
   she will remain continually in multiplicity, distraction, and
   unquietness. The more learned that such improper directors are, the
   more incompetent are they for such an employment about souls whose
   profession is the aspiring to the prayer of contemplation; because, if
   either they be ignorant of such prayer, or unwilling to acknowledge any
   prayer more perfect than that which themselves practise and teach
   others, their learning will make them both more able and forward to
   keep souls under a certain captivity, chained with methods and forms,
   the which, though very profitable, even to these souls in the
   beginning, yet afterward become very painful and even insupportable to
   them living in solitude and a quiet abstraction of life.

   8. Truly it is not without some scruple and unwillingness that the
   present subject obliges me to deliver instructions, the which, perhaps,
   will to some appear displeasing and unwelcome. But the charitable
   reader is entreated to believe that here is not the least intention to
   reflect with censure upon any, or to inconciliate any directors to
   their disciples; our design being only to show what kind of prayer and
   practices we judge proper for internal livers; and this being so, we
   hope that, without offence to any, we may say that the most fit
   directors are such as are versed in the ways that they teach, as
   likewise that we may suggest to those that are of a contemplative
   profession that they would, in the exercise of prayer, abate, as much
   as may be, the busy work of the imagination, and enlarge that of
   affection. This is all we intend, both here and in whatsoever other
   passages of this book occasion is given to renew the like advices.

   9. I may truly say that neither natural judgment, learning, nor
   experience all together are absolutely sufficient to qualify a person
   for the employment of guiding souls in all cases in the internal ways
   of the spirit, but very oft an actual supernatural illumination will
   moreover be requisite and necessary; though true it is that experienced
   persons have great advantages beyond what wit or learning can afford.
   And such, for matters beyond their experience, no doubt, will often
   remit souls to God and their own observation; the which is a quality
   and office not to be expected from persons that bring no better
   endowments with them to the managing of contemplative souls, but only
   subtlety of wit and learning, or experience in a quite different and
   much inferior exercise of prayer (such experience being, as I said,
   rather a disadvantage), for such will resolve all cases; and though the
   directions they give must needs be improper, yet they will be very
   absolute in requiring obedience. Whereas, a person experienced in the
   same internal ways, being humble withal (for else, saith Avila, he also
   will probably be faulty too), though he be not in all cases able to
   give a resolute judgment, yet, finding his own deficiency, he will make
   a doubt of the matter, and thereupon, out of humility, will not scorn
   but rather be desirous to consult and take advice from others more able
   to resolve.

   10. Hereupon it is that [13]St. Teresa (as it is recorded in her life)
   much complains of the hurt that such resolute and insufficient teachers
   did to her and will do to others. And Thaulerus (worthily styled the
   illuminate doctor) professeth of himself in a certain sermon that
   unless he were specially illuminated by God for the solution of a doubt
   proposed to him, he would remit the party to God himself, to be
   instructed in prayer what to do. And let not such a one doubt, saith
   he, but that God will be his faithful counsellor. Moreover, he finds
   great fault with those arrogant persons that reprehend souls for
   suffering themselves to be guided by the instincts and internal lights
   and motions proceeding from God's Spirit, and for their calling such by
   the titles of new spirits, or pretenders to extraordinary
   illuminations; whereas, saith he, those that take all their
   instructions from persons and books will with very small success pursue
   the ways of the spirit.

   11. It is a miserable thing to see how this employment of directing
   souls (which above all other is most difficult, and exceedeth even the
   ability of an angel yet), out of an ambitious humour, is invaded by
   persons wholly unfitted for it, and that without any vocation from God
   voluntarily undertake it; so that no marvel it is if so little good
   come from such intruders. Not one of a thousand, saith Avila, is
   capable of so sublime a task. Nay, saith the holy Bishop of Geneva, not
   one of ten thousand. And most certain it is that those who so freely
   offer themselves to so divine an employment, do thereby show themselves
   to want the most necessary qualifications, to wit, humility and a true
   knowledge of its difficulty, and therefore their directions are most to
   be suspected.

   12. Hereupon Thaulerus saith, that a soul intending perfection ought to
   seek out an experienced servant of God, though it cost her a journey of
   many German miles. But, saith he, if such a friend cannot be found,
   then will a simple Confessarius serve, though never so ignorant; for
   even by such men doth the Holy Ghost speak by reason of their office;
   so that they may securely be submitted to and obeyed, even in things
   which they do not well understand.

   13. If a soul that is fearful and scrupulous be to choose a director,
   she ought to avoid one of the like temper, for passion which blinds the
   seeker will also blind the director, and so the blind will lead the
   blind.

   14. It is not necessary that the persons consulted with about
   difficulties concerning internal prayer should be learned, or in holy
   orders (except doubts concerning matters of faith or cases of
   conscience intervene), for though lay persons and women be not allowed
   by the Church to preach publicly, yet are they not forbidden to give
   private instructions in matters of that nature to any that shall have
   recourse to them. And of the good success of such instructors we have
   divers examples, as in the layman that converted Thaulerus, a learned
   doctor and a religious man, and likewise in St. Catharine of Siena,
   [14]St. Teresa, &c. And in a well-governed monastery of women, where a
   good course of internal prayer, approved by superiors and learned
   divines, is once well settled, it is very expedient that instructions
   concerning it should rather come from superiors within; because
   otherwise, by reason of the frequent change of directors, perhaps of
   contrary spirits, and many of them little practised in such prayer,
   souls will be governed uncertainly, and be in danger to be put out of
   their way.

   15. Though it seem evidently more reasonable and more proportionable to
   the spirits of persons professing a religious state to be conducted by
   others of the same profession (caeteris paribus) than by such as are
   strangers thereto, yet scarce any directors can be found more improper
   for such (supposing that they tend to contemplation) than are religious
   guides of active spirits, that know no further of prayer than
   meditation, and that show more zeal for an exact observance of
   ceremonies, or a multiplying of external voluntary austerities (the
   which of themselves, and unless they be guided by God's Spirit, have no
   special influence on the spirit, but only serve either for an outward
   show of rigour, or for keeping souls from misspending the time), than
   for the more essential internal duties of prayer, solitude of spirit,
   interior mortification, &c. Much more profitable to such souls would be
   a director, though not of any religious profession, that would impose
   on souls only such austerities as are essentially necessary to an
   internal life; such as are perfect abstraction, silence, solitude,
   convenient abstinence, &c. And for other matters not much necessary nor
   much effectual, leaving them in a due moderate liberty of spirit,
   especially such as will not impose on them any forms of mental prayer,
   however liked or practised by themselves, but for such matters rather
   leaving them to the conduct of God's Holy Spirit, and that will not
   torture them with painful, iterated customary confessions, &c.

   16. And whereas it will be perhaps objected that probably such
   directors, being strangers as to the special distinctive spirit of such
   an order or community, may endanger in their disciples a loss of the
   said spirit, I must profess that I understand not what is meant by that
   so-much-talked-of spirit of an order; nor how several orders, though
   never so much distinguished by habits or certain external practices, if
   their profession be to tend to contemplation, can have any more than
   one spirit, which directs them to make their principal design to be the
   seeking of God in His internal ways of divine love, and to that only
   end besides conformable prayer to practise such observances and
   mortifications as will best promote this design. And surely this good
   spirit of religion and contemplation, a good director, of what
   profession soever, will very studiously endeavour to advance, yea, and
   moreover will no doubt oblige his disciples to be very regular and
   zealous in the observance of all good ordinances of the community, and
   principally of the rule according to their profession made; instructing
   them withal how they may use such things for the advancing of their
   spirit and the service of God, although in the mean time, perhaps, he
   be not cunning in all the particular observances that belong to them,
   and little or nothing at all to him.

   17. All souls that live in contemplative orders are not naturally
   fitted for contemplative ways, nor the seeking of God in spirit. Those,
   therefore, that have not, and indeed are not capable of much light in
   their interior, and so are not so fit to be guided by divine
   inspirations, do the more need to have certain rules from without, at
   least for the exterior. And for such it is God's will and direction
   that they should more depend on external guides.

   18. He that takes upon hire the office of a spiritual director, saith
   Thaulerus, ought for some reasonable space of time to converse with his
   disciples, especially at the beginning; for a few transitory
   conferences will not suffice to give him light concerning their
   propensions and dispositions, that he may fit them with a degree of
   prayer proper for them, both for the present and future. And his
   principal care must be to set them in such a way as that they may not
   need to have much recourse unto him afterward, the which is done by
   giving them general directions about their prayer, and especially how
   thereby to dispose themselves to receive light from God, Whose
   inspirations ought for the future to be their principal rule,
   especially for the interior. And for the practising in particular
   according to the general directions given, the disciples must use their
   own judgment, and for a help they may also make use of such
   instructions as they may find in books, so far as they shall be proper
   for their spirit. But in cases when neither their own judgment nor
   books will help them, if the difficulty be of greater moment, they may
   again have recourse unto their director.

   19. And in this sort are writers that speak much of the necessity of an
   external director to be understood. For if such necessity were to last
   always, good souls should be obliged to spend their whole lives in
   conferring with directors, from whence would follow continual
   solicitudes, scrupulosities, and dangerous distractions, &c., most
   contrary to an internal spiritual life, which ought to be a state of
   much repose, cessation, introversion, and a continual attendance unto
   what God speaks within unto the soul; who, if souls will humbly and
   faithfully depend on Him, will clear and resolve difficulties, which
   external masters will never be able to penetrate into. But it is too
   general a humour in directors nowadays to make themselves seem
   necessary unto their disciples, whom they endeavour to keep in a
   continual dependence, to the great prejudice of their progress in
   spirit, besides many other inconveniences not needful to be mentioned
   particularly.

   20. A soul that has recourse to an instructor provided by God for her,
   or that, using her best advice, she hath made choice of, must deal
   freely, plainly, and candidly with him, concealing nothing necessary to
   be known by him; and his directions she must follow in all things,
   assuring herself that if she do so in the simplicity of her heart, and
   as in obedience to God himself, God will enlighten him so that she
   shall not be misled.

   21. The gift of discerning spirits is so necessary to a spiritual
   guide, that except thereby he be able to fit a soul with a sort and
   degree of prayer suitable to her natural disposition, not tying all
   souls to begin according to any general methods (for none such can be
   prescribed but will be prejudicial to some), and unless he teach how
   she may become illuminated without him, by God alone, by the means of
   prayer and abstraction of life (wherewith the mists of images and
   passions being dispelled, a light will spring forth in the soul far
   more clear and certain than any that can come from human instructions),
   not all the instructions of men and angels, joined with all
   mortifications imaginable, will be able to bring a soul to
   contemplation. For seldom or never doth God work contrary to our
   natural complexions; and till souls come to exercises in spirit and
   prayer, infused by God alone, they are far from contemplation.

   22. Now at the first it is very hard for any director to know exactly
   the secret inclinations of imperfect souls; which are so infinitely
   various; and therefore, for the most part, their instructions about
   prayer and attendance to divine inspirations must be general, the which
   the disciples themselves must make a particular use of by observing
   their own abilities and inclinations, and by marking what more
   particular forms of prayer, &c., suit best with them and do them most
   good. And this if they be not able in a reasonable manner to do, or if
   they have not the courage to abide in a way in which they are put, it
   will be in vain for them to proceed in those secret internal ways.

   23. If the way wherein a soul is put, and hath made a reasonable
   progress, be indeed proper for her, there will be little need of
   frequent recourse unto her director. Neither ought he to examine her
   about her internal exercises, of which he may judge well enough by her
   external comportment; for it is impossible for a soul to be in a wrong
   way interiorly, but of itself it will break out exteriorly, especially
   to the eyes of those who themselves are in a right way, as the
   spiritual director is supposed to be. And there is scarce any more
   certain sign that a soul is not interiorly in a good way, than is her
   being forward to trouble her director with a multiplicity of questions
   and doubts, and her readiness to discover her interior to others, whom
   she has heard or does believe to be skilful in spirituality.

   24. The images and internal distractions raised by impertinent
   consultations about the interior are, of all other, most pernicious;
   for distractions from without are but superficial, whereas those being
   hatched and bred within the soul from some secret ill qualities, as
   fear, scrupulosity, curiosity, &c., they are more profound and
   destructive to true recollection.

   25. The general remedies against almost all difficulties are these two:
   1. riddance; 2. patience. The former consists in affording to the soul
   some ease and latitude, as far as a good conscience will permit, in
   such things as are apt to perplex well-minded tender souls, as
   confession, saying of the office, obligation to the ordinances of the
   Church, and some kind of temptations; in all which things such souls
   are to be taught to neglect and transcend scrupulous nicety, and they
   are likewise to be prudently freed from the practice of customs not
   obligatory. And this remedy is proper against scrupulosity,
   disentangling the soul from many snares which otherwise would prove a
   great hindrance to her. The other remedy of patience and abiding is
   reasonable in case of aridities, desolations, and other such
   discouragements in an internal life; in which cases the devout soul is
   to be exhorted to behave herself as well as she can, and to be quietly
   resigned for what with all her industry she cannot help. Above all
   things, she is to be heartened to pursue courageously her appointed
   recollections in despite of all such oppositions raised by the devil or
   corrupt nature, and permitted by God for her good. The which if she do
   she will either disperse these temptations, or obtain a divine light to
   perceive that the way both most proper and most secure, by which God
   purposes to lead her to perfection, is the way of aridities and
   obscurities, as B. John de Cruce teaches in his treatise called
   [15]Mount Carmel. And when she once perceives this, then they will not
   only be supportable, but even acceptable to her. However, if a soul did
   know, or could be persuaded how much better it were for her to suffer a
   little bitterness arising from such difficulties or perplexities, than
   to hasten for a remedy by seeking help from others, or by turning
   herself to unnecessary solaces in creatures, and also with what
   confidence she might expect satisfaction from her internal master, if
   she would seriously, by prayer, seek Him, she would save both herself
   and her director much trouble and inconvenience.

   26. The instructor must use great wariness that he do not raise doubts
   and scruples in his scholars' minds by moving needless and indiscreet
   questions, or by impertinent discourses concerning spiritual matters,
   for thereby he may come to raise such doubts as himself shall not be
   able to resolve, and to put them so far out of their way as perhaps
   they will never be able to find it again. Therefore, in ordinary
   conversations, it is more fit that the subject of discourse should be
   some external and indifferent matters, wherein the parties are not much
   concerned, than such as regard the interior. Experience shows how much
   inconvenience doth come to souls by the conversations of such as are
   great pretenders to skill in spirituality, and therefore, out of vanity
   or a mistaken charity, are apt, when there is no need, to be offering
   instructions about spiritual matters.

   27. Some souls do see their way before them far better than others, and
   therefore do move fewer questions. The instructor therefore is to
   behave himself towards them all according to the quality and need of
   each spirit, always remembering that his office is not to teach his own
   way, nor indeed any determinate way of prayer, &c., but to instruct his
   disciples how they may themselves find out the way proper for them, by
   observing themselves what doeth good and what causeth harm to their
   spirits; in a word, that he is only God's usher, and must lead souls in
   God's way and not his own.

   28. Of all other spiritual persons, it concerns women especially to be
   very sparing in consultations, and, when necessity requires, to be
   brief in delivering their difficulties, for otherwise many
   inconveniences will follow; as: 1. loss of time both to the disciple
   and instructor; 2. distractions far more hurtful than if they were
   busied about the most encumbering employments of the community; 3.
   danger of multiplying new perplexities, by fearing that they have not
   given a full and a right account of themselves, &c. Besides, one
   difficulty will be apt to beget a new one, so that instead of seeking
   peace by disburdening of the conscience, by their indiscretions they
   may come both to trouble the peace of their instructors and to plunge
   themselves in incurable perplexities and obscurities of mind; 4. great
   cause there is to fear that there may, upon such occasion of
   unnecessary consultations, ensue dangerous familiarities and
   friendships with such as may prove very unfit counsellors. Thereupon
   St. Francis Xavier saith, that seldom was there so much good to be
   expected from the frequent treaties between persons of different sexes
   as there was peril in them to both.

   29. This may suffice concerning the qualities and office of an external
   director. As for more special duties belonging to him in more
   particular cases, as scrupulosities, mortifications, &c., it shall be
   treated when we come to speak of such particular subjects; as likewise
   of the obligation of superiors about the promoting the spiritual good
   of their subjects' souls (although they be not consulted with in the
   nature of spiritual guides), somewhat shall be said in the following
   discourse concerning the state of a religious profession.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. Of reading, which is next to prayer.

   S: 2. Some books may be read for diversion.

   S: 3. But spiritual books only for the soul's profit.

   S:S: 4, 5. Books proper for contemplatives, &c.

   S: 6. Not to stop in obscure places.

   S: 7. Not to practise directions, but such as are suitable to the
   spirit.

   S:S: 9, 10. Extraordinary practices of saints in mortifications not to
   be imitated without great caution.

   S: 11. Why mystic authors seem to write diversely.

   S: 12. Some Authors indiscreetly require perfection at first.

   S: 13. Reading must give way to prayer.

   S: 14. How mortification is to be practised in reading.

   S:S: 15, 16. Divine inspirations to be observed in applying
   instructions; and particularly of those in this book.

   S: 17. A soul following God may without books or instructors be led to
   perfect contemplation.

   1. A second mean by which the Divine Spirit teacheth devout souls is
   the reading of pious books. And this exercise I esteem, for worth and
   spiritual profit, to be next unto prayer.

   2. As for ordinary books, as ecclesiastical history, &c., it may be
   permitted to souls even in religion to read them for an innocent
   diversion and recreation, so that be not the principal end, but that
   the intention further be by such diversion to dispose a weary soul the
   better afterwards to pursue her internal exercises. And this permission
   now is the more reasonable, since that in religious communities of men
   bodily labour is almost out of date, and in place thereof reading and
   study hath succeeded, as now the principal daily employment of
   religious persons, who, living much less abstracted from the world, are
   almost forced to comply with the customs of the present times, in which
   learning is so valued and so abounding.

   3. But as for spiritual books, the intention of an internal liver ought
   not to be such as is that of those who live extroverted lives, who read
   them out of a vain curiosity, or to be thereby enabled to discourse of
   such sublime matters, without any particular choice or consideration
   whether they be suitable to their spirit for practice or no. A
   contemplative soul in reading such books must not say, this is a good
   book or passage, but moreover, this is useful and proper for me, and by
   God's grace I will endeavour to put in execution, in due time and
   place, the good instructions contained in it, as far as they are good
   for me.

   4. For such souls the books most proper are these following: [16]Scala
   Perfectionis, written by F. Walter Hilton; the [17]Cloud of Unknowing,
   written by an unknown author; the Secret Paths of Divine Love; as
   likewise the Anatomy of the Soul, written by R. F. Constantin
   Barbanson, a Capuchin; the book entitled Of the Threefold Will of God,
   written by R. F. Benet Fitch (alias Canfield), a Capuchin likewise; the
   works of [18]St. Teresa, of [19]B. John de Cruce; likewise Harphius,
   Thaulerus, [20]Suso, [21]Rusbrochius, Richard de St. Victor, Gerson,
   &c. And of the ancients, the Lives of the Ancient Fathers living in the
   Desert, and Cassian's [22]Conferences of certain Ancient Hermits
   (recommended particularly unto us by our holy father), St. Basil's
   Rules, &c. Then for souls that tend to perfection in an active life,
   books most proper are, the works of Rodriguez, of Perfection; the Duke
   of Gandia, of Good Works; Mons. de Sales, Ludovicus de Puente, &c. And
   lastly, books of a mixed nature are Granada, Blosius, &c. Indeed, few
   spiritual books there are wherein there is not an intermingling of such
   instructions. Now I should advise souls in an active life not at all to
   meddle with instructions belonging to contemplation, but applying
   themselves to the precepts and exercises of an active life, to use them
   in order to the end thereof, the perfection of external Christian
   charity.

   5. In all spiritual books, as likewise in all that treat of Christian
   morality, such instructions as concern the essential qualities and
   practice of virtues are to be esteemed proper to all souls, yet not so
   the motives, manner, and circumstances of exercising the said virtues.

   6. In reading of spiritual books, if anything touching prayer, &c.,
   occur (as ofttimes it will happen) that the spiritual disciple
   understands not, let him pass it over and neither unnecessarily trouble
   his own brains, nor make it a business to trouble others about the
   understanding of it. Perhaps in time, after more reading, and
   especially more experience in prayer, he will come to understand it.

   7. And as for those things which he either does indeed, or thinks he
   understands them, let him not be hasty to apply them to himself by
   practice, out of his own natural judgment or liking, but let him
   observe his own spirit, way, and internal guidance by God, and
   accordingly make use of them; otherwise, instead of reaping benefit,
   such inconveniences may happen, that it would have been better he had
   never read, nor been able to read any books at all, but only to have
   followed his own internal light, as many good souls have done that
   never could read, and yet seeking God in simplicity of their hearts,
   and praying without any prescribed methods, practising likewise
   according to the invitation and impulse of the Divine Spirit, have
   attained to perfect contemplation.

   8. Generally mystic authors write according to their own experience in
   their own souls, when they treat of the several degrees of prayer and
   the several manners of divine operations in souls in such degrees, as
   if the same instructions would serve indefinitely for all others.
   Whereas such is the inexplicable variety of internal dispositions, that
   the same course and order in all things will scarce serve any two
   souls. Therefore, if the indiscreet readers, without considering their
   own spirits and enablements, shall upon the authority of any book
   either tarry too long in an inferior degree of prayer, when God has
   fitted them and does call them to a higher, or in a foolish ambition
   shall, being unprepared, presume to a degree of prayer too sublime and
   spiritual for them, there will be no end of difficulties, doubts, and
   consultations.

   9. But of all errors the greatest and most dangerous is the indiscreet
   imitating the examples and practices of saints in particular
   extraordinary corporal mortifications, voluntarily (yet by God's
   special direction) assumed by them, as labours, fastings, watchings,
   disciplines, &c. For such a forwardness in others not called thereto,
   to be extraordinary likewise, it is much to be feared proceeds merely
   from pride and self-love, and will produce no better effects than the
   nourishing of the same inordinate affections. And if such have not the
   courage and patience (as it cannot be expected they should have) to
   persevere in such exercises, this will cause infirmity of body,
   dejection of mind, and weariness, if not an utter casting off a
   spiritual course.

   10. The benefit that we ought and easily may reap from the reading of
   such extraordinary practices of others, is to admire God's ways in the
   conducting of his saints, and to take occasion from thence of humbling
   and despising of ourselves, seeing how short we come of them in the
   practice of their virtues; but no further to imitate them in such
   things than we may be assured that God directs us by a supernatural
   light, and enables us by an extraordinary grace, yea, and moreover,
   till we have obtained the leave and approbation of a prudent director.
   Till this be, let us supply with a good will what our forces will not
   reach unto. And above all things, we must take heed that we do not
   entangle ourselves by laying obligations or vows upon our souls about
   such matters, the which we shall have difficulty to discharge ourselves
   from when by trial we find the inconvenience.

   11. Mystic writers, in expressing the spiritual way in which they have
   been led, do oft seem to differ extremely from one another; the which
   difference, notwithstanding, if rightly understood, is merely in the
   phrase and manner of expression. And the ground hereof is, because the
   pure immaterial operations of perfect souls in prayer, and especially
   the operations of God in souls in which they are patients only, are so
   sublime that intelligible words and phrases cannot perfectly express
   them, and therefore they are forced to invent new words the best they
   can, or to borrow similitudes from corporal things, &c., to make their
   conceptions more intelligible; and thus does each one according to the
   mariner that he finds or conceives in himself, or according to his
   skill in language. No wonder, therefore, if there seem to be diversity
   among them. Hereupon the author of The Cloud observes, that great harm
   may come by understanding things literally, grossly, and sensibly,
   which, howsoever they be expressed, were intended and ought to be
   understood spiritually.

   12. Some good spiritual authors, intending to recommend certain duties
   necessary to be practised, forasmuch as concerns the substance of the
   duties (as an entire self-abnegation, purity of intention, &c.), do
   urge the said duties in the greatest perfection universally upon all,
   and with such phrases of absolute necessity as if upon any defect in
   practising that virtue (so by them extended to the full, to the end to
   prevent all the most secret ways and shifts in which nature is apt to
   seek her own satisfaction) all the whole design of an internal life
   were ruined; they do by this overmuch exactness and care, instead of
   exciting the courage of their readers to the serious practice of so
   necessary a duty, quite dishearten them; yea, perhaps they make them
   suspect the state of their souls, who being conscious of their present
   infirmity and imperfections, lose all heart to adventure upon an
   attempt so unproportionable to their weak abilities. Whereas, if
   instructions had been tempered with regard to the capacity of each
   practiser, they would have gone on with courage and good success.

   13. Voluntary reading must give place to prayer, whensoever the soul
   finds herself invited thereto.

   14. The virtue of mortification may, and sometimes ought, to be
   practised in reading in this manner. When any book or subject is very
   gustful to a soul, she must be watchful over herself not to pour
   herself wholly upon it with an intemperate greediness, nor to let
   curiosity or delight too much possess her, but let her now and then
   stop the pursuit of reading, lifting up her mind by interruptions to
   God, and afterwards continue at least in a virtual attention to Him, so
   mortifying and qualifying the impetuosity of nature. And by no means
   let her give way to an unwillingness to quit reading for performing her
   appointed recollections or other exercises of obligation.

   15. To conclude: whosoever in reading, &c., doth not chiefly observe
   his own spirit and divine call, and makes not the books, sayings, and
   examples of others to serve the said spirit and call, but, on the
   contrary, makes the divine inspirations subject to books, &c., it were
   better for him never to read such books, or receive human instructions,
   but that he should cleave only to God, who in case of necessity will
   most assuredly supply all other wants and defects.

   16. And the same liberty that I have recommended to souls in the
   reading of other books, I advise them to use in these instructions
   also, that is, to apply to their own practice only such directions as
   their spiritual instructor and their own experience and reason,
   enlightened by grace, shall show them to be proper for them. Indeed, in
   all this book I know scarce any one advice which I can confidently say
   to be properly belonging to all souls that lead an internal life
   generally, except this, that they who aspire to perfection in
   contemplation must not content themselves nor rest finally in any
   inferior degree of prayer, but following the divine light and
   invitation (without obliging themselves to any forms or methods) they
   must from the lowest degree of internal prayer (which is ordinarily
   meditation) proceed to a more sublime prayer of immediate affections
   and acts of the will, and from thence ascend to the infused prayer of
   aspirations.

   17. Yea, I dare with all confidence pronounce, that if all spiritual
   books in the world were lost, and there were no external directors at
   all, yet if a soul (sufficiently instructed in the essential grounds of
   Catholic faith) that has a natural aptness, though otherwise never so
   simple and unlearned (being only thus far well instructed at first),
   will prosecute prayer and abstraction of life, and will resignedly
   undergo such necessary mortifications as God shall provide for her,
   observing God and His call exteriorly and interiorly, and so forsake
   herself, and propose Almighty God, His will, love, honour, for her
   final intention (which she will certainly do if she attend unto His
   inspirations), such a soul would walk clearly in perfect light, and
   with all possible security, and would not fail in due time to arrive at
   perfect contemplation. These are the two external means by which God
   teaches souls, discovering to them His will, to wit, instructors and
   books. And to these we might add another, to wit, laws and precepts of
   superiors (for God teaches also this way, and never commands
   contrarily). But of these we shall speak hereafter.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S: 1. Of the third and principal way by which God teaches internal
   livers, viz. immediate divine inspirations; the order of particular
   considerations following touching them.

   S: 2. First, of the necessity of them, and the ground of such
   necessity.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5, 6. The said necessity proved by the testimony of St.
   Benedict in his [23]Rule, &c.; as also by his example.

   S: 7. A further demonstration of the said necessity.

   1. The third fore-mentioned, and of all other the most principal means
   by which God instructs and directs internal livers in the secret paths
   of His divine love, and upon which do depend the two former, are
   interior illuminations and inspirations of God's Holy Spirit, who is to
   be acknowledged the only supreme Master; concerning which inspirations
   it hath already been shown in general what they are, how distinguished
   from the lights and motions of common grace, and what are the objects
   about which principally they are exercised, &c. I will now treat more
   particularly of them in this following order, viz.: 1. there shall be
   further shown the necessity of them; 2. that souls are obliged to
   dispose themselves for the receiving of them, and how this is to be
   done, to wit, by removing the impediments; 3. how God communicates to
   the soul His light and grace for her instruction and direction; 4. that
   it is not hard to discern them, and very secure to rely upon them; 5.
   that by the use of them no prejudice at all comes to ecclesiastical or
   religious obedience.

   2. Touching the first point, to wit, the necessity of them in an
   internal contemplative life, there is none that will deny or doubt, but
   that divine inspirations are necessary forasmuch as concerns the proper
   and essential actions of Christian virtues, which receive all their
   meritoriousness from the said inspirations. But some there are that
   will not allow the same necessity of expecting inspirations and calls
   for actions or omissions of themselves indifferent or of less moment.
   But surely, since it is generally agreed upon by divines following St.
   Augustine, [24]St. Thomas, &c., that there are no actions done in
   particular circumstances which are simply to be esteemed indifferent,
   but since they must have some end, if the end be good they are to be
   esteemed good, and if evil they are evil (howsoever universally
   considered, they are in their own nature indifferent, because according
   to the intention and end wherewith they are done they may be good or
   evil): again, since there are no actions so inconsiderable but may,
   yea, ought to be performed out of the motive of divine love, and to the
   end to increase the said love in our souls, especially the ordinary
   actions and employments of a religious contemplative life; and lastly,
   since perfection in divine love cannot be attained by the simple
   exercise of charity in duties which are absolutely necessary, and
   without mortal sin cannot be omitted, the which duties do seldom occur,
   but it is moreover requisite for that end to multiply frequently and
   daily exercises of the said love in offices less necessary; yea, and to
   purify all our most ordinary actions from the stains of self-love which
   adhere unto them; hence, I say, appears the necessity of the influence
   of the Divine Spirit upon our actions which are not of such obligation,
   if we seriously tend to the perfection of divine love in our souls.

   3. To this purpose it is worth the observing how seriously our holy
   Father [25]St. Benedict enforces the necessity of hearkening to and
   obeying the inspirations of God's Holy Spirit, our only supreme Master,
   making this the foundation of all religious duties, in the prologue of
   his [26]Rule, where he saith that we must (nunquam discedere ab ejus
   magisterio) never depart from the institution and direction of God;
   that we must have our eyes open (ad Deificum lumen) to the divine
   light. On which grounds he calls a monastery (scholam Dominici
   servitii) the school wherein God's service is taught, and (officinam
   artis spiritualis) the workhouse wherein the art of the Divine Spirit
   is taught and practised; namely, because all things, all observances,
   even those of the least moment in a religious life, do tend to withdraw
   us from all other teachers and all other skill, and to bring us to be
   (Deo docibiles) taught by God only. And therefore it is that our said
   holy patriarch lays this as the foundation of all religious practices,
   that they be done in virtue of prayer; his words are, Inprimis ut
   quidquid agendum inchoas bonum, a Deo perfici instantissima orations
   deposcas. As if he should say, in the first and principal place, thou
   art to consider this to be the end why I invite thee to an abstracted
   religious life, that thou mayest thereby be brought to this happy and
   secure state, as to be enabled to obtain of God, by most earnest and
   assiduous prayer, to give a blessing and perfection to every action
   that in a religious state thou shalt apply thyself to. Now if according
   to our holy Father's principal intention prayer ought to prepare and
   accompany every action which we perform in religion, then surely it
   will follow that they ought all of them to be performed with relation
   to God, as upon His bidding and for His love and glory.

   4. Moreover, more particularly concerning divine inspirations, our holy
   Father makes mention of several ones in special, as in the point of
   internal prayer, though in common he ordains that it should be short
   (in the 20th chapter of his [27]Rule), yet so as that he leaves it to
   the liberty of any one to prolong it (ex affectu inspirationis Divinae
   gratiae) by an invitation and enablement from a divine inspiration and
   grace. And again, concerning abstinence, as also the measure of
   allowance for meat and drink, he professeth that he had a scruple how
   to proportion it, considering the variety of men's tempers and
   necessities. But, however, though he was willing to allow what might be
   sufficient for the strongest, yet he leaves every one in particular to
   the direction of grace, saying in the 40th chap. (Unusquisque proprium
   habet donum ex Deo; alias sic, alius vero sic), that is, every one hath
   a peculiar gift of God; one hath this, and another that (Quibus autem
   donat Deus tolerantiam abstinentiae, propriam se habituros mercedem
   sciant), that is, those unto whom God hath given the strength to endure
   a sparing abstinence, let them be assured that so doing God will give
   them a peculiar reward. Besides these, several other passages might be
   produced out of our holy Father's [28]Rule to the same purpose.

   5. Now in this last passage there is a document that well deserves to
   be considered. Every one, saith he, in St. Paul's words, hath his
   proper peculiar gift in the matter of refection. All good Christians
   have the gift to avoid therein a mortally sinful excess, but religious
   internal livers have moreover (or may have) a special gift to avoid
   even venial defects, and the perfect to advance themselves thereby
   towards perfection. Yet from thence we cannot conclude that God has
   obliged himself to discover unto every one, although seeking it by
   prayer, the exactly true state and complexion of his body. Whence it
   follows that if he, being mistaken in that which he is not bound to
   know, should demand more or less sustenance than is absolutely
   necessary, it is no sin, upon supposition that such desire did not
   proceed from a sensual affection to meat nor a faulty neglect of
   health, but from the best light that reason could afford him to judge
   of his own necessity, and from an intention to benefit his soul by a
   moderate refreshing of nature. And it is God's will that we should
   follow reason in all external things in which God doth not usually
   otherwise illuminate his servants. Though natural reason, therefore,
   may fail and be mistaken, yet the person does not offend, but rather
   follows God by following the light of his reason, this being all the
   light in such cases afforded him. So for example, if a hermit, being
   infirm, and having none to consult with, should doubt whether it were
   unlawful for him to break a commanded fast, and having by prayer
   desired God's direction, should remain persuaded that it was, and
   thereby should prejudice his health by fasting, this would be no sin at
   all in him, yea, on the contrary it would be meritorious. For he would
   fail indeed in that for which he had no light, neither was light
   necessary to him, to wit, the exact knowledge of what had been
   requisite for corporal health; but he would merit in that for which he
   had light, to wit, the advancement of his soul. And ordinarily
   speaking, the inspirations that God affords to the more perfect in such
   cases are rather to abstain even from the more expedient commodities,
   yea, ofttimes to some prejudice of health, for the greater good of the
   soul; because, too anxious a solicitude for health is unbecoming an
   internal liver. Yea, a robustious health uninterrupted is not
   convenient for such a one. But leaving this digression:

   6. Our holy Father teaches, as himself had been taught (for what other
   teacher had he from his infancy till the moment of his expiration but
   the Divine Spirit, by whose light and impulse alone he was directed
   into and in his solitude, and afterward enabled to direct all
   succeeding ages in a coenobitical life?) to have recourse to the same
   teacher. The like may be said of all the ancient hermits and anchorites
   who could have no other instructor but God, and had no other employment
   during their rigorous solitude and silence, but to attend to their
   internal teacher, and put in execution His inspirations in all their
   actions both internal and external. To this purpose, saith a holy
   hermit in Cassian, that as it was by God's inspiration that we begin,
   when we enter into religion, so likewise (magisterio et illuminatione
   Dei ad perfectionem pervenimus) by the discipline, instruction, and
   illumination of God we attain to perfection. Another says that a soul
   can do no good at all unless she be (quotidiana Domini illuminatione
   illustrata) enlightened by a daily illumination from God. These are
   expressions that our holy Father himself uses, and it seems borrowed
   them from the same authors. And for this reason it is that in his
   [29]Rule he contents himself with ordaining prescriptions for the
   exterior only, because he knew that the interior could only be directed
   by God. But withal, his ordinations are such as we may see his
   intention and only design was by them to dispose souls to be capable of
   observing and following the inspirations and inward instructions of
   God's Holy Spirit, without which all exterior observances would never
   bring us to perfection; such were very rigorous solitude and
   abstraction from all intercourse either with the business or news of
   the world, almost continual silence but when we speak to God, &c. And
   withal, in several places of his [30]Rule he signifies by the way that
   the reformation of the spirit ought to be the principal aim of a
   religious soul. So that in the conclusion of the [31]Rule, having
   regard to the external observances expressly commanded therein (as a
   preparation to the perfection to be learnt out of the lives and
   conferences of the fathers), he professeth with great humility, but
   with great truth also, that his intention thereby was that those which
   observed it be enabled to declare in some sort (honestatem morum, aut
   initium conversationis eos habere) that they had attained to a laudable
   exterior carriage and the beginning of a holy religious conversation.
   But, saith he, whosoever shall tend to perfection, Sunt doctrinae
   Sanctorum Patrum; as if he had said he must, according to the teaching
   of the holy Fathers, attend unto the divine Master by exercising,
   according to his instructions, that pure sublime prayer, &c., which
   they practised and discovered. And suitable hereto St. Francis likewise
   in his [32]Rule advises his disciples thus: Attendant fratres, quod
   super omnia desiderare debent habere spiritum Domini, et sanctam ejus
   operationem, that is, the religious brethren must attentively mark
   that, above all other things, they ought to desire to have the Spirit
   of our Lord and his Holy operation in their souls.

   7. To conclude: either it must be granted that perfection may be
   attained merely by avoiding mortal sins, and doing such actions of
   virtue as are absolutely necessary to all Christians (which to say were
   manifestly foolish and false), and likewise that actions more
   indifferent and not so universally obliging (such as are certain more
   profitable manners of prayer, external religious observances,
   refection, conversation with our brethren, &c.) cannot be rendered
   capable of a holy intention and of advancing us in the divine love
   (which is against experience); and moreover, that without internal
   grace actually operating (which is nothing else but divine
   illuminations and impulses) these ordinary inferior actions may be
   exalted to produce that effect which the greatest necessary virtues
   could not produce, which to say were impiety; or it must be granted
   that the teaching of God's Holy Spirit is the only principal necessary
   cause by whose virtue we are informed and enabled to improve and make
   use of these actions for the attaining of so sublime an end as
   perfection in contemplation is, and without which it is impossible to
   be attained. And indeed, so impossible to be brought under external
   rules, and so secret and undiscoverable are the internal dispositions
   of souls and their operations, that they cannot be clearly perceived
   nor consequently ordered, but by Him to whom alone (our figmentum) our
   hearts and all the secret inclinations and motions of them are naked
   and transparent.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S: 1. All internal livers obliged to attend to God's inspirations.

   S: 2. Therefore the impediments to this duty are to be removed, which
   are two. First, distracting images, which are expelled by abstraction
   of life.

   S: 3. The second impediment is unruly passions, which are calmed by
   mortification and peace of mind.

   S:S: 4, 5. The end why a religious state, especially of St. Benedict's
   institution, is undertaken, is the removal of these impediments.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8, 9. A third more special impediment: to wit, want of due
   liberty of spirit to follow God's directions, caused by voluntary
   burdens and customs assumed.

   S:S: 10, 13. Several such are exemplified.

   1. The necessity of a divine internal teacher being established, there
   follows from thence an equal necessity for all those whose profession
   obliges them to walk in those ways towards the sublime end proposed, to
   attend unto and obey this only most necessary master. And because each
   one hath in his heart a false teacher that always urgeth us to hearken
   to his perverse teachings and to neglect the divine teacher, therefore,
   the way to become a diligent and obedient disciple to God's Holy Spirit
   will be: 1. to neglect, contradict, and, as much as lies in us, to
   silence the teachings and suggestions of corrupt nature; 2. and
   secondly, to be attentive to the voice of God's Spirit in our souls.

   2. For the first: there are two general impediments that nature lays in
   our way to hinder us from attending to God. The first is distracting
   images; the second, unquiet passions. Now the remedy against the former
   is abstraction of life, a not engaging ourselves in business that
   belongs not unto us; the mortifying of the curiosity of knowing or
   hearing strange or new things not pertinent to our profession; the
   tempering of our tongues from vain, unprofitable conversations; the
   reducing our thoughts, as much as may be, from multiplicity to unity,
   by fixing them continually on the divine love which is that unum
   necessarium, &c.

   3. Again, the only proper remedies against the other impediment, to
   wit, unquiet passions, are, first, mortification of all inordinate
   affection to creatures--of all vain encumbering friendships, all
   factious partialities, all thoughtful provision for the contenting of
   our sensual desires; but especially of that most dangerous, because
   most intimate and spiritual thirst of knowledge unnecessary, and of all
   ambition to get victory or glory by disputing, writing, &c., as
   likewise of all anger, impatience, melancholy, fear, scrupulosity, &c.;
   and, secondly, a studious care to preserve our souls in all the peace,
   tranquillity, and cheerfulness possible, not suffering any passions to
   be raised in our minds during our imperfect state, no, not although
   they should be directed upon good and holy objects, because they will
   obscure and disorder our spirits. And, therefore, we must avoid all
   violence and impetuous hastiness in performing our best and most
   necessary duties, which are discharged most efficaciously and purely
   when they are done with the greatest stillness, calmness, clearness of
   mind and resignation. It is sufficient in this place only to touch
   passingly upon these impediments, because in the following treatise we
   shall have occasion to treat more largely and purposely of them.

   4. Now to what end did we come into religion, but only to avoid all
   these impediments in the world, which withdraw us from attending to God
   and following His divine guidance? In this very point lies the
   difference between a secular and a religious state, that a secular
   person secularly minded, by reason of the noise, tumults, and
   unavoidable distractions, solicitudes, and temptations which are in the
   world, cannot without much ado find leisure to attend unto God and the
   gaining of His love even for a few minutes every day, or little oftener
   than the laws of the Church necessarily oblige him. And all the
   directions that he is capable of in God's service must come from
   without, for by reason that his soul is so filled with images vain or
   sinful, and so agitated with impetuous affections and designs, he
   cannot recollect himself to hear God speaking in him. Whereas, a
   religious person professes his only business to be attending to God's
   internal voice, for which purpose he renounceth all these impediments
   and distractions.

   5. And surely, in a special manner, the disciples of [33]St. Benedict,
   if they will cast a serious eye upon the frame of their [34]Rule, will
   find that as it is very moderate, and prudently condescending in all
   matters of outward corporal austerities afflicting to nature, but not
   immediately helpful to the spirit, so, on the contrary, it is very
   rigorous in the exacting of silence, solitude, a renouncing of all
   proprietary solicitude for corporal necessities and all other
   mortifications which will hinder the dissipating of our spirits and
   thoughts, and indispose the soul to recollection and attention to God;
   but especially prayer, which he calls Opus Dei (to which all other
   works and observances are to give place), is most seriously and
   incessantly enjoined, by the practice whereof we do, above all other
   exercises, transcend grosser and sensible images in the understanding,
   and subdue unruly passions in the heart. So that it is evident that our
   holy Father's principal care in all the observances enjoined by him was
   to free his disciples from these two general and most powerful
   hindrances to introversion, and a continual attention to and
   conversation with God: which may most properly be called the spirit of
   St. Benedict's [35]Rule.

   6. There is, moreover, one special impediment to the observing and
   obeying of divine inspirations which is not to be omitted, and the
   rather because it is less taken notice of in ordinary spiritual
   writers: this impediment consists in this, that many souls do
   indiscreetly prejudice, yea, oft take away quite, that indifference and
   liberty of spirit which is necessary to all that will seriously follow
   the divine guidance in all the ways that they then are led by it. For
   it were foolish to prescribe unto God the ways in which we would have
   Him to lead us: this were to oblige God to follow our ways and to do
   our wills, and not we to perform His. And this is done by those who
   obstinately adhere to preconceived opinions and fore-practised customs,
   whatsoever they be. For though such customs in themselves and to other
   souls may be never so good and profitable, yea, though formerly even to
   those persons themselves they have been never so proper and beneficial,
   yet this was only whilst they were in such a state and degree of
   spirituality; the which state altering (as in progress it needs must),
   then that which was formerly proper and conformable to the divine will
   and inspiration will become improper, inconvenient, and contrary to the
   present internal guidance of God.

   7. This impediment must necessarily be removed, and devout souls must
   continually keep themselves in a free indifferency and suppleness of
   spirit, for otherwise they will become, in many cases and
   circumstances, indisposed to believe, and incapable to execute that
   which God's Holy Spirit shall dictate unto them; yea, they will oft
   contristate and endanger to extinguish the said Spirit in them by an
   obstinate doing of the contrary to what It moves them.

   8. The reasonableness and necessity of this advice may be shown by this
   example: it may have been good and profitable for a soul when she
   entered into an internal life to appoint unto herself certain voluntary
   devotions and vocal prayers, &c., or afterwards to select certain
   peculiar subjects of meditation, as the four last things, the Mystery
   of the Passion, &c., or to prescribe unto herself certain times for
   some good external or internal practices, or to make frequent
   examinations of conscience, confessions, &c. All these things are good
   whilst the soul finds profit by them, and so long they are to be
   continued; but if God shall call her to a higher exercise, and to a
   more pure efficacious prayer, so that she begins to lose all gust in
   her former exercises, the which do not only abridge her of the time
   necessary for her more perfect recollections, but likewise dull the
   spirit and indispose it for such prayer and other more beneficial
   practices to which she is by a new, clearer, divine light directed or
   invited, and by divine grace enabled; in this case pertinaciously to
   adhere to former customs, because she finds them commended in books,
   &c., or because she did formerly reap profit by them, this is to
   entangle, fetter, and captivate the spirit, to renounce the divine
   guidance, and to obstruct all ways of advancement in the paths of
   contemplation. The soul, therefore, in such or the like cases, must
   necessarily use some violence upon herself to recover a true and most
   needful indifference and liberty of spirit, that so she may freely
   follow God whithersoever He shall by His inspirations invite her, being
   assured that she shall never by Him be persuaded or tempted to do
   anything contrary or prejudicial to her duty, obedience to lawful
   authority, or any other necessary obligations.

   9. This instruction reaches very far; yea, so far that even learned
   men, yea, some that pass for spiritual, if they be unexperienced in the
   true internal ways of God's Spirit leading to contemplation, would
   perhaps mislike the freedom which in many cases must and hath been
   allowed by the best and most sublime mystic authors to souls of some
   peculiar dispositions and in certain circumstances. And as for
   unlearned persons, they would be in danger almost to be scandalised.

   10. The special points, therefore, by which liberty of spirit in many
   souls is (or may be) much abridged to their great hindrance are such as
   these which follow, viz.: 1. A frequent scrupulous confession (and this
   merely to continue a custom) of certain venial sins causing a harmful
   anxiety to the person. 2. Customary solicitous examinations of
   conscience, and not contenting one's self sometimes with virtual
   examinations. 3. A needless anxious reviewing of general confessions.
   4. The forcing acts of sensible remorse, &c. 5. The overburdening one's
   self with a certain task of vocal prayers or other practices, to the
   prejudice of daily recollections. 6. Assuming and continuing voluntary
   mortifications when the soul finds no benefit by them, but rather
   becomes disheartened and dejected. 7. Practising what is found in
   books, though improper for the spirit. 8. Imitating unwarily the good
   practices of others, without a due consideration of one's own ability
   or weakness in regard of them. 9. Obliging one's self indifferently at
   all times, in all states and degrees of prayer, to a discursive
   exercise on the Passion, &c. 10. Doing things merely for edification.
   11. Tying one's self to nice methods and orders of prayer, and to a
   determinate number of succeeding acts in recollections. 12. Exercising
   corporal labours and austerities without due consideration and
   necessity. 13. Adhering with propriety to any kind of internal exercise
   when the soul is enabled and invited to a higher. 14. The obliging
   one's self in all circumstances to a determinate posture in private
   recollections. 15. And (which is worst of all) an entangling of the
   soul by hasty and indiscreet promises or vows made during some fit of
   sensible devotion or in a passion of remorse, fear, &c. Hereto other
   points may be added of a like nature, containing practices, though in
   themselves good, and to some persons very beneficial, yet, considering
   the state of abstraction proper (yea necessary) to a contemplative
   liver, which may prove very prejudicial by engaging such a one in
   duties and offices to be performed alone or in association with others,
   by which images and solicitudes may be multiplied, &c. By these, and
   other such practices as these, which are supposed not to be of
   obligation, many souls in desire tending to perfection may so
   overburden and entangle themselves that they either cannot observe the
   operations of the Divine Spirit in them, or have not the liberty to
   follow whither It would draw them; and thereby remain in their
   imperfect state without hope of making any progress, unless they will
   renounce their own preconceived judgment and preassumed self-imposed
   obligations.

   11. Hitherto it may suffice to have spoken of the impediments by which
   souls are hindered from attending to and obeying their internal divine
   teacher, who only knows what is best for every one in all
   circumstances, and will not fail to direct for the very best every soul
   that with humility and resignation hath recourse to Him.

   12. Now such is the nature of the reasonable soul (which is all
   activity, and will be continually thinking on and loving somewhat) that
   if these impediments, caused by impertinent images of creatures,
   inordinate affections to them, and by a voluntary shackling the soul
   with assumed opinions and customs, were once removed, she would see
   clearly what she ought to follow and love, which is God only; for
   creatures being removed and forgotten, nothing remains but God: no
   other light for our understanding, nor other object for our wills and
   affections, but He only.

   13. And the general, of all others most efficacious, means to remove
   all these impediments is, by abstraction and prayer in spirit, to
   aspire unto an habitual state of recollection and introversion; for
   such prayer, besides the virtue of impetration, by which God will be
   moved according to His so frequent and express promises to be a light
   to the meek and humble, it hath also a direct virtue to procure this
   illumination, inasmuch as therein our souls see Him and nothing else,
   so that they have no other guide to follow but Him; and especially
   inasmuch as by prayer in spirit divine charity is most firmly rooted in
   our hearts, which makes them insensible to all other things that would
   divert our attention or affection. And we see by experience that love
   (of what object soever) doth more clear the mind, and confers in a
   moment, as it were, more skill to find out the means by which the
   object beloved may be obtained, than never so much study or meditation.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   S:S: 1, 2. The gift of the Holy Spirit is the principle of all good
   actions in us.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5, 6. It doth not work of itself, unless excited by actual
   grace and our endeavours.

   S: 7. By the using and employment of this gift, there is raised in us a
   supernatural light of discretion, as prudence is increased by the
   practice of virtue.

   S: 8. How the exercise of love causes illumination.

   S:S: 9, 10. Supernatural light is, 1. actual; 2. permanent.

   S: 11, The effects of supernatural discretion.

   S:S: 12, 13, 14, 15. Contemplative and active livers, both guided by a
   supernatural light, but differently.

   S: 16. How imperfect souls may do their ordinary daily actions in
   light.

   1. The third point before proposed for our consideration in this matter
   of internal inspiration, is the manner how God communicates His light
   and grace to our understanding and wills for our instruction and
   directions, in the mystic ways of contemplation.

   2. Now for a clearer explication of this point we are to consider that
   that fundamental grace, which in Scripture is called donum Spiritus
   Sancti (the gift of the Holy Ghost), and which is conferred on all in
   baptism, and being afterward by actual sins smothered or extinguished,
   is renewed by penance, prayer, &c., and cherished or increased by the
   worthy use of the holy Eucharist and other virtuous practices of a
   Christian life: this grace, I say (whatever it be physically in its own
   nature, if it were examined scholastically, which is not my intent), is
   a certain divine principle or faculty, partaking somewhat of the nature
   of a permanent habit, infused into the spirit of man, by which he is
   enabled, whensoever the free will concurreth actually, both for
   knowing, believing, and practising to do the will of God in all things.
   For the virtue thereof extends itself through all the faculties of the
   soul, curing the distempers, wants, and deordinations that sin had
   caused in them.

   3. This new divine faculty therefore (which seems to be expressed by
   the prophet David, when he saith, signatum est super nos lumen vultus
   tui, Domine, that is, the light of thy countenance, O Lord, is like a
   seal stamped on our souls) doth not, neither is it sufficient of itself
   alone actually to produce any saving effects: as we see that a musician
   or a poet, though never so skilful, do not therefore ever actually sing
   or write verses until some certain occasions or circumstances do
   actually determine them thereto, as gain or requests of others, or
   praise, or a mind to please themselves, &c. For the actual employment
   and exercise of such grace there is, moreover, necessary an actual aid
   from God, who by a special divine providence doth often administer
   occasions, hints, and enablements, exciting the will to waken this
   grace in the soul, which otherwise would lie vacant and unuseful.

   4. And proofs of this daily experience shows us, both in ourselves and
   others, how a sermon or any other word reasonably spoken, or any object
   occurring with due circumstances, doth incite us to lift up our souls
   to God by prayer, to perform some acts of charity, to mortify some
   inordinate affection, &c., yea, sometimes from a desperate sinful
   state, to convert our souls to God. And this doing we (as St. Paul
   exhorts Timothy, anazopurein) raise and blow into a flame the grace
   which before lay in our hearts like coals of fire smothered in the
   ashes. And if this be frequently done, that Grace which at the first
   imparting was but weak, and needed strong endeavours to excite it,
   becomes the more active and more easy to be excited; so that upon any
   the least occasion offered it is ready to bestir itself and disperse
   its odours and virtue, till at last it gets so perfect a dominion in
   perfect souls that it quite subdues the contrary principle of corrupt
   nature; and is scarce ever idle, but the least hint being given, it
   turns the soul presently to God, and keeps it almost continually fixed
   on Him: insomuch as those things which formerly had no effect at all
   upon them, now presently and even violently inflame them.

   5. Yea, in some supereminently perfect souls this gift of God's Holy
   Spirit comes to be so vigorous that it subdues even reason itself, and
   leads it captive after itself, pushing the soul to heroical actions
   without any precedent act of reason or the least deliberation, though
   in the act the soul, by consenting, merits. Thus we read of the ancient
   martyrs, how they by an impetuous impulse of the divine spirit, rushed
   before the persecuting judges to confess the name of Christ. Yea, and
   St. Apollonia cast herself into the fire: the love of Christ burning in
   their hearts and constraining them, as St. Paul says. From the like
   efficacy of the Divine Spirit proceeded that spiritual gift of prayer
   by which the holy primitive Christians in their public meetings
   conceived and poured forth prayers without any concurrence thereto of
   their own invention, God's spirit itself (in St. Paul's expression)
   praying in them. And in this sense principally it is that, I suppose,
   the schools do understand the gifts of the spirit, although most
   certain it is that all holy actions, internal or external, are effects
   of the same Spirit, though in a less degree.

   6. This fundamental grace, therefore, is that talent or stock that has
   God's image on it, and not Caesar's, which God bestows upon every one
   in baptism, &c., to trade withal, which till the will cooeperates with
   the actual aid of God is, as it were, wrapped in a napkin and hid under
   ground, but, being well managed, multiplies into many talents. This is
   that very small but divine seed of which the Evangelist speaks, which,
   being cast in our hearts, by labour and cultivation produces many and
   precious fruits: this is that (Fermentum) leaven, which, being enclosed
   in the three faculties of our souls, as in three measures of meal, doth
   disperse its virtue throughout the whole mass.

   7. Now, to the end I may approach more close to the present matter, we
   may further consider, that as by the exercise of moral philosophical
   virtues there is generated and daily increased by perseverance in the
   same exercise, that most noble universal virtue of moral prudence which
   no study or speculative learning, how great soever, could have
   produced, the which prudence, as the philosopher says, is the skill
   most properly conversant about particular acts (not general notions or
   definitions of things), and enlightens the soul to judge and determine
   in what circumstances and with what concurring qualities an action of
   virtue ought and may with the best advantage and perfection be
   exercised: so that by the help of this virtue of prudence, when it is
   arrived to an excelling degree, a virtuous person will never omit a due
   occason to practise a virtue, nor will he ever do it unseasonably and
   indiscreetly (for then it would not be virtue); and when he exercises
   it he will not be deficient in anything requisite to give a lustre
   thereto. The very same in a due proportion is seen in the exercise of
   divine virtue or charity; for by a constant practice thereof, not only
   charity itself is exalted, multiplied, and increased, but there is
   likewise kindled in the soul by the Spirit of God a light of spiritual
   prudence far more clear and more certain to conduct us in the divine
   ways than moral prudence is in the ways of moral honesty; which divine
   light has this great advantage above prudence, that whereas moral
   wisdom can only teach the exercise of virtue in those occasions (which
   do not every day happen) in which such virtues ought to be exercised,
   neglecting to give any rules to lesser indifferent actions, this divine
   light, which teaches us to love nothing at all but God, accounts no
   actions at all in particular indifferent, but teaches us to direct all
   to the service and love of God, and can discern how one may concur
   thereto more than another, and accordingly choose the best.

   8. Now the reason why, by the exercise of charity alone (and not by any
   study or speculative considerations), this divine light can be kindled,
   is because the blindness and darkness which is naturally in our
   understandings comes principally from the perverse deordination which
   self-love causes in our wills; by means of which we will not suffer the
   understanding to see what it does see; for even when by the light of
   faith we are in general instructed in the offices and rules of virtue
   and piety, yet, in many particulars, self-love adhering to that side
   which we ought to refuse, will either forbid and hinder the
   understanding from considering what is evil or defectuous in it, or if
   there be any the least ground of doubt, it will cast such fair glosses
   on it, and so seduce the understanding to find out motives and
   pretences for the preferring thereof that, in fine, the light itself
   which is in the understanding will mislead us. But when by perfect
   divine charity all these distortions of the will are rectified, and
   that all the subtle insinuations, false pretexts, close interests, and
   designs of self-love are discovered and banished, then the mind beholds
   all things with a clear light, and, proposing God as the end of all
   actions whatsoever, it sees where God is to be found in them, and may
   best be served and obeyed by them; then the will is so far from
   clouding or casting mists before the eyes of the understanding, that if
   there were any before, it alone dispels them; for it is only the
   now-sanctified fervent will that draws the soul in all its faculties
   from all other inferior seducing objects, and carries them in its own
   stream and swift course towards God: it will not suffer the soul to
   choose anything but what is good, yea, the best of all, because God
   would have that to be chosen alone. According, therefore, to the
   measure of charity, so is our measure of divine light. If charity be
   but warm and imperfect, our light in particulars is obscure, and can
   show us only such things as are necessarily to be practised under the
   penalty of being separated from God, the object of charity; but if
   charity be inflamed, how great is the light which that heavenly fire
   casts! not a step we set forward but we see the way perfectly before
   us, and can avoid all the uneven, rough, miry, or crooked steps in it,
   and so run apace without stumbling, delaying, or declining, so
   approaching daily nearer and nearer to the end of our heavenly race.

   9. Moreover, this divine light is either an habitual, permanent light,
   or actual and transitory. The permanent light is the virtue of
   spiritual discretion, without which the actions that to the world give
   the greatest lustre are of little or no profit. Such as are great
   voluntary austerities, performing of solemn offices, almsgiving, &c.,
   all which, unless they come from the principle of true charity, and are
   designed for the increasing and deeper rooting thereof in the spirit,
   are so far from being of any worth that they do rather prejudice and
   diminish that virtue. Both these conditions are requisite to make an
   action perfect and acceptable to God; it must both proceed from Him and
   also be directed to Him: He must not only be the end, but the principle
   also. It is not therefore sufficient for a soul (especially if she
   seriously tend to perfection in contemplation) that the action which
   she does now is in itself good and directed to a good end, unless her
   divine light inform her that in the present circumstances it is God's
   will that she should perform that determinate action rather than
   another, perhaps in itself and in other circumstances, better than it:
   for, as Thaulerus says, God will reward no actions but His own, that
   is, such as He gave order and commission for.

   10. This being a most certain truth, what a world of actions, in
   themselves of no ill aspect, are there done by imperfect, extroverted
   souls, which, having no other fountain, principle, or light from which
   they are at first derived but the light of human reason, they will find
   at God's hands no acceptance at all; such souls lose all benefit by all
   their doings but those which are of absolute necessity, and by many of
   those likewise. Nay, how many are there which, being driven to some
   actions by a violent unlawful passion for or against some person, yet,
   because before the action is ended they can cozen themselves with
   proposing some good end, do therefore think themselves excused? Whereas
   such a proposing of a good end to an action beginning only from corrupt
   nature rather aggravates the fault by adding hypocrisy to it; the which
   themselves might easily discover if they would at the same time
   consider that such objects and persons had been changed. How small a
   proportion of this spiritual light have such souls!

   11. This permanent light of supernatural discretion informs the soul
   generally in all things efficacious to her advancement towards
   contemplation. It teaches her in religious observances culpably to
   neglect none, and to perform them with a pure intention for her
   spiritual good: in mortifications, to support the necessary ones
   willingly and profitably, and assume only such voluntary ones as God
   directs her to, therein considering the infirmity of the body as well
   as the fervour of the will, lest by overburdening nature unnecessarily,
   she be rendered unable to bear even those which are of obligation: in
   prayer it teaches the soul what degree is proper for her, and how long
   she is to continue in it without change till God invite her to a
   higher, and then readily to accept of His invitation. Likewise, what
   proportion of time is requisite to be spent in prayer, so as to make a
   discreet and sufficient progress therein. It teaches her to suspect
   sensible devotion, and not to glut herself with the honey of it, nor to
   follow it too fast to designs of seeming perfection and extraordinary
   tasks, which, when such devotion ends, would be burdensome and harmful:
   in a word, it teaches the soul that due moderation in all things which
   makes them laudable and meritorious.

   12. Now whereas I have called this a permanent and habitual light, it
   is to be observed that, as it is habitual only, it does not direct;
   because, unless it be in action, it is as it were veiled over until
   God, by some occasion administered, do move the soul to reflect and
   consult Him, and hereupon the light is unveiled and shines forth,
   giving direction in the present action and necessity. So that it is
   God, or the gift of his Holy Spirit (very predominant in such souls)
   that is their actual director.

   13. There is none that hath a good will and seeks God in sincerity of
   heart but is capable of such a guidance by the light communicated to
   souls by the Holy Spirit; so that the duty of attending to and obeying
   it has place not only in a contemplative, but also in the exercises of
   a devout active life; for doubtless such likewise have a supernatural
   light answerable to their state, by which they are enabled to perform
   their actions with much purity of intention.

   14. Notwithstanding, in respect of the degrees of purity of intention,
   the doings of contemplative souls do much excel those of active livers,
   by reason of the deeper entry that they make into their interior in
   their more profound, pure, and imageless recollections, by which they
   discover the depth of their most secret intentions, and accordingly
   purify them from whatsoever is amiss in them. Besides, they, according
   to their state, dealing in fewer exterior, distractive employments, do
   both keep themselves in a better disposition to attend to the voice of
   their internal teacher, and also contract fewer blemishes; and those
   that they do contract, they do more easily discern and rectify; lastly,
   being exercised for the most part in internal operations, their
   continual task is to cleanse the very fountain, which is the spirit
   itself, the seat of divine light and grace.

   15. In a contemplative life, likewise, according to the degrees of
   proficiency, so is the attendance unto, and the performance of, the
   divine inspirations; for to perfect souls the divine voice and light is
   in a manner a continual guide, and they have a continual correspondence
   with it, even in their most ordinary smallest actions. Whereas the
   imperfect receive it seldom (forasmuch as concerns the purifying and
   supernaturalising their ordinary actions), except in their
   recollections, yea, perhaps only when they are in the height of their
   exercise. And the like may be said of devout souls in an active life.
   And they do at other times put in execution the directions received in
   prayer by virtue of the light remaining in their minds. But as for
   other actions, for which they have received no light at all in prayer,
   those they perform with the help of their natural reason, or at best by
   the general habitual light of grace only, by virtue of which they avoid
   grosser sinful defects; but yet their actions are stained with great
   impurity of intention, and a mixture of natural and sensual interests.
   The reason is, because imagination and passion being yet very
   predominant in them, do push them hastily to perform their actions
   without sufficient reflection and consulting their internal teacher;
   and if they do endeavour to adjoin a good intention, it comes late
   after the action is either begun or resolved upon for other motives; so
   that the divine love is but an accessory and attendant, not the prime
   mover or principle of the action.

   16. The best means, therefore, that imperfect souls have to cleanse
   their ordinary actions from the impurity of natural interests, is in a
   general manner to forethink daily of their employments of obligation,
   and to foreordain the future employments of the day (I mean such as are
   left to their own voluntary choice and judgment, and that are likely to
   take up any considerable part of their time and thoughts, as certain
   determinate studies, &c.), and thereupon, at their morning
   recollections begging the assistance of the Divine Spirit, let them
   make good purposes to perform them out of the motive of divine love and
   for God's glory; and let them take heed not to change the order
   resolved indiscreetly; yet withal, on the other side, let them avoid
   the entangling themselves with any such resolutions, so as that the
   transgressing of them should cause disturbance or remorse in them. Thus
   doing, and sometimes during the day quietly reflecting upon the promise
   made in the morning recollection, the divine light will grow more and
   more familiar to them, extinguishing by degrees the false light by
   which they were formerly for the most part misled.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VII.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. How a soul is to behave herself to obtain
   light in doubtful cases of moment.

   S: 8. She must not pretend to extraordinary matters.

   S: 9. God signifies His will two ways: first by clearing the
   understanding.

   S:S: 10, 11. Why and how prayer disposes thereto.

   S:S: 12, 13. The second way is by a blind reasonless moving of the
   will.

   S:S: 14, 15. The same confirmed out of [36]St. Thomas and Aristotle.

   S: 16. A confidenoce that these operations are of God.

   S: 17. In what faculties the said operations are wrought.

   S:S: 18, 19. What a soul, not perceiving either of these operations in
   her, is to do.

   S:S: 20, 21, 22. Constancy in a resolution once made requisite; but yet
   in some cases it may be altered.

   S:S: 23, 24. Purposes not to be made in the very time of prayer, except
   of resignation.

   S: 25. A soul must not be troubled if the issue be not as she expects.

   S: 26. Evident certainty not to be expected.

   S: 27. In known cases the declaration of God's will is not to be
   expected.

   1. But now, because, as I said, those that are imperfect have but a dim
   light, insufficient to direct them in many occurrent actions, and those
   that have attained to an habitual supernatural light of discretion do
   find that there are many cases to which their light doth not extend,
   yea, in the most perfect it will fail them in some, therefore, in such
   a case of uncertainty, wherein a well-minded soul has a considerable
   doubt about some matter of moment, either in the course of her prayer
   or in any other thing that concerns an internal life, and that she
   cannot find an experienced person to whom she can confidently propose
   her difficulty, or perhaps has not an interior invitation to seek for
   resolution from any one,--I will endeavour, by the best light that God
   has given me, to instruct such a soul how she is to behave herself in
   such circumstances that she may obtain from God an actual illumination
   or direction; and then I will declare in what manner such light is
   ordinarily conferred upon internal livers.

   2. The matter of the doubt is supposed to be of some weight; for as for
   ordinary inconsiderable difficulties, she may, in the name of God,
   despatch them the best she can with her natural judgment, doing with a
   good intention that which it shall dictate to be the best, troubling
   herself no further about them; because it would be more prejudice to a
   soul to lose time and disquiet herself with a curious and solicitous
   examination of every small difficulty, than if by determining quickly
   she should chance to choose that which in itself were the less perfect
   (it being supposed that sin lies on neither side of the doubt).

   3. Again, some cases there are of such a nature that they are to be
   resolved only by an external director or superior, so that a soul ought
   not, and will in vain expect a resolution from God, who sends her to
   His substitutes. Such are the cases which concern external observances,
   as fasting, saying the divine office, interpreting the [37]Rule, laws,
   or constitutions, &c. The office of the internal Master is chiefly
   about internal matters, or the not doing of external which are not of
   obligation.

   4. In such doubtful cases of moment, especially if they concern
   something to be done, or omitted, or suffered in the future, a devout
   soul is to avoid all sudden and unadvised resolutions; and this
   especially when she is in any kind of passion, whether it be fear,
   anger, grief, or else of tenderness, compassion, and kindness, &c.; and
   chiefly when herself has an interest of nature, or when persons are
   concerned to whom she bears a sensible affection, or from whom she has
   an aversion. In such cases it is good to defer the resolution as long
   as well may be, to the end that she may have the more space to consider
   of it with her natural reason, and to free herself from passion, and so
   with resignation to consult God in her recollections, thereby to obtain
   light from Him to discern His holy will. And another reason and motive
   to defer the matter may be, because it may happen that, before a
   determinate resolution be needful, some new circumstance may spring and
   intervene that will perhaps alter the state of the difficulty.

   5. In case the soul in her nature be inclined more to the one side of
   the doubt than the other, she must enforce herself, especially in
   prayer, to an indifference and resignation in the matter; rather
   forethinking (and accordingly preparing herself) that God will declare
   His will for the contrary to that to which her nature is more inclined.

   6. In seeking to know the divine will by prayer, let not the person
   make the subject and business of his recollection to be the framing a
   direct prayer about the matter; neither let him in his prayer entertain
   any discoursing, debating thoughts in his imagination or understanding
   about it, as if he had an intention to account that to be God's will
   which by such discourse seemed most probable. 1. Because, by such
   proceedings, our prayers, which should be pure and internal in spirit,
   will be turned into a distracting meditation upon all external affair,
   and so the mind comes to be filled with sensible images, and passions
   perhaps will be raised. 2. Because by so doing we incur the danger of
   being seduced, by mistaking our own imagination or perhaps natural
   inclination for the divine light and motion, whereas such divine light
   is most effectually and securely, yea, and seldom otherwise, obtained
   than when the imagination is quiet and the soul in a profound
   recollection in spirit. 3. Because such discoursing in time of prayer
   is anything else but prayer, being little more than human consideration
   and examination of the matter, the which, if at all, ought to be
   despatched before prayer.

   7. Let not the soul, therefore, that is desirous by prayer to obtain
   light from God in a doubtful matter, for that end alter anything in the
   order and manner of her accustomed recollections, but let her pursue
   them as she was wont before; only it may be permitted her secretly and
   briefly to wish that God would teach her His will about the said
   difficulty.

   8. But let her be sure to take great care she do not give way to any
   hope or desire that God should reconcile His will unto her by any
   extraordinary way, as by the ministry of angels, strange revelations,
   voices, &c.; for as nothing but pride can ordinarily nourish such
   foolish hopes or desires, so it is to be feared that if such desires
   should be granted, it would be to her prejudice, and would increase
   that pride from whence they flowed.

   9. Now there are two ordinary ways by which God intimates His will to
   his servants that, with humble and resigned prayers, address themselves
   unto Him. The first is by clearing of the understanding, thereto adding
   a supernatural light, by which natural reason comes to see something
   that it saw not before, or at least did not esteem before so
   considerable; for by this new light of supernatural discretion such
   obscurities as did before hinder reason from discerning truth are
   removed. The which obscurities are generally caused by sensible images
   which have prepossessed themselves of the fancy, or by interests of
   nature which have engaged the affections; by both which reason is
   precipitated to hasten a judgment and election before she have
   considered maturely and without partiality all circumstances fit to be
   considered in an action; so that reason wanting this supernatural light
   kindled by charity determines itself to choose that part to which
   passion inclines.

   10. Now since there are no means so efficacious to free the soul from
   both these impediments as pure spiritual prayer, in which the soul
   transcends all gross sensual images, and withal contradicts and
   renounces all motions and interests of nature, we may securely rely
   upon the light and dictamen which is suggested by our understanding so
   cleared, purified, and freed from all noise and distraction from the
   sensible faculties and appetite; and this being the best and safest
   light that man can have, we may and must acknowledge it to be
   supernatural, because it illuminates us in supernatural things,
   discovering the proportion between the present action and our
   supernatural end, and extinguishing the light of carnal reason, by
   which the things which are of God are either not seen at all, or
   esteemed foolishness. It is therefore to be accepted as the very light
   of God's Holy Spirit, a light that cannot be obtained by study, nor
   instilled into another by the most spiritual person in the world. Yea,
   moreover, it is a light that exceeds the efficacy of the ordinary light
   of faith which is permanently in us, by which we are only illuminated
   to perceive in a general manner supernatural objects, and the means
   leading to them; whereas, by this lamp newly kindled in our
   understandings by prayer and charity, we clearly discern in each
   particular actions and circumstances in what manner and how far they
   have relation and efficacy to dispose us to a perfect union by love
   with God.

   11. If a soul before her recollections hath advised and considered of
   the difficulty, and that afterward upon her prayer she do find herself
   inclined to do what before she, consulting with her own reason or with
   any other counsellor, had judged to be the best, I should esteem it now
   to be a divine inspiration: not for the former debating's sake, but for
   the subsequent confirmation of it in virtue of recollection.

   12. The second way by which God doth immediately signify His will to
   the intellective soul in virtue of prayer is by imprinting a blind,
   reasonless motion into the superior will, giving it a weight and
   propension to one side of the doubt rather than to the other, without
   representing actually and at the present to the understanding any
   special motive or reason sufficient to determine the will. This also,
   coming, in virtue of spiritual prayer, may confidently be esteemed the
   work of God, since no creature can immediately move the superior will.

   13. Pertinently hereto we read that the holy Abbot Nisteron (who was a
   familiar friend of St. Anthony), being asked by one what kind of work
   he would advise him to exercise for the good and advancement of his
   soul? answered, God only knows what is good for thee to do, and
   therefore look what thou findest that thy soul, according to God, would
   have thee to do, that do thou.

   14. Certainly, if ever God will show that He stands to His promise of
   granting the petitions of His children in all things which they ask
   according to His will, this promise is in no case so infallibly made
   good as when a sincere humble-minded soul, being urged merely out of
   spiritual necessity, doth with all resignation beg at His hands the
   light of his Holy Spirit for resolution of the difficulties that
   concern her purely in order to His service and honour, and for the
   perfecting her in His divine love. When can a soul be said to ask
   according to God's will, but when, withdrawing herself from all
   interests of nature and fixing her eyes and heart upon God only, she
   makes her requests known unto Him?

   15. The doctrine here delivered, and particularly touching this
   reasonless and indeliberate moving of the will to good, is excellently
   and fully confirmed by [38]St. Thomas (part 1, q. 1 a. 6), where to the
   third objection made against his position, that the doctrine of
   scholastic divinity is [Sapientia] wisdom, which objection was thus
   conceived: this doctrine is attained by study; but wisdom is had by
   infusion (and thereupon it is reckoned among the seven gifts of the
   Holy Ghost--Isa. xi.): therefore this doctrine is not wisdom. Hereto he
   answers thus: "Since judging pertains to a wise man, according to a
   twofold manner of judging, wisdom is understood in a twofold sense. For
   one may judge: 1. Either by way of inclination: as he that hath the
   habit of virtue doth rightly judge of those things which are to be done
   according to virtue, inasmuch as he is inclined unto such things.
   Whereupon it is said in the tenth Book of Aristotle's Ethics, that a
   virtuous man is the measure and rule of human actions. 2. By way of
   knowledge: as any one that is skilled in moral science can judge of the
   acts of virtue, although himself be void of virtue. The former way of
   judging of divine things pertains to wisdom, which is affirmed to be a
   gift of the Holy Ghost, according to that saying of St. Paul (1 Cor.
   ii. 15): "The spiritual man judgeth all things;" as likewise St. Denys
   saith in his 2d chap. De Div. Nom.: Hierothus is instructed, not only
   learning, but also suffering divine things. But the latter way of
   judging pertains to this doctrine, inasmuch as it is gotten by study,
   although indeed the principles thereof come from divine revelation.'
   Thus far are the words of [39]St. Thomas.

   16. Yea, even Aristotle himself, though a heathen, could observe (lib.
   ii. Magn. Moral. c. 7) that to that good which is honest (and virtuous)
   there is first required a certain reasonless impulse, and thereby the
   reason is enabled to discern and determine. But more pertinently and
   expressly in the following chapter he saith thus: Good fortune is
   without any precedent act of reason; for by nature he is indeed
   fortunate that, without the exercise of reason, is impelled to good or
   virtuous things and attains them. Now this is to be ascribed to nature;
   for such (an inclination) is naturally imprinted in our souls, by which
   we are impelled to such things as will render us happy without any
   exercise of reason: insomuch as if one should ask any person so
   disposed, Why doth it please thee to do so? he would answer, Truly I
   know not, but so it pleases me to do. The like happens to those that
   are divinely inspired and agitated, for such are impelled to the doing
   of some things without the exercise of reason. Lastly, the same
   philosopher, observing that sometimes there are suddenly injected into
   some souls certain good thoughts and desires, from which many following
   good actions do proceed; and hereupon inquiring from what principle
   such good thoughts may be judged to proceed, he resolves that the soul
   herself is not the cause of them, because they precede all exercise of
   reason; therefore the cause of them must be somewhat better than the
   soul, and that is only God.

   17. The forementioned illustration is supposed to be not in the
   imagination, but purely in the understanding; as likewise the motion
   and inclination to be in the spiritual will, and not in the sensitive
   appetite, for otherwise they would not deserve so much to be relied on,
   because the workings of the imagination are so inconstant and
   irregular, and the sensible motions of the inferior appetite (being in
   corporal nature, producing a warmth about the heart and a stirring of
   spirits and humours) are so disorderly, that they are very justly
   suspicious and scarce to be trusted to. Therefore, although in a
   fervent exercise of much sensible devotion the sensual nature do after
   her manner carry herself well towards God, yet the superior soul, being
   not in a state of due tranquillity and stillness, is less capable of
   divine illustrations and influxes; and therefore the soul's
   inclinations, resolutions, and designs at such times are less to be
   regarded.

   18. Now if it should happen that, after such trials by prayer made for
   the knowing of the divine will, the soul should yet perceive no
   sufficient light, nor any considerable inclination, propension, or
   preponderation towards one side more than another, in this case,
   according to Thaulerus's judgment, she may freely and confidently, as
   it were by lots, make choice indifferently of whether she thinks fit;
   and a choice so made, whenever it happens, she may and ought to believe
   to be according to God's will, since, having done her part to know His
   will, after all this is the result of her recollections, in which she
   has to her utmost power carried herself with resignation and
   indifference.

   19. Notwithstanding, in making a choice in such circumstances, she may
   do well to use, or at least to advise upon these cautions: 1. Generally
   speaking, when two things seem in all respects to be equal, it were
   better, at least safer, to choose that side on which lies the greater
   mortification to nature. 2. She may do well to make choice of not doing
   rather than doing, especially if the doing be likely to engage the soul
   in any distractions or solicitudes; for the election of not doing is
   more suitable to the perfection of a contemplative state and the spirit
   of our order and rule, that tends to God by abstraction, silence,
   solitude, &c. 3. Let her choose that side which she thinks would be
   more agreeable and better approved by virtuous and devout friends. 4.
   Let her follow the example of any one of whom she has a good opinion,
   in case the matter concerns others, as if the question be about giving
   a suffrage in the election of superiors, &c, 5. If the business concern
   herself and her own soul's good only, she is not always obliged to
   choose that which in itself is most perfect, but therein she is to
   consider her own present state and degree, and whether the choice will
   be likely to produce good or ill effects and inconveniences for the
   future as well as the present. For example, it is certainly in itself
   the most desirable perfection that a soul can aspire to, and to which
   she is also obliged to tend, to keep herself always in the divine
   presence, and in a constant state of recollectedness, or to renounce
   all manner of satisfactions to nature, &c. But if an imperfect soul
   should therefore attempt the exercise of internal prayer without
   interruption, or to practise so universal a mortification, she would
   overthrow corporal nature utterly, and in a short time, by indiscreet
   overdoing, come to an inability to do anything at all. To her,
   therefore, in such a state, that is to be esteemed most perfect which
   in itself is less perfect, to wit, a fervent but moderate exercise both
   of prayer and mortification, by which she will be enabled by little and
   little to get ground upon nature, and at last to do that which will be
   both in itself most perfect, and to her also.

   20. A soul having, after the manner aforesaid, made a resolution and
   election, it is the advice of Michael Constantiensis, a devout prior of
   the Carthusians, that she should persevere in it, yea, though
   afterwards something by some others should be suggested to her contrary
   to such a resolution; although also that which is so suggested should
   seem to be more profitable and of greater perfection. Just after the
   same manner that a soul, having once advisedly submitted herself to the
   direction of a spiritual guide, is not to hearken to nor accept from
   any other any reason contrary to his directions, nor any
   discouragements from obeying him. And surely, saith he, a much greater
   obligation hath a soul to follow the interior counsel of God sought by
   a resigned, persevering prayer, to which our Lord has given an express
   promise, saying, Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, believe that ye
   shall receive it, and it shall happen unto you. And such was the
   practice of B. Angela de Foligno, &c.

   21. To this purpose it is very observable, in the life of the same B.
   Angela, that God commanded her to set down in writing this passage
   (which is the only one for which she received such a command), to wit,
   that He would take away His light and grace from those who, being
   brought immediately to their internal master, would be so ungrateful as
   to forsake Him, and betake themselves to an external one; yea, and that
   moreover such should have a curse from Him, namely, if they did persist
   in receding from the divine conduct, constantly preferring human
   directions before God's.

   22. Yet this advice of being constant to a resolution so made is to
   give place. 1. In case a superior should command anything contrary
   thereto; for a superior must be obeyed, even against such an interior
   counsel; because a soul is not only counselled, but also commanded to
   obey her superiors. So that whensoever a superior does deliberately
   disapprove a counsel so received, a devout soul is to believe that now
   it is God's will that His former counsel should cease from being any
   further obliging. 2. In case that any other different circumstances
   shall occur, which may perhaps alter the state of the difficulty;
   notwithstanding such a change is not to be made upon this last ground,
   without new recurring to God for light. Yea, though the reasons for a
   change be never so clear, yet it is best it should be made in virtue of
   prayer, to the end it may be done with greater purity of intention.

   23. Now in all cases of such like nature, the purpose and resolution is
   seldom to be made in the very time of our recollections; both because
   (as hath been said) the thinking on such matters is not the proper
   subject of prayer, but is very distractive; and likewise because the
   internal illustrations and motions of God's Spirit are better perceived
   after prayer, when the soul, having been recollected, doth reflect on
   them.

   24. But it is otherwise in matters of resignation, or when we pray for
   patience and tranquillity of mind in crosses and difficulties. For in
   such cases we are to make our good purposes in our prayers themselves,
   and oft are to renew them afterwards; because such purposes do of
   themselves presently appear to be clear and obligatory, and besides,
   they are proper matter for prayer.

   25. After that a soul hath made a resolution in the cases, and after
   the manner aforesaid, and likewise hath put the same in practice, let
   the issue be what it will, whether profitable or harmful to nature, yet
   must she never esteem the election to have been amiss; nor must she
   hearken to any suggestions of nature, the which, finding in such
   practices something contrary to her inclinations, will be apt by subtle
   insinuations to move the soul to repent and to undo what she hath done.
   Such an erroneous judgment, procured by corrupt nature, is to be
   despised and deposed; for well may we happen to err in the manner of
   executing such counsel given us by God, and thereby, or by some other
   means, inconveniences or harms may sometimes befall us; but the
   election in itself, made in the manner aforesaid, was good, and it
   would be an act of immortification to blame it, or to be sorry for it.
   God for our good doth often turn our best deeds to our greatest
   mortification, and thereby we reap a double benefit.

   26. In such doubtful cases as have here been spoken of, a soul must not
   expect an apparent evident certitude, as spiritual writers say; for
   God, to keep the soul in humility, does not use to give an absolute
   assurance of the matter itself simply considered, but only a certainty
   of being directed and drawn more to one side of the difficulty than to
   the other; the which side, in the judgment of the said authors, is to
   be chosen and followed as the divine will. So that any advantage or
   preponderation, though never so little, towards one side more than
   another, maketh certitude enough of God's will as for standing to it.
   If there be no perceptible difference or leaning either way, the soul
   is either to take advice from some other, or to supply it with her
   natural impartial reason, or even, as it were, by lots to choose which
   she thinks good. And what she doth after this manner, she may
   equivalently be said to do as by the direction and impulse of the
   Divine Spirit; because it is God's will and appointment that, when
   Himself does not direct us immediately by His Spirit, we should make
   use of other inferior external ways the best we can for our direction:
   in all things always intending His glory and increase in His love only.

   27. It would be a vain, presumptuous, and dangerous tempting of God to
   go and pray to the end to know His will in things commanded by known
   laws and by lawful superiors, for they are appointed by Him as the most
   assured interpreters of His will; and to expect any more is to pretend
   to extraordinary illuminations and calls, which are neither to be
   desired nor trusted to, because there will be great danger of illusion
   by the devil's counterfeiting a good angel; and he that is so
   presumptuous in his practice, deserves that God permit such illusions.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VIII.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3. Sufficient assurance may be had that inspirations are
   from God.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7. A soul, therefore, may securely commit herself to
   God's guidance; and why?

   S: 8. No danger if a soul should sometimes be mistaken, taking that for
   an inspiration which is not so.

   1. Now all these instructions and exhortations to attend unto and
   depend on the divine inspirations would be vain; yea, all the promises
   of God, that He would give His Holy Spirit to those that pray for it as
   they ought, would be as vain, if there were no means to be assured of
   such inspirations that they are from God--by an assurance, I mean, of
   hope: for a certainty of faith (without extraordinary revelation)
   cannot be had of such matters which necesssarily suppose the like
   assurance of being in the state of grace. Hence it is that Thaulerus,
   Blosius, Michael Constantiensis, &c., do teach us how we may discern,
   and with confidence judge resolutely what is a divine inspiration;
   saying, That the devout soul which proceeds with recollection and
   resignation in all doubtful matters of importance, may and ought to
   take that to be the divine will, to which she is interiorly moved in or
   after her recollection (when as passions do not prevail in her), so
   long as the matter is not otherwise contrary to external obedience, or
   other law of God or man.

   2. For it is certain, yea, and faith obliges us to believe, that in all
   the good actions we do, or good thoughts we entertain, we so do and
   think in virtue only of a precedent and concomitant illumination of our
   understanding and inclining of our will, both which are immediately
   caused by God. Reason, likewise, and experience tell us, that whilst
   vain or sinful distracting images or inordinate passions cloud the
   mind, God's illuminations are either unperceived or neglected by us,
   and His motions ineffectual. If ever, therefore, the soul be in a fit
   disposition to receive those blessed effects of God's Holy Spirit, and
   if ever God will make good His so serious and frequent promises, it is
   then when by a profound recollection, an humble soul withdraws all her
   affections from herself and all other creatures, yea, and endeavours to
   expel all the images of them, transcending all created things, and
   raising herself according to her power to a strict union with Him, and
   withal pours forth her desire to be informed in His will, only
   intending thereby His glory and the increase of His divine love.

   3. Now though imperfect souls, not being able as yet to drive away
   distracting images and to still all unruly passions, are forced to
   content themselves with their natural light in many matters of less
   importance, so that a great part of their ordinary actions do not at
   all contribute to their advancement in spirit, yet perfect souls walk
   almost continually in a supernatural light, perceiving and resisting
   the subtle insinuations of self-love, and not suffering themselves
   hastily to be pushed forwards to actions, before they have consulted
   their internal guide, and much less contrary to His directions.

   4. Most securely, therefore, may we, yea, with all confidence ought we
   to yield ourselves to be disposed of by God, and to follow Him in any
   ways that He will lead us, both for the exterior and interior, through
   light and darkness, through bitter and sweet. And what doubt can there
   be of erring, having such a guide, which always leads the soul through
   the paths of mortification and renunciation of self-will? although
   sometimes some special ways may to our or others' natural judgments
   seem strange and perhaps impertinent.

   5. The grounds of which duty and the security attending it are these:
   1. Because we, through the ignorance of our interior complexion and
   temper of soul, as likewise of our present wants (incomprehensible to
   human knowledge got by sense), can neither know the special ways either
   of prayer or mortification proper to us; nor can we be assured that
   others do sufficiently know them; whereas, of God's omniscience and
   equally infinite goodness, none can doubt. 2. Because, the end whereto
   we aspire being supernatural, consequently the ways leading thereunto,
   and the light directing in those ways, must likewise be supernatural.
   3. Because if we knew the most proper and most direct ways leading to
   contemplation and divine union, yet they being most contrary to our
   natural inclinations, without a divine impulse we should not choose the
   fittest, that is, those which are the most opposite to our nature.

   6. Yet we are to consider that there are degrees of security, according
   to the several manners by which God communicates unto us His
   inspirations. For, 1. Though in sensible devotion the good thoughts and
   affections given us are in themselves and according to their substance
   the effects of God's Spirit, and ought with all security to be complied
   withal (yet with discretion, so as that out of gluttonous pleasure
   conceived by them we do not yield unto them so far as thereby to weaken
   our heads or prejudice our healths), notwithstanding the resolutions of
   undertaking any practices for the future, grounded on such sensible
   devotion, are to be mistrusted, as having in them more of nature and
   self-love, and wanting sincerity or resignation. Besides that the
   senses being principal workers, the reason is rather obscured than
   illuminated thereby; yea, and by God's permission, the devil may have
   some influence in such devotion and subsequent resolutions. 2. Of the
   like uncertain nature may the seeming inspirations or lights be, which
   are gotten by the working of the imagination and discourse upon the
   matter, either in prayer or out of it; the person thereupon concluding
   this or that side to be more likely to be God's will. 3. But if without
   such working of the imagination, or if after it, the soul in
   recollected prayer made with resignation and submission of her natural
   judgment, and renouncing all interests of nature, comes, as it were,
   unexpectedly to have one part of the question presented to her mind as
   truth and as God's will, God then giving a clarity to the reason to see
   that which it saw not before, or otherwise than it saw it; or if the
   soul do find a blind and reasonless motion in the will to one side of
   the matter: in such cases the soul may most securely and confidently
   judge it to be a divine inspiration and motion, being wrought without
   any trouble in the exercise of the imagination, senses, or passions.

   7. Let not a soul, therefore, be discouraged from committing herself to
   God's internal direction, though it should happen that those who pass
   for the most spiritual persons, and that are most forward to usurp the
   conducting of souls to perfection (whilst themselves know no further
   than the exercises of the imagination), should declaim against it, and
   out of an apprehension that it would be a disparagement to them if God
   should be acknowledged the principal guide, they should accuse the
   doctrine here delivered as fantastical, unsafe, and pretending to
   enthusiasms. No wonder is it if such, being strangers to the
   contemplative ways of the spirit, should be ignorant of these secret
   paths by which God leads souls to perfection; in the which none can
   tread, or at least make any considerable progress, till, quitting a
   servile dependence on external teachers, they rely only upon the divine
   guidance. And for this purpose devout souls are seriously and oft to be
   exhorted to keep themselves in a disposition of as much abstraction
   both external and internal as may be, to the end they may be enabled to
   hear and discern the divine voice; to the directions of which if they
   will in practice faithfully correspond, God will be wanting to them in
   nothing.

   8. And for a further security that there can scarce happen any
   considerable danger to a soul proceeding this way for knowing the
   divine will, though she should sometimes mistake in the thing itself,
   both she and also the opposers of this doctrine are to consider that
   (as hath formerly been said) the only matters that are here supposed to
   be proposed for a resolution are, and must be, of the nature of those
   things which of themselves and in the general are indifferent, but yet
   which, being well chosen, may and will advance the soul; for in no
   other things but such can there be any doubt. And surely if we be
   capable of knowing God's will in such things (as who can question it?),
   certainly the proceeding thus with indifference and resignation, and
   without suddenness of resolution or motion of natural passions, or
   self-love, is the most secure and most assured way to come to that
   knowledge.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IX.

   S: 1. Objections prevented.

   S:S: 2, 3. Difference between the terms Inspirations' (being only
   internal) and Calls,' which are also external.

   S:S: 4, 5. How inspirations direct us about external calls and
   obligations.

   S: 6. External calls are to overrule internal.

   S:S: 7, 8. Authority of superiors ought to overrule inspirations, even
   in things not of obligation.

   S: 9. Inconsiderate commands of superiors in such things to be obeyed,
   though superiors will be severely accountable to God.

   S: 10. Decay of true spirituality arises from the ignorance or neglect
   of this doctrine touching attending to divine inspirations.

   1. Lastly, to prevent all misunderstanding of this most holy and most
   necessary doctrine touching our obligation to attend unto (and to
   practise accordingly) the divine inspirations directing us to acts of
   perfection, as likewise to prevent all misapplication thereof by souls
   that ought and are willing to follow it, I will here take away the
   pretended grounds upon which some who, either out of ignorance,
   passion, or interest, have declared themselves to be enemies thereto,
   do declaim against it, supposing that they have a great advantage
   against it, whilst they pretend that by the teaching and practising of
   it great prejudice will come to the due authority of superiors, from
   which their subjects, following these instructions, will endeavour to
   exempt themselves, upon a pretext of divine inspirations to the
   contrary.

   2. For the clearing, therefore, and dissolving of this supposed
   difficulty and inconvenience, we are to consider that, though in this
   discourse we have promiscuously used the terms of inspirations, lights,
   impulses, divine calls, &c., yet the former are only such operations of
   God as are internal; whereas the term of divine calls imports both an
   external ordination of God, and also His internal operation in our
   souls suitable to the external call. And both these are properly termed
   calls, because by both of them God doth signify His will to souls; for
   by the external ordination and commission given by God to all in lawful
   authority under Him, God by them doth reveal His will unto us, which we
   obey whilst we submit unto and execute the commands and wills of His
   substitutes. And by His internal operation He directs us to perform
   such obedience, in a spiritual manner, for the good and advancement of
   our souls in His divine love.

   3. All laws, therefore, all constitutions, precepts, and commands of
   superiors, and all external or internal duties of obligation by virtue
   of our state of life as Christians, or moreover as religious or
   ecclesiastical persons, &c., are, indeed, and so to be esteemed by us,
   true divine calls, necessarily to be attended to, known, and performed
   by us.

   4. And as for internal inspirations which have regard unto those
   external calls, the end for which they are given us is not only simply
   to direct and incline us to perform all our Christian, regular, or
   other duties with readiness and cheerfulness but to do them with
   perfection and purity of intention, in and for God only, as if He had
   immediately and visibly imposed them upon us. And forasmuch as concerns
   the not doing (to which I said that in a contemplative life the divine
   inspirations do invite us), that is meant only in matters either
   indifferent, or at least to the which we have no obligation by virtue
   of any external law. Yea, on the contrary, we may say that our holy
   rule (the end whereof is to dispose and lead us to a perfect union with
   God by contemplation) doth in general oblige us to such abstraction and
   not doing, wheresoever it doth not require the doing of anything of us.

   5. Therefore, whatsoever internal suggestions, motions, or impulses we
   may find that shall be contrary or prejudicial to such external calls
   to obedience and regularity, we are to be so far from hearkening to
   them or esteeming them for divine, that we ought to despise and reject
   them, judging them to be no better than diabolical illusions. Yea, this
   is to hold, although the said external laws, commands, or observances
   be such as we in our private judgment cannot think to be very proper or
   convenient for us in particular.

   6. Now the reason why no internal suggestion ought to take place of
   external obligations is evident and convincing; because such external
   calls to obedience being of themselves both manifest and certainly
   unquestionable tokens and expressions of the divine will, they ought
   not to give place to any supposed internal significations of the same
   will whatsoever, which are not nor can be so manifest, but rather to
   prescribe rules unto them and overrule them. We know the former to be
   God's will, and to proceed from Him, and therefore we cannot rationally
   believe that those things that are opposite thereto can be acceptable
   to Him. Besides, God's will revealed to a subject by the mouth of his
   superior, or by established laws, has a kind of public authority, being
   derived by a public person and mean, and therefore must needs take
   place and be preferred before an inspiration or signification of the
   divine will to a private person alone.

   7. Yea, moreover, so indispensably careful and even scrupulous ought we
   to be that exterior order and due subordination appointed by God should
   not upon any pretence be prejudiced, that we are to regard the
   authority of superiors even in doing or omitting those things which are
   not within the compass of any special laws or commands, but are left to
   our own liberty and judgment. So that we ought not to put in execution
   anything to which we are by an internal inspiration invited or
   directed, without the approbation and leave (either express or
   interpretative) of our superior; and if the matter be of considerable
   moment, his express permission is requisite.

   8. Yea, I will add further, that if a religious subject shall have an
   inspiration which he confidently believes to be divine, by which he is
   invited to the doing of anything, yet if his superior shall declare
   such an inspiration not to be divine, and forbid the executing of what
   it directs, the subject ought not only to obey his superior by
   forbearing to do according to such an inspiration, but he is also
   obliged to submit his judgment and to believe his superior. And this he
   may sincerely and securely do; because though it were so that in truth
   the inspiration came from God, and did direct to the doing of a thing
   more perfect or to a more perfect omission, yet all this is to be
   understood only conditionally, that is, upon supposition that a lawful
   superior did not judge and command otherwise. For in such a case it
   would be an act of greater perfection in the subject to obey him
   forbidding the doing or forbearing of anything, though in itself (and
   such prohibition not considered) more perfect. Yea, and a divine light
   and a new inspiration will inform and direct the subject to obey and
   believe the superior declaring against the former inspiration. For
   though nothing that a superior in such circumstances can say will make
   the former inspiration not to have come from God, yet his declaring
   against it will show it not to be of force now, since that all such
   inspirations do and ought to suppose the consent, or at least the
   nonopposition, of the superior, before they be put in practice; and
   therefore they are to give place to an inspiration of obeying, which is
   absolute. True it is that in such a case it may happen that the
   superior may commit a great fault, and must expect to be accountable to
   God for it; but howsoever, the subject, in obeying such an undue
   command, shall not only be innocent, but also merit thereby; because in
   both cases he doth well--first, in being prepared to obey the former
   inspiration, which was conditional, and afterwards in contradicting
   that, to obey a second inspiration of submitting to his superior, which
   was absolute.

   9. As it concerns, therefore, particular souls to depend principally
   upon their internal director, so likewise are superiors and spiritual
   guides no less obliged to penetrate into the dispositions of their
   subjects and disciples, and to discover by what special ways the Spirit
   of God conducts them, and suitably thereto to conform themselves and to
   comply with the intention of the Divine Spirit. And this duty our holy
   patriarch, in the 64th chapter of his [40]Rule, requires from all
   abbots or superiors, forbidding them to use rigour in the correction of
   their subjects, or so rudely to scour the vessels as thereby to
   endanger the breaking of them. He would not have them likewise to be
   restlessly suspicious and jealous over their subjects, but in their
   impositions to use great discretion (which he calls the mother of
   virtues), considering each one's ability, and saying with Jacob, If I
   force my flocks to travel beyond their strength, they will all of them
   die at once,' &c. If the superior, therefore, in a humour of
   commanding, on his own head, should impose commands on his subjects
   without any regard to the divine will and guidance, such commands will
   probably prove unprosperous as to the subject, and certainly very
   dangerous to the superior. Yet so it may be, that the subject may reap
   spiritual profit by them; for then it may please God to give him an
   interior enablement to turn such undue commands to his own good and
   advancement, by increasing in him the habit of resignation and
   humility. It will, indeed, be very hard for imperfect souls to reap
   benefit by such inconsiderate superiors; but as for perfect ones, they
   have both light and spiritual strength to convert all the most
   unreasonable commands of superiors to the benefit and advancement of
   their own souls.

   10. In case a superior should forbid a subject to pray at this or that
   time, or should command him to spend no longer than such a small space
   of time in internal prayer as would not suffice for his advancement in
   the internal ways of the spirit, the Rule of Perfection requires the
   subject to obey his superior; yet he may with all humility remonstrate
   to him his spiritual necessities, acquainting him with the great
   benefit that his soul finds in a constant performance of his
   recollections, and in attending to divine inspirations, and what
   prejudice it might be to him to be forbidden or abridged of them. But
   if the superior do persist, he must be obeyed, and God will some other
   way supply the loss the subject finds in such particular obediences.
   Now though a superior can no more forbid in general the use of internal
   prayer and of observing divine inspirations than he can forbid the
   loving or obeying of God, yet whether prayer shall be exercised at such
   certain appointed times, or for such a determinate space of tune, that
   is within the limits of a superior's authority; and how he employs that
   authority, it will concern him to consider. For if he guides souls
   according to his own will and not God's (and surely God's internal
   inspirations are His will), besides the guilt that he shall contract by
   the abusing of his authority, he must expect that all the harm or
   prejudice that his subjects' souls, through his miscarriage, shall
   incur, will be heaped and multiplied upon his soul.

   11. But concerning the duties and obligations of superiors towards
   souls whose profession is to tread these internal ways of
   contemplation, more shall be said hereafter in its proper place; where
   it shall be demonstrated, that these instructions are so far from
   prejudicing their authority, that true cordial obedience will never,
   nor can be, perfectly performed to them but by such souls as are most
   zealous and constant in the essential duties of prayer and attending to
   the inspirations of God's Holy Spirit.

   12. To conclude this whole discourse concerning divine inspirations: As
   these advices are not curiously to be applied to the practice of
   fearful scrupulous souls, whose unquiet thoughts make them in a manner
   incapable of either light or impulses of God's spirit in matters about
   which their scrupulosity is exercised, so in those cases they are to
   follow instructions peculiarly proper to them. But forasmuch as
   concerns all other well-disposed souls that lead contemplative lives,
   this doctrine ought to be seriously recommended to them, and they are
   to be taught how to practise it. For by this and no other way can they
   assuredly understand or perform the divine will, in which alone
   consists spiritual perfection. By these inspirations alone the interior
   is regulated, without which all exterior good carriage is little
   available to perfection. No external director can order the interior
   operations of the soul, either in prayer or mortification; none but God
   alone, who knows and searches the hearts of men. And His principal way
   of directing is by His inspirations, which, by the acknowledgment of
   all good Christians, are necessary, to every action to make it good or
   meritorious. These inspirations, therefore, we must follow; therefore
   they may be known, for we cannot be obliged to follow an invisible and
   undiscernible light, we know not what. And if they may be known, surely
   the rules here prescribed for that purpose (to wit, abstraction of
   life, and pure, resigned prayer) are the most secure and most
   efficacious means to come to that knowledge, and to procure grace to
   work accordingly.

   13. And it may very reasonably be believed that the principal ground
   and reason why true spirituality is in these days so rare, and why
   matters go so amiss among souls that pretend to aspire to
   contemplation, is because this most necessary duty of observing and
   following divine inspirations is either unknown or wilfully
   misunderstood, and suspected (if not derided) by some who, in popular
   opinion, are held and desire to pass for chief masters in spirituality.
   And no wonder is it that such should be disaffected to this doctrine,
   of the perfect practice whereof themselves are incapable, by reason of
   their distractive employments and imperfect degree of prayer; and
   consequently, neither can they, nor perhaps if they could would they,
   teach it to others, since thereby many souls would quickly be
   discharged from any necessity of continuing in a dependence on their
   managing and directions.

   14. If any there be that, notwithstanding all that hath been here
   written touching divine inspirations and the necessity of attending to
   them, shall yet be unsatisfied, or at least suspect that the publishing
   of such doctrine may not be convenient--such a one, for further
   satisfaction, may consult the Appendix adjoined at the end of the
   treatises.


   [The Appendix here promised was not given. But, as will be seen at the
   end, Father Cressy partly supplies the omission in an Advertisement and
   a Postscript to the Reader.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  THE

THIRD SECTION OF THE FIRST TREATISE,

    TOUCHING THE SCHOOL OF CONTEMPLATION, VIZ. SOLITUDE AND A RELIGIOUS
    PROFESSION.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1, 2. That the proper school of contemplation is solitude.

   S: 3. Which may be enjoyed in the world.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6. Contemplation is by God denied to no states. Yea, in some
   regards women are rather better disposed thereto than men. And why?

   S:S: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The condition of ecclesiastics in the
   world is of great perfection. What dispositions are required to the
   undertaking and executing of that sublime charge.

   1. Having hitherto treated of the nature and end of an internal
   contemplative life in general, as likewise of the general quality and
   disposition requisite to all those who by a divine vocation do
   undertake that sublime course of life; and, in consequence thereto,
   having demonstrated that the only sufficient master and guide in such a
   life is God and His divine inspirations, by whom alone both disciples
   and also masters and guides must be directed, it remains, in the third
   place, that I should show what and where the school is, wherein
   ordinarily this Divine Master instructs His disciples in this so
   heavenly divine doctrine and science.

   2. Now, by the unanimous acknowledgment of all mystic writers, the only
   proper school of contemplation is solitude; that is, a condition of
   life both externally freed from the distracting incumbrances, tempting
   flatteries, and disquieting solicitudes of the world; and likewise,
   wherein the mind internally is in a good measure, at least in serious
   desire, freed also from inordinate affection to all worldly and carnal
   objects, that so the soul may be at leisure to attend unto God, who
   deserves all our thoughts and affections, and to practise such duties
   of mortification and prayer as dispose her for an immediate perfect
   union with Him.

   3. Now though this so necessary solitude be found both more perfectly
   and more permanently in a well-ordered religious state, which affords
   likewise many other advantages (scarce to be found elsewhere), for the
   better practising the exercises disposing to contemplation, yet is it
   not so confined to that state but that, in the world also, and in a
   secular course of life, God hath oft raised and guided many souls in
   these perfect ways, affording them even there as much solitude and as
   much internal freedom of spirit as He saw was necessary to bring them
   to a high degree of perfection.

   4. And indeed it is an illustrious proof of the abundant, most
   communicative, overflowing riches of the divine goodness to all His
   servants whatsoever that in truth of heart seek Him, that this state of
   contemplation (being the supremest and most divine that an intellectual
   soul is capable of either in this life or in heaven also) should
   neither be enclosed only in caverns, rocks, or deserts, nor fixed to
   solitary religious communities, nor appropriated to the subtlety of
   wit, profoundness of judgment, gifts of learning or study, &c.; but
   that the poorest, simplest soul living in the world, and following the
   common life of good Christians there, if she will faithfully correspond
   to the internal light and tracts afforded her by God's Spirit, may as
   securely, yea, and sometimes more speedily, arrive to the top of the
   mountain of vision than the most learned doctors, the most profoundly
   wise men, yea, the most abstracted confined hermits.

   5. Yea, both history and fresher experience do assure us that in these
   latter times God hath as freely (and perhaps more commonly)
   communicated the divine lights and graces proper to a contemplative
   life to simple women, endowed with lesser and more contemptible gifts
   of judgment, but yet enriched with stronger wills and more fervent
   affections to Him than the ablest men. And the reason hereof we may
   judge to be, partly because God thereby should, as is most due, reap
   all the glory of His most free graces, which if they did usually attend
   our natural endowments would be challenged as due to our own abilities
   and endeavours; and partly also, because as substantial holiness, so
   the perfection of it, which is contemplation, consists far more
   principally in the operation of the will than of the understanding (as
   shall be demonstrated in due place). And since women do far more
   abound, and are far more constant and fixed in affections and other
   operations of the will than men (though inferior in those of the
   understanding), no marvel if God doth oft find them fitter subjects for
   His graces than men.

   6. And for this reason it is (besides that women are less encumbered
   with solicitous businesses abroad, their secular employments being
   chiefly domestical within their own walls) that they do far more
   frequently repair to the churches, more assiduously perform their
   devotions both there and at home, and reap the blessings of the
   sacraments more plentifully (upon which grounds the Church calls them
   the devout sex); insomuch as a very spiritual and experienced author
   did not doubt to pronounce that (according to his best judgment, which
   was grounded on more than only outward appearances) for one man near
   ten women went to heaven. Notwithstanding true it is that the
   contemplations of men are more noble, sublime, and more exalted in
   spirit; that is, less partaking of sensible effects, as raptures,
   ecstasies, or imaginative representations, as likewise melting
   tendernesses of affection, than those of women.

   7. Now though the true and immediate motive of the writing of these
   spiritual instructions was the directing of certain devout religious
   souls in the way of contemplation, to the aspiring whereto their
   profession did oblige them--and for this reason most of the said
   instructions are intended to be most proper for such--yet being a
   debtor to all well-minded souls whatsoever that desire to tread in the
   said internal ways, I will here briefly show how they also may make use
   of my writings for the same end, from thence selecting such special
   directions as may also as well belong to them, and passing over those
   that are more peculiarly proper to souls in a religious state.

   8. In the world, therefore, there are two sorts of persons that do, or
   may, aspire unto contemplation or perfection in prayer, to wit: 1.
   Ecclesiastics; 2. Lay persons.

   9. First, as for ecclesiastics (I mean especially priests, to which all
   other inferior orders do tend), they not only may, but ought seriously
   to aspire thereunto, yea, perhaps more than simple religious; for their
   most sublime, and by all ancient saints deemed so formidable an office
   (by which they are empowered and obliged, with immaculate sacrifices
   and fervent prayers, to be daily intercessors with God for the whole
   Church), presupposeth them to have already attained to a good
   recollectedness in prayer. And if, moreover, they have a charge of
   souls, they will need a far greater stability therein, that their
   various employments may be performed purely for and in God, and not
   break their union with Him. Moreover, by their profession their
   obligations come near to the vows of religious persons, for: 1. They
   owe an obedience to superiors, though not in every ordinary action. 2.
   They profess the same chastity. 3. They ought to have little more
   propriety in their goods, for whatsoever is beyond their moderate
   necessity and obligation of hospitable charity, they can little more
   dispose of without wrong to the poor, &c, than religious. 4. Though
   their employments require from them more conversation with others than
   the state of religious does, yet they are as well obliged to disengage
   their affections from all love or solicitude about riches, &c., as the
   others are, and in like manner to free themselves from all distractive
   employments not belonging necessarily to their calling.

   l0. And upon these grounds it was, that in the ancient and best times
   of the Church, scarce any durst presume to undertake so high and
   perfect a calling as the charge of souls is, till after many years
   first spent in a kind of religious abstraction of life, solitude,
   silence, great mortification, and assiduous prayer, &c. Witness St.
   Basil, St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Gregory Nyssen, St. Chrysostom, St.
   Augustine, St. John Damascene, &c. And yet after they had done all
   this, it is a wonder with what unwillingness and fear they suffered
   themselves to be forced to accept of such a charge; what excuses,
   prayers, flights into the deserts to avoid it! And when they were
   compelled by God or men thereto, they were far from thinking themselves
   disobliged from a continuation of their contemplative exercises of
   abstraction, mortification, and prayer, &c. But, on the contrary, they
   stole time even from their necessary refections and sleep to employ in
   their recollections, as knowing that nothing they could do would be
   acceptable to God further than it proceeded in virtue of grace obtained
   by prayer.

   11. But the best proof and example of the obligations of an
   ecclesiastical person is our blessed Saviour Himself, who, though by
   virtue of the hypostatical union He was replenished with all manner of
   graces without measure, and therefore had no need at all, as for
   Himself, to pray for more, yet to show an example most necessary to us,
   He took not on Him the employment of converting others till He had
   spent the former thirty years of His life in solitude, silence, and all
   the most holy internal exercises at home, where He lived unobserved and
   unknown unto the world. And during all the time of His most laborious
   execution of His prophetical office, besides much prayer exercised
   openly before others, the gospel expressly says that His custom was at
   night to retire Himself with His disciples to prayer; yea, and
   whensoever any great work was to be done, as before the mission of the
   disciples and apostles, that He spent whole nights alone in prayer. Add
   hereunto that He utterly refused to meddle in secular affairs or
   controversies, He frequented the deserts, &c.

   12. So that an ecclesiastical person, both for his own sake and out of
   a tender love for his flock, ought to think himself more obliged than
   before to the practice of all internal contemplative exercises, and
   above all others, of pure spiritual prayer, which alone will sanctify
   and make successful both to himself and others all other actions
   belonging to his profession. And hence it is that St. Florentius, an
   ancient holy bishop, first of Utrecht and afterwards of Muenster, when
   he was reprehended by some for spending so much time in prayer, as if
   thereby he was hindered from a more perfect discharge of his episcopal
   function, returned them an answer very becoming a perfect illuminated
   bishop, saying, Quid? Vobis insanire videor, si cum multas oves habeam,
   multum orem? that is, What, do you account me mad, because, having so
   many sheep under my charge, I bestow so much time in prayer?' implying
   that it was only by prayer that he could hope for enablement to perform
   his episcopal duty, and for a blessing after the performance of it.

   13. Such is the duty and such the obligations of ecclesiastical
   persons. But if there be any conscious to themselves of neglect in this
   matter, and desirous to repair past omissions by future diligence, they
   may, if they think good, make use of these simple instructions, which
   generally in the substance are proper enough for them, if they will
   only separate certain circumstances and respects in them which are
   peculiar to religious.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S:S: 1, 2. How a secular person may make use of these instructions,
   some of which do equally belong to such an one as well as to religious.

   S: 3. What benefit such an one may also reap from instructions here
   peculiarly belonging to religious.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Such a soul needs not to apprehend want, if,
   consecrating herself to God, she shall relinquish worldly solicitudes.

   1. In the next place, as concerning a secular person not in holy
   orders, that lives a common life in the world, of what sex or condition
   soever (for with God there is no difference or acceptation of persons),
   to whom the Divine Spirit shall have given an effectual call to seek
   God in these internal ways of contemplation, yet so as that they do not
   find themselves obliged to forsake a secular profession and to embrace
   a religious life (of which state, the person perhaps being married or
   otherwise hindered, is not capable, or, however, finds no inclination
   thereto), such a soul may make benefit also of these instructions,
   though purposely written for religious, inasmuch as many of them do
   generally belong to all persons tending to perfection; and those that
   seem more peculiar to religious, yet with some qualifications and
   applications (such as ordinary discretion will teach), these
   instructions also may afford unto them some good help and useful
   benefit. And for that purpose they may do well to take into their
   consideration, and apply unto their own advantage in practice, these
   following advises:

   2. A devout soul, therefore, being inspired by God to such a course,
   and living in the world, ought to conceive herself obliged as truly and
   as properly (though not altogether equally) as any of a religious
   profession to the practice of these substantial and essential duties
   and instructions following, viz.: 1. A strong resolution,
   notwithstanding any contradictions and difficulties, to pursue, by the
   divine assistance, the ways tending to contemplation. 2. An equal care
   to observe, and faithfully to execute, all divine inspirations, and to
   dispose herself likewise (as is here taught) for the better receiving
   and discerning of them. 3. The practice both of external and internal
   mortifications (I mean those which through the divine providence are
   sent her, or do belong to her present state and condition of life. And
   as for voluntary mortifications, she is likewise to behave herself
   according to the following directions). 4. The exercise of internal
   prayer, according to the several degrees of it. In these general duties
   there is little or no difference between the obligation of religious
   from that of secular persons.

   3. But whereas, in the next place, there are in this book many
   instructions that seem peculiar to souls of a religious profession;
   such I mean as are grounded upon and referred unto a life abstracted
   from the world, confined unto solitude, and there limited with a strict
   enclosure of special laws, constitutions, observances, &c.; even in
   these also, a secular devout person tending to contemplation, may think
   himself in some proportion and degree concerned and interested; and
   from them he may reap much benefit, applying to his own use so much of
   the spirit of religion as discretion will show to be fruitful to him.
   Now, for a better application of this advice, I will exemplify certain
   peculiar duties of a religious life, and therein show in what sort a
   secular person may do well, yea, and in some proportion is obliged, to
   imitate them.

   4. First, therefore, such a soul, though she be not obliged really and
   personally to withdraw herself from worldly conversation, and to retire
   herself into a solitude as strict as that of religion, yet so much
   solitude and silence she must needs allow herself daily, as may be
   necessary for a due practice of internal prayer. Neither must she
   engage herself in any businesses of solicitude and distraction that do
   not necessarily belong to her vocation; and even those also must she
   perform with as much internal quietness and recollectedness as may be,
   carefully avoiding all anxiety of mind, care of multiplying riches, &c.
   And as for vain conversations, complimental visits, feastings, &c., she
   must not think to permit unto herself such a free scope as others do
   and as formerly herself did. But she must set a greater value upon her
   precious time, as much whereof as she can borrow from the necessary
   employments of her calling ought to be spent upon the advancing of her
   spirit in the way of contemplation. And she indeed will find the great
   inconveniences that do attend vain conversations, as dissipation of
   thoughts, engagements in new unnecessary affairs, sensual friendships,
   &c., all which she ought carefully to prevent and avoid.

   5. Secondly, such a soul is by virtue of her new divine vocation
   obliged studiously to imitate especially the internal solitude
   belonging to a religious person, abstracting her spirit as much as may
   be both from all affection to outward things, as riches, pleasures,
   &c., and likewise from the images of creatures and worldly objects. For
   which purpose she is to perform all the duties of her external vocation
   in order to God, and in subordination to her principal design, which is
   the perfectionating of her spirit in the divine love. She is therefore
   not to account herself as absolute mistress of the riches that God had
   given her, but only as His steward to manage them so as may be most to
   His glory. So that in the midst of them, she ought to exercise true
   poverty of spirit, renouncing all propriety joined with affection to
   them, so as not to be disquieted if God should take them from her, and
   making no more use of them for her own sensual contentment or for show
   in the world than shall in true discretion be necessary. This internal
   solitude, introversion, and nakedness of spirit she must increase, as
   much as may be, both in her affection to it and practice of it, so that
   it may become habitual to her. Because without it she will never be in
   a fit disposition to attend unto the divine inspirations, or to
   exercise the internal duties of prayer, &c., belonging to a state
   tending to contemplation.

   6. Thirdly, in conformity to religious obedience, she is to behave
   herself to all those in the world whom God hath set over her with a
   most profound submission of spirit, obeying them, or rather God in
   them, with all purity of intention. And moreover, she is, at the first
   especially, to put herself under the government of a spiritual
   director, if such an one be to be had, who is to teach her how she may
   discern the exercises of prayer and mortification proper for her. And
   in the choice of such an one she is to use the utmost of her prudence,
   recommending withal an affair of such importance in her prayers to God,
   that He would provide her one of sufficient abilities and virtue, and
   especially one that is experienced in those internal ways much exalted
   above the ordinary exercises of prayer commonly taught and practised.
   And when God has found out such an one for her, she is with all
   sincerity and humility to obey him, yet without prejudice to the duty
   which she principally owes to her divine internal Master, as hath been
   taught in the foregoing section, the doctrine and practice whereof doth
   as well belong to her as to any religious person.

   7. Fourthly, although such a soul be not by any vow or otherwise
   obliged to any rule, or restrained by any constitutions or regular
   observances, notwithstanding she is to reduce the whole course of her
   actions and behaviour to a certain order, regularity, and uniformity,
   observing in her retirements, reading, praying, as also her refection,
   sleep, &c., an orderly practice both for times and manner, according as
   prudence and her spiritual guide shall ordain. This order and
   uniformity observed discreetly (yet without any nice scrupulosity), is
   very requisite in an internal course; for otherwise, a soul being left
   at large will be unstable and uncertain in her most necessary duties.

   8. It will not be necessary to exemplify in any more particulars; for
   the same reflections and the like applications may a soul make from any
   other instructions and duties peculiarly designed for religious
   persons. Besides, if she pursue diligently and constantly her internal
   prayer, God will not be wanting to afford her sufficient internal
   light, and likewise strong impulses and spiritual force to follow such
   light; to which if she faithfully correspond, she will find that since
   God has not given her a vocation to religion, yet He has not deprived
   her of the means of enjoying in the world in a sufficient manner the
   principal advantages of a religious state (except the solemn vows
   themselves), yea, in this case she may, not altogether unprofitably,
   think that it was for her own particular good that God did not give her
   an opportunity to enter into religion.

   9. And whereas it was required of such souls that they should quit all
   solicitudes about temporal riches, let them not fear any great
   inconveniences by complying with this duty. For as the author of the
   Cloud of Unknowing observes, and confidently professeth, those whom God
   effectually calls from secular solicitudes to an internal abstracted
   life, may more than any others be confidently secure of His divine
   providence and special care over them and all that belong unto them,
   forasmuch as concerns a sufficient and contentful subsistence in this
   life. For though He should have called them into a wilderness, where no
   means of procuring corporal sustenance did appear, or if in the midst
   of a city He should call any one to lead an abstracted solitary life
   there, they are obliged to follow such a call, and may most securely do
   it, referring all care of their subsistence wholly to His divine
   providence, who infallibly, some way or other, either by ordinary or
   extraordinary means, will not be wanting to provide convenient
   maintenance for them, which, if it should happen to be with some
   scarcity, He will abundantly recompense that with feasting their
   spirits with far more desirable internal and celestial delicacies. And
   examples of God's wonderful care over such peculiar servants of His are
   plentifully afforded us in ecclesiastical history, both ancient and
   modern. So that to the end of the world that will appear to be a most
   approved truth, which the Psalmist so long since delivered. Divites
   equerunt, et esurierunt: inquirentes autem Dominum non minuentur omni
   bono, that is: the rich in the world have been brought to want and
   hunger; but such as truly seek our Lord shall not be unprovided of any
   kind of good things.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. Of a religious state.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5. How we are to understand and interpret, the great
   commendations and privileges given to a religious state by [41]St.
   Bernard, &c.

   S:S: 6, 7. A religious state is secure and happy, but yet to those only
   that are careful to reform and purify their interior.

   1. Hereafter the instructions following are most especially to be
   directed to souls living in a religious profession (I intend especially
   such an one as is, according to the rule of St. Benedict, St. Bruno,
   &c.,) the most proper school of contemplation. A state of life
   certainly the most happy, quiet, and secure (if rightly undertaken and
   accordingly pursued), of any in God's Church. Concerning which my
   purpose is in this place to treat, not in its whole latitude (for a
   great volume would scarce suffice for such a discourse), but only with
   relation to the end designed in it, to wit, contemplation, intending
   seriously to press the obligation that religious persons have to aspire
   thereto, and the great advantages afforded therein for that purpose.

   2. But as St. Augustine worthily finds fault with those that do too
   indiscreetly and excessively commend to secular persons living in the
   world, either a monastical or a clerical profession; yea, and to
   heretics or infidels, even the Church itself; taking notice only of the
   perfections of those who in each of these are the most perfect, and
   forgetting or purposely omitting to forewarn men that they are not to
   be scandalised if they meet with some also who have no part in those
   commendations and felicities; by which it comes to pass that, finding
   what they did not expect, they fall back, not only to a disesteem, but
   also to a hatred of that which was so excessively and unwarily
   commended to them: upon the same grounds I think myself obliged to
   forewarn my readers that they do not too inconsiderately read and
   attend to all that they find written in commendations of a religious
   state, lest being too much taken with what they read, imagining the
   outward habit and interior virtues inseparable companions, and
   thereupon, having undertaken such a profession, and there missing in
   some what they in all expected, they be in danger either of living
   discontented lives, or perhaps even of finding themselves in a worse
   estate for their souls (because improper for them and unproportionable
   to their forces), than if they had continued in the world.

   3. Moreover, devout souls when they read modern spiritual authors
   treating of a religious state, dilating much upon the great blessings
   attending it, and with choice passages out of the ancient holy Fathers,
   pleasing histories, and elegant characters describing: 1. the nobleness
   and excellency of that life, wherein honours, pleasure, empire, and
   whatsoever the world can tempt mankind withal, are trampled under foot;
   2. the great security that it affords unto souls, which thereby are
   exempted from the devil's snares, living continually in the presence,
   favour, and familiarity with God; 3. the inexpressible sweetness and
   consolations enjoyed by His conversation, &c.;--in reading such
   passages, I say, just and reasonable it is that well-meaning souls
   should thereby be encouraged to aspire to such eminent blessings truly
   attributed to the same state, if God by His divine providence shall
   give them a free way thereto. But yet they are withal to know that such
   privileges do not belong to the exterior profession of the said state;
   for the more noble and excellent it is when the obligations thereof are
   duly corresponded with, the more do they abase themselves that live
   negligently and unworthily in it. And though it be a great step to a
   happy security to be secluded from the world's temptations, yet unless
   in religion we fly from ourselves also, we will find but danger enough.
   And lastly, true it is that the consolations that attend an assiduous
   conversation with God in prayer are most desirable and admirable; but
   they are withal purely spiritual, and not to be expected till souls
   have lost the taste of sensual pleasures and ease.

   4. Hereupon it is observable how prudently, and withal how ingenuously,
   our holy patriarch [42]St. Benedict deals with souls newly coming to a
   religious conversion. He commands that his [43]Rule be several times
   read to them, that so they may be sufficiently informed what God and
   superiors expect from them through the whole following course of their
   lives. In the which [44]Rule, though the prologue does with winning
   promises invite the readers to a participation of the inestimable
   blessings of a religious life, yet (in the 58th chapter, where is set
   down the discipline and order to be observed in the admission and
   profession of new-comers) he ordains that such shall not without great
   difficulty be admitted; yea, that they shall be treated rudely, with
   contempt and opprobrious usage; all manner of unpleasant, harsh, and
   rough things must be inculcated to them, &c. And all this is done to
   the end to try whether they bring with them that courageous resolution
   and patience, by which alone the incomparable blessings of a religious
   state are to be purchased.

   5. In the same sense, and with the same conditions, we are to
   understand the nine privileges that [45]St. Bernard affirms are to be
   found in a religious state. For surely it was far from his meaning to
   apply the said privileges to any but industrious souls, whose principal
   care is to purify themselves interiorly, and not at all to tepid
   persons that neglect to correspond to their profession. For who but the
   industrious and vigilant: 1. do live more purely than men do in the
   world; 2. or fall more seldom; 3. or rise more speedily; 4. or walk
   more warily; 5. or rest more securely; 6. or are visited by God more
   frequently; 7. or die more confidently; 8. or pass their purgatory more
   speedily; 9. or are rewarded in heaven more abundantly? On the
   contrary, it is justly to be feared, yea, too certain it is, that
   habitually tepid and negligent souls in religion are in a far worse
   state, more immortified, more cold in devotion, more estranged from God
   every day than others, considering that, in the midst of the greatest
   advantages and helps to fervour and purity, they will continue their
   negligence; and therefore they must expect, for their obstinate
   ingratitude and for their offending against so great light, that they
   shall be more severely punished by Almighty God than others the like
   that live in the world.

   6. How ridiculous, therefore, would it be for any to boast and say, God
   be thanked, I have been so many years a professed religious person, in
   an Order that hath produced so many thousand saints; that hath had so
   many popes; that received so many emperors, kings, queens, and princes;
   that hath so flourished with riches, learning, piety, &c. As if those
   good successes to some were sufficient security to all, so that they
   should need no more than only to be of such an Order.

   7. For the undeceiving, therefore, of such as are strangers to a
   religious profession, and for the admonishing and encouraging of those
   that have already embraced it to comply with the obligations of it,
   that so they may enjoy all the incomparable privileges and perfections
   then indeed belonging to it--I will employ the following discourse,
   principally demonstrating that the principal thing to be intended in a
   religious profession is the incessant purifying of the interior, which
   is an attempt the most glorious, but withal the most difficult and most
   destructive to sensual ease and contentment of all other. This ought to
   be the motive of those that enter into it, and the principal, yea,
   almost the sole, employment of those that live in it. Whereto I will
   add a few instructions more especially belonging to superiors,
   officers, private religious, and novices respectively.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Motives inducing to religion to be examined. False
   security of tepid religious persons. Of false and true motives.

   S: 6. An habitual state of introversion and recollectedness is the
   principal end of a religious life; wherein such recollectedness
   consists.

   S:S: 7, 8. Perfection in prayer is the perfection of a religious state.

   S:S: 9, 10, 11. The wonderful sublimity of prayer to which the ancient
   hermits attained.

   S: 12. Advantages thereto enjoyed by them beyond these times.

   S:S: 13, 14, 15, 16. That [46]St. Benedict chiefly intended by his rule
   to bring his disciples to purity of prayer.

   S:S: 17, 18, 19. False glosses and interpretations of [47]St.
   Benedict's rule in these days.

   S:S: 20, 21. [48]St. Bernard's excellent declaration of the design of
   St. Benedict's rule.

   S:S: 22, 23. That the only sure way of introducing reforms into
   contemplative orders is by the teaching of true contemplative prayer,
   and not multiplying of external forms and austerities.

   1. It concerns a soul very much to examine well the motives inducing
   her to enter into a religious state; for if they be not according to
   God, it is to be feared she will not find all the profit and
   satisfaction that she promises to herself. For: 1. If such a profession
   be undertaken merely out of worldly respects, as to gain a state of
   subsistence more secure (and perhaps more plentiful); 2. or to avoid
   suits, debates, or worldly dangers, &c. (unless such incommodities have
   given only occasion to a soul to reflect on the vanities and miseries
   of the world, and from thence to consider and love spiritual and
   celestial good things, which are permanent and without bitterness); 3.
   or if such a state be undertaken out of a general good desire of saving
   one's soul according to the fashion of ordinary good Christians, and no
   more, but without a special determinate resolution to labour after
   perfection in the divine love, either because such souls know nothing
   of it, or, if they do, have not the courage and will to attempt it, but
   resolve to content themselves with being freed from worldly temptations
   and dangers, and with a moderate care to practise the external
   observances of religion, yet without sufficient purity of intention or
   a consideration of the proper end of a religious contemplative life,
   &c. I cannot tell whether persons living and dying in religion, without
   further designs of purifying their souls, shall find so great cause to
   rejoice for the choice they have made; since their beginning and
   continuing is indeed no better than a stable course of most dangerous
   tepidity.

   2. However, as for souls that for external respects have embraced a
   religious life, let them not therefore in a desperate humour conclude
   that no good can come to them by it so unworthily undertaken; but
   rather hope that by a special providence of God they were, even against
   their own intentions and wills, brought into a course of life to which,
   if, however, afterward they will duly correspond, it will prove an
   infinite blessing unto them. For such ofttimes have proved great
   saints, after that God gave them light to see their perverse intentions
   and grace to rectify them, by which means they, beginning in the flesh,
   have ended in the spirit.

   3. And as for the third sort of tepid persons, it much concerns them,
   at least after their solemn profession, to search well into their
   souls, and there rectify what they find amiss, taking great heed how
   they rely upon external observances, obediences or austerities, the
   which, though they be necessarily to be performed, yet cannot, without
   great danger and harm, be rested in, but must needs be directed to a
   further and nobler end, to wit, the advancement of the spirit.

   4. Neither let them conclude the security of their condition and good
   disposition of soul from a certain composedness and quietness of
   nature, the which, unless it be caused by internal mortification and
   prayer, is but mere self-love. And much less let them rely upon the
   esteem and good opinion that others may have of them, nor likewise on
   their own abilities to discourse of spiritual matters and give
   directions to others; since no natural light nor acquired learning or
   study can be sufficient to enable any one to tread in contemplative
   ways without the serious practice of recollected prayer. A sufficient
   proof whereof we see in Thaulerus, who was able to make an excellent
   sermon of perfection, but not to direct himself in the way to it, till
   God sent him a poor ignorant layman for his instructor.

   5. What is it, therefore, that a soul truly called by God to enter into
   religion looks for? Surely not corporal labours; not the use of the
   sacraments; nor hearing of sermons, &c. For all these she might have
   enjoyed perhaps more plentifully in the world. It is, therefore, only
   the union of the spirit with God by recollected, constant prayer; to
   the attaining which divine end all things practised in religion do
   dispose, and to which alone so great impediments are found in the
   world.

   6. The best general proof, therefore, of a good call to religion is a
   love to prayer, either vocal or mental. For if at first it be only to
   vocal prayer, by reason that the soul is ignorant of the efficacy and
   excellency of internal contemplative prayer, or perhaps has received
   some prejudices against it; yet if she observe solitude carefully, and
   with attention and fervour practise vocal prayer, she will in time,
   either by a divine light perceive the necessity of joining mental
   prayer to her vocal, or be enabled to practise her vocal prayer
   mentally, which is a sublime perfection.

   It is a state, therefore, of recollectedness and introversion that
   every one entering into religion is to aspire unto, which consists in
   an habitual disposition of soul, whereby she transcends all creatures
   and their images, which thereby come to have little or no dominion over
   her, so that she remains apt for immediate cooeperation with God,
   receiving His inspirations, and by a return, and, as it were, a reflux,
   tending to Him and operating to His glory. It is called
   recollectedness, because the soul in such a state gathers her thoughts,
   naturally dispersed and fixed with multiplicity on creatures, and
   unites them upon God. And it is called introversion, both because the
   spirit and those things which concern it, being the only object that a
   devout soul considers and values, she turns all her solicitudes inwards
   to observe defects, wants, or inordinations there, to the end she may
   remedy, supply, and correct them; and likewise, because the proper
   seat, the throne and kingdom where God by His Holy Spirit dwells and
   reigns, is the purest summit of man's spirit. There it is that the soul
   most perfectly enjoys and contemplates God, though everywhere, as in
   regard of Himself, equally present, yet in regard of the communication
   of His perfections present there, after a far more noble manner than in
   any part of the world besides, inasmuch as He communicates to the
   spirit of man as much of His infinite perfections as any creature is
   capable of, being not only simple Being, as He is to inanimate bodies;
   or Life, as to living creatures; or Perception, as to sensitive; or
   Knowledge, as to other ordinary rational souls: but with and besides
   all these, He is a divine light, purity, and happiness, by
   communicating the supernatural graces of His Holy Spirit to the spirits
   of His servants. Hence it is that our Saviour says (Regnum Dei intra
   vos est), The kingdom of God is within you;' and therefore it is that
   religious, solitary, and abstracted souls do endeavour to turn all
   their thoughts inward, raising them to (apicem spiritus) the pure top
   of the spirit (far above all sensible phantasms or imaginative
   discoursings, or grosser affections), where God is most perfectly seen
   and most comfortably enjoyed.

   7. Now the actual practice of this introversion consists principally,
   if not only, in the exercise of pure internal spiritual prayer; the
   perfection of which, therefore, ought to be the chief aim to which a
   religious contemplative soul is obliged to aspire. So that surely it is
   a great mistake to think that the spirit of St. Benedict's Order and
   [49]Rule consists in a public, orderly, protracted, solemn singing of
   the Divine Office, which may be full as well--yea, and for the external
   is with more advantage--performed by secular ecclesiastics in cathedral
   churches; a motive to the introducing of which pompous solemnity might
   be, that it is full of edification to others to see and hear a
   conspiring of many singers and voices (and it is to be supposed of
   hearts too) to the praising of God. But it is not for edification of
   others that a monastical state was instituted or ought to be
   undertaken. Religious souls truly monastical fly the sight of the
   world, entering into deserts and solitudes to spend their lives alone
   in penance and recollection, and to purify their own souls, not to give
   example or instruction to others. Such solitudes are or ought to be
   sought by them, thereby to dispose themselves for another far more
   profitable internal solitude, in which, creatures being banished, the
   only conversation is between God and the soul herself in the depth of
   the spirit, as if besides them two no other thing were existent.

   8. To gain this happy state a devout soul enters into religion, where
   all imaginable advantages are to be found for this end--at least
   anciently they were so, and still ought to be. But yet, though all
   religious persons ought to aspire to the perfection of this state, it
   is really gained by very few in these times; for some, through
   ignorance or misinstruction by teachers that know no deeper nor a more
   perfect introversion than into the internal senses or imagination: and
   others, through negligence or else by reason of a voluntary pouring
   forth their affections and thoughts upon vanities, useless studies, or
   other sensual entertainments, are never able perfectly to enter into
   their spirits and to find God there.

   9. But it is wonderful to read of that depth of recollectedness and
   most profound introversion to which some ancient solitary religious
   persons by long exercise of spiritual prayer have come; insomuch as
   they have been so absorbed and even drowned in a deep contemplation of
   God, that they have not seen what their eyes looked on, nor felt what
   otherwise would grievously hurt them. Yea, to so habitual a state of
   attending only to God in their spirit did some of them attain, that
   they could not, though they had a mind thereto, ofttimes fix their
   thoughts upon any other object but God, their internal senses
   (according as themselves have described it) having been, in an
   inexpressible manner, drawn into their spirit, and therein so swallowed
   up as to lose in a sort all other use,--a most happy state, in which
   the devil cannot so much as fix a seducing temptation or image in their
   minds to distract them from God; but on the contrary, if he should
   attempt it, that would be an occasion to plunge them deeper and more
   intimately into God.

   10. And this was the effect of pure, spiritual, contemplative prayer;
   which was not only practised by the holy ancient hermits, &c., in the
   most sublime perfection, but the exercise thereof was their chief, most
   proper, and almost continual employment, insomuch as the perfection
   thereof was by them accounted the perfection of their state. A larger
   proof whereof shall be reserved till we come to speak of prayer. For
   the present, therefore, I will content myself with a testimony or two
   related by Cassian, out of the mouths of the two most sublime
   contemplatives. Thus, therefore, speaks one of them (in the ninth
   conference, chap. 7), Finis monachi et totius perfectionis culmen in
   orationis consummatione consistit, that is: The end of a monastical
   profession and the supreme degree of all perfection consists in the
   perfection of prayer. And (in the tenth conference, chap. 7) another
   saith: Hic finis totius perfectionis est, ut eo usque extenuata mens ab
   omni situ carnali ad spiritualia quotidie sublimetur, donec omnis ejus
   conversatio, omnisque volutatio cordis, una et jugis efficiatur oratio,
   that is: This is the end of all perfection, that the mind becomes so
   purified from all carnal defilement, that it may be raised up daily to
   spiritual things, till its whole employment and every motion of the
   heart may become one uninterrupted prayer.

   11. Now what a kind of prayer this was that they aspired to, how
   sublime in spirit (though ofttimes joined with their vocal prayers),
   may appear from that description given of it by a holy hermit in these
   words (in the tenth conference, chap. 20): Ita ad illam orationis
   purissimam pervenit qualitatem, quae non solum nullam deitatis effigiem
   in sua supplicatione miscebit, sed nec ullam quidem in se memoriam
   dicti cujusdam, vel facti speciem seu formam characteris admittet, that
   is: Thus by much practice the soul will arrive to that most sublime
   purity of prayer, wherein no image at all of the Divinity is mingled,
   and which will not admit the least memory, nor a character or
   representation of anything either spoken or done. The strange subtlety
   and spirituality of which prayer considered, there is applied unto it
   that saying of St. Anthony (in the ninth conference, chap. 31): Non est
   perfecta oratio, in qua se monachus, vel hoc ipsum quod orat,
   intelligit, that is: That prayer is not a perfect one, unless the
   religious person that exercises it, be not able to give an account of
   his own thoughts that passed in it (or does not perceive that he
   prays).

   12. What great advantages the ancient hermits and other religious
   persons enjoyed for the more certain and more speedy attaining to this
   internal purity of prayer and wonderful cleanness of spirit (the end of
   their profession), how much more able their bodily complexions were to
   support that most rigorous solitude, those long-continued attentions of
   mind, &c.; and how much more efficacious hereto were their manual
   labours beyond our employments in study; and lastly, how by such like
   means they, with the only exercise of vocal prayer, attained to perfect
   contemplation, shall be shown more fully when we come to the last
   treatise concerning internal prayer.

   13. In this place I will content myself with showing that, by the
   [50]Rule of our holy Father [51]St. Benedict, all his disciples are
   obliged to propose to themselves no other end of their religious
   profession, but only such purity both of soul and the operations of it
   in spiritual prayer; so that how exact soever they be in outward
   observances, unless they be referred unto, and efficacious also for the
   producing of, this internal purity in some reasonable measure, they
   shall not be esteemed by God to have complied with their vocation and
   profession.

   14. To this purpose we may observe that it is from those ancient holy
   hermits and religious that our holy Father borrowed the greatest part
   of his [52]Rule and ordinances, which, in the conclusion, he professes
   to be meant only by him as a disposition whereby we may be enabled to
   imitate them in their most perfect internal practices. It is from them
   that he borrows the phrase of (oratio pura) pure prayer (in the 20th
   chap.). The exercise whereof, besides the reciting of the office, he
   appointed daily, as appears both by the same chapter of the [53]Rule
   and also by the story related by St. Gregory, of one of his monks whom
   the devil in the shape of a blackamore, tempted out of the community in
   the time of such recollections. By which may be perceived the great
   fruit and efficacy of such prayer; for the devil could be contented he
   should be present at the office, because during that exercise he could
   more easily distract his mind; but knowing the force of internal
   prayer, how recollective it is, and what light it affords to discover
   the inward defects of the soul, and to obtain grace to correct them,
   his principal aim was to withdraw him from so profitable an exercise.
   And, therefore, to countermine the devil's malice, our holy Father
   thought it worth a journey expressly to cure the infirmity and prevent
   the danger of one of his seduced monks.

   15. For this end it is that our holy Father, in the 58th chap., ordains
   superiors in the examination of the spirits and dispositions of
   new-comers, that they should most especially have an eye to this most
   necessary condition (Si deum vere quaerit): If he be such an one as
   truly seeks God. And more particularly (Si solicitus est ad opus Dei):
   If he have a solicitous care duly to perform the work of God, which he
   interprets to be prayer; and this so principal a work that he ordains
   that (Nihil operi Dei praeponatur) Nothing must be preferred before it.

   16. For the advancing of this prayer, that it may become such as is
   suitable to a contemplative state, all other exterior observances are
   appointed. 1. By the twelve degrees of humility, by frequent
   prostrations, acknowledging of secret imperfections, &c., pride,
   self-love, and all other our corrupt affections, hindering our union in
   spirit with God, are subdued and expelled, and (as our holy Father says
   at the end of the last degree) that perfect charity which most
   immediately unites the soul to God is produced in the soul. 2. By
   perfect obedience, self-judgment and self-will are abated. 3. By
   fastings, watchings, and other austerities, sensuality is mortified. 4.
   By religious poverty, all distracting cares about temporal things are
   expelled. 5. And for the gaining of an habitual state of
   recollectedness and introversion, so great silence and solitude were so
   rigorously enjoined and practised, all objects of sensual affections
   removed, all conversation with the world, all relating or hearkening to
   news severely prohibited. All this surely for no other end but that
   souls might be brought to a fit disposition to imitate those solitary
   and devout saints (proposed by our holy Father for our examples), in
   their continual conversation with God, attending to His divine
   inspirations, and uninterrupted union of spirit with Him by pure
   spiritual contemplation.

   17. Therefore, though our holy lawgiver doth not in his [54]Rule give
   his disciples any special instructions for ordering their interior
   spiritual prayer (touching such matters referring them to the
   inspiration of the divine Spirit, as himself saith; as likewise to the
   advices of the ancient fathers and hermits professing contemplation),
   yet it is evident that His principal design was to dispose His
   disciples by His ordinances to aspire and attain to such internal
   perfection, without which the external observances would be of no
   value, but rather (being finally rested in without further application
   to the spirit) empty hypocritical formalities. And more particularly as
   touching the Conferences of the Fathers (written by Cassian, and
   expressly recommended to us by our holy Father), we reasonably may and
   ought to judge that his intention was, we should in a special manner
   make use of the instructions and examples there delivered by prudent,
   holy, and experienced contemplatives, as a rule and pattern to which we
   should conform ourselves, principally in our internal exercises, as
   being much more useful and proper for as than any instructions about
   such matters to be found in the writings of others, far more learned
   holy fathers of the Church, who generally direct their speeches to such
   as lead common lives in the world.

   18. This obligation being so manifest and unquestionable, how can those
   new interpreters of our holy [55]Rule be excused, that extend the
   profession of a religious person no further than to the performance of
   exterior obediences and observances literally expressed in the
   [56]Rule, or signified by the express commands of superiors? Surely
   they forget that it is to God only that we make our vows, and not to
   man, but only as His substitute, and as appointed by Him to take care
   of the purifying of our souls. For the destroying, therefore, of so
   unreasonable an interpretation (yet too likely to be embraced by the
   tepid spirits of this age), it will suffice only to look upon the form
   of a religious profession instituted by our holy father in the 58th
   chapter, in these words, Suscipiendus autem, in oratorio, &c., that is,
   Let him that is to be received to a religious profession promise in the
   presence of the whole community assembled in the church, before God and
   His saints: 1. a constant stability in that state; 2. a conversion of
   his manners; and 3. obedience. Now of the three things so solemnly and
   with such affrighting circumstances vowed, conversion of manners can
   signify no other thing but internal purity of the soul; obedience,
   indeed, seems to regard the outward observances of the rules, yet
   surely with an eye to the principal end of all external duties of all
   Christians, and much more of those that aspire to the perfection of
   divine love. And as for stability, it regards both these, adding to
   them a perseverance and a continual progress in both to the end.

   19. These things considered, if God so earnestly protested to the Jews,
   saying, My soul hates your new moons, your solemn feasts and sacrifices
   (which yet were observances ordained by Himself); and this, because
   those that practised them with all exactness rested in the outward
   actions, and neglected inward purity of the heart, typified by them;
   much more will God despise and hate an exact performance of regular
   observances commanded by man, when the practisers of them do not refer
   them to the only true end regarded by the Instituter, which was by them
   to dispose and fit souls to internal solitude, aptness to receive
   divine light and grace; and, lastly, to the practice of pure
   contemplative prayer, without which a religious state would be no
   better than a mere outward occupation or trade; and if only so
   considered, it is perhaps less perfect than one exercised in the world,
   by which much good commodity may be derived to others also.

   20. Again, when such condescending interpreters do further say that all
   our obligation by virtue of a religious profession is to be understood
   only (secundum regulam) according to the [57]Rule, we must know that
   this phrase (secundum regulam) is to be annexed to the vow of obedience
   only, importing that a religious superior hath not a vast unlimited
   authority, but confined to the [58]Rule; whereas, there are no limits
   prescribed to conversion of manners, to Christian holiness and
   perfection, in which we are obliged daily to make a further progress.
   To the which duty, as by becoming religious we have a greater
   obligation, so likewise have we a greater necessity. For though by
   entering into religion we do avoid many occasions and temptations to
   outward enormous sins, yet we can never be freed from our thoughts,
   which will pursue us wherever we are, and more impetuously and
   dangerously in solitude than in company, being indeed the greatest
   pleasure of man, whether they be good or bad. For in solitude the soul
   hath her whole free scope without interruption to pursue her thoughts.
   So that a religious person that can think himself not obliged, and that
   actually doth not restrain and order his thoughts, by diverting and
   fixing them on heavenly and divine objects, such an one, if, for want
   of opportunity, he guard himself from outward scandalous crimes, yet he
   will more and more deeply plunge himself in corrupt nature, contracting
   a greater obscurity and incapacity of divine grace daily; and such
   inward deordinations will become more dangerous and incurable than if
   he had lived in the world, where there are so frequent diversions. Now
   a poor and most ineffectual remedy against these will he find in an
   exact conformity to any external observances whatsoever, yea, perhaps
   they will serve to increase such ill habits of soul, by breeding pride
   and security in it.

   21. A much better and more profitable interpreter of our holy [59]Rule,
   therefore, is devout [60]St. Bernard, in many passages in his works,
   and particularly in those words of his in an epistle to William, an
   abbot of the same order: Attendite in regulam Dei, &c., that is, Be
   attentive to the rule of God. The kingdom of God is within you; that
   is, it consists not outwardly in the fashion of our clothes or manner
   of our corporal diet, but in the virtues of our inner man. But you will
   say: What? dost thou so enforce upon us spiritual duties as that thou
   condemnest a care of the external observances enjoined by the [61]Rule
   of St. Benedict? No, by no means. But my meaning is, that the former
   spiritual duties must necessarily and indispensably be done, and yet
   these latter must not be omitted. But otherwise, when it shall happen
   that one of these two must be omitted, in such case these are much
   rather to be omitted than those former. For by how much the spirit is
   more excellent and noble than the body, by so much are spiritual
   exercises more profitable than corporal.

   22. Neither will it avail the fore-mentioned interpreters to say that
   their meaning is not to prejudice the obligation of religious persons
   to internal duties, but only to show that such obligation is grounded
   on the divine law imposed on them as Christians, and not on an external
   law made by man and voluntarily undergone. For in opposition to this
   excuse, besides what hath been said concerning the making of our vows
   to God, and the express obligation therein to an internal conversion of
   manners, we are to know that, by virtue of our religious vows, we are
   obliged to a far greater perfection of internal purity than we were
   formerly as Christians, answerable to the greater helps and advantages
   thereto afforded in religion; and particularly we have an obligation to
   aspire to the perfection of internal contemplative prayer, the practice
   whereof is (at least) of extreme difficulty in an ordinary, distracted,
   solicitous secular state.

   23. And from what hath been said may be collected this most true and
   profitable observation, to wit, that whosoever would attempt the
   restoring of the true spirit of religion (which is contemplation),
   miserably decayed in these days, will labour in vain if he think to
   compass his holy design by multiplying of ceremonies, enlarging of
   offices, increasing of external austerities, rigorous regulating of
   diet and abstinences, &c. All which things will have little or no
   effect, unless the minds of religious persons be truly instructed in
   the doctrine of contemplative prayer, and obligation to attend and
   follow the internal guidance of God's Spirit, which is rather hindered
   than advanced by the excessive multiplication of outward observances.
   And for this reason [62]St. Benedict (who surely had a most perfect
   light and an equal zeal, at least, to advance the spirit of
   contemplation) was very moderate in these things, and, on the contrary,
   very severe in requiring the observation of silence, solitude, and
   abstraction of life, which do most directly and efficaciously beget an
   habitual introversion and recollectedness of spirit. The
   ineffectualness, therefore, of these new ways of reformation we see
   daily proofs of, by the short continuance of them. For minds that are
   not enlightened, nor enabled by the spirit of contemplative prayer
   suitable to their state to make a due use of such great austerities for
   the increasing of the said spirit, become in a short time, after that
   the first zeal (much caused by the novelty and reputation gained in the
   world) is cooled, to grow weary, not finding that inward satisfaction
   and profit which they expected, and so they return to their former
   tepidity and relaxation.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3. A religious person is not perfect by his profession.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7. Whether, and how far, ignorance of the true end of
   religion will excuse.

   S:S: 8, 9. The danger of those that knowing, will not pursue internal
   ways of recollection, which are the true end of a religious state; and
   much more of those that discountenance it.

   S:S: 10, 11, 12. Vain pretences of those that discountenance internal
   prayer, &c.

   S: 13. A Description of an external and an internal monk out of
   Hesychius.

   1. Our obligation, therefore, to tend to perfect internal purity and
   simplicity being so great and so indispensable, what account, think we,
   will some religious persons be able to give to Almighty God for their
   miserable deficiency in this so essential a condition?

   2. Religion is by all acknowledged for a state of perfection, not that
   by the mere taking a religious profession or habit a person is thereby
   more perfect than he was before, but because by renouncing those
   distractive impediments which are in the world he puts himself into a
   condition in which he not only may far more easily aspire to the
   perfection of divine love, but moreover, by assuming such a state, he
   obliges himself to employ all those advantages which he finds in
   religion, as means to approach nearer to this perfection daily, more
   than if he had continued in the world he either could or was obliged.
   Which if he do not, he will be so far from enjoying any privilege in
   God's sight by the perfection of his state, as that he will be
   accountable to God so much the more for his ingratitude and negligence
   in making use of such advantages and talents given him.

   3. St. Paulinus excellently illustrates this truth by this similitude.
   He compares the world to a dry, scorched, and barren wilderness, and
   celestial happiness to a most delicious paradise, divided from this
   desert by a deep and tempestuous river, which must necessarily be
   passed by swimming. The securest way to pass over this river is by
   quitting one's clothes; but few there are that have the courage to
   expose themselves to the injuries of the weather for a while, and
   therefore adventure over clothes and all; and of them, God knows, a
   world miscarry by the way. Some few others (such are religious
   persons), seeing this danger, take a good resolution to divest
   themselves of their clothes, and to make themselves lighter and nimbler
   by casting away all impediments, how dear soever to flesh and blood.
   But yet, this being done, it remains that they should labour, naked as
   they are, with swimming, to pass the river. But this they neglect to
   do, or take so little pains or strive so negligently against the waves
   and stream, that all they do comes to nothing, they are in as much
   danger and as far from paradise as they were before. And whereas they
   glorify themselves because they are naked; that will rather aggravate
   their folly and make their negligence far more culpable, in that,
   having so great an advantage, they would not take a little pains to do
   that for which they cast off their clothes.

   4. Now the impediments either much delaying or quite hindering many
   souls that live in religion, and are naturally apt enough for the
   exercises of a contemplative life, from complying with this most
   necessary obligation, are partly in the understanding and partly in the
   will. Concerning this latter, which is self-love, a settled affection
   to creatures, negligence, &c., much hath already been said and more
   will hereafter be added. But concerning the other impediment seated in
   the understanding, which is ignorance of the true way leading to that
   perfection which is the proper end of a religious contemplative life, I
   will here take into consideration whether and how far such ignorance
   may excuse a religious person that does not aspire to that perfection
   to which his state obliges him.

   5. For the clearing of this doubt we may observe that there may in this
   case be a twofold ignorance. 1. An ignorance in gross that there is any
   such obligation. 2. On supposition that a soul is informed that she
   hath such an obligation, an ignorance of the means and ways proper and
   necessary for the acquiring of this perfection, which in the present
   case are Mortification and (principally) internal Prayer.

   6. First, therefore, for the former sort of ignorance, it is so gross
   and even wilful that there can scarce be imagined any excuse or
   qualification for it. For what other thought can a soul have, quitting
   the world and all the pleasures and commodities therein, to embrace
   poverty, obedience, solitude, &c., but thereby to consecrate herself
   entirely to God, shown by the solemn circumstances of her admission and
   profession, the questions proposed to her, and her answers, her habit,
   tonsure, representation of a death and burial, solemn benedictions of
   her habit, and prayers of the community, &c. All that are witnesses and
   spectators of such an action do no otherwise understand it; and indeed,
   except it were so, what difference is there between a secular and
   religious state?

   7. But in the next place, touching the second sort of ignorance, to
   wit, of the ways most proper and efficacious to bring a religious soul
   to perfection. It is to be feared that such an ignorance will be but a
   small excuse, and that but to very few. For since both faith and
   experience teach us with what great defects, what inordinate
   affections, &c. we enter into religion, with an intention there to
   abate and mortify them; and since even natural reason and daily
   experience likewise show us that perfection of the soul cannot consist
   in external observances, which do not penetrate into the interior; yea,
   without prayer and purity of intention (to be had only by prayer), they
   do rather nourish self-love and self-esteem; since, thirdly, the same
   experience convinces us that such vocal prayers as we use and join to
   our other observances do not produce in us a sufficient purification of
   soul; no, nor that any other painful methods of meditation (unknown to
   the ancient contemplatives) do afford us sufficient light and grace for
   such a purpose, because they pierce not deep enough into the spirit;
   what reasonable soul but will hence conclude that there must needs be
   some other efficacious means for the acquiring of the end which we
   propose to ourselves? And since God will infallibly give light and
   grace to all those that have recourse unto Him in spirit and truth, it
   must necessarily follow that the only culpable ground of such ignorance
   must needs be a neglect of such prayer, and the root of such neglect a
   sensual tepid disposition of the will, hating to raise itself to God.
   And let any one judge whether an ignorance so grounded can excuse us;
   especially considering that our holy Father requires the practice of
   such prayer in all our smallest undertakings, and teaches us that his
   [63]Rule is only a preparation to perfection; he refers us further to
   the examples of the ancient hermits, whose manner of prayer if we would
   imitate, we should make some approaches at least to that perfection--to
   the almost inconceivable sublimity and purity whereof they attained.

   8. Now if ignorance will not be a sufficient excuse to any religious
   person for either not endeavouring after interior purity of soul by
   prayer in spirit, or endeavouring after a wrong improper manner and
   way, how much less excusable, nay, how deeply culpable, before God will
   those be who are sufficiently instructed in the only true internal ways
   leading to contemplation, and withal are furnished with all helps,
   leisure, and advantages for that purpose, and yet out of a settled
   slothfulness and fixed love to sensual objects have not the courage or
   will to walk in them, yea, perhaps having once comfortably walked in
   them, do most ungratefully and perfidiously forsake and turn out of
   them? Reaping no other benefit by their knowledge, but perhaps an
   ability to talk of them to the help of others, it may be, but to the
   increasing of their own pride and self-love; so that their knowledge of
   their obligation and end of their profession helps to lead them further
   from it.

   9. But, above all, most miserable will their condition be who, living
   in contemplative orders and not having either sufficient knowledge or
   grace to practise themselves the exercises of true internal prayer and
   abstraction of life, shall deter others therefrom, and discountenance
   or perhaps persecute those whom God hath inspired to renew the only
   proper exercises of contemplation, the decay of which has been the
   decay of the true spirit of monastical religion.

   10. True it is that to justify such undue proceedings and to gain an
   esteem to their own inferior exercises, partiality has suggested to
   them certain seeming reasons and pretences against the practice of
   contemplative prayer, as if it were dangerous, and did expose the
   exercisers of it to illusions, or as if it were prejudicial to regular
   observances and obedience; or that perhaps it may diminish the credit
   which some religious orders have gained in the world by their long
   solemn offices laboriously celebrated. But (as I shall in due place in
   the last treatise demonstrate) all these accusations made against
   contemplative prayer are most unjust and groundless. On the contrary,
   those that practise such prayers as they ought are most careful of
   conformity to religious duties, and especially the Divine Office
   appointed by the Church; and this is out of conscience and with great
   purity of intention.

   11. Indeed, true internal livers are not very solicitous for gaining
   credit and esteem with the world, and much less would they make that an
   end of their religious observances. On the contrary, their cordial
   desire is to live unknown and excluded from the world, approving their
   souls to God only. Neither are they forward to usurp offices abroad not
   belonging to them, as of preaching, hearing confessions of seculars,
   &c., by which the most necessary solitude and recollectedness, which by
   their profession ought to be prized above all things, are interrupted
   and oft utterly destroyed. And the more confidently do they express a
   zeal for these essential things, as being assured that God will not be
   wanting to supply them sufficiently with all things necessary to their
   corporal sustenance, as long as they prefer the care of purifying their
   souls and complying with the obligations of their profession before
   such inferior things. St. Anthony was so careful of preserving this
   spirit of solitude and disengagement from all treating with the world,
   that he forbids his monks to enter into churches frequented by
   multitudes, and much less would he suffer them to invite and call
   seculars into their own churches. And St. Stephen, of Grammont, upon
   experience of what extreme prejudice the spirit of religion had
   received by neglecting a solitary abstracted life, forbids his
   disciples in his [64]Rule to have public churches or to admit into
   their oratories the presence of seculars, or so much as to let them
   take holy water home with them, or to quit their desert to preach to
   others. He commands them to avoid confraternities, &c.; and to prevent
   complaints and fears, lest by so rigorous a sequestration from the
   world they should be in danger of penury, be most assuredly protests
   unto them that it is impossible that God should neglect to provide for
   them that for His sake quit all pretensions to the world.

   12. But the true cause of bitterness shown by some against internal
   prayer (restored by several most illuminated and glorious saints in
   these latter times) may be feared to proceed partly from some kind of
   pride and an unwillingness to acknowledge any religious exercises to be
   more perfect than those practised so long by themselves, or to see that
   power which they had gained in the managing of the consciences of
   religious persons, &c., to be in danger of ceasing.

   13. To conclude this point. Those that place perfection of a religious
   profession in anything but in the purity and simplicity of spirit, such
   may call themselves monks and contemplatives, being yet able to show no
   signs of such a profession but the habit, and a certain outward,
   formal, solemn, and severe comportment, under which may be hidden a
   secret most profound self-love and pride. And they may do well to
   meditate seriously on that memorable saying of Hesychius, a holy
   illuminated monk: He that hath renounced the world, saith he, that is,
   marriage, possessions, and the like, such an one indeed hath made the
   exterior man a monk, but not as yet the interior; but he that hath
   renounced his own thoughts and affections, such an one hath made truly
   the interior man a monk also; and verily any one that hath never so
   small desire thereunto may easily make the outward man a monk, but it
   is a task of no small labour to make the interior man so too. Now a
   sign of an interior monk, saith he, is the having attained to the
   dignity of pure spiritual prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   S: 1. That internal prayer was the practice of ancient hermits; what
   kind of prayer that was.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. How it came to pass that vocal prayer became to
   them internal, and brought many souls anciently to perfection. And why
   it will not now do so ordinarily.

   S:S: 7, 8, 9, 10. The great help that the ancients found by external
   labours to bring them to recollection.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13. How manual labour came to give place to studies; the
   which are defended.

   S:S: 14, 15. The late practice of internal prayer recompenses other
   defects.

   1. That internal spiritual prayer was seriously and almost continually
   practised by the ancients is apparent both out of the Lives and
   Conferences of the Ancient Fathers. But indeed there are but few proofs
   extant that appointed times were set for the exercising it
   conventually, except in the fore-mentioned story of the monk tempted by
   the devil to retire himself from his brethren when they were in such
   prayer. I suppose, therefore, that superiors and directors of souls
   tending to contemplation were in these latter days obliged to enjoin
   daily recollections, by reason that the daily, private, and continual
   employments of religious persons are not so helpful and advantageous to
   the procuring of that most necessary simplicity and purity of soul as
   anciently they were; and, therefore, they were forced to make some
   supply for this defect by such conventual recollections, the which they
   instituted to be performed in public, because they perceived or feared
   that religious souls, if they were left to themselves, would out of
   tepidity neglect a duty so necessary and so efficacious.

   2. Now to the end that, by comparing the manner of living observed
   anciently by religious persons with the modern in these days, it may
   appear what great advantages they enjoyed towards the attaining of
   perfection of prayer beyond us, we may consider: 1. their set
   devotions, what they were; and, 2. their daily employments during the
   remainder of the day.

   3. As concerning the first, their appointed devotions, either in public
   or private, was only reciting the psalter, to which they sometimes
   enjoined a little reading of other parts of scripture. For as for the
   fore-mentioned conventual mental exercise of prayer, it was very short,
   being only such short aspirations as God's Spirit did suggest unto them
   in particular, as it were the flower of their public vocal prayers.
   Yea, and in private, when they did purposely apply themselves to
   prayer, they seldom varied from the manner of their public devotions;
   for then they also used the psalter.

   4. Now how it came to pass that vocal prayers alone were in ancient
   times available to bring souls to perfect contemplation, which in these
   days it neither does nor, ordinarily speaking, can do, I shall declare
   more fully when I come hereafter to treat of prayer; and in this place
   I will content myself to point only at the reasons and grounds of
   difference, viz. 1. one reason was their incomparably more abstraction
   of life, more rigorous solitude, and almost perpetual silence, of the
   practice of which in these days, it is believed, we are not capable; 2.
   a second was their fasts, abstinences, and other austerities beyond the
   strength of our infirm corporal complexions; 3. a third was their
   external employments out of the set times of prayer, the which did far
   better dispose souls to recollection, to attendance on the divine
   inspirations, &c., than those ordinarily practised in these days.

   5. No wonder, then, if vocal prayer, exercised by such pure, resigned,
   humble, mortified, and undistracted souls, had the efficacy to produce
   in them an habitual state of recollected introversion, which doubtless
   in many of them was more profound, not only whilst they were busied in
   their vocal exercises, but also during their external business, than it
   is ordinarily with us in the height of our best recollections.

   6. But a more large handling of this matter I refer to the last
   treatise, where we speak purposely of prayer. And for this present I
   will only take into consideration the third fore-named advantage of
   corporal labours, which to the ancients proved a help to contemplation
   far more efficacious than the general employments of religious in these
   days.

   7. For the demonstrating whereof it is to be observed that anciently
   souls embracing a religious life were moved thereto merely out of the
   spirit of penance, without any regard at all to make use of their
   solitude for the getting of learning or for the disposing themselves to
   holy orders. Being likewise poor, unprovided of annual rents or
   foundations (the which they were so far from seeking or desiring that,
   in our holy Father's expression, chap. 48, they did then only account
   themselves to be vere monachi, si de labore manuum suarum
   viverent--true monks, whilst they lived by the labour of their hands),
   they were both by necessity and choice obliged to corporal labour.

   8. But their principal care above all other things being to attend unto
   God, and to aspire unto perfect union in spirit with Him, they
   ordinarily made choice of such labours as were not distractive, and
   such as might be performed in solitude and silence, so that during the
   said labours they kept their minds continually fixed on God. Such
   labours were the making of baskets, or some other works of the like
   nature, that required no solicitude and very small exactness and
   attention. And as ecclesiastical histories inform us, such was the
   charity of bishops and other good persons their neighbours, that to
   ease them of all care about the disposing or selling of their work, as
   likewise to hinder them from having recourse to markets for the sale
   thereof, order was taken that such works should be taken out of their
   hands, and a competent price allowed them for them.

   9. By this means it came to pass that their external labours, being
   exercised in order to the advancement of their spirits, proved a
   wonderful help thereto, disposing them to prayer and almost continual
   conversation with God. And indeed it was God Himself who, by the
   ministry of an angel, taught St. Anthony this art and most secure
   method of aspiring to contemplation, when, being unable to keep his
   mind continually bent in actual prayer, he grew weary of solitude, and
   in a near disposition to quit it; at which time an angel appearing to
   him busily employed in making baskets of the rinds of palms, signified
   to him that it was God's will that he should after the same manner
   intermit his devotions, so spending the time that he could not employ
   in prayer.

   10. Such were the external daily employments of the ancient
   contemplatives, and so great virtue did they find in them for the
   advancement of their spirit. By which means so many of them attained to
   so sublime a degree of contemplation; yea, and generally most of them
   arrived to very great simplicity of spirit and almost continual
   recollectedness.

   11. But when afterwards by the most plentifully flowing charity of
   devout Christians there was not only taken from religious all necessity
   of sustaining themselves by corporal labours, but they were moreover
   richly furnished, and enabled to supply the wants of many others, we
   may well judge that it would become a hard matter to persuade a
   continuance of much manual labour, purely and only for the greater good
   of the spirit, when otherwise it was both needless and afflicting to
   the body. Hence it came to pass that since necessarily some employment
   besides prayer must be found out for the entertaining of those solitary
   livers, learning as the most noble of all other, was made choice of,
   yet so that for many ages corporal labours were not wholly excluded.

   12. Yet this was not the sole, nor I suppose the principal, grounds of
   so great and almost universal a change as afterward followed in the
   manners and fashion of a coenobitical life. But we may reasonably
   impute the said exchange of labours for studies in a principal manner
   to the good providence of God over His Church, that stood in such
   extreme need of another sort of labourers in God's vineyard; and
   consequently to the charity of religious men themselves, who, during
   that most horrible ignorance and depravation reigning over all the
   world almost besides, thought themselves obliged to repay the wonderful
   charity of good Christians, by extending a greater charity, in
   communicating to them spiritual and heavenly things for their temporal.
   Hence came a necessity of engaging themselves in the cure of souls and
   government of the Church, the which indeed, for several ages, was in a
   sort wholly sustained by them; yea, moreover, by their zeal, labours,
   and wisdom the light of divine truth was spread abroad among heathens
   also, and many provinces and kingdoms adjoined to the Church. These
   things considered, no wonder is there if the introducing of reading and
   studies in the place of manual labours was unavoidably necessary.

   13. But perhaps some there may be not so well affected or pleased with
   the present reputation or commodities enjoyed by religious persons
   that, assenting to what hath been here said, will notwithstanding infer
   that, since learning is now become so much dilated in the world by the
   zeal and charity of ancient monastical religious, there is no longer
   any the like necessity of their interesting themselves in
   ecclesiastical affairs, and therefore that they ought to return to
   their old corporal employments and labours.

   14. Hereto it may be replied that even still there is much need of
   them, considering the far greater frequentation of sacraments in these
   days above the ancient times. But moreover, if in these times, wherein
   learning and knowledge is so exposed to all sorts of men, religious
   persons should quit studies, returning to their ancient employment of
   manual labours (from which, as hath been said, God Himself did
   doubtless withdraw them), besides that their ignorance would render
   them the universal objects of contempt through the whole Church, it
   would likewise expose them, as for their states, as a prey to all that
   either envied or coveted the scarce subsistence left them; and as to
   their souls, they would be obnoxious to be turned hither and thither by
   the variety of directors that would undertake to guide them; and by
   these means all men would be deterred from adjoining themselves unto
   them for continuing a succession.

   15. Now though, as hath been said, such a change hath been after this
   manner made in the external employments of religious persons, yet still
   the same essential indispensable obligation of aspiring to
   contemplation remains; for the attaining to which, although studies
   joined with prayer seem in some regards to be less advantageous than
   anciently such labours as the Egyptian monks, &c. undertook were, yet
   it hath pleased God in goodness to His servants in a good measure to
   recompense that disadvantage by raising up several holy persons to
   teach more accurately than formerly the knowledge and practice of pure
   internal contemplative prayer. For since it cannot be denied that to
   persons far more distracted by studies than anciently they were by
   labours, (which did not hinder a moderate quiet attention to God) vocal
   prayer, though never so much prolonged, has not ordinarily speaking
   sufficient force to recollect the mind habitually, or to suppress and
   cure the many inordinate affections of corrupt nature: hence it is that
   the use of appointed daily recollections hath seemed to be of absolute
   necessity, without which the spirit of contemplation would be quite
   lost. So that to such prayer we may most principally impute the great
   lights and helps for contemplation afforded by some later saints in
   religious orders, and in the world also, to the great benefit of God's
   Church; that sole exercise in a good measure making amends for all
   other defects in which we seem to come short of the ancients.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VII.

   S: 1. Of special duties of religious persons.

   S: 2. A religious person ought to desire to be always under obedience.

   S:S: 3. 4. Qualities necessary in a religious superior.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. That active spirits are very improper to govern
   such as are contemplative. The grounds of the difference.

   S: 10. A fearful example in Bernardinus Ochinus, showing how dangerous
   the neglect of internal prayer is in a religious superior.

   1. Having thus largely set down the proper and only end of a religious
   profession, to wit, purity and simplicity of soul, to be obtained by
   recollected contemplative prayer alone, I will further add some more
   special duties belonging to religious persons, according to their
   several relations and qualities, as superiors or other subordinate
   officers, subjects, &c. For as for the proper virtues of a religious
   state, as obedience, poverty, humility, &c., the handling of them is
   referred to the following treatise.

   2. Now with what mind a devout soul ought to embrace a religious
   profession is signified to us in that notable passage in our holy
   father's [65]Rule, where he saith, In coenobio degens desiderat sibi
   abbatem praeesse, that is, Whosoever lives in a religious community is
   desirous that an abbot should be set over him. From whence we ought
   that infer that the intention of a religious person ought ever to be to
   live in subjection to the will of another, and in such a mind to
   continue all his life. And, therefore, those that readily accept, and
   much more those that ambitiously seek, government and prelature may
   reasonably be judged to be led by a spirit directly opposite to the
   spirit of religion. And surely he that shall seriously consider of what
   difficulty and of what extreme danger the office of a superior is, what
   terrible threatenings our holy Father so often denounces from God
   against a negligent, partial, and unfaithful discharge of such an
   office, will think it far fitter to be the object of his fear and
   aversion than of his desire. Therefore that superior that does not find
   himself more willing to give up his place than to retain it, ought to
   suspect that he is scarce in a good state.

   3. Now to the end that both subjects may be informed what qualities
   they are to regard in the electing of superiors, and also superiors be
   put in mind what is expected from them in the discharge of such an
   office duly imposed on them, I will, from [66]St. Bernard, set down
   three necessary conditions or endowments by which superiors are to
   direct their subjects, the which are: 1. verbum; 2. exemplum; and 3.
   oratio; that is, exhortation, good example, and prayer; adding,
   moreover, Major autem horum est oratio. Nam etsi vocis virtus sit et
   operis; et operi tamen et voci gratiam efficaciamque promeretur oratio;
   that is, Of those three necessary qualities the greatest and most
   necessary is prayer; for although there be much virtue in exhortation
   and example, yet prayer is that which procures efficacy and success to
   both the other.

   4. From which testimony and authority, yea, even from the light of
   natural reason, we may firmly conclude that the spirit of prayer is so
   absolutely necessary to a religious superior, that without it he cannot
   exercise his charge profitably either to himself or to his subjects;
   and consequently that to a superior in an order whose spirit is
   contemplation, it is necessary that he have attained to a good
   established habit of contemplative prayer. For (as hath been said in
   the foregoing discourse concerning spiritual guides) how can such a
   superior, without knowledge gained by experience, inculcate the so
   necessary duties of recollection and prayer? Nay, rather will he not be
   more likely to discountenance those exercises in which he is not
   skilled, and from which perhaps he has an aversion?

   5. Therefore that too ordinarily maintained position of some, that
   active spirits are more fit for superiorities and external employments
   than contemplative, which are to be left to the solitude and
   sequestration to which their spirits incline them, is indeed most
   unreasonable and groundless.

   6. On the contrary, no doubt there is but that the decay of religion
   hath principally proceeded from this preposterous disorder, viz. that
   in most religious communities active spirits have got the advantage to
   possess themselves of prelatures and spiritual pastorships over the
   contemplative, though the state of religion was instituted only for
   contemplation. And this has happened even since contemplative prayer
   has been restored by persons extraordinarily raised by God, as
   Rusbrochius, Thaulerus, [67]St. Teresa, &c., so that religious
   communities have been ordered even in the point of spirituality by
   spirits of a quite different and contrary temper to that for which they
   were intended.

   7. Indeed, it is not to be wondered at that active spirits should so
   prevail, considering that those who are truly of a contemplative
   disposition and design, knowing well the difficulty and danger of
   superiority, how full of extroversion, distraction, and solicitude it
   is, and what occasions and temptations there are in it to raise,
   nourish, and satisfy sensual affections, pride, &c., to the peril of
   extinguishing the spirit of prayer (except in souls far advanced in
   prayer and mortification), such, I say, are therefore justly afraid of,
   and do use all lawful means to avoid, the care and government of
   others. Whereas active spirits that live in religion, not being capable
   of such prayer as will raise them much out of nature, have not the like
   apprehensions of such employments; but, on the contrary, being led by
   natural desires of preeminence and love of liberty, and believing that
   those who are true internal livers will not submit themselves to all
   the ways and policies used for the increasing the temporal good of
   their communities, do not fear to offer themselves, yea, and
   ambitiously to seek dominion over others, falsely in the mean time
   persuading themselves that their only motive is charity and a desire to
   promote the glory of God and the advancement, both temporal and
   spiritual, of their convents or congregations. But what the effect is
   experience shows.

   8. True it is that it cannot be avoided but that many unfit spirits
   will oft be admitted into religious orders, very different from the
   dispositions requisite (though it belongs to superiors to provide as
   well as may be against such an abuse): but such being admitted, of
   active dispositions, the best were to employ them in active exercises
   and external matters, as in the offices of procuration, dispense,
   building, and the like; but as for prelacies, the charge of instructing
   novices, or other offices pertaining to the directing of souls, it is
   to the destruction of the spirit of contemplation to employ active
   dispositions in such. For how can they, without light or experience,
   direct souls in ways unknown to themselves, yea, which through
   ignorance or mistake they perhaps disapprove?

   9. Besides, upon exact consideration it will be found that, in the
   point of government, contemplative spirits that have made a good
   progress in internal prayer have great advantages above the active. For
   such being careful themselves to use all due abstraction will less
   molest themselves and others with impertinent businesses; not prying
   too narrowly into all passages, as if they sought occasion of showing
   their authority and ability in making unnecessary reprehensions, to the
   disquieting of communities; but for peace sake they will sometimes even
   silere a bonis, passing over many things which do seem a little amiss,
   wherein they show great prudence and also cause much profit to
   subjects. 2. Such being diligent about their own recollections, do, out
   of a love for patience, silence, and peace, forbear the doing or
   imposing of a multitude of unnecessary tasks upon others. 3. By means
   of prayer they obtain light to order all things to the benefit of their
   subjects' souls; and in case they have erred or been defective in
   anything, they discover and amend it in their next recollection. 4. In
   the manner and fashion of their whole comportment a certain divine
   grace shines forth, which is of great efficacy to win their subjects'
   hearts to obedience and divine love. 5. Yea, if by corporal infirmity
   they be disabled to attend to many external observances, yet a view of
   the patience, quietness, and resignation shown by them is more edifying
   to souls under their care than all the most exact external regularities
   and severities of active spirits. 6. Yea, even in regard of temporal
   benefit to communities, contemplative spirits are more advantageous
   than active. Because they, not putting any confidence in their own
   industry, prudence, and activity, but only in the divine providence
   (which is never wanting to those that for temporal regards will not do
   anything unseemly or misbecoming their abstracted state), do enjoy the
   effects and blessings of God far more plentifully, whilst they prefer
   His love and service before any human distracting solicitudes for
   outward things. Memorable examples of great blessings attending such a
   confidence in God we find abundantly in the life of our holy Father and
   of the ancient monks, and more lately in the life of Suso, [68]St. John
   of the Cross, &c. Now the want of such confidence in active spirits
   proceeds merely from defect in divine love, and that from the want of
   internal prayer. And hence proceed hurtful and unseemly compliances
   with the world, a regard rather to wealth than good wills to serve God
   in the souls that enter into religion, &c.

   10. A fearful example of the mischief following the neglect of internal
   prayer in a superior, we find in Bernardine Ochinus, a superior in a
   most strict order, who was a famous zealous preacher, and, as might be
   judged by outward appearance, of more than ordinary sanctity; yet
   withal, to comply with those outward employments, a great neglecter of
   internal conventual recollections. And when he was sometimes charitably
   admonished of such his tepidity, his ordinary answer was: Do you not
   know that he who is always in a good action is always in prayer? Which
   saying of his had been true, if such good actions had been performed in
   virtue of prayer, and by grace obtained thereby, for then they had been
   virtually prayers; whereas actions, though in themselves never so good,
   if they want that purity of intention which is only to be had by pure
   prayer, are in God's esteem of little or no value,--the principal
   motives of them being no other than such as corrupt nature is likely to
   suggest. Ochinus, therefore, continuing in the same neglect, was by one
   of his brethren prophetically warned that he must expect some terrible
   issue thereof, in these words: Cave ne te ordo evomat, that is, Take
   heed that our order be not hereafter constrained to vomit thee out of
   it. The which unhappily fell out; for notwithstanding all his other
   specious qualities and endowments, he, first forsaking God, was
   afterwards forsaken by Him, and became a wretched Antitrinitarian
   apostate. And it is very probable that the greatest part of the
   apostates of these times (such I mean as have formerly lived in
   religious orders) do owe their apostasy and perdition to no other cause
   so much as to such neglect and apostasy first from prayer; the which
   holy exercise if they had continued, they would never have been weary
   of their habit first and afterward of their faith.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VIII.

   S: 1. Superiors ought carefully to examine the dispositions of those
   that they admit to religion.

   S:S: 2, 3. Great danger to communities from loose spirit.

   S:S: 4, 5. Other ill qualities to be avoided.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8, 9. Of a good nature; what it is, and how to be prized.

   S:S: 10, 11. Inconveniences by admitting active spirits into
   contemplative religions.

   S:S: 12, 13, 14, 15. Sufficient time for recollection is to be allowed
   to all religious.

   S: 16. Superiors will be accountable for disorders in their flock.

   1. Now one of the principal points of a superior's care for the welfare
   of his community consists in providing or admitting into it only such
   spirits and dispositions as are likely to promote the good of it, by
   living according to the spirit of it. And in this all such officers and
   counsellors are concerned, to whom the laws have referred the
   examination and trial of such as offer themselves to a regular life,
   and are afterward, upon their approbation, to be professed; and a
   greater consideration of this point is more necessary in these days
   than anciently it was; for it is not now as in our holy Father's time,
   when incorrigible persons might be expelled the congregation.

   2. It is not, I suppose, needful to advise such as are in those offices
   to take care how they admit loose spirits into religion among them, who
   will not so much as intend God or His service--all whose actions have
   no other motive but either fear of penance or hope of gaining
   reputation, preferments, &c.; whose bodies are prisoners in religion,
   but their minds and desires wandering in the world; who must enjoy all
   privileges and corporal helps equally with the best, yea, and generally
   use them most wastefully, without consideration of others; who, finding
   no taste or contentment in spiritual matters, are even forced to seek
   satisfaction in sensual pleasures, and for the passing of time, to
   frame designs, to raise and maintain factions, and this especially
   against those that they see do most intend God, on whom they will cast
   from off themselves all the burdens of a regular life; who will think
   themselves excused from all duties for the least corporal incommodity;
   who will desire and endeavour to make others like themselves, that
   their party and power may be greater; lastly, who reap so little good
   to their own souls, and are likely to do so much prejudice to others,
   that probably it had been much better for them to have continued in the
   world, the state of religion only serving to increase their guilt and
   misery.

   3. Such loose spirits are worse in a community where the knowledge of
   true spirituality is common than in other places, because there they
   are wilfully nought, and do resist amendment. If by the severity of
   laws and constitutions they may come to be kept in some tolerable
   order, yet this reaches only to the exterior, and lasts no longer than
   the superior's eyes are upon them. And indeed the superiors themselves
   will in all probability feel the greatest smart from such undue
   admissions, being likely to find daily great bitterness from their
   obstinacy. Such loose spirits are the cause of such a burdensome
   multiplicity of laws, all which, notwithstanding, are little available
   for their amendment, and yet do abridge the due liberty of spirit
   necessary to devout well-minded souls, nourishing scrupulosity, &c., in
   them.

   4. Let the best care that is possible be used, notwithstanding some
   unfit persons will, through easiness, partial affection, or other
   respects in the examiners, slip in. If, therefore, those who are
   apparently bad be received, what a community will there be provided?
   Many that seem good will prove bad, but seldom or never will those that
   appear bad become good. God indeed can change the worst; but yet an
   uncertain hope in extraordinary grace is not to be relied upon,
   especially where public good is concerned.

   5. Generally there is great fervour in souls at their first entrance
   into religion. Therefore, if any show unruliness, obstinacy, and
   indevotion during their noviceship, small good is to be expected from
   them.

   6. A little devoutness will not serve to countervail ill inclinations
   to lying, dissembling, factiousness, a humour of calumniating, &c.; for
   a great and scarce-to-be-hoped-for measure of grace will be requisite
   to subdue such pernicious qualities. On the contrary, a good nature,
   even where there is not so much devotion, yet will bear up a soul, and
   make her a tolerable member of a community. It is likewise a great
   disposition for grace, which it may well be hoped will one day follow,
   and that such an one will become devout. Especially this may be hoped
   for in those that have naturally a good sound judgment, which is much
   to be considered.

   7. Now by a good nature I mean not such an one as is generally in the
   world styled so, to wit, a facility and easiness to grant a request or
   to comply with others. On the contrary, forasmuch as regards a
   coenobitical life, I account such to be an ill nature, being easily
   seduced and perverted. By a good nature, therefore, in this place, I
   mean such an one as is endued with modesty, gentleness, quietness,
   humility, patience, love of truth, and other such morally good
   qualities, which are good dispositions for Christian perfection. Now a
   person of an ill nature, that will make a good show out of hope to
   steal a profession, ought the rather for his dissimulation to be
   rejected.

   8. And indeed subtle natures are much to be taken heed of. Some novices
   will behave themselves so cunningly as at the end of their probation
   none can be able to produce any special accusation against them, and
   yet they may in their conscience believe them to be unfit. In this case
   every one is to follow his own judgment; and especial heed is to be
   taken of the judgment of the master or mistress of the novices, who are
   most to be credited, as having the opportunity and means to espy and
   penetrate more deeply into their interior dispositions.

   9. This goodness or virtuousness of natures is an essential point, and
   far more to be regarded than those accidental ones, as strength of
   bodily complexion, acuteness of wit, gracefulness of behaviour, skill
   in singing, nobility, portion, &c. And particularly for this last, how
   far religious souls ought to be from regarding riches or gain in
   matters of this nature, or for such carnal ends to admit those that are
   unfit, or whom God hath not sent, the General Decree of the Church in
   the first OEcumenical Council of Lateran (can. 64) will show; besides,
   the practice of antiquity, as we may read in an epistle of St.
   Augustine. Surely the only way of founding convents securely, even in
   regard of temporalities, is by making choice only of those to whom God
   hath given fitting dispositions, whereby we may engage His omnipotence
   in their preservation.

   10. Those, therefore, upon whose suffrages the admission and profession
   of new-comers do depend, are to consider that they are intrusted by the
   whole congregation with a matter of such consequence as not only the
   present but future welfare or ruin of convents is interested in their
   proceedings: all which trust they shall betray if any undue
   consideration of friendship, kindred, gain, &c., or a zeal of
   multiplying convents (which is but carnal), shall corrupt their
   judgments.

   11. Surely, therefore, in all reason none should be admitted into
   communities professing the aspiring to contemplation, but only such as
   are disposed thereto, and that are willing, yea, desirous, to spend
   their whole lives in solitude, prayer, and regular observances, without
   any designs or thoughts of ever being employed abroad (yet always with
   an entire submission to the ordinances of superiors).

   12. And indeed (as was said before concerning superiors, that active
   spirits being to direct the contemplative do endanger the extinguishing
   of the spirit of contemplation; so likewise) if such be without choice
   admitted, the same mischief will follow. Yea, I am persuaded that many
   active spirits, though of a good seemly outward carriage, are no less
   harmful to a community than a lesser number of loose spirits. And the
   reason is because by their good exterior show they will seem worthy of
   superiority, to which also their activity will incline them. And those
   are they indeed, saith Thaulerus, that are persecutors of
   contemplation; for having a good opinion of themselves and their own
   ways (which loose spirits have not), they think themselves even obliged
   to depress those other good souls that do not judge those external
   exercises and fashions suitable to their profession. And for this
   reason they will by faction seek to increase their number; yea, and to
   strengthen their own party, they will not spare to join, with loose
   spirits, for their own interests yielding to their disorders. Neither
   when they have compassed their ends by the ruin of the spirit of
   contemplation will unquietness cease; for in a community wholly
   consisting of active spirits factions and partialities for several ends
   and designs will never be wanting.

   13. Now the same care that superiors ought to have about the choice and
   admission of virtuous and fit souls into communities, must be continued
   in the managing and directing of them being admitted. Great care,
   therefore, is to be taken that the misbehaviour of novices do not
   proceed from want of knowledge and instruction in matters of the
   spirit; that so it may appear that, if they do not well, it is for want
   of good will, and not of light. Now it is not to be expected that
   novices should be perfect; it will suffice that they seriously tend to
   it by a constant pursuance of internal prayer and abstraction of life.

   14. Above all things, therefore, superiors ought to allow to their
   subjects a competent time daily for their recollections, which is the
   food of the soul, and to deny which would be a greater tyranny than to
   refuse corporal food to slaves after their travail. He deserves not the
   name of a religious man, saith Cajetan, no, nor of a Christian, saith
   Thaulerus, that doth not every day spend some reasonable space in his
   interior. [69]St. Bernard would not excuse even Pope Eugenius himself,
   in the midst of those continually most distractive weighty affairs of
   the popedom, from this duty; the want whereof is more harmful to the
   soul than that of corporal food is to the body. For he that fasts one
   day, besides the present pain he finds, will the next have a better and
   more eager appetite; but a soul that through neglect is deprived of her
   daily food of prayer will the next day have a less stomach and
   disposition to it, and so in time will come willingly and even with
   pleasure to starve in spirit; and to such neglect and loathing of
   prayer she will come, if superiors do hinder, or indeed not encourage
   her to a constant exercise of it.

   15. Now this care of superiors must extend itself as well to lay
   brethren or sisters as those of the choir. For they also have the same
   obligation to aspire to contemplation; and if the appointed vocal
   prayers of the Divine Office without the joining of daily recollections
   will not avail to procure in these the spirit of recollectedness, much
   less will those short prayers or offices to which the others are
   obliged.

   16. To conclude this point: It concerns most deeply superiors to take
   care that their subjects live according to their profession and
   obligation; for if it should be by their fault that they fail, it will
   be no excuse to the subjects, but a great part of the burden and
   punishment will light upon superiors. And it were far better they had
   never come under their direction, but stayed in the world, where, not
   having the like obligation to the perfection of Christian virtues,
   their guilt would have been the less. Hence St. Augustine saith that as
   he never saw better souls than those in religion, so likewise he never
   saw worse. And the reason is because it argues a most maliciously ill
   habit of soul when, in the midst of so great light and such helps to
   piety, spiritual sloth and tepidity reign. And where tepidity is in
   religion, although carnal open sins may be avoided, yet the more
   dangerous sins of the spirit, pride, factiousness, envy, &c., do find
   occasions of being raised and nourished, perhaps more than in the
   world. Add hereunto that irreverences and profaning of the sacraments
   are not so common in the world, where the obligations and commodity of
   participating are not so frequent. And lastly, which is most
   considerable, those who in religion are sluggish and indevout do grow
   continually worse and worse, being more and more hardened by the daily
   heartless exercise of prayer and tepid communions; for where the
   sacraments do not produce the good effects for which God gave them,
   they do occasionally increase hardness of heart and impenitency. Hence,
   saith Thaulerus, it were better to take into one's body a million of
   devils, than once to take the Body of our Lord, being in an unfit
   disposition. And so it is a very extraordinary and almost miraculous
   thing, if God give the grace of a new conversion to souls that in
   religion are become habitually tepid and stained with known impurity,
   for they, being insensible of their soul's good in the midst of all
   advantages possible to be had, cannot by any change to a better state
   be amended; and, therefore (it is to be feared), such do generally die
   in the state wherein they lived. Whereas, in the world, an ill liver
   may far more probably meet with helps of conversion by change of state,
   place, &c., or by sickness: whereupon [70]St. Bernard professed that he
   would not doubt to give a present absolution to the most enormous
   sinner living in the world, if he would promise to enter into a
   religious life; but what hopes can be of him that after he has left the
   world so habitually neglects God? What change, what new occasions, can
   be afforded to him for his conversion?
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IX.

   S: 1. Advices to novices.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5. Of the Fervor Novitius.' Why God gives it at the
   beginning of our conversion; and what use is to be made of it.

   S:S: 6, 7. How they are to behave themselves after their noviceship.

   S: 8. Superiors ought not to employ young religious in distractive
   employments.

   S: 9. How they are to be ordered about their studies.

   1. There will be occasion in the following treatises to speak of
   several special duties of religious persons, as how they are to behave
   themselves in exterior offices, in sickness, refections, &c. I will
   therefore content myself to adjoin here a few directions and cautions,
   addressed particularly to beginners or novices in religion.

   2. Daily experience confirms that which spiritual writers observe, that
   God in great goodness to souls does usually upon their first conversion
   bestow upon them a great fervour in divine and religious duties, which,
   therefore, our holy Father calls fervorem novitium. Yea, even naturally
   the inbred liking that our infirm nature has to all novelty and change
   causes a more than ordinary pleasure, diligence, and earnestness in any
   new begun employment.

   3. To this purpose there is, in the annals of the Franciscans, related
   a passage touching a devout brother called Michael Magothi, by which we
   may learn the ground and intention of Almighty God in bestowing such a
   fervour. The story is this: There was one of the religious brethren in
   his convent that observed of himself that, ordinarily when he was in
   any external employment of study, labour, &c., God did present his soul
   with His blessing of sweetness and an affection of tender sensible
   devotion; the which, whensoever he set himself purposely to prayer,
   forsook him; whereupon he addressed himself to this good brother
   Michael to demand his counsel; who answered him thus: When you are
   walking at leisure in the market-place thinking of nothing, there meets
   you a man with a vessel of wine to sell. He invites you to buy it, much
   commending the excellency of it; and the better to persuade you, he
   offers you gratis a small glass of it, to the end that, being delighted
   with the colour and fragrancy of it, you may be more tempted to buy the
   whole vessel, which, you must expect, will cost you very dear. Even so
   our Lord Jesus, whilst your thoughts are wandering upon other matters,
   either in reading, or hearing a sermon, or working, by a secret
   inspiration invites you powerfully (instilling a few drops of His
   sweetness into your heart) to taste how delicious He is. But this is
   but transitory, being offered, not to satiate or inebriate you, but
   only to allure you to His service. And therefore, if you expect any
   more, you must consider it is to be sold, and a dear price paid for it.
   For spiritual sweetness can be obtained in no other way but by corporal
   affliction, nor rest but by labour.

   4. Good souls, therefore, are often to be exhorted to make good use of
   this fervour, and to improve it diligently (yet with discretion),
   thereby to produce in their hearts an unshaken resolution to proceed in
   the ways of the divine love, notwithstanding any contradiction or pain
   that may happen. They must not expect that this fervour will be
   lasting; for, being seated in the inferior grosser part of the soul, it
   is not of long continuance, since it may easily be altered, even by any
   change made in the bodily humours, or by external occurrents. So that
   if it be not well managed, and good use made of it to fix holy and
   resolute desires in the spirit (which are more lasting, as not
   depending on the body or outward things), it is justly to be feared
   that God will not bestow the like afterward.

   5. A noviceship is a golden time for the learning and practising
   matters of the spirit. In that short space, therefore, a religious
   person is to raise a stock for his whole future life; so that if a
   noviceship be negligently and improvidently spent, he will scarce ever
   have the like opportunity to promote his spiritual good; for after his
   profession he will, besides liberty, have many more distractions, more
   freedom of conversation, and more intercourse with the news and affairs
   abroad. Besides, he will not utterly be out of danger of some offices
   and employments, for the discharge of which some, perhaps, will suppose
   him already fit and prepared in spirit.

   6. At the going out of the noviceship, the person is to be very careful
   with whom he converses, so as to become an inward acquaintance, lest,
   being so tender as he is yet, he happen quickly to be corrupted with
   the society of negligent tepid companions. For want of this care too
   often it happens that all the good gotten in a noviceship is clean lost
   in a short time, since usually things are no other way preserved but by
   the same means that they were first gotten. Therefore, since it was by
   prayer and abstraction of life that a novice procured all the little
   proportion of divine love that he is possessed of, he must expect that
   it will no other way be preserved. For this reason it is very requisite
   that the superior should appoint such an one his companion.

   7. A soul must consider that it is not a little diligence, nor yet the
   space of a year or two, that will, ordinarily speaking, suffice to get
   a habit and stability in mortification and prayer. And, therefore, a
   young beginner ought to imprint deeply in his heart this most important
   truth and advice, that his duty is never to abate or slacken, but
   rather continually to increase in firmness of mind and resolution, to
   proceed courageously during the whole course of his following life in
   the internal exercises of spirit. For he is to consider that his
   noviceship being once ended, he must never expect such advantages
   thereto afterward, such stillness, such want of interruptions and
   temptations, such clear light, and such calmness of passions, as he
   enjoyed before. Therefore, lest by a change of his state from a
   rigorous solitude and silence to ordinary conversings, and perhaps
   employments or studies, he should come to endanger a decay in spirit,
   and so be miserably reduced to his first natural state or worse (for,
   indeed, worse it will be if such a decay happen), let him be very
   vigilant and industrious to avoid all things that may hinder him from
   prosecuting internal prayer, and let him be careful to continue,
   according to the utmost of his ability, to use all abstraction
   possible, as if he were still in his noviceship.

   8. Indeed, superiors ought to be very careful not to put their young
   religious into distractive employments or studies, either sooner, or
   more than can well stand with their spirit, or before they be
   reasonably well grounded in prayer. For how is it possible for an
   imperfect beginner, having such hindrances, to make progress in spirit?
   Whereas, if a good foundation of spiritual prayer were once laid, such
   a soul, by being applied to his studies or external offices, will
   suffer no decay; yea, moreover, he will probably profit in studies
   above the proportion of his natural abilities, by reason that passions
   which must distract and darken even the natural understanding will be
   much abated by prayer; and, moreover, he will undertake his studies as
   a duty and matter of conscience, which will increase his attention and
   diligence. Yet perhaps, by reason of his abstinence and exercises in
   spirit, his bodily strength will not be vigorous enough to enable him
   to support very much study; and if it should prove so, the loss is not
   great, since the divine love will sufficiently recompense all other
   wants. So it fared with our holy Father, who, as St. Gregory says, was
   sapienter indoctus; his wisdom consisted in despising all learning
   which was not helpful or not necessary to his advancement in the divine
   love, which alone is the true wisdom and learning.

   9. Truly, so great harm comes to young religious after a noviceship
   well spent by being put immediately to schools, and for that purpose
   dispensed with in a great measure about their monastical duties of
   prayer, abstraction, silence, &c., that it were very good and fit when
   persons of tender age come to demand the habit to put them off; and in
   the first place to inform them well about prayer, and to endeavour to
   persuade them that before they undertake a religious state they should
   despatch their course of philosophy and divinity, and during such a
   course to use as much abstraction and recollection as well they can,
   for which they will then find more time than if they had been
   religious, because they shall not be interrupted by the choir and other
   regular observances. So that if studies be then a hindrance to prayer,
   how much more would they be so in case they had been religious? Having
   done all this, then in God's name let them demand the habit. By this
   means good souls would not be interrupted in their religious course,
   nor put in danger never again to recover the spirit of prayer. And if,
   following such directions, they should come to die before the time of
   taking the habit, they may assure themselves that in God's account they
   shall be esteemed as religious souls, wholly consecrated unto Him.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER X.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of the obligation of the English Benedictines to the
   Mission. The sublime perfection of that employment.

   S:S: 3, 4. The care of it belongs only to religious superiors, and not
   at all to particular religious.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. Great danger of seeking that employment,
   and false pretences to obtain it, &c.

   S: 12. How the said charge is to be performed.

   1. It will not be amiss to adjoin to this section concerning a
   religious state certain considerations and advices touching a subject
   which, though it pertain not to religious persons in general, yet is
   annexed to our profession in the English congregation of St. Benedict's
   Order, and that is the Apostolical Mission into England, which all the
   professed do by a particular vow oblige themselves to undertake
   whensoever they shall be commanded by superiors.

   2. An employment this is of high importance, and most sublime
   perfection, if duly undertaken and administered. But the care thereof
   only belongs to superiors; and indeed it is worthy both of their
   prudence and zeal,--by a right managing whereof they may procure great
   glory to God, and good to souls miserably misled by infinite and most
   pernicious errors.

   3. But as for particular religious, they are merely to be passive in
   the business--they are to submit themselves to the undergoing of all
   the pains, incommodities, and dangers of it, whensoever it shall be
   imposed on them. But this being only an accessory obligation and
   capacity, they are not to suppose that when God gives them a vocation
   to a religious life, this doth make any alteration at all in their
   essential design, most secure and profitable to their own souls, which
   is the leading a solitary, devout, and abstracted life, and therein
   aspiring to contemplation. This only must they aim at, and to this must
   they order all their thoughts and actions, as if they were all their
   lives long to be imprisoned in their cloisters. Therefore, neither
   entering nor afterwards, must they entertain any thoughts or designs
   about anything that is out of the limits of their convents, in which,
   forasmuch as concerns themselves, their desire and intention must be to
   live and die. Particularly they ought to banish out of their minds all
   meditations and inclinations to go in mission into EngIand. Yea, if
   they will indeed comply with their essential profession, they must
   resolve, as much as lies in them, and without offence to God or
   disobedience to their superiors, to prevent such an employment (of
   which they cannot without pride think themselves worthy, or able to
   encounter all the temptations and dangers accompanying it), simply and
   sincerely confining all their thoughts and affections to that life of
   solitude, abstraction, and prayer which they have vowed, and in which
   their souls will find truest comfort and security.

   4. Consequently, neither must they (with an intention to approve unto
   their superiors their fitness for that charge, thereby, as it were,
   inviting them to make use of them for it) apply themselves after such a
   manner to the studies proper for such an employment, as in any measure
   thereby to hinder or interrupt the reading of such books as are most
   beneficial to their souls, and much less to hinder their daily serious
   recollections. In case their superiors (who are only concerned in that
   business) shall require of them to apply themselves diligently to such
   studies as may fit them for the mission, they are obliged therein to
   submit themselves to obedience. Yet even in that case, if they find
   that much time cannot be spent in them without hurt to their spirit and
   a neglect or prejudice to their appointed recollections, they ought to
   acquaint their superiors with their ease, who no doubt will prefer the
   good and advancement of their souls by solitude, purity of spirit, and
   internal prayer, before any other considerations whatsover. Yea, they
   will judge prayer to be a better disposition, and to procure a greater
   enablement, even for such a calling than study, and will take heed how
   they send any abroad that for their studies neglect their prayer. For
   what blessing from God can such hope upon any endeavours of theirs? Is
   it not more likely that themselves will be perverted, than others by
   them converted?

   5. It cannot easily be imagined how mischievous to many souls the
   neglect of such advices may be. Some will perhaps have a mind to take
   the habit for that end and intent principally of going afterward into
   England. What miserable distractions would such a resolution cause
   during all the time of their abode in their convent! for all their
   thoughts, almost all their affections, hopes, and designs will be
   carried abroad into another country; so that the place of their
   profession will be esteemed a place of exile to them. And so far will
   they be from procuring a divine light and grace to enable them for so
   terrible an employment by the means of prayer, that prayer and solitude
   will be distasteful to them. Regular observances will be a burden, and
   anything that may delay their intention, which they say is of
   converting souls; but, alas! perhaps with the loss, or at least
   imminent danger, of their own.

   6. Nay, some that at the beginning have simply and with a good
   intention taken the habit, yielding afterward to the spirit of tepidity
   (which turns their happy solitude into a prison), will look upon the
   mission as a means to free themselves from their profession, and
   therefore will not fear to use all means, by friends and solicitations
   of their superiors, that they may be suffered to quit it and go in
   mission. God only knows into what dangers and temptations they wilfully
   thrust themselves, being utterly unprovided of light or grace to resist
   them. And what other issue can be expected but that God should give
   them up to such temptations, unto which (out of a sensual affection to
   the world, pride, and a weariness of prayer) they have exposed
   themselves, without any call from Him, yea, contrary to His will?

   7. Now it is not only particular religious, but much more superiors,
   that ought to think themselves concerned most deeply in these matters;
   for in case such unwary rash souls shall come thus to destroy
   themselves, they cannot but know that those souls shall be required at
   their hands. They ought, therefore, to root out of the hearts of their
   subjects all such pernicious designs, by showing that they esteem them
   least worthy that are most forward to offer themselves. And great care
   and wariness ought they to use how they send or permit any to go
   abroad, before they be sufficiently furnished, not so much with
   learning as with the spirit of mortification and prayer, and with zeal
   proceeding from an established charity, that so they may not, by
   undertaking and executing active employments, prejudice and perhaps
   ruin their contemplative state.

   8. Our examples ought to be our first holy converters of England, who
   did not undertake such a charge till they were grown old in the
   exercises of solitude and contemplation; and not then till an absolute
   command was imposed on them by the Supreme Pastor. And in the execution
   of their charge, they never suffered their labours and solicitudes to
   dispense with them for the continuing of their accustomed austerities
   and the exercise of prayer, but borrowed from their employments as much
   time as could possibly be allowed, to spend in abstraction, solitude,
   and contemplation. Yea, though they conversed only with pagans and
   barbarous souls, yet so zealous were they of their monastical life and
   profession that they would not so much as quit the habit; and when they
   were consecrated and exalted to the episcopal function, yet still they
   retained both the exercises and fashions of monastical contemplative
   persons, as St. Bede declareth.

   9. Moreover, in latter times, experience hath witnessed that some
   humble and devout, though not so learned, missioners have prospered
   better in converting souls than the most acute and cunning
   controvertists, and have by their humility, modesty, and edifying
   conversation, but especially by the practice and teaching of internal
   prayer, gained to Catholic unity those souls that many other, most
   skilful in disputes, and withal enabled with experience, have for long
   time in vain attempted.

   10. Notwithstanding all this, I do not deny but that to a religious
   soul an impulse and interior invitation may come from God to go into
   the mission. This is possible; but most certain it is that such an
   invitation will very rarely, if ever, come but to souls established in
   a spiritual life. And in this case it will be sufficient for the person
   to propose the matter humbly and modestly to his superiors; yet withal
   with an entire resignation, and almost a desire to be refused. If it be
   God's will actually to make use of such a religious person in an
   employment of that nature, He will no doubt facilitate the business,
   and in His own time incline the will of the superior, without the
   subject's solicitation, to permit him to go.

   11. But whatever pretences are made by others for going into England,
   whether it be converting of souls, and particularly of some special
   friends or kindred, or of recovery of bodily health, gaining of
   temporal commodity to the community, &c., the true motives indeed
   ordinarily proceed from tepidity; which tepidity ought to be corrected
   by prayer and perseverance in religious duties, and not further
   increased and perhaps changed into open libertinage and profaneness by
   such an exemption from all regularity and order, by which a poor,
   unprovided, sensual soul will become deeply engaged in the world,
   exposed to innumerable temptations without spiritual armour, and, as it
   were, cast headlong into a pit of darkness, and of a forgetfulness of
   all things that concern a holy religious life.

   12. As for their obligations in the discharge of that so terrible
   employment (when they are once engaged in it), it will suffice to put
   them in mind that the said charge doth not dispense with the essential
   obligations that lie upon them as religious. If in their convents they
   ought to be humble, abstinent, devout, &c., much more ought they, being
   still religious, but now exposed to innumerable temptations, to
   increase a vigilance over themselves, to avoid all unnecessary vain
   conversations, all solicitudes about external things, &c., and to
   practise all possible abstraction of life, solitude, both external and
   internal; but especially not to neglect the principal duty of all,
   which is pure spiritual prayer, which alone can procure security to
   their own souls and blessings upon others. For surely, if prayer be
   necessary in a convent, much more is it necessary to such persons
   living in the world.
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THE SECOND TREATISE.

  OF THE FIRST INSTRUMENT OF PERFECTION, VIZ. MORTIFICATION.

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THE FIRST SECTION.

    OF MORTIFICATION IN GENERAL; AND OF NECESSARY AND VOLUNTARY MORTIFICATIONS.
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  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. All the duties of a contemplative life reduced to
   two heads, viz. 1. Mortification; 2. Prayer. And the grounds of that
   division.

   S: 6. The necessity of each of these.

   S: 7. How they do advance each the other.

   S:S: 8, 9, 10. Of the two, Prayer is the more noble.

   1. Having so largely treated of the nature and end of a contemplative
   life in general, as likewise of the only Divine Master from whom it is
   to be learned, and the school of solitude in which He gives His
   directions, order requires that we now treat of the special
   instructions touching the means or instruments conducing to the
   obtaining of the supernatural end aspired to by us. Concerning which
   our discourse will not need to be so diffused, considering the large
   scope that we have allowed to ourselves in the first general treatise,
   in which mention also was made of much of that which is to follow.

   2. Several mystical authors, each one abounding in his own sense, and
   raising a frame of spirituality as suited best to his own imagination
   and design, have made several partitions of the duties of a spiritual
   life, and it is not a matter much considerable which of them should be
   preferred. But to the end the best ease and help may be afforded to the
   devout reader's memory, the division of them shall be the shortest that
   may be, yet sufficiently and clearly enough comprehending all necessary
   duties, namely, under these two heads of--1. Mortification; 2. Prayer.

   3. Now to the end that the grounds of the fitness of this division may
   be better understood, we are to remember that the glorious end of a
   contemplative life, to wit, union in spirit with God by love, is
   entirely supernatural and divine, so that it is impossible for man by
   any natural ability and strength, although he were free from sins, to
   attain unto it; and much more is this impossible to him in his present
   state, since he is naturally most averse from it, being wholly
   possessed and filled with nothing but self-love, propriety, and pride,
   absolutely inconsistent with such an union. Therefore, the foundation
   of all our spiritual duties must be a true knowledge--1. of ourselves,
   our own nothing, our unprofitableness, vileness, and misery, which is
   to be the object of our aversion and hatred; and 2. of the
   all-sufficiency, universal being, infinite perfections, and
   incomprehensible beauty and goodness of God, who is to be the only
   object of our contemplation and love; and, consequently, upon this
   knowledge all our endeavours towards this end (being directed by a
   Divine light and assisted by Divine grace) must be employed, first, in
   removing those impediments; and next, consequently, in approaching
   directly to God, an immediate union with whom is aspired to, as the
   only end of our creation and perfection of our intellective nature. We
   must renounce and fly from ourselves, that we may draw near unto God;
   we must destroy self-love in our souls, that so the Divine love may be
   raised and increased in them. Now, it is by Mortification that
   self-love and all other our natural deordinations, which hinder a
   divine union, are removed; and it is by Prayer that we directly tend to
   a divine union. By the former we exercise all duties and practise all
   virtues which regard ourselves (for virtues are so far only to be
   esteemed worthy of that name, inasmuch, and as far as they are
   mortificatory to our inordinate passions and affections, as humility of
   pride, patience of anger, temperance of sensual desires, &c.), and
   prayer (in the notion in which it is here understood) includes all our
   duties directly pertaining to God, as comprehending all manner of
   internal actuations and operations of the soul towards God, by the
   understanding, contemplating, and admiring Him; by the will and
   affections adoring, obeying, loving, and adhering to Him; and, in a
   word, the whole soul resigning and submitting itself, and the body
   also, with all things belonging to each of them, to be disposed
   according to His divine will, both for time and eternity.

   4. This division deserves the rather to be approved, because Hesychius,
   an ancient illuminated monk, in his treatise De Puritate Cordis, hath
   conformably reduced all spiritual duties to: 1. temperance; 2. and
   prayer. By temperance understanding the very same that is here meant by
   mortification; for, as he expresses his meaning, this temperance is a
   general abstaining from all things that would any way disorder the
   affections, or obscure the light of the soul. He calls it likewise
   Custodiam Cordis, a guard or watch set over the heart, forcing it to
   repel all vain and unprofitable thoughts, which, if they be too freely
   admitted, do hinder from observing the snares and suggestions of the
   devil or of our corrupt nature, and do withal disturb the tranquillity
   of the soul.

   5. In those two duties, therefore, of mortification and prayer, all
   good is comprehended; for by the exercise of mortification those two
   general most deadly enemies of our souls, self-love and pride, are
   combated and subdued, to wit, by the means of those two fundamental
   Christian virtues of divine charity and humility. And prayer, exercised
   in virtue of these two, will, both by way of impetration obtain, and
   also with a direct efficiency ingraft, a new divine principle and
   nature in us, which is the Divine Spirit; which will become a new life
   unto us, and the very soul of our souls, by degrees raising us higher
   and higher out of our corrupt nature, till at last we be made one with
   God, by an union as perfect, constant, and immediate as in this frail
   life an intellective soul is capable of.

   6. And both these duties of mortification and prayer are so absolutely
   necessary that they must neither of them ever cease, but continually
   increase in perfection and virtue to the end of our lives. For though
   self-love and pride may by mortification be subdued, yet as long as we
   are imprisoned in mortal bodies of flesh and blood, they will never be
   totally rooted out of us, but that even the most perfect souls will
   find in themselves matter enough for further mortification. And again,
   our union with God by prayer can never either be so constant but that
   it will be interrupted, so as that the soul will fall from her height
   back some degrees into nature again; nor is there any degree of it so
   perfect, pure, and spiritual, but that it may, and by exercise will,
   become yet more and more pure without all limits.

   7. The diligent exercise of each of these doth much advance the
   practice of the other. For as mortification is a good disposition to
   prayer, yea, so necessary that a sensual immortified soul cannot raise
   herself up so much as to look to God with any cordial desire to please
   Him, or to love and be resigned to Him, much less to be perfectly
   united to Him; so, likewise, by prayer the soul obtains light to
   discover whatsoever inordinate affections in her are to be mortified,
   and also strength of spiritual grace actually and effectually to subdue
   them.

   8. Hence it may easily appear that of these two prayer is much the more
   valuable and noble exercise. 1. Because in prayer of contemplation
   consists the essential happiness both of this life and that which is to
   come; so that mortification regards prayer as the means disposing to an
   end; for, therefore, a devout soul is obliged to mortify her inordinate
   affections, to the end she may thereby be disposed to a union with God.
   2. Because mortifications are never duly and profitably undergone but
   only in virtue of prayer. Whereas, possible it may be, that prayer
   alone may be considerably advanced without any other notable
   mortifications, in case that God hath provided none for the soul. 3.
   Because prayer is withal in itself the most excellent and effectual
   mortification; for in and by it the most secret risings of inordinate
   passions are contradicted, yea, the mind and superior will are wholly
   abstracted and elevated above nature, so that for the time all passions
   are quieted, and all creatures, especially ourselves, transcended,
   forgotten, and in a sort annihilated.

   9. Notwithstanding, in case that God, as He seldom fails, do provide
   for us occasions of mortification out of prayer, if we be negligent in
   making good use of them to the promoting of ourselves in spirit, we
   shall decrease both in grace and prayer; as, on the contrary, by a good
   use of them we shall both certainly and speedily be advanced in the
   ways of the Spirit. So that neither of them alone is to be relied on.
   Mortification without prayer will be but superficial, or, it is to be
   feared, hypocritical; and prayer, with a neglect of mortification, will
   be heartless, distracted, and of small virtue.

   10. The subject, therefore, of this and the following treatise being a
   recommendation of these two most necessary and most excellent
   instruments of contemplation, reason requires that of the two
   mortification should, in the first place, be treated of, inasmuch as it
   is not only the less perfect, but because, also, the proper use of it
   is to dispose and make even and plain the way to the other, by
   levelling the mountains of pride, raising the valleys of sloth, and
   smoothing the roughness and inequalities of our passions, but
   especially by removing out of the way that general impediment, which is
   propriety of our natural carnal wills.
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  CHAPTER II.

   S: 1. The mortifications here treated of in particular are not of such
   sinful deordinations of passions as are acknowledged to be sins, either
   mortal or venial.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. But of such deordinations as are commonly
   called imperfections, and which may occasion sins.

   S: 9. That sin consists in the enjoying of creatures instead of using
   them.

   S:S: 10, 11, 12. All venial sins cannot be avoided, but affection to
   them must.

   S:S: 13, 14, 15, 16, 17. Wherein such affection consists; and how it is
   inconsistent with perfection.

   1. Now intending to treat of Mortification, first in general, and
   afterwards of the special kinds of it, at least such as are more
   peculiar to internal livers, my design is not to discourse in
   particular of such deordinations as are generally acknowledged to be in
   themselves sinful, either mortally or, in a grosser manner, venially;
   that is, such as that the actions or omissions to which they adhere can
   in no circumstances be lawful or permitted; although the end or
   pretended intention of them were never so good. Such as are officious
   lies, smaller revenges, or calumniations. For it is supposed that the
   souls for whose benefit these instructions were intended are not in a
   state to stand in need of advices concerning such matters, but are
   supposed to be entered into a way of perfection; being desirous--yea,
   through God's grace resolved--to abandon all things, and to cast away
   all adhesions and affections whatsoever that are inordinate, not only
   such as will endanger to kill the soul, but also such as would make it
   sickly and infirm, or stain the lustre and brightness of it.

   2. The objects, therefore, of mortification which I shall chiefly
   handle, are such defects as though indeed in themselves they be sinful,
   yet are not acknowledged by all to be so, but are called only
   imperfections; being such sins as, considering the frailty of our
   nature, can hardly be avoided, and never totally rooted out; being
   conversant about objects which we may lawfully and most necessarily
   use, but the fault is, that we do with some deordination either adhere
   to or are averted from such objects. In a word, such sins they are
   that, except when they are more gross, it would be an endless and
   unprofitable labour to make them matters of confession, although the
   correcting and abating of them ought to be the object of our daily
   care.

   3. I will endeavour to explain my meaning more fully in this matter,
   because it is the ground of the whole following discourse. We must
   know, then, that the duty of a Christian (much more of a soul that
   aspires to perfection) is to love nothing at all but God, or in order
   to Him; that is, as a mean and instrument to beget and increase His
   divine love in our souls. All adhesion to creatures by affection,
   whether such affection be great or small, is accordingly sinful, more
   or less; so that, if being deprived of anything or persons whatsoever,
   or being pained by anything, we find a trouble and sorrow in our minds
   for the loss or suffering of the thing itself, such trouble, in what
   degree soever, argues that our affection was sinful, not only because
   the affection was excessive, but because it was an affection, the
   object whereof was not God.

   4. But yet withal this affection, which I say is unlawful, is not
   simply such an one as resides and is confined to sensitive nature, for
   that is impossible to be rooted out; neither is there any fault at all
   in it, considered as such. For to Adam in the state of innocency, yea,
   even to our Lord Himself, many objects were pleasing and delightful to
   sense: His sight and taste took contentment in pleasurable objects, and
   there was in nature an aversion from pain, and an earnest desire to
   prolong natural life; and in all this there was not the least
   imperfection. The affections to creatures, therefore, which we affirm
   to be sinful, are such as are seated in the superior soul or rational
   will, by which the mind and will consider and adhere unto creatures,
   and knowingly and willingly pursue the attaining and enjoying of them,
   as if they were the good, not of sense only (for so they are), but of
   the person, which indeed they are not; for the only good of an
   intellectual nature is God, who alone is exalted above it; whereas all
   other creatures are but equal or inferior to it. To the superior will,
   therefore, all things but God must be indifferent as in and for
   themselves, and only to be loved as they are serviceable to the spirit.
   So that if things which are unpleasant, yea, destructive to inferior
   nature, do yet advance the spirit in her tendence to God, or if by the
   will and providence of God they are presented to her to suffer, she
   must with all indifference and resignation accept of them, though
   sensitive nature do never so much struggle and contradict.

   5. A most perfect example hereof is given by our Saviour, which we are
   obliged, to the utmost of our capacity and enablement, to imitate.
   Though sensitive nature in Him took contentment in life, and in the
   actions and functions thereof, and above all things did abhor a
   dissolution by death, especially such a death accompanied with such
   inexpressible torments and shame; and though, for our instruction, He
   voluntarily gave way to inferior nature to express such her innocent
   inclination and aversion, yet, when the will of His Father opposed
   itself; and presented Him a cup in the highest degree mortal to nature
   and all the inclinations thereof, He most willingly, quietly, and
   cheerfully accepted it, then subduing all reluctances in nature; which
   reluctances in Him were to the thing itself considered in itself, and
   not at all to the dictates of the superior soul, the which had so
   absolute a dominion over sensitive nature that it never opposed itself,
   or expressed the least unwillingness to conform itself to the dictates
   of reason, though with its own destruction.

   6. Whereas, therefore, there are continually presented to our outward
   and inward senses infinite objects pleasing and displeasing to them,
   and that the functions of life, which we are bound to preserve, cannot
   be exercised without admitting the use of many things delightful to
   sensitive nature--meats, drinks, recreative conversations, and
   relaxations of mind, &c.--we are to consider and resolve that none of
   these things, pleasing to the appetite, are given to be possessed of
   any affection at all, or fruition, but the mere simple use of them is
   allowed us for the good of the soul, and the contentment that the
   appetite naturally takes in them is no further, nor with other
   intention to be admitted, than inasmuch as thereby the spirit, or
   rational will, is, or may be, enabled more cheerfully to pursue its
   supreme good. And with this end and intention, to admit sometimes with
   caution and discretion, of moderate comforts and contentments to
   inferior nature, is not in itself at all unlawful; on the contrary, it
   is fitting, requisite, and necessary.

   7. But withal, considering the most miserable and inexpressible
   corruption of our nature, the violent adhesion of our appetites to
   sensually pleasing objects, the uncertain and weak dominion that the
   superior faculties of the soul have over sensitive nature, it is our
   duty and obligation, not only to be watchful over the sensitive
   appetite, that it do not with too much greediness pursue the
   contentments proper and necessary to it, but also, as much as may be,
   to abridge the number of them, making as few necessary as may be, and
   not suffering it to accept all the lawful contentments offered to it,
   yea, oft to restrain and contradict the inclinations of it. In a word,
   to use all the industry we can, not to suffer it to run on blindly
   before, or without the conduct of reason, to things pleasing to it; and
   when we perceive it does so, to call it back, however, not to suffer
   reason to favour it and join with it in its desires, but to reserve all
   our rational inclinations and affections to God only.

   8. For the case with us is far different from that it was with Adam
   during his state of innocency. For then it was no inconvenience, but
   rather perhaps a help to him, freely to make use of the pleasures
   afforded him in paradise. Because, though sensual pleasures were to
   him, considering the exquisiteness of his temper, far more pleasurable
   than they can be to us, yet his appetite did not so much as desire or
   wish the least excess; and his spirit was so replenished with divine
   love that, by admitting of such innocent satisfactions to nature, it
   rather increased than diminished or interrupted its fervour in tending
   to God and expressing its gratitude, love, and obedience to Him;
   whereas, we find all the contrary effects, and therefore must take a
   quite contrary course.

   9. This is the ground of mortification, so proper and necessary in a
   spiritual life; and these are the venial sins or imperfections that we
   are continually to combat against. In this point of distinction,
   between the using of creatures for the good of the spirit, and the
   enjoying of creatures for the pleasure of sense, without regard to the
   soul's good and advancement, lies the difference between the children
   of God and the children of Belial. Yea, in the degrees of such using or
   enjoying, between perfect good Christians and imperfect; yea, moreover
   between those that are perfect in an active, and those in a
   contemplative state. For wicked men give way deliberately to an
   habitual enjoying of creatures, without regard to their souls or God,
   yea, contrary to His command. And imperfect good Christians have no
   care to root out of their souls an habitual love to creatures, except
   it be such a love as endangers the soul by expelling charity. And
   lastly, those that are perfect in an active life, for want of a
   constant state of recollection do not enjoy a sufficient light to
   discover how in many things of less importance they give way to sense,
   preventing reason, and enjoying outward contentments without that
   purity of intention which contemplatives, being far less distracted, do
   much more frequently and perfectly exercise.

   10. Now, having mentioned this diversity of venial sins and
   imperfections, before I come to speak further of the mortification here
   intended, I will add some few considerations touching venial sins, with
   relation to a contemplative state.

   11. If it were required to perfection in a contemplative life that a
   soul should be entirely free from venial defects, it would be
   impossible to attain unto it, considering the incurable frailty of our
   nature, the frequency of temptations, and the incapacity which is in a
   soul to be in a continual actual guard over herself. True it is that,
   by perseverance in spiritual prayer, accompanied with mortification,
   such defects become for number more rare, and for quality less
   considerable; but though prayer and mortification should continue never
   so long, a soul will find occasion and a necessity to be in continual
   resistances against her perverse inclinations, and in such combats will
   sometimes come off with loss.

   12. Venial sins, therefore, are not inconsistent with perfection,
   although they should be committed never so oft out of frailty,
   subreption, or ignorance. But if they be committed deliberately,
   advisedly, customarily, and with affection, they render the soul in an
   incapacity of attaining to perfection in prayer, &c. This is a point of
   great moment and consideration, and therefore, that we may distinguish
   aright between sinning out of frailty, surprise, or infirmity, and the
   sinning out of affection to the objects of venial sins, we must know:

   13. First, that those are said to fall into venial sins out of frailty,
   which commit them only when an occasion or temptation unwillingly
   presents itself, and then are surprised with a sudden passion, or
   deprived of sufficient vigilance and reflection, but upon an
   observation of their fault they presently return to themselves, and
   find a remorse and self-condemnation for it, and an aversion (at least
   in their superior will) from such things as hinder their approach unto
   God; or if this be not done presently, however, in their next
   recollection such offences, if they be of any moment, will be brought
   into their minds, and will procure a sorrow, and consequently a pardon
   for them. But when they are out of such occasions or temptations, they
   do not give way to a pleasure conceived in the objects of them, and
   much less do they voluntarily seek or intend such occasions.

   14. Those, in the second place, are said to sin venially out of
   affection, who both before and after such faults do deliberately
   neglect them, yea, and are so far from avoiding the occasions of them
   that they do oft procure them; and this out of affection, not to the
   fault, but to the things which they see do often occasion the fault.
   Such are those that love curiosity in apparel, delicacy of meats,
   hearing of vain discourses, and that contrive meetings of jollity, from
   whence they never escape without incurring many defects. Now such souls
   may perhaps have remorse for the sins so committed, and mention them
   with sorrow in confession; but yet such remorse and confession is not
   from the whole heart, not being sufficient to make them avoid the
   occasions, when this may be done without much inconvenience or trouble.
   Yea, they do not sufficiently consider that the very love unto those
   vanities which occasion greater defects, if it be a deliberate love, is
   in itself a sin, though no other defects were occasioned by it. Such
   can make no progress in spiritual prayer; yea, on the contrary, as long
   as such known voluntary affections, either to the sins or occasions,
   are not mortified, they do every day decline, and grow more and more
   indisposed to prayer; which thereby is so distracted, and so full of
   disquieting remorse, that it is almost impossible to persevere
   constantly in an exercise so very painful.

   15. A hundred imperfections, therefore, though of some more than
   ordinary moment, are not so contrary to perfection whilst they are
   incurred by surprise or infirmity, as is an affection retained to the
   least imperfection, though it be but an unprofitable thought. A
   well-minded and courageous soul, therefore, at her first entrance into
   the internal ways of the spirit, must and does in an instant, cut off
   this deliberate affection to all venial sins and their occasions, with
   discretion seeking to avoid them; although it may happen, without any
   great prejudice to her progress, that she may find herself very oft
   surprised and overcome by many and great faults.

   16. Neither ought any soul vainly to flatter herself with a hope of
   reserving this affection without prejudicing her pretensions to
   perfection, because one or two examples (almost miraculous) are found
   of some souls that, notwithstanding such affections, have been visited
   by God with supernatural favour and exalted to a very sublime prayer,
   as a late eminent saint writes of her own self. [13] For besides that
   there was perhaps some excusable ignorance in her of the unlawfulness
   of such affections, we may say that God was pleased to confer on her
   such extraordinary favours, not so much for her own sake, but rather
   for the good of others, inasmuch as she was destined by Him to be the
   mistress and teacher of true contemplative prayer, then almost unknown
   to the world.

   17. But most certain it is that, according to the ordinary established
   course of Divine Providence, perfection in prayer is accompanied with a
   proportionate perfection in mortification. And therefore such souls as,
   during a voluntary habitual affection to venial sins (as to the objects
   and occasions of them), do seem to have great lights and profound
   recollections in prayer, (if the said lights and recollections do not
   urge and incite them to quit such harmful affection), such ought to
   suspect that all goes not right with them, but may justly fear that the
   devil hath some influence into such devotions, so utterly destitute of
   true mortification.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [13] [St. Teresa makes this acknowledgment of herself in her Life,
   chap. viii.--J. N. S.]
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  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. Naturally we love ourselves only.

   S: 2. Even the best and most composed tempers are deeply guilty of
   self-love.

   S: 3. The benefit of such good dispositions.

   S: 4. Self-love and propriety must universally be avoided.

   S:S: 5, 6. A state of afflictions and crosses alone is secure.

   S: 7. What use is to be made of prosperity.

   S: 8, 9. The great benefits of mortification.

   S: 10. A great courage is necessary to the due practice of
   mortification.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13, 14. The advice of some writers to raise passions, to
   the end afterwards to repress them, is dangerous.

   1. Naturally we love and seek nothing but ourselves in all things,
   whatsoever we love and seek. We are our own last end, referring all
   things, even supernatural--yea, God Himself--to our own interest and
   commodity. We seek things pleasing only to our senses, outward or
   inward, as if the felicity of our souls and persons consisted in
   sensual pleasures, opinion of honour, profit, or curiosity of
   knowledge, &c. Therefore there can be no merit in nature, or actions
   proceeding from nature.

   2. Yea, they who naturally have much interior composedness and
   stillness of passions, and seem not much to be troubled with rebellion
   in sensuality, and that moreover have in them a kind of natural
   devotion, yet even these, whatsoever they appear outwardly in show, are
   full of self-love, which is the principle of all their actions. If they
   love quietness, it is because nature takes a contentment in it; and
   their self-love is more abstruse and more deeply seated in the root of
   the spirit itself; and therefore ofttimes is hard to be cured because
   not so easily discovered. Neither indeed is there any hope of remedy,
   till by prayer they get a light to discover the said secret self-love,
   and grace by mortification to subdue it.

   3. It is true such good natural dispositions may be beneficial to souls
   in two respects especially: 1. in that by means thereof they fall into
   fewer sins than more passionate impetuous natures do, and consequently
   do not put so many impediments to grace. But yet it is to be feared,
   unless they practise prayer and mortification, they will increase in
   spiritual pride; for certain it is that nature not restrained will, one
   way or other, grow more and more inordinate. 2. A second benefit is,
   that such dispositions are better fitted for internal prayer, yea, to
   the perfectest kind of it, which is prayer of aspirations; so that they
   may with less labour get out of nature, elevating themselves to God.

   4. An absolute necessity, therefore, there is for all souls to mortify
   nature, and especially to rectify this general depravedness of
   propriety, by which we are to ourselves our last end, the which is done
   by the infusion of divine charity, by which ourselves are directed to
   God as our last end; and a necessary disposition thereto is the
   mortification of self-love. And thus far all Christians are obliged to
   mortify themselves, namely to cure the mortally sinful disorders of
   their souls. A necessity likewise there is (upon supposition of
   aspiring to perfection) to mortify all deliberate affections to any the
   least venial defects and deordinations of our souls. This duty of
   mortification requires of us that, deliberately and customarily, we
   neither admit into our minds internally vain thoughts, nor outwardly
   speak or exercise acts of vain love, vain hope, vain fear, or vain
   sorrow; and all is vain that is not referred to God, or is not done for
   Him.

   5. Mortification tends to subject the body to the spirit, and the
   spirit to God. And this it does by crossing the inclinations of sense,
   which are quite contrary to those of the Divine Spirit, which ought to
   be our chief and only principle; for by such crossing and afflicting of
   the body, self-love and self-will (the poison of our spirits) are
   abated, and in time in a sort destroyed; and instead of them, there
   enter into the soul the Divine love and Divine will, and take
   possession thereof; and therein consist our perfection and happiness.

   6. For this reason the soul is in a far more secure state when crosses
   and afflictions do exceed worldly contentment and sensual ease; for
   wonderful seldom it happens that a soul makes any progress in a
   spiritual course by means of outward prosperity. Some perfect souls may
   perhaps keep the station in which they are, notwithstanding an easeful,
   contented, and abounding condition in the world; but it is almost
   miraculous if they thereby advance themselves in spirit,--so naturally
   and almost necessarily doth ease of nature nourish self-love, pride,
   security, a spiritual sloth, and a distaste of spiritual things.

   7. Indeed, the only possible way for a soul to make prosperity an
   occasion of improvement in her, is by a voluntary crossing and
   diminishing of it; that is, by taking advantage even from thence to
   mortify nature: as, for example, in case of riches and honours, by
   carrying ourselves both exteriorly and interiorly to God and man with
   more humility and modesty, as if we were not at all in such plenty and
   eminency; also by suppressing vain joy and complacency in such things,
   by acknowledging that we are not lords and proprietaries, but only
   stewards and dispensers of such things, from whom a severe account
   shall be required for the talents intrusted to us for others' sakes,
   not our own. So that it is most true that all the security, solidity,
   and fulness of our souls' good consists in a right use of those things
   which are contrary and afflicting to our nature.

   8. In general, mortification includes the exercise of all virtues; for
   in every act of virtue we mortify some inordinate passion and
   inclination of nature or other; so that to attain to perfect
   mortification is to be possessed of all virtues.

   9. The benefit and blessings that come to our souls by exercising of
   mortification are many and most precious; as, 1. There is thereby
   avoided that sin which otherwise would have been committed. 2. It
   causes a degree of purity to the soul. 3. It procures greater grace and
   spiritual strength. 4. One act of mortification enableth to another;
   as, on the contrary, by yielding any time to our corrupt nature, we are
   enfeebled and less able to resist another time. 5. It diminisheth our
   suffering in purgatory, because so much of suffering is past, and a
   little pain for the present will countervail and prevent sharp and long
   pains for the future. 6. It procures internal light by dispelling and
   calming the unruliness of passions. 7. It produces great peace to the
   soul, the which is disturbed only by unquiet passions. 8. It helpeth
   the soul much in her advancement in spiritual prayer and
   contemplation--the end of all our religious and spiritual exercises. 9.
   It is of great edification to our brethren and neighbours. 10. It
   increaseth all these ways our future happiness and glory.

   10. The duty of mortification being so absolutely necessary and so
   infinitely beneficial, and moreover so largely extended as that it
   reaches to all manner of natural inclinations, insomuch as nothing does
   an imperfect soul any good, further than it is cross and mortifying to
   some inordination in her natural inclinations, it follows from hence
   that a soul that intends to walk in these ways of contemplation had
   need have a great courage, since her design must be to combat her own
   self in all manner of things to which she naturally bears an affection.
   For the maintaining of this courage, therefore, it will behove her both
   to use much prayer, and oft to think seriously on the blessings
   accompanying and following the due practice of it; remembering withal
   that custom will make that tolerable and even pleasant which at first
   seemed insupportable.

   11. More particularly, forasmuch as concerns those that are beginners
   in an internal course, they are to consider that in such a state their
   souls are so full of impurities and defects, that scarce in any actions
   of theirs at all they do intend God purely, no not even in those that
   they perform with most advice and preparation, and with the greatest
   calmness of spirit; much less in actions, though substantially good, in
   which their passions are engaged. Therefore it is best for them during
   such state of imperfection in all times and occasions, as much as lies
   in them, wholly to suppress all passions, not suffering them to rise
   and swell in them, though with an intention by them the better and more
   fervently to perform their duties and obligation. The reason is because
   such imperfect souls, being not as yet masters of their passions,
   cannot prevent them from causing a disorder even in the superior
   rational faculties also; so that though reason can raise them at
   pleasure, yet it cannot so calm them again, nor hinder them from
   pursuing those objects out of motives of corrupt nature, against which
   they were employed at first upon superior and spiritual motives.

   12. I do the more earnestly recommend the practice according to this
   advice, because I find that some good spiritual authors do counsel a
   quite contrary proceeding, as a remedy and means to subdue passions.
   For they would have souls willingly and purposely to raise them in
   sensitive nature, and when they are come to a certain height, then by
   the strength of reason and motives of religion to quiet and pacify them
   again. As for example in case of an injury received, they advise that
   we should call to mind all the circumstances and aggravations that are
   apt to kindle indignation and resentment; and as soon as the passion is
   inflamed, then to suppress it by considerations of the example of our
   Lord, and His precept of charity to enemies, of the dangerous effects
   of revenge, and the blessed rewards of patience, &c. The like they say
   concerning a sensual desire to any object, they would have it
   represented with all its allurements and charms, so as to move a strong
   inclination in sensitive nature, and this being done, presently to
   suppress such inclinations by strong resolutions and by contrary
   practices. Only they forbid this practice in the passion of sensual
   impurity, which must not be revived upon any pretence whatsoever.

   13. To perfect souls this advice may be proper, who have an established
   dominion over their passions; but as to the imperfect, if they should
   conform themselves to it, two great inconveniences could scarce be
   prevented, viz.: 1. that they would be in danger either to be unwilling
   or unable to restore peace unto their minds once much disquieted; 2. by
   an advised and earnest representation of such objects as do raise
   passions in their minds, they do thereby fix more firmly in the memory
   the images of them, and by that means do dispose the said images to
   return at other times against their wills, when perhaps the reasons and
   motives to repress them will either not be ready, or the soul in no
   disposition to make use of them; or if she should be willing it is to
   be doubted that then such motives will not prove efficacious. Therefore
   imperfect souls may do best to deal with all passions as they ought
   with those of impurity, namely, to get the mastery over them by flying
   from them, and, if they can, forgetting them.

   14. Yet this advice of preventing all passions and disturbances in
   sensitive nature may sometimes cease, when just reason and the
   necessary care of the good of others shall require that some things be
   done with eagerness, as it may happen in the case of superiors
   correcting their subjects, &c.; for then it may be convenient to give
   some discreet way to passion, without which their reproofs would
   perhaps have but little effect. Yet even then also care is to be had
   that they do not thereby prejudice their own internal quiet of mind,
   and much less endanger to diminish true charity.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S: 1. Certain general rules for mortification sufficient for some.

   S:S: 2, 3. By practice, according to these rules, is exercised: 1. a
   continual presence of God; 2. a continual thinking on our own nothing.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7. Mortification is only perfectly exercised in virtue of
   internal prayer. And why?

   S: 8. The difference between the mortification of contemplatives and of
   active livers.

   S: 9. External practices or exercises of virtues not sufficient to
   cause mortification.

   S: 10. How imperfect souls are to practise mortification.

   S: 11. God's care in dispensing matters of mortification proportionable
   to each one's strength.

   S: 12. The effect of each act of mortification.

   S:S: 13, 14. It may happen to an internal liver (in religion) some
   mortifications may be more difficult than if he had lived a common life
   in the world.

   1. To discreet well-minded souls these three following general
   directions may be sufficient to instruct them in the duties of
   mortification, viz.: 1. to do or forbear whatsoever any law, divine or
   human, shall require of them to do or forbear. And where order has been
   taken by no such laws, there to follow the supernatural light and
   motions that God, by the means of prayer, shall afford them; doing or
   forbearing such things as they find will promote or hinder them in
   their spiritual course, without captivating themselves to any
   particular examples, customs, or instructions. 2. To suffer with the
   best patience and resignation they can all the crosses and
   contradictions to self-will which by God's providence shall be sent to
   or upon them; whether such crosses regard external things, as injuries,
   disgraces, sickness, loss of friends, or of goods, &c., or internal, as
   aridities, obscurities, inward distresses, involuntary rising of
   passions, temptations, &c. All these things must be quietly suffered,
   whether they proceed immediately from God or from creatures. 3. If
   anything pleasing to nature be to be done, as in refections,
   recreations, &c., or anything displeasing to be omitted, to do or omit
   such things, not because they are agreeable to nature, but because they
   are conformable to God's will. By a constant and careful observing of
   these directions, a devout soul may be brought to a good established
   state of mortification, and yet withal be left in a convenient liberty
   and ease of mind to go on cheerfully in internal ways.

   2. Moreover, if in practice according to these points a well-minded
   soul will be careful to have at least a virtual intention to the love
   and glory of God (that is, such an intention as follows in virtue of a
   precedent actual intention made in prayer, &c.), in so doing she shall
   perform, after the best and securest way, the exercise of the continual
   presence of God (so much commended by spiritual authors), and
   particularly by our holy Father, in the first degree of humility. By
   the which exercise surely it cannot be intended that a soul should be
   obliged to have continually an actual remembrance of God; for this,
   being the same with actual internal prayer, would so much endamage the
   heads of imperfect souls especially, that they would quickly be
   disabled from making any progress in spirit.

   3. The same practice likewise doth, after the securest manner, supply
   that other exercise (oft recommended) of a continual thinking of our
   own nothing; for by conformity to the aforesaid directions, propriety
   and self-will (by the which alone we would fain seem to be something
   more than we are or ought to be) are not only in thought, imagination,
   or desire of mind, but really and effectually abandoned, and the
   inordinate affections of the soul mortified and annihilated. And it is
   only for this end that the said exercise is so much magnified. In a
   word, by such practices, joined with an intention to the glory of God
   and His divine love, a soul will be very well disposed to the most
   perfect prayer of contemplation.

   4. Such a world there is of conditions and circumstances required to
   the perfection of every action, both touching the substance, manner,
   motive, principle, and end thereof, and corrupt nature is so subtle to
   insinuate her own interests, seeking them in everything we do, and
   persuading us that we renounce propriety even when we most earnestly
   intend it, that without an extraordinary light from God (to be obtained
   only by spiritual prayer) we cannot discover the inclinations of our
   own hearts; and the reason why this light can be had only by prayer is,
   because then alone every the least defect and most secret suggestion
   hinders our view and contemplation of God and our tendence to Him, and
   by consequence is easily discernible as being set between our eyes and
   the sun. Whereas, in our ordinary vocal prayers and external good
   actions, only greater temptations are able perceptibly to distract us.

   5. Those, therefore, that do not pursue internal prayer can only so far
   mortify their passions that they break not forth into outward
   expressions or actions. But the evil root remains still alive, causing
   inward disorders very displeasing to God.

   6. As for crosses and adversities which a soul undergoes out of the
   strength of reason, and not in virtue of divine grace and prayer, the
   chief effect of them is only to vex and trouble nature, or at most they
   serve to mortify the superabundant activity and vigour of the internal
   senses and natural affections, by which means the persons may become
   more judicious, prudent, and temperate; but they pierce not to the
   spirit itself, to cause any purity therein, or really to diminish
   self-love. Moreover, the like crosses, undergone by virtue of such a
   common grace as ordinary good extroverted Christians do enjoy, though
   they may be helpful to prevent the mortally poisonous effects of
   self-love which is in us, yet are far from expelling that secret
   self-love which lurks in the inmost centre of our souls; so that they
   may remain grievously full of stains and infirmities, and the divine
   love feeble and easy to be extinguished, notwithstanding the effects of
   such crosses.

   7. Whereas difficulties undergone by virtue of grace obtained by
   internal prayer, do, as it were, scour and purify the spirit itself
   from the rust of inordinate affections, and so do spiritualise all the
   faculties of the soul, causing it to become a pure spirit, exalted and
   separated from sensible objects and all adhesion to them, from which
   all vicious impurity proceeds. This is that division of the soul and
   spirit mentioned by St. Paul, by which the pure spirit works as a
   spirit, not obscured nor infected with sensual ends and interests.

   8. The way of mortification, therefore, practised by internal
   contemplative livers is different from that of active, though living in
   a religious state, and well advanced in active exercises; for these
   endeavour to mortify their inordinate affections by combating them
   purposely and directly, to wit, by meditating discursively on the
   motives afforded by Christian doctrine to oppose them, as a
   consideration of their deformity, danger, &c.; and also by exercising
   an act of virtue contrary thereto, so repressing the inordinate
   passion. Whereas contemplative souls do indirectly, yet far more
   efficaciously, mortify their passions by transcending them, that is, by
   elevating and uniting their spirit to God, with the help of pure
   intellectual actuations; by this means forgetting and drowning both
   their sensual desires, yea, all created things, and chiefly themselves
   in God; so that in a temptation they do not turn themselves towards the
   object, to the end to resist and contradict it, but by a vigorous act
   of resignation and love they convert their spirits unto God, scorning
   even to cast a regard or glance upon creatures that would allure their
   affections from God, and which cannot be considered, except in God,
   without leaving some tincture and imperfection in the soul.

   9. It is not, therefore, the external practice of virtues, nor much
   less customary frequent confessions, communions, obediences,
   austerities, &c., but pure spiritual prayer, and the sublime degrees of
   it (to wit, aspirations, pure elevations of the will, and other such
   divine operations), that must be the principal instrument to bring a
   soul to a state of perfect freedom from exterior and interior
   immortification; for by such operations only she is enabled to
   transcend inferior nature, and to live in the quiet, secure, and
   illuminated region of the spirit.

   10. But in the mean time, till a devout soul do attain to such
   perfection of prayer, she must be content to work according to her
   present light and enablement, so endeavouring to correct her defects by
   less perfect exercises, and such as partake of the active way; and she
   must, with patience and quietness of spirit, bear with her own
   imperfections as she would with others', expecting God's good time, and
   endeavouring to hasten the approach of that time by assiduous prayer,
   by means of which alone she may come to expel those defects which do
   now so much exercise and trouble her, and also to discover and correct
   many others which as yet her eyes are too infirm and dim to see.

   11. Indeed, the provident care that God generally hath over His
   children, both perfect and imperfect, is wonderful, being carefully
   suited to their present state; for He does not usually send to
   imperfect souls any mortifications but such as are ordinary and
   proportionable to their infirmity, namely, such as do gall and afflict
   their sensitive nature, but do not pierce into the quick and centre of
   the spirit, that remains free to support the other. But as for souls
   arrived to the state of perfection, or near it, God doth usually
   provide for them strange inexpressible mortifications, most subtle
   temptations, privations, and desolations, the which, being worthily
   undergone, do wonderfully purify the spirit. The former mortifications
   St. Paul expresses thus: There hath no temptation taken you but such as
   is according to ordinary human nature,' &c.; but the latter thus: Our
   wrestling is not against flesh and blood (the usual temptations of
   God's imperfect children), but against principalities and powers,
   against the governors of the darkness of this world, against spiritual
   wickedness in high places (or things).'

   12. Every act of mortification performed by virtue of internal prayer
   doth increase in us the grace of God, and dispose us to a more perfect
   future prayer; as, on the contrary, every act of immortification doth
   increase in us self-love, and doth make us more indisposed for future
   internal prayer. Again, prayer enables us for future mortifications,
   teaching us how to undertake and support them. So that these duties
   must never be separated. These contain all that an internal liver is
   obliged to.

   13. I will conclude this discourse concerning mortification in gross
   with one observation, which may serve for a caution to a well-minded
   soul that lives an internal life to prevent an inconvenience which
   otherwise might perhaps surprise her. It is this: that it may happen
   that religious or spiritual persons will find a greater difficulty in
   mortifying and renouncing some sensual contentments after they have
   entered into a spiritual course than they formerly found whilst they
   led an extroverted secular life in the world. Now this happening to
   them may perhaps suggest either scrupulous or at least disquieting
   thoughts, as if the change that they have made were not for the better,
   or as if something (they well know not what) were amiss with them; but
   if they will well consider of the matter, they will find that this is
   no strange thing, nor deserving that they should much trouble
   themselves about it.

   14. For the reasons hereof are: 1. Because if such an one had not
   pursued an internal life, he would have perhaps enabled himself to quit
   one pleasure by diverting himself from thence to some other, which
   would have recompensed and satisfied for that loss, taking away the
   present difficulty; whereas, in a spiritual life, a soul having in
   resolution abandoned all sensual pleasures, as such, that can be
   abandoned, she cannot recompense the bitterness found in mortifying one
   by a deliberate yielding to another, the pleasure felt in enjoying
   whereof might make her less sensible of the loss of the other. 2.
   Again, an imperfect soul will judge it necessary for the sustaining of
   corporal infirmity, and to prevent an uncheerful discontented habit of
   mind, to allow unto herself some contentments recreative to sense; and
   therefore, when such are denied her, she will be apt to be impatient,
   or if she endeavour to contradict and resist such impatience of nature,
   she will do it more feebly and faintly. 3. Because it is impossible
   that a soul can live and not take pleasure in something or other that
   affords contentment either to the sense or the spirit. Now a spiritual
   person being yet in an imperfect state has but little present sensible
   pleasure in the exercises proper to his way, except God now and then
   visit him with sensible devotion, for the chief pleasure that
   spirituality affords is in hope only, and that without any regard to
   the body--it regards the spirit alone. Now hope is not so attractive as
   present sensual contentment is. 4. Besides all this, such a soul, not
   having yet chased out of the superior faculties all affection to
   sensual pleasure, and finding for the present little or nothing but
   pain in all her exercises, both of mortification and prayer, no marvel
   if, when pleasure sometimes comes in her way, that she finds difficulty
   in rejecting it. Indeed, the greatest pain comes not from the
   particular objects of mortification, but rather from tediousness and
   irksomeness in being continually in a condition of suffering which she
   judges must last till her life's end. This is very painful to an
   imperfect soul; but yet, by a constant practice of mortification and
   prayer, she will find daily an abatement of this tediousness, and, in
   the end, the renouncing of all contentments of sense and nature for
   themselves will become easy and pleasurable to her. 5. Lastly, such a
   soul is to consider that it is a proof of God's goodness to her to
   suffer her to feel so much difficulty now, not experienced before, to
   the end to humble her, and to teach her not at all to rely upon
   herself, nor to promise herself the least good from her own forces.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Mortifications divided into: 1. Necessary, and 2.
   Voluntary. And what each of these is.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8, 9. Extraordinary or supernumerary mortifications are not
   to be assumed without great advice. They are seldom allowed in the rule
   of St. Benedict.

   S:S: 10, 11. The advice of some, that we should always in everything be
   crossing our natural inclinations, dangerous.

   S:S: 12, 13. The inconveniences of extraordinary mortifications
   unadvisedly assumed.

   S:S: 14, 15. What extraordinary ones are least dangerous.

   S: 16. Signs by which to discern when such are proper and beneficial.

   S: 17. Generally speaking there is little need that extraordinary
   mortifications should be assumed.

   1. Having spoken in general of mortification, come we now to the
   division and kinds of it; and the most general division of
   mortification is into those which are: 1. necessary; 2. voluntary. This
   is a division of which we shall have great use through this whole
   treatise, and therefore it deserves to be explained more distinctly and
   accurately.

   2. First, therefore, within the notion of necessary mortifications are
   comprehended: 1. not only such crosses and afflictions to nature as we
   cannot, though we would, avoid, whether they be external or internal,
   as sickness, want, disgraces, loss of friends, temptations,
   desolations, &c. (the which, indeed, are the most proper and beneficial
   mortifications of all other, as being sent or suffered to come upon us
   by the most wise and good providence of God for our good); 2. but those
   also that we do or suffer by virtue of our assumed state of life,
   either by occasion of any law or human constitution, or by obedience
   and subjection to our superiors, conversation with our equals,
   inferiors, &c.; 3. those also that we undertake by the direction of our
   confessarius or spiritual guide (to whom, notwithstanding, our
   obedience is but voluntary, being to last only as long as we think
   good); 4. those works that true discretion requires of us, and which to
   leave undone, or to do contrary, would be against prudence; 5.
   likewise, whatsoever it befalls us to suffer from any creature
   whatsoever, not excepting the devil himself, yea, though it were by our
   own fault that such things happened to us, or were brought upon us; 6.
   lastly, those things that we accept willingly of, by virtue of an
   interior divine impulse, with the approbation of our spiritual father.

   3. Secondly, on the other side, voluntary mortifications are such as on
   our own heads, and without the advice and judgment of those that are
   acquainted with our interior, we voluntarily assume or impose on
   ourselves, either because we have seen or read of others that have done
   the like, and thereupon, without further due consideration of our own
   state or abilities, we will hope they will advance us as much in the
   way of perfection: such are the voluntary corporal fasts beyond what
   the Church or regular observance do require, wearing of haircloth,
   chains, &c., obstinate silence during the times that the orders of the
   community do appoint conversations, &c. To these may be added an
   assuming of the task of saying so many vocal prayers, rosaries, &c.

   4. This distinction being premised, the devout reader is to take notice
   that whatsoever hitherto hath or shall be spoken of the use, end, and
   benefits of mortification is to be understood and applied only to
   mortifications of necessity, and not to such as are voluntary; and,
   moreover, that all these instructions and directions are intended only
   for such souls (whether religious or others) as are entered (or
   desirous to enter) into an internal course, tending to contemplation.

   5. As touching, therefore, the former sort of necessary mortifications,
   according to the whole latitude before expressed, a devout soul is to
   be exhorted (as being her duty and obligation) with all courage and
   fervour to accept and cheerfully undergo them, considering that,
   besides the forementioned inestimable benefits attending them, they are
   of great security, free from all peril of error, indiscretion, or
   pride.

   6. But as for voluntary mortifications (those I mean which are properly
   such) we have nothing to do with them, yea, moreover, I should never
   persuade a spiritual disciple to assume any considerable mortifications
   besides such as attend his present state of life, till he can assure
   himself that he has a good call to them; that is, till after that
   having spent a considerable time in internal prayer, he have received
   light to judge of their fitness for him, and grace or spiritual
   strength to undertake and pursue them cheerfully, and withal has the
   approbation of his superior or spiritual director. Yea, though he had a
   body as strong as Samson, and withal a very good inclination to
   internal ways, I should hardly be the first proposer, mover, and
   inciter of him to extraordinary mortifications, unless some special
   occasion required them for a remedy against any special temptations
   then assaulting him; in which case they are not indeed to be esteemed
   extraordinary and voluntary (although supernumerary), but, considering
   the present state, ordinary and necessary. Yea, and if such an one
   should ask my counsel about the use of such mortifications, and upon
   examination I should find it to be doubtful whether it was upon a
   Divine inspiration that he was moved to desire them, I should take the
   surer course, that is, to dissuade him from the undertaking of them.

   7. It is true we find in reading the lives of saints that most of them
   have practised them, and many even from their infancy. But this shows
   that spirits fit for extraordinary mortifications are rarely to be
   found, being only such as God Himself leads after an extraordinary
   manner, to make them examples of the power of His grace, to the
   edification of many, using them for His instruments in great works. As
   for us, we are not to suppose that God esteems us fit, or intends us
   for such extraordinary matters. Therefore it may suffice us to undergo
   such mortifications as God Himself has provided for us, believing Him
   to know what is best for us and most proportionable.

   8. In all our holy [71]Rule there is no provision or order made for
   such extraordinary or supernumerary mortifications, but only (in the
   49th chapter) about diet and in the time of Lent, &c. And then it is
   forbidden to undertake such without the approbation of the superior,
   the neglect of which approbation is imputed to rashness. For our holy
   Father, as he knew the inestimable benefit of mortifications which come
   from God, and therefore he is exact in requiring conformity to the
   austerities commanded in the [72]Rule; so, on the other side, was he
   not ignorant of the great inconveniences that probably attend the
   undertaking such extraordinary ones by imperfect souls, which are
   commonly induced thereto merely out of a fancy, humour, or sudden
   passion; for such are seldom attended with any blessing from God, who
   neither is obliged nor ordinarily will bestow His grace and spiritual
   strength for the undergoing of any mortifications but such as are sent
   by Him, or evidently ordained by His inspiration; and experience
   witnesses this, because we seldom see souls to persevere in those which
   they assume by their own free election, and while they perform them it
   is with little or no purity of intention; hereupon it is that our holy
   Father expressly declares that the Divine inspiration and grace is to
   be acknowledged the root of all religious voluntary austerities, by
   those words of his (chapter 40), Quibus donat Deus tolerantiam
   abstinentiae; that is, To whom God hath given the courage or strength
   to suffer extraordinary abstinence, adding withal, that such voluntary
   abstinences must be offered to God (cum gaudio Sancti Spiritus) with
   joy of the Holy Ghost.

   9. Great caution, therefore, is to be used in the reading and making
   use of instructions and examples found, especially concerning this
   point, in spiritual books; because otherwise a soul will be in danger
   to plunge herself into great inconveniences and difficulties; for
   whilst she does imitate such extraordinary practices, it is to be
   feared, being yet imperfect, she will entertain a proud conceit of
   herself, and not receiving grace to persevere, she will be apt to draw
   from thence matter of scrupulosity and dejection, so far as perhaps to
   become disheartened from further tendence in the ways of the spirit.
   Yea, such a soul will be liable to contract thereby an obscurity in her
   understanding (especially if she be unlearned), by which she will
   become disabled to distinguish necessary mortifications from voluntary.

   10. It is a very hard, and to many souls would prove a dangerous,
   advice, which some spiritual authors give, viz. that a spiritual
   disciple should in everything that is of itself indifferent (in case
   that several objects be offered to choice) take that which is most
   contrary to his natural inclination; as if many several dishes were set
   before us, to eat only that which we least like, &c., and thus to live
   in a continual contradiction and crossing of nature.

   11. Surely no souls but such as are in a good measure perfect are
   capable of making good use of such advices, for only such can with
   facility, discretion, and profit, practise them; as for the less
   perfect, if they practise them with any willingness, it is to be feared
   that the true ground is because thereby they do covertly comply with
   nature some other way, nourishing self-esteem, contempt of others not
   so courageous, nor affording so great edification, &c.

   12. It were folly and inexcusable pride for souls not diligently and
   faithfully pursuing internal prayer, and not yet perfectly practising
   patience and resignation in crosses and necessary mortifications sent
   by God, or attending their present condition of life, to attempt the
   undertaking of those which belong not to them, but are merely devised
   by themselves; for, wanting a Divine light, how can they perceive or
   judge them to be proper for them? And if they be unable to encounter
   difficulties which are ordinary and necessary, why should they think
   themselves prepared for extraordinary ones? So that there is nothing
   which makes these to be supportable, but only that they proceed from
   self-judgment and self-will, and by consequence are more pleasing than
   distasteful to nature.

   13. The inconveniences attending the indiscreet passionate use of such
   mortifications are much greater in an internal life tending to
   contemplation than in an active, because liberty of spirit is much more
   necessary in the former than in this latter, which liberty is extremely
   prejudiced by such unnecessary obligations and fetters laid by a soul
   upon herself.

   14. And for this reason the supernumerary mortifications which may
   prove more useful, and which are least prejudicial to this liberty, are
   those that least work upon the mind; as corporal labours, not of
   obligation, are more beneficial than the overmultiplying of voluntary
   vocal prayers, the practice whereof will probably prejudice the true
   exercise, not only of internal recollections, but also of such vocal
   prayers as are of obligation. And of all others, the most beneficial
   are those that regard not-doing, as more silence, more solitude, &c.,
   than a person by regular ordinances is obliged to. Such mortifications
   as these, if the person use discretion and abstain from imposing on
   himself an obliging necessity, may sometimes be profitably undertaken
   by more imperfect souls.

   15. I do not, therefore, wholly exclude even imperfect souls from the
   use of extraordinary mortifications, for such may be God's will that
   they may undertake them; and upon that supposition most certain it is
   that they will much hasten their advancement to perfection; as he that
   runs, if he be able to hold on, will sooner come to his journey's end
   than he that contents himself with an ordinary travelling pace. But if
   indiscreetly he will force himself to run beyond his breath and
   strength, that advantage which he got for a little while will not
   countervail the loss he sustains afterward.

   16. Now the signs and marks by which a soul may inform herself whether
   the extraordinary mortifications assumed by her do proceed from a safe
   and good principle, that is, from a Divine motive, and not an impulse
   of nature and passion, may be these. She may esteem them to come from
   God: 1. if she bear herself well in the ordinary mortifications of
   necessity, supporting cheerfully and courageously both the usual
   austerities of her religious state and also all accidental crosses; 2.
   in case it be with the advice and approbation of her spiritual
   director, that is skilful in discerning spirits; 3. if the soul in the
   continuance of it find a cheerfulness and resoluteness--for if there
   follow any discontentedness or melancholy, that is a very ill sign; 4.
   if the occasion of undertaking it was a quiet, constant, internal
   invitation, and not some sudden humour of passion, remorse, or some fit
   of sensible devotion, or an ambition to imitate others, &c., especially
   if the matter of the mortification have any peril in it to corporal
   health, &c., for then the impulse to undertake it had need be very
   certain and strong; 5. if by perseverance in it the virtue of humility
   be increased; 6. lastly, if it dispose the soul to better recollection
   and to a greater constancy and fervour in prayer.

   17. But to conclude this point: there are very few that need complain
   of want of mortifications, or that are put to a necessity of seeking
   them. All observances whatsoever, even the least that are practised in
   religion, or in the submission to a spiritual director, and much more
   all contradictions, humiliations, and penances, are profitable
   mortifications. Yea, even the acts of authority practised by superiors,
   if they be done (not out of nature, or a love of commanding, but) in
   obedience to the [73]Rule, and with a foresight that God will expect an
   account concerning them, are such also. And if all these be too little,
   a faithful pursuance of internal prayer, together with abstraction of
   life, will sufficiently abate nature, and will, no doubt (generally
   speaking), be effectual to bring souls to perfection, if they live out
   their due time; and if not, yet death, finding them in the right way,
   will bring them to their desired end. And, lastly, such is the care and
   tenderness of God towards souls that truly and cordially consecrate
   themselves to Him, that if these mortifications be not sufficient, He
   will by a special providence procure others, and such as shall be most
   proper. Yea, a very sublime mystic author confidently protesteth, that
   rather than such a soul shall receive prejudice by the want of them,
   God will by a miracle immediately provide them, or by a supernatural
   light and forcible impulse direct and move her to find them.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   S: 1. Of certain sorts of mortification which are more general.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4. The first is abstraction of life. Wherein it consists,
   &c.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The second is solitude. Several
   kinds of solitude. The benefits of it, and the means to procure it. The
   strictness of St. Benedict's [74]Rule in requiring it. Perfect solitude
   is only for such as are perfect.

   1. After this general distinction of mortifications, before we come to
   the special kinds regarding the several passions or affections of the
   soul to be mortified (for indeed the only subject of mortification are
   our affections, and not any other faculties but only in order to our
   affections), I will briefly set down more universal and unlimited
   mortifications, that is, such as regard not any one single passion, but
   many; yea, either the whole person, or some member that is the
   instrument of many passions, as the tongue. Such indefinite
   mortifications are these: 1. abstraction of life; 2. solitude; 3.
   silence; 4. peace, or tranquillity of mind.

   2. First, therefore, for abstraction; the duty thereof consists in
   this, that we abstain: 1. from intermeddling with things not pertaining
   to us; and 2. for such things as belong to us to do, that we do them
   with a reservedness of our affections, not pouring them out upon them
   (being due only to God Himself). Yet this does not hinder us from doing
   our duty with a sufficient attention and care. 3. That we not only
   relinquish all unnecessary conversations and correspondences,
   complimental visits, &c., but likewise all engagement of affections in
   particular friendships. This last is necessary in religious
   communities, because from such friendships proceed partialities,
   factions, murmurings, and most dangerous distractions and multiplicity;
   for the avoiding whereof it is very requisite that the allowed
   conversations should be performed in common, for from the singling out
   of persons by two or three in a meeting, will flow personal
   engagements, designs, divided from the rest of the community,
   discourses tending to the prejudice of others, &c.

   3. The true ground of the necessity of abstraction is this, because the
   Divine union in spirit (which is the end of an internal liver) cannot
   be attained without an exclusion of all other inferior strange images
   and affections; therefore, by the means of abstraction, the soul is
   obliged to bring herself to as much unity, vacancy, and simplicity as
   may be. For this end a religious soul leaves the world, and if she
   practise not abstraction in religion, she does as good as return to
   that which by profession she has renounced. To this purpose is that
   sentence of the Wise man: Sapientia in tempore vacuitatis, et qui
   minoratur actu, sapientiam percipiet; that is, Wisdom is found in a
   state of vacancy, and he that diminishes external employments shall
   attain unto her' (Ecclus. xxxviii. 25).

   4. I shall in the next treatise speak more on this subject, especially
   giving advices how an internal liver may without prejudice to his
   recollections behave himself in distractive employments and offices
   imposed on him, and therefore I will say no more here.

   5. The next general mortification is solitude, which differs from
   abstraction only in this, that solitude regards the exterior, as
   abstraction does the interior; abstraction being an internal solitude
   of the spirit, and solitude an external abstraction of the person.
   Abstraction may by fervent souls be practised in the midst of the noise
   and trouble of the world, preserving themselves from all engagement of
   their affections in businesses or to persons, and ever remaining free
   to attend unto God. And on the contrary, some souls, even in the most
   retired external solitude, do wholly plunge their minds and affections
   in thoughts and solicitudes about persons and businesses abroad, by
   continual endless writing and answering letters, giving advices,
   inquiring after news, &c.; by which means they do more embroil their
   minds, and are less capable of spiritual conversation with God than
   many that live in the world, by reason that their retired state keeping
   them in ignorance and uncertainty about the success of their advices
   and correspondences, they are in a continual solicitude about anything
   but their own souls.

   6. So that if with external solitude there be not joined internal
   abstraction and prayer, it is rather a hindrance than an instrument of
   advancing spiritual perfection. Because such a soul is moreover always
   at leisure to attend to the object of her solicitudes, and so roots
   more fixedly all internal deordinations of faction, anger, pride,
   self-love, &c. Hence we see that factions grow sometimes to a great
   violence in many retired communities, because of the vacancy there to
   attend to them, the objects of their passions likewise being, in a
   manner, continually present before their eyes.

   7. There is another, which may be called a philosophical solitude, made
   use of by religious persons, not with a design the more freely to seek
   God, but to attend to their studies and the enriching their minds with
   much knowledge. Indeed, study and reading used with discretion, and if
   the matters about which study is employed be not such as are apt to
   puff up the mind with pride, or a forwardness to dispute and maintain
   topical opinions, &c., may be no inconvenient diversion for a
   contemplative spirit, especially since that manual labours have been
   disused; but otherwise an inward affection to curiosity of knowledge is
   perhaps (coeteris paribus) more prejudicial to contemplation, and
   produces effects more hurtful to the soul, because more deeply rooted
   in the spirit itself than some sensual affections.

   8. The solitude, therefore, here recommended, and which is proper to a
   religious life, consists in a serious affection to our cell, at all
   times when conventual duties do not require the contrary; and there
   admitting no conversation but God's, or no employment but for God. Keep
   thy cell, saith an ancient holy Father, and thy cell will teach thee
   all things. A soul that by using at first a little violence shall bring
   herself to a love of this solitude, and that shall therefore love it
   because there she may more freely and intimately converse with God, it
   is incredible what progress she will make in internal ways; whereas,
   from a neglect of such solitude, nothing proceeds but tepidity, sensual
   designs, &c.

   9. Now to the end that solitude may in the beginning become less
   tedious and afterwards delightful, religious persons not only may, but
   ought to, preserve a convenient and discreet liberty of spirit about
   their employments and entertainments of their minds in private,
   prudently using a variety in them, changing any one, when it becomes
   over-burdensome, into another more grateful; sometimes reading,
   sometimes writing, other times working, often praying; yea, if they
   shall find it convenient, sometimes remaining for a short space in a
   kind of cessation from all, both external and internal working, yet
   ever being at least in a virtual attention and tendence to God,
   referring all to Him and His glory. For so they can truly say with the
   Psalmist (Fortitudinem meam ad te custodiam), I will reserve my
   principal strength to be employed for Thee, O my God;' all other
   employments (not of obligation) are both for the manner and measure to
   be ordered as shall be most commodious for the spirit, that it may come
   with cheerfulness and an appetite to the appointed recollections.
   Suitable hereto is the counsel given by an ancient holy hermit to one
   of his brethren, demanding to what he should apply himself in times out
   of prayer; he answered, Whatsoever thy mind according to God shall bid
   thee do, that do thou.' And indeed, after a reasonable time well spent
   in solitude, by the help of internal prayer, a soul will receive a
   Divine light, by which she will clearly see what shall be most
   convenient and proper for her at all times to do.

   10. Notwithstanding, this caution is to be used, that if in any
   employment a soul does find herself carried to it with too much
   eagerness and affection, she is to qualify such eagerness by forbearing
   and a while interrupting her present exercise, with a resignation of
   her will to be quite debarred from it, if such be God's will for her
   good, and actually referring it to God.

   11. It is very remarkable the great and studious care that our holy
   Father in his [75]Rule takes to recommend solitude, and to show the
   necessity of it, as likewise to imprint deeply in the minds of his
   disciples not only a great aversion but even a fear and horror of the
   world. All things must be provided and executed within doors (ut non
   sit necessitas evagandi), that no necessity may force the religious to
   be gadding abroad. And in case there should be an unavoidable necessity
   thereto, prayers are appointed to be made for those that are to go
   abroad, and the like when they return home; whither, when they come,
   they are strictly forbidden to tell any news of their journey. All
   this, as if by only stepping out of their inclosure they were exposed
   to immediate peril, and that it were not possible to have been in the
   world without contracting such stains, as that for the washing them
   away, public prayers of the community were needful. Such was the care
   expressed by our holy patriarch, who by his own experience had learned
   the wonderful benefit and extreme necessity of solitude for the
   attaining to contemplation, according to that of the prophet, by whose
   mouth God says (Osee ii. 14), Ducam eam in solitudinem, et loquar ad
   cor illius; that is, I will lead the devout soul into a solitary place,
   and there I will speak words of kindness and intimacy to her spirit.'
   And to the same purpose another prophet saith (Lament. iii. 28),
   Sedebit solitarius et tacebit quia levavit se super se: The solitary
   person will sit still and hold his peace, because he hath raised up his
   spirit above himself' (and all creatures).

   12. Indeed, whatsoever spiritual employment a soul hath, and whensoever
   she desires to have any conversation with God, solitude is the state
   most proper for it, whether it be to bewail her sins, to exercise
   penance, to meditate on the Holy Scriptures, to prepare herself for any
   employment, but especially to exercise spiritual prayer freely. Thither
   most of the ancient saints, yea, many holy bishops, oft retired
   themselves; because they knew that in solitude God's dwelling was
   especially fixed; and after a free, immediate, and inexpressible
   communion with Him there, they returned more enabled and enlightened to
   discharge the solicitous duties of their callings.

   13. But absolute solitude (such as was that of ancient hermits) was
   never permitted to souls till after a sufficient time spent in the
   exercise of a coenobitical life (except to a very few miraculously
   called thereto out of the world, as St. Anthony, St. Hilarion, our holy
   Father [76]St. Benedict, &c.); because a wonderful firmness of mind,
   confidence in God, purity of soul, &c., are requisite to him that
   without the comfort and assistance of any shall oppose himself single
   to the devil's assaults, which in such a solitude are more furious; and
   likewise an unusual measure of spiritual light is needful to such a
   soul, to enable her to be her own director and disposer in all things.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VII.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. The third kind of general
   mortification is silence; the which is strictly enjoined in St.
   Benedict's [77]Rule. But in these days cannot so rigorously be
   observed; and why? The conditions of it.

   S:S: 12, 13, 14, 15. Of recreations now permitted.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18. Conditions to be observed in conferences.

   S:S: 19, 20. Of melancholic dispositions; and how they are to be
   treated.

   1. The third general kind of mortification is silence, which is one of
   the most profitable mortifications in a spiritual life, preventing a
   world of inconceivably pernicious damages which the spirit of devotion
   and recollection receives by the superfluity and intemperance of the
   tongue: the ordinary subject of unnecessary conversations being
   murmurings, detraction, at least vain and distractive disputes,
   professions of friendships, news, &c. Upon the guard of the tongue
   (saith the Wise man) depends life and death; and whosoever accounts
   himself religious and refrains not his tongue, that man's religion is
   vain, saith St. James; of such infinite importance is the well-ordering
   of so small a member--and this even in the world, much more therefore
   in religion.

   2. Hereupon our holy Father deals with his disciples as God did with a
   certain devout and holy monk, to whom He left no power at all to use
   his tongue but only for prayer in the community, being absolutely dumb
   on all other occasions and times. For in our holy [78]Rule there seems
   no permission allowed to particular religious for any voluntary or
   recreative discourses at any times; no, not to superiors themselves.
   And for spiritual discourses by way of teaching, those were only
   allowed to the abbots, or to certain seniors and officers by the
   abbot's express appointment or leave. And when there happened a
   necessity that an answer should be given by any of the private
   religious, they were to deliver it as briefly as was possible--if yea
   or nay would serve the turn, they must add no more. And it seems
   answering only was permitted--not asking of questions, except when
   necessary business required.

   3. But in these latter days superiors have conceived themselves obliged
   to remit much of this rigorous silence, not only permitting, but even
   appointing set times for recreative conversations and entertainments;
   therein complying with the indispositions and general infirmity either
   of our complexions or minds.

   4. Now whether it were true real necessity or no that hath caused such
   dispensations, I will not inquire. But this is certain, that no
   ancienter than [79]St. Bernard's days, the rigorous silence of the
   [80]Rule was most exactly observed; yea, even in these our days, and
   that in communities of women, there is little wanting of the like
   rigour. And if religious persons had truly good wills to seek God, they
   would find many things not very difficult, which in their present
   dispositions seem impossible, both in the point of silence and also of
   diet, &c.

   5. However, this is certain, that much and willing speaking is the
   effect of tepidity, self-love, and pride. For commonly it flows from an
   opinion that we can speak well, and consequently out of a desire of
   gaining estimation from others, by showing our wits and abilities. But
   such intentions and designs as these the disciple of true humility and
   spirituality will abhor.

   6. It is very requisite for an internal liver, therefore, at least to
   observe that moderate and qualified silence required in his community,
   not transgressing either in the appointed places, or at the determinate
   times in which speaking is forbidden.

   7. A young religious person must not without necessity be the first
   mover or proposer of a discourse, nor ordinarily speak till he be
   asked, unless it be to propose a question or doubt in a matter of
   concernment. Yea, this advice may likewise concern the more ancient,
   unless we do conceive that they are disobliged from humility and
   necessary abstraction. Indeed, more perfect souls can, when an occasion
   of necessary discourse is administered, speak more with incurring fewer
   and less defects than the imperfect.

   8. When prudence and charity require of us to speak, we must be very
   careful not to make the imperfections of others any part of the matter
   of our discourse, and especially not the imperfections of those from
   whom in our natures we seem to have an aversion. And principally we
   must take heed of speaking or doing anything to breed a dislike between
   any. Therefore, all secret informings and accusations are most
   carefully to be avoided, as the ruin of Christian charity in
   communities.

   9. And this concerns superiors as well as others, who ought to be very
   far from favouring this perniciously officious and uncharitable humour
   of accusing or informing in any of their religious. Much less ought
   they to esteem that their authority can extend to the prejudice of
   brotherly charity, so far as to excuse, or however to oblige, any one
   to be an accuser or informer against his brethren. A pretence of doing
   good to their subjects' souls will be alleged by such superiors as are
   of a curious, inquisitive disposition, and are continually searching
   into the behaviour of their religious; but little good reformation will
   ever be wrought by such a humour of jealous curiosity. On the contrary,
   the effects of it are the breeding of discontents generally in all, and
   the greatest mischief to the souls of private uncharitable informers.

   10. It is more secure for one that is apt to offend in his tongue to be
   in company with many than of one or two whom he affects. Therefore,
   particular intimacy and private correspondences between religious is
   much to be avoided, both for the peace of communities and the good of
   each private religious person.

   11. No words are to be spoken nor action done merely upon the motive of
   edifying others. And indeed, where recreative conversations are
   allowed, the most commodious subjects of discourse are purely
   indifferent things, and such as are neither apt to move passions nor to
   leave distracting images in the hearers' minds.

   12. Upon this occasion I conceive it necessary to add some advices
   touching religious recreations; the which are not to be concluded fit
   to be prohibited because we said that the duty of mortification extends
   itself universally to the whole soul, and that it is to be continued to
   the end of one's life. On the contrary, not only reason, but the
   examples of the most perfect among the ancient saints, famous for
   contemplation, show that it is profitable, yea, at due times necessary.
   To this purpose seems the story of St. John the Evangelist, the first
   doctor and example of contemplation, whose custom was to recreate
   himself with a tame dove; for which, being censured by a hunter that
   passed by as for an action that was beneath his gravity, and not
   beseeming one that professed a continual conversation with God, he
   defended himself to the conviction of the reprover by showing that as a
   bow, if it be always bent, would lose its force, so the mind likewise
   would become utterly incapable of Divine thoughts if no relaxation were
   allowed to it, considering the infirmity of the body, that cannot
   always supply fit spirits to actions, especially to such as are so
   contrary to its inclinations.

   13. True it is that in our holy [81]Rule there are extant no orders
   about conventual recreations, which argues that none were practised in
   those days. Yea, our holy Father takes a particular care how every hour
   of the day should be employed in common. Notwithstanding after
   refection he enjoined the religious to retire each one into his cell,
   permitting them a convenient time to refresh themselves alone, either
   with sleep, as the custom was in that warm climate, or otherwise as
   they found themselves disposed, if they had no inclination to sleep,
   for no certain employment is then appointed.

   14. But because in these latter days our complexions are not supposed
   able to support so great solitude and attention to the spirit as hath
   been said, therefore hath superiors allowed and ordained daily certain
   times for recreative conferences, almost obliging each particular
   religious person to be present at them and besides, at certain seasons
   monthly, or as the custom is, they have afforded an addition to the
   diet.

   15. Neither doth this prejudice the duty of continual mortification,
   which is not to be interpreted in extreme rigour, because then nature,
   even in the ablest complexions, would be destroyed. And besides,
   recreations are appointed that mortification may be better and more
   fervently exercised afterward. Add hereunto that, even in recreation
   itself, mortification may and ought in some reasonable degree to be
   discreetly exercised, so as that the mind is not to pour itself forth
   upon that which is pleasant to nature, but to keep a moderate
   watchfulness over itself, and to refer the contentment found therein to
   the good of the spirit.

   16. To speak a little, therefore, particularly touching such
   conferences: decency is in gross to be observed, but it will be
   difficult to prescribe any set order or manner for the talk, as not to
   speak unasked, not to exceed such a limitation of words, &c. (to omit
   many particular cautions which at other times are to be observed). Here
   some more freedom must be allowed, so it go not too far.

   17. Among women there can scarce be any recreation if the tongue be too
   much stinted. Neither is it to be expected that their talk should be of
   spiritual matters, both because such talk is far from being recreative,
   as likewise because none but expert persons ought to discourse of such
   subjects. Indeed, to make such the subject of ordinary discourse even
   between the most able experienced persons, either men or women, is not
   convenient at all, except some special occasion makes it expedient. For
   it usually proceeds from pride, or a willingness to interest one's self
   in the guiding of the consciences of others, and may produce
   inconvenient effects in both.

   18. The matter and conditions of recreative discourse, therefore, may
   be: 1. That the matter do not particularly refer to the interior of any
   of the parties; but if it regard a religious state, that it be about
   less considerable external matters, as ceremonies, customs, &c.; 2.
   that it may be something that may be apt to cause cheerfulness, though
   not laughter (which our holy Father would have banished from his
   communities). Now discourses about such matters are not to be reputed
   idle words; 3. it were better to talk of the occurrences of former
   times than of the present, because our holy Father forbids the
   inquiring or telling of news in the world, for fear lest the hearers,
   being interested, may become distracted with solicitudes; 4. it must
   not therefore be of anything that probably will leave in the minds any
   hurtful images; 5. the hearer is not to suffer the subject of the
   discourses to enter so deep into his mind as that it should raise any
   passions there; 6. it must by no means be of anything by which any one
   present or absent may be prejudiced or contristated, nor indeed
   afterwards distracted, &c.

   19. As touching those that are naturally of melancholic dispositions,
   they ought to be exceedingly watchful over themselves that they give
   not way to so pestilent a humour. Nature will incline them to avoid all
   recreations and diversions, and being very subtle, it will suggest
   pretences to justify a froward loneliness, and a humour not able to
   support innocent conversation, as if this were done out of a love to a
   religious solitude and recollection. But in all likelihood such a
   perverse solitude is employed in troublesome disquieting imaginations
   and reveries, far more distracting than any conversations. Therefore
   they, or rather their superiors, ought to take a special care that such
   a dangerous humour be not nourished by discontented retirements, at the
   times when others are conversing together, and that at all other times
   they should be busied in such kind of employments as should not be apt
   to nourish solicitude. Such dispositions, if prudently managed, may
   prove proper for contemplation, because their thoughts being not easily
   dissipated, they are disposed for recollection. Whereas, on the
   contrary, the same dispositions, being neglected and suffered to follow
   the bent of their natures, they will be in danger to fall into terrible
   extravagances.

   20. [82]St. Teresa in her Foundations hath a particular discourse
   containing excellent advices how melancholic spirits are to be managed,
   saying that they ought not to be dispensed from mortifications or
   employments from which they are averse, notwithstanding this
   frowardness of their humour. Yet withal, that the superior in his
   carriage towards them ought to make it appear that all that he imposes
   so on them proceeds from pure charity, and not any crossness or
   aversion, &c.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VIII.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3. Of the fourth kind of general mortifications, viz.
   tranquillity of mind.

   S:S: 4, 5. It may be in the superior soul during the time that there is
   disquiet in the sensitive.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8. How peace and tranquillity of soul may be procured.

   S:S: 9, 10, 11. Of a state of perfect peace; which is the end of a
   contemplative life.

   1. The fourth general mortification is a constant peacefulness and
   tranquillity of mind, maintaining itself against all disquieting
   passions of grief, fear, despair, &c.; of which I shall in this place
   speak briefly, and only in a general manner, being shortly in the
   following section to treat largely of the chief enemy thereof, which is
   fear and scrupulosity, where I shall take notice of the special motives
   or instruments of procuring such peace of mind, and of restoring it
   when it is lost.

   2. Without a reasonable proportion of such tranquillity obtained, a
   soul will be quite disabled from internal prayer. Therefore she is to
   use all care to preserve it, and when it is disturbed or lost she must
   endeavour as soon, and after the best manner she can, to regain it,
   till she be able to say, None shall take my peace from me;' and to use
   the words of the Psalmist (Anima mea in manibus meis semper), My soul
   is always in my hands and disposition, and not captivated by the
   corrupt passions of nature.'

   3. The subject of this peace is the soul according to all its
   faculties, both knowing and affecting, and both in the superior and
   spiritual, as also in the inferior and sensitive portion; for not only
   the affections of the will and passions of sensuality, but also the
   reason and imagination, may be disturbed; and, therefore, a
   composedness and calmness is to be procured through all. But yet the
   ways and means hereto necessary are not the same; neither does it
   follow that when the inferior faculties are in disorder that the same
   disorder should be communicated to the superior also. It does not
   always lie in our power wholly to suppress the instability and
   obstinacy of the imagination, nor the unruliness of sensuality, which
   ofttimes do resist our superior reason. But we are always enabled by
   the ordinary grace of God to keep in repose our superior soul, that is,
   to hinder it from attending to the suggestions of imagination (which we
   may reject), or to deny consent or approbation to the motions of
   sensuality; and this at least it must be our great care to do.

   4. Neither ought a well-minded soul to be discouraged or dejected at
   the contradiction that she finds in sensuality; but resisting it the
   best she can, she must be resigned and patient with herself, as she
   would be at the refractory humours of another, till that, by God's
   blessing, a longer exercise of prayer and mortification do produce a
   greater subjection of sensual nature to reason and grace. In the mean
   time she may comfort herself with this assurance, that all merit and
   demerit lies in the superior will, and not at all in sensuality
   considered in itself, and as divided from the will.

   5. During the conflict between reason and sense, or appetite, there may
   be a real tranquillity in the superior region of the soul, although the
   person be not able to discern that there is any such quietness; yea, on
   the contrary, to fearful natures it will seem that whensoever the
   sensitive part is disturbed, the spiritual portion doth also partake of
   its disorders; and this uncertainty, mistake, and fear that a fault has
   been committed is the ground of much scrupulosity, and by means
   thereof, of great unquietness indeed, even in the superior soul, to
   persons that are not well instructed in the nature and subordination of
   the faculties and operations of the soul.

   6. However, a well-minded soul may conclude that there is a calmness in
   the reason and in the will a refusal to consent to the suggestions of
   sensuality, even in the midst of the greatest disorders thereof, whilst
   the combat does not cease, and as long as the outward members, directed
   by reason and moved by the superior will, do behave themselves
   otherwise than the unruly appetite would move them. For example, when a
   person being moved to anger, though he find an unquiet representation
   in the imagination and a violent heat and motions about the heart, as
   likewise an aversion in sensitive nature against the person that hath
   given the provocation, yet, if notwithstanding he refrains himself from
   breaking forth into words of impatience to which his passion would urge
   him, and withal contradicts designs of revenge suggested by passion,
   such an one practising internal prayer and mortification is to esteem
   himself not to have consented to the motions of corrupt nature,
   although besides the inward motion of the appetite he could not hinder
   marks of his passion from appearing in his eyes and the colour of his
   countenance.

   7. When we seek to retain such quietness in the midst of unquietness,
   we do it by exercising an act of mortification proper to the occasion.
   Every act whereof doth in some degree abate impetuous nature, disposing
   us for better and more quiet recollections, which will procure us a
   clearer light and more efficacious grace to resist sensuality
   afterwards. As, on the contrary, each act of immortification doth
   increase in us self-love (the cause and root of all unquietness), and
   causes a greater obscurity in the soul, indisposing it likewise to
   prayer.

   8. To the end to procure an habitual peacefulness of mind, we must be
   careful not to do any of our actions (I mean even our actions of duty)
   with impetuousness and an inward hastiness, but with a composed
   calmness; for all acts of impetuosity and violence are so far but
   effects of self-love, and proceed not from the Divine Spirit, which is
   altogether stillness, serenity, and tranquillity. And let us not
   suspect that such a calm performance of our duty argues a tepidity and
   want of fervour. On the contrary, such actions so done are of more
   virtue and efficacious solidity; for the fervour that is indeed to be
   desired is not a hasty motion and heat in the inferior nature, but a
   firm and strong resolution in the will, courageously (yet without
   violence that is outwardly sensible) breaking through all difficulties
   and contradictions.

   9. All the duties of mortification (and consequently the exercise of
   all virtues) may be reduced to custodia cordis, which is a wary guard
   of our heart, and it consists in not pouring forth our affections
   inordinately upon creatures, nor admitting into our souls any
   inordinate love: it is a chariness over our interior, to keep it in as
   much quietness as we can. In cases of suffering, it is patience; in
   occasions of fear and disquiet, it is the practice of resignation. It
   is in effect abstraction; for it requireth that we restrain ourselves
   from meddling with what doth not appertain unto us, and in what doth
   belong to us to do, it requireth a reservedness of our loves and
   affections for God, to whom they are only due; also, that in speaking,
   hearing, and seeing, &c., we be wary they carry no inordinate
   affections into our soul. It is in effect solitude; for, though we be
   in company, yet having such a guard and care over our passions and
   affections, we are as it were alone. It is a passing over all creatures
   with a farther tendence to God. It is the practice of love, obedience,
   humility, and resignation to God; for these virtues we exercise
   virtually when we reserve ourselves and our affections for God. It is a
   principal mean to overcome all temptations of what kind soever, for it
   permits not the temptation to make any entry into the soul, which is
   kept as the dwelling-place of God and His love. It requireth that we
   look not after superfluities of meat, drink, clothing, &c., and that we
   desire not superfluous knowledge of what belongs not to us, nor is
   necessary for us. It forbids all childish immortified complaints or
   expostulations, or anything wherein we merely satisfy the inclinations
   of our corrupt nature. It forbiddeth us to do anything impetuously or
   with inward anxiety. It is termed an interior silence or an interior
   peace or concord; and for the better knowledge and practice of it,
   regard the teaching of the little treatise of the Quiet of the Soul,
   written by Bonilla, of the Order of St. Francis.

   10. True peace of mind, when it is in perfection, is the supreme state
   in an internal life, being a stability in one and the self-same
   tenor--an immutability, indifference, and insensibility as to ourselves
   and to all creatures and events, by which the soul transcends all,
   living in God only, and not being concerned in any other thing besides.
   And the root of it is the perfection of Divine charity and the
   destruction of self-love; for as long as self-love is active in us it
   carries us to multiplicity, urging us to seek contentment in anything
   pleasing to nature and all her appetites, which being crossed or not
   fully satisfied are restless and unquiet. Whereas, Divine love alone
   reigning unites and concentrates all our thoughts and affections in one
   only object, which is God, carrying all other affections in that one
   stream; so that there being no diversity of designs there must
   necessarily follow perfect unity and peace. This is a state to which
   the soul aspires in a contemplative life; the gaining of which will
   deserve and abundantly recompense all the sufferings and tediousness
   that nature is likely to find in the way.

   11. Yet even this state in the most perfect is not absolutely and
   entirely exempted from all trouble in inferior nature. But such trouble
   is small and scarce considerable; for notwithstanding it, the superior
   soul partakes nothing of it, but reigns in that upper region of light
   and peace, and from thence looks down upon sensuality, either as a
   thing divided from itself, in whose imperfections and disorders she is
   nothing concerned, being as it were safe locked up from them in a
   strong tower, or else she suppresses all such motions in their first
   breaking out, in virtue of that dominion which, by long practice, she
   hath gained over them. In such a state of perfect peace (yet without
   the least contradiction of sensual nature) Adam lived during his
   innocency. And how far any other mere man hath, or may attain thereto
   in this life, is not for me to determine.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

THE SECOND SECTION OF THE SECOND TREATISE.

    TOUCHING CERTAIN SPECIAL MORTIFICATIONS OF THE PASSIONS, ETC.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S: 1. Mortification properly is not of the senses or cognoscitive
   faculties, but of the affections.

   S:S: 2, 3. The special mortifications treated of are: 1. of the
   principal cardinal passions; 2. of the affections of the superior will.

   S: 4. The first passion is love.

   1. Intending now consequently to treat of the special kinds of
   mortifications, those especially which are most proper for a religious
   contemplative life, I take this as a ground that, though mortifications
   do regard the whole soul with all the faculties of it (and consequently
   the whole person) universally depraved, yet, precisely and exactly
   speaking, it is only the affective part of the soul that is immediately
   mortified, and only in consequence thereto the knowing faculties or
   organs. For though ignorance be a defect in tho soul, yet we do not say
   that knowledge or faith is properly a mortification, though it be a
   cure of that defect. But an inordinate love to knowledge unnecessarily,
   which is curiosity, deserves and is a deordination proper and fit to be
   mortified. The like we may say of the outward senses; for it is not
   seeing or tasting, &c., that are to be mortified, but the inordinate
   affections to those objects which delight the eyes or taste, &c.
   Therefore, my intention is to distinguish the several sorts of
   mortification according to the several passions or affections of the
   soul, both as to the sensitive and rational portion of it, and to refer
   thereto the respective mortifications of the several senses (without
   speaking distinctly and separately of them, which would force me to
   repeat over again the same advices, when I came to treat of the
   mortification of affections).

   2. This, therefore, shall be the order according to which I will treat
   of the mortification of affections, viz.: In the first place, I will
   begin with the sensitive portion of the soul, in which there are four
   principal passions, comprehending all the rest, which are to be
   mortified, viz.: 1. Love, to which desire and joy have relation, being
   only a progress of love. Now the object of love being either persons or
   things, and those either material or spiritual, there are many virtues
   required to the mortifying (that is, the rectifying) of it, as against
   the love of riches, poverty; against impure delectations, chastity;
   against the pleasures of taste, temperance; against excessive (although
   not unclean) love to persons, friends, &c., the love of God and
   spiritual things, &c. But my purpose here is only to treat of that
   universal virtue which is the cure of all inordinate loves, to wit, the
   love of God, and in Him, and for His sake only, of our brethren; and of
   purity of intention (which in substance are the same); and because the
   temptations about taste are such as adhere to the most spiritual
   persons, daily and unavoidably assaulting them, I will add some
   instructions about our behaviour in refection; 2. the next passion is
   Anger. (Some instead hereof do put in Hope; but howsoever, for our
   present purpose, the passion of anger deserves more to be considered by
   us, for hope may be referred to desire or love.) Now the remedy or
   mortification proper against anger is the virtue of patience; 3. the
   third passion in sensitive nature is Fear; 4. and the fourth is Sorrow.
   And because it is not needful (as to our present purpose) to divide
   these two, since among internal livers it is fear that is the most
   tormenting passion, and that which causes excess of sorrow; therefore
   the same remedies will serve to cure both; for which purpose I will
   discourse largely concerning scrupulosity, the causes and remedies of
   it, &c.

   3. In the next place, as to the superior portion of the rational soul
   (besides the same affections of love, anger, fear, and sorrow, which in
   the inferior soul are called passions, and having the same objects, &c.
   are to be comprised in them), there are more particularly two
   distempers in the will, to wit, pride or self-esteem, the remedy
   whereof is humility; and next, obstinacy and a violent retaining of
   liberty, to which the proper remedy opposed is obedience. As for a love
   of superfluous knowledge or curiosity, enough hath been said touching
   the mortifying of it, where we treated of the regulating of the studies
   of religious persons. [14]

   4. In this order, therefore, I will now treat of the passions or
   affections to be mortified, and the manner how to do it by the virtues
   opposed, beginning with the sensitive passions and so proceeding to the
   special inordinate affections in the will. First, therefore, of
   inordinate love either to persons or things, and the remedy of it,
   which is Divine charity.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [14] See sec. i. chap. vi. of this Treatise, p. 227.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S: 1. Love is the root of all other passions.

   S: 2. The wonderful depravity of our natural love.

   S: 3. The only universal remedy is charity or Divine love.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7. Of the distinction of love into: 1. a love of desire
   or concupiscence; 2. a love of friendship. The which are never
   separated.

   1. The principle of all our actions, both external and internal, and
   that which both begets and sets on work all other passions, is only
   love--that is, an internal complacence and inclination to an object
   from the goodness or beauty that is believed to be in it; which object,
   if it be absent, the first effect of love is a desire or tendence to
   it. But if it be present, then the effect of love is joy, rest, and
   fruition of it. Not only grief and anger, &c. but even hatred itself is
   set on work by love; for therefore a person is angry, discontented, or
   displeased, because something comes in the way, hindering him from what
   he loves; therefore he labours and works all that he does work. So
   that, according as love is regulated and placed upon a worthy or
   unworthy object, so is the whole person disposed, according to that
   saying of St. Augustine: Non faciunt bonos vel malos mores, nisi boni
   vel mali amores; that is, It is only a good or ill love that makes our
   actions and conditions to be good or ill.'

   2. Hence will appear how inexpressibly depraved both our nature and all
   our actions, outward and inward, must be, since whereas we were created
   only to love and enjoy God, yet we love and seek nothing but ourselves.
   Our sensitive affections are carried to nothing but what is pleasing to
   sensuality; and our spiritual affections to nothing but propriety,
   liberty, and independence, self-esteem, self-judgment, and self-will,
   and to those things only that do nourish such depraved affections. By
   this means we are quite diverted from our last end and felicity: every
   thought that naturally we think, every word we speak, every action we
   do, carries us further from God, our only last end and perfection; and,
   consequently, nothing can we reap from them but increase in misery.

   3. Now the only possible remedy for this horrible and universal
   deordination in us, proceeding from the only root of self-love, is to
   have a new contrary Divine principle imprinted in our hearts, by which
   we should be averted from the falsely seeming happiness that self-love
   promises us in creatures, and converted to our first and only end,
   which is God; and this can be no other but Divine love or charity shed
   abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost. This charity is an universal
   cure of all our disorders, producing the like effects in us with
   respect to our true end that self-love did to a false end. It raises
   and employs, when need is, all other passions: anger against our own
   negligence, ingratitude, &c.; hatred against the devil and sin, that
   hinder our conversion to God, &c. And it is the root of all our good
   actions, for giving us an inclination, desire, and tendence to union
   with God; from thence it is that we regulate and direct all our actions
   to Him. Hereupon St. Paul ascribes to charity the acts of all other
   virtues: Charity,' saith he, is patient, it is kind, long-suffering, it
   doth nothing unseemly, it rejoiceth in the truth,' &c.

   4. Now to the end we may have a distinct and clear notion of the nature
   of true charity, which is one and the noblest species of love, we may
   take notice that in general love regards: 1. either a thing that we
   desire to be possessed of, or to procure for ourselves, or some other
   that we love, as pleasure, profit, honour, knowledge, &c.; 2. or else a
   person, either ourselves or any other, to whom we bear an affection,
   and to whom we wish any good thing. The former of these two loves is
   called a love of desire, the latter a love of friendship. The
   difference between these two is this: that when we love anything
   distinct from ourselves, or the person of our friend, our love does not
   rest in the thing, but in the person; for it is not the thing is loved,
   but only for the person's sake, in whom love is finally terminated, and
   to whom that thing is loved and sought. So that when we seek pleasure
   and riches, &c. to ourselves, the love that we bear unto them is indeed
   self-love, because it is only for our own sakes that we love them, to
   give satisfaction to our natural desires. Yea, when we love a person
   only for sensual pleasure's sake and not for virtue, it is ourselves
   only that we love in such a person, whom we then love not properly as a
   person but as a thing pleasurable to us. But by a love of friendship we
   do, at least we profess to, love the person for the person's sake, and
   to seek therein, not our own good, but only the person's for whose
   greater good we are willing to neglect our own; yea, sometimes for the
   person's contentment, safety, &c. to sacrifice our own contentment or
   may be our life also. Thus far friendship hath been described in
   ancient and latter times; and charity is by all acknowledged to be a
   love of friendship to God, and for His sake only to men or ourselves.

   5. Indeed, if we narrowly examine the matter we shall find that there
   neither is nor can be any other true friendship but charity, or the
   love which we bear to God or for God; and that all other pretended
   friendships, either among heathens or Christians, are mere sensual
   self-love. For though in some friendships (as they are called) some
   have professed so absolute a purity and freedom from self-interest as,
   for their friends' sake, to neglect not only all temporal respects of
   riches, honour, pleasure, &c. but also willingly exposed their lives;
   yet indeed the true motive of all was a sensual love unto themselves;
   for therefore, for their friends' sake, they made choice of death,
   rather than to live deprived of them, because the want of so great a
   sensual contentment was far more bitter and insupportable to them than
   the pain of suffering death, which would quickly be finished, whereas
   the languor and torture of the other would never have ceased till
   death.

   6. But charity is only and in the most strict sense a friendship,
   because therein all our love is terminated in God only: we love nothing
   but Him or for Him; yea, we direct the love, not only of all other
   creatures, but also of ourselves only to Him.

   7. Now in what sense it is usually said that our love to God must be a
   free unconcerned love, renouncing all interest or expectation of reward
   as a motive thereto, and how this purely free love may,
   notwithstanding, consist with, yea, be grounded upon, a hope of
   retribution in heaven, consisting in the vision and fruition of God,
   see appendix at the end of the last treatise. [15]
     __________________________________________________________________

   [15] [Which appendix, as we have before had occasion to state, was not
   published.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S:S: 1, 2. The proper seat of charity is the superior will, not the
   sensitive affections, though oft in beginners it operates much there.

   S:S: 3, 4. Several acts or fruits of charity.

   S:S: 5, 6. The securest practice of Divine love is by self-abnegation.

   S: 7. Propriety makes and fills hell; and resignation, heaven.

   1. The most precious virtue of charity resides not in sensuality;
   neither is it a painful longing of the soul which causes motions in the
   heart; yea, though it become such a love as mystics call a languishing
   love, yet it is not such as sensual loves are used to be, a troublesome
   unquiet passion. But it is seated in the superior soul, being a quiet
   but most resolute determination of the superior will to seek God and a
   perfect union with Him; the which resolution she will not give over for
   any distractions or occurring difficulties whatsoever. Yea, then, it is
   oft most excellent and perfect, when the heart or inferior nature
   receives the least contentment by it; yea, on the contrary, feels the
   greatest disgusts and desolations. And such a resolution is grounded on
   a high esteem we have by faith of the infinite perfections of God, and
   the innumerable obligations laid by Him on us. This makes an inflamed
   soul to despise all things whatsoever for God, and to tend to Him with
   a resolution of enjoying Him, though with the loss of pleasure, riches,
   honour; yea, and the life itself.

   2. Yet so generous a love as this is not gotten suddenly. At the first
   it is very imperfect, and much allayed by self-interest, and seeking
   contentment to nature even in the actions done for God; so that were it
   not that ordinarily during such a state of imperfection God cherishes
   the soul with sensible comforts and gusts which she feels in the
   exercise of her love to Him, she would scarce have courage enough to
   proceed.

   3. The acts, effects, and fruits proper to pure charity or Divine
   friendship are: 1. to be united in affection to God as our chief and
   only good, with whom in some sort we are one; 2. out of love to Him to
   take joy in His perfections, congratulating with Him therefore, and
   exulting that He is adored and glorified by angels and saints; 3. to
   will and consent to the immutability of those perfections; 4. to desire
   and, occasions being given, to endeavour that all creatures may love
   and adore Him--that infidels and sinners may be converted to Him, that
   so He may reign by love in all; 5. to be sorry for all offences, both
   our own and others', committed against Him; 6. in pure love to Him to
   determine faithfully and unchangeably to serve Him; 7. to take joy in
   all things that please Him; 8. with indifference to accept of all
   things from His hands, as well things displeasing to our natures as
   pleasing; 9. to be sorry for all things that are contrary to His holy
   will; 10. to love all things that belong to Him merely for that reason;
   11. for His sake to love all men, yea, even our enemies and
   persecutors; nay, moreover, to endeavour to express some effects of
   love more to them than others, as being special instruments of
   procuring greater good to us than our friends are; 12. to do all the
   honour we can to Him, and all the service we can to others for His
   sake; 13. in nothing to seek temporal commodity, but only to please
   Him; 14. to imitate Him in all His perfections that are imitable, and
   particularly for His sake to love others with the like freedom of love
   wherewith He hath loved us, not seeking any commodity to ourself
   thereby; 15. to endeavour to serve Him the best we can, and yet withal
   to rejoice that He is served more perfectly by others; 16. to serve and
   love Him only in the service and love that we show to superiors,
   equals, or inferiors; 17. to resolve never to accept of any contentment
   but in Him, nor other happiness but only Him, and therefore not to rest
   with affection in any of His gifts, but only in Himself; 18. never to
   set bounds to the measure of our love, but still to endeavour to love
   Him more and better; 19. to desire to suffer for Him here, being for
   the present contented with hope only of enjoying for the future; 20. to
   hate ourselves, our corrupt natures, our insensibleness of His
   goodness, &c. with a most perfect hatred, never being weary in
   persecuting and mortifying ourselves; 21. to love Him equally in His
   commands as in His rewards; 22. to congratulate and take contentment in
   any act of temporal severity exercised by Him on us; 23. never to cease
   praying that God would show us the defectiveness of our love, and that
   He would daily give us grace more and more to increase it both in the
   degrees of fervour and purity; 24. to transcend in loving Him all
   thoughts of ourselves and of our own happiness, &c. These are marks,
   signs, and fruits of pure charity; but, alas! where shall we find a
   soul that can show them all? However, we are to aspire to as many of
   these perfections as may be, and to be resigned in our imperfections,
   since such is God's permission.

   4. Among all the expressions of our love to God, those which are
   generally the most profitable for us are: 1. to depend with an entire
   confidence on Him, both as to our temporal subsistence and spiritual
   progress, not relying on our own cares or endeavours, but casting our
   care on Him, living a life of faith. 2. To have hearts not only
   obedient to His commands, but inwardly affected to them, so that though
   they be never so contrary to our corrupt natures, yet to account the
   obeying Him to be both our necessary and most delicious meat and drink.
   3. To practise a perfect resignation to His will in all occurrences
   that befall us to suffer. These are secure testimonies of our love,
   because they do exclude the interests of nature; whereas ofttimes
   affective love is mingled with natural gusts and complacency.

   5. Now though this most secure practice of love by abnegation and
   annihilation of all propriety and self-will be at the beginning full of
   difficulty, because all the comfort of nature lies in self-will, yet by
   custom it will be less uneasy, and in the end delightful. For most
   certain it is that Christ's yoke, by constant bearing, becomes easy.

   6. The smallest act of love and service to God, performed with a
   perfect self-abnegation, is more acceptable and precious in His eyes,
   than the working of a thousand miracles or the conversion of nations,
   if in these there are mixed interests of nature.

   7. In a word, the difference between heaven and hell is, that hell is
   full of nothing but self-love and propriety; whereas there is not the
   least degree of either in heaven, nor anything but the fulfilling of
   God's will and seeking of His glory. This is the beatitude of all
   saints and angels, and no other way do they nor can they love
   themselves but by loving God only.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4. Of charity, as it is the same with Purity of
   intention. How God is the only end of all our actions. Of a pure and
   right intention.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Instructions how to get purity of intention;
   especially by the means of prayer.

   S: 10. The dangerous state of those who do not practise prayer.

   S:S: 11, 12. Of the exercise of offering our daily actions and
   sufferings, and how far such an exercise may conduce to purity of
   intention.

   S: 13. Rules prescribed by a late contemplative author not much
   approved.

   S:S: 14, 15. Other advices.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. Difference of purity of intention
   in contemplative and active livers, &c.

   1. We will now consider charity under another notion, as it is the
   director of all our actions; and so it is called Purity of intention,
   by which we do refer all that we do or suffer to the love and glory of
   God, which is of all other the most necessary condition. For God
   rewards no deeds but such as are done purely for His sake. So that
   whatsoever other end we propose which is not subordinate to this makes
   the action so far unacceptable to Him.

   2. I say subordinate, for doubtless there are and must needs be,
   besides this, other immediate ends and intentions of many of our
   actions, as the temporal or spiritual good of ourselves or others; but
   we are not to rest in those inferior ends, but to refer both the
   actions and them also finally unto God. So our Saviour commanded St.
   Peter to give tribute-money, lest the Jews should be offended.

   3. Whereas, therefore, some spiritual authors do advise us to exclude
   the thought of all other ends but only God's glory from all our doings;
   yea, so far as that they would not scarce permit one in praying to
   mention himself (saying, O that I could love thee, O my God, &c.), we
   are to suppose their meaning to be that, considering how forward and
   subtle nature is to intrude itself and its interests in our best
   actions, even to the exclusion of God (though we pretend otherwise);
   therefore, being so imperfect as we are, our best course were to study,
   as much as may be with discretion, to forget ourselves quite, and all
   other creatures. But surely if we were perfect, we might, without wrong
   to God, yea, with the increase of our love to Him, cast an eye on all
   intermediate ends.

   4. Harphius makes a difference between a right intention and a pure
   intention. The former he appropriates to good active livers, who,
   according to the substance of their actions, and the general purpose of
   their hearts, do indeed in all things desire to seek God's glory; but
   yet, for want of the practice of pure spiritual prayer, they mix many
   undiscovered designs of nature in their good actions, the which do so
   far abase the value of them. But the intention of perfect contemplative
   livers he calls a simple or pure intention, because it proceeds from a
   purified interior.

   5. Now for the obtaining of such a pure and simple intention, I will
   endeavour, according to my small experience and the best light that God
   has given me, to yield the best information and help I can in the
   following instructions, the which do properly belong to souls in a
   contemplative course. And they are to be regarded, and use in
   particular made of them, only so far as devout souls shall find them to
   be proper and profitable for them in particular, and as they are
   suitable to their Divine calls respectively, which are much more to be
   regarded than all human instructions.

   6. First, therefore, let a well-minded soul that leads an internal
   life, by reading, conferring, considering, and praying, get to
   understand the best she can, what the true and perfect love of God is,
   and wherein it consists.

   7. Secondly, this being done, let her (by the grace of God assisting
   her) seriously purpose with herself (yet so that she do not fetter
   herself by any vows or obligations), by all the best means she can, to
   labour for the attaining to the said love of God, and also purely for
   God's sake and to His glory, and no natural interests of her own, to
   intend the doing and suffering of all things that she shall afterwards
   do or suffer.

   8. Thirdly, since this love is only to be obtained by the means of
   prayer and mortification, let her resolve to abide in the prosecution
   of these, according to the directions here given, to her life's end;
   not voluntarily resting in any degree of love already attained, but
   still proceeding further without all limits. And this good resolution
   let her accordingly with courage put in execution daily, often renewing
   it when she finds herself to become slack or negligent.

   9. Lastly, in the execution of these duties and of all other her
   employments, she must always have at least a virtual intention of
   directing them all to God, making Him the final end of all, and
   oftentimes likewise she must frame an actual intention of the same. Now
   when God is indeed, and in the true disposition of the soul, the end of
   her actions, He communicates a supernaturality and a kind of divinity
   unto them, and unless He be truly the end, they have no merit at all.

   10. Now it being certain that only by the practice of internal prayer
   this purity of intention can be obtained, in what danger are those
   souls that do wholly neglect it? Neither will a few interrupted
   occasional offerings of our actions to God be sufficient to procure a
   stable habit of such purity, without constant set exercises of prayer
   and mortification. All the virtue that such oblations have is a little
   to diminish the impurity of those particular actions, but they do not
   at all (or very inconsiderably) increase or strengthen the habit of
   Divine love in the soul. The virtue therefore of such acts is to be
   measured according to the state that the soul is in.

   11. If an internal liver do practise such occasional offerings of daily
   actions, I should advise him: 1. not to multiply such acts too thick
   one upon the other, so as to endanger to hurt the head, or distract the
   imagination, or hinder the necessary liberty of spirit; 2. let them not
   be a hindrance to other more perfect and profitable elevations of the
   spirit to God, or aspirations, if the soul find herself invited
   thereto, or if they be relishing to her.

   12. It is unquestionable that the offering of our sufferings to God
   will be far more profitable to the soul than the offering of mere works
   that have in them little or nothing contrary to our natural
   inclinations. Yet even that also, without constant prayer, will be of
   little force.

   13. I dare with confidence profess, that the observing of the aforesaid
   simple directions will be far more available to the procuring purity of
   intention in most souls, than such a curious examination of our daily
   works as is prescribed by a late worthy contemplative of our nation,
   who requires in every work six qualities punctually to be observed,
   viz.: that it be done--1. actually; 2. only; 3. willingly; 4.
   assuredly; 5. clearly; 6. speedily for the love and glory of God. And
   he exacts of a soul carefully to search whether any of these conditions
   have been wanting, and consequently to be more circumspect in the
   future,--which surely would be an employment extremely distractive and
   full of solicitude. Though it may be he himself found much good by such
   a practice, and was able to do it with simplicity.

   14. It is far more easy for an imperfect soul to exercise purity of
   intention in actions that are of obligation, and done either in order
   to any law, or any command of superiors, than in those that are left to
   her own choice; and therefore it would be good for such an one either
   to have her daily and ordinary employments prescribed to her by her
   spiritual director, or to ordain them to herself upon good
   consideration beforehand, yet so as not to prejudice due liberty of
   spirit.

   15. In every recollection the soul doth either directly and expressly,
   or at least virtually, renew her first fundamental purpose of tending
   in all her actions, external and internal, to the perfect love of God;
   and then also she discovereth and correcteth such defects and
   transgressions of this purpose as have passed out of the times of
   prayer. Our recollections, therefore, are the fountain and root whence
   all our future works have their virtue and merit, and in them purity of
   intention is most perfectly exercised.

   16. The doings or sufferings of a contemplative liver, though ofttimes
   with much repugnance in inferior nature, yet do partake more of purity
   of intention and merit than the voluntary actions of active livers, or
   of one that does not constantly pursue internal prayer; albeit the
   actions of these do seem to be done with greater alacrity and facility,
   and to the doer seem to proceed purely out of charity, and withal cause
   great admiration in the eyes of the beholders. The reason is because
   the actions of the former are done purely out of a Divine inspiration,
   and also in great simplicity and unity, their regard to God being not
   hindered by the images accompanying such actions; whereas, active
   livers immediately contemplate multiplicity--yea, in prayer itself they
   are not without multiplicity, though they do direct that multiplicity
   more directly to one than in actions out of prayer.

   17. Now since purity of intention consists in regarding God with
   simplicity, that is, without mixture of images or affections to
   creatures, it concerns internal livers to use as great care and
   discretion as may be not to intrude themselves unnecessarily into
   distractive employments.

   18. Even the most perfect souls are apt to have less purity of
   intention in things grateful to nature than in such things as are
   mortifying; therefore, in the former they may do well to frame an
   actual upright intention.

   19. The repugnancy that contemplative livers do find ofttimes in the
   discharge of external employments, proceeds not so much out of any
   unwillingness to obey, as out of an averseness from leaving their
   internal solitude and abstraction; yet such repugnancy in inferior
   nature is easily subdued, at least so far that it shall not be a
   hindrance to obedience and duty.

   20. True purity of intention is best discerned in the beginning of an
   action; for ordinarily we set upon external works out of a sudden
   impulse and liking of nature, and afterwards we cozen ourselves with a
   forced good intention fastened upon them, so thinking that in them we
   do purely seek the glory of God, and faintly renouncing our interests
   of nature. It is indeed better to do thus than to continue such actions
   upon the same motives upon which they were begun. But no actions are
   perfectly meritorious and pure, but such as have for their first
   principle a Divine light and impulse, and are continued in virtue of
   the same.

   21. Therefore a certain ancient holy hermit was accustomed before he
   set upon any work to make a pause for some time, like one whose
   thoughts were busied about some other matter, and, being asked why he
   did so, he answered: All our actions are in themselves nothing worth;
   but, like a rough unshapen piece of timber, they have no gracefulness
   in them, unless we adorn and gild them over with a pure intention,
   directing them to the love and glory of God; or as one that is to shoot
   at a mark doth first carefully fix his eye upon it, otherwise he will
   shoot at random,--so do I fix my eye upon God, who is to be our only
   mark; and for this reason, before I begin any work, I do seriously
   offer it to God, begging His assistance.'

   22. Active livers had need, in almost all their actions of moment, to
   frame an actual intention; but not so the contemplative, who are always
   habitually united to God; for such iterations of actual intention would
   cause too much distraction to them.

   23. To conclude: how difficult and uneasy soever to nature the
   attaining to purity of intention be, because thereby the very soul of
   corrupt nature (which is propriety) is rooted out; yet, since it is
   absolutely necessary in an internal life, therefore considering God's
   promise that He never will be wanting to our endeavours, souls of good
   wills will find it neither impossible nor of so great difficulty as at
   first it appeared, if they will attempt it with a strong resolution. To
   quicken and fortify which resolution I will end this discourse with
   that piercing saying of Harphius: O how great and hidden deceits of
   corrupt nature will appear,' saith he, and be discovered' (and
   consequently be severely punished) after this life, for that souls have
   not here been purified and made deiform in their intentions! God
   Almighty give us the grace to discover now and reform this perilous and
   secret self-seeking of nature, to the glory of His Holy Name! Amen.'
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of the loving of God in ourselves and other creatures; and
   how the love to ourselves is to be ordered.

   S: 3. Even that love which is duty in heathens, &c., is defectuous.

   S: 4. We cannot love others truly and meritoriously till we first love
   God.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7. All affections not proceeding from charity are to be
   mortified.

   S: 8. All intellectual creatures are the objects of our charity, except
   the damned souls and devils.

   S: 9. Of the order of charity.

   S:S: 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. Those are most to be loved (even above
   ourselves) whom God loves most. Yet certain duties proceeding from
   love, as honour, sustenance, alms, &c., are first to be extended to
   parents, friends, &c., and especially to ourselves.

   S:S: 15, 16, 17. Further proofs of this.

   S: 18. Whether beauty, &c., may be a motive of love.

   S:S: 19, 20, 21, 22. Of love extended to enemies. Who are esteemed
   enemies.

   S: 23. Great grace required to practise this duty aright.

   S:S: 24, 25. Degrees of love to (supposed) enemies, and the fruits
   thereof.

   S: 26. Of a special kind of love called Philadelphia, or love of the
   fraternity of believing, holy, Christian Catholics.

   1. Before we end the subject of Divine love, something is to be said of
   love to ourselves and our neighbours, in and for God. For as for the
   love which out of God we bear to ourselves or any others, it is not
   worth the treating of, as being altogether defectuous and grounded in
   nature, and the more vehement it is the more defectuous is it.

   2. The right ordering, therefore, of our love to ourselves and our
   brethren consists in this: 1. That the motive of our love must be the
   Divine will and command. 2. The ground thereof must be the relation in
   which we stand to God, as capable of the communication of Divine graces
   and beatitude. 3. The end must be to bring ourselves and others (either
   by our endeavours, exhortations, &c., or by our prayers) to God, that
   He may be loved and glorified by us, in the doing of which consist our
   perfection and happiness. 4. Lastly, the subject of this love must be
   the superior will especially: as for tenderness of nature, distracting
   solicitudes, and unquiet images in the mind touching those we love, the
   best and safest course would be to mortify and diminish them as much as
   may be, as proceeding from a natural sensual affection, the which, as
   far as it does not flow from the superior soul, and is not subordinate
   and directed to the love of God, is defectuous.

   3. Hence appears, first, that affections in persons that are strangers
   from the true faith, are full of defectuousness in all the particular
   respects before mentioned. For though, for example, the love which
   children owe to their parents, and the affections mutually due between
   husbands and wives, &c., be for the substance according to the law of
   nature and right reason, and consequently so far conformable to the
   Divine will, so that the want or refusal of such love, and the neglect
   of the duties and offices required by such relations is a great sin;
   yet there can be no merit either in such love or the effects of it, by
   reason that it is neither from the motive of Divine charity nor
   directed to the glorifying of God by perfect love, from which all merit
   proceedeth.

   4. Secondly, it follows from hence that we can neither meritoriously
   love ourselves nor our brethren, till first we are firmly rooted in the
   love of God, because charity to ourselves or others is indeed only love
   to God by reflection, or the loving of God in things belonging to Him,
   and which He either loves or may love.

   5. Therefore an internal liver ought to mortify all sensual affection
   to creatures,--I mean all particular friendships and intimacies which
   are not grounded upon the necessary foundation of the Divine love; and
   as for such affections as are necessarily due by virtue of some
   respects and relations that God has put between ourselves and any
   others, such an one ought, as much as may be, to root them out of the
   sensual portion of the soul, because there they will cause great
   distractions and hindrances of our most necessary love to God.

   6. A serious care to practise according to this advice is very
   necessary, especially in religious communities, both for our own good
   and others'. For besides that sensual friendships grounded on external
   or sensual respects are most unbeseeming persons that have consecrated
   themselves only to God, and infinitely prejudicial to abstraction and
   recollectedness of mind, and much more if they be between persons of
   different sexes, such particular intimacies cannot choose but cause
   partialities, factions, particular designs, &c., to the great
   disturbance and harm of the community.

   7. The least defectuous amongst the grounds of a particular friendship
   may be the resentment and gratitude for benefits, especially spiritual
   ones, that have been received. But yet even in this case also we ought
   to prevent the settling of amity in the sensual part of the soul, and
   content ourselves with requiting such obligations by our prayers, or by
   a return of proportionable benefits.

   8. Now charity is to be extended to all intellectual creatures, that
   is, to all angels, and all men whether alive or dead, except only the
   reprobate angels and damned souls, which are not objects of our
   charity, inasmuch as they are not capable of enjoying God, which is the
   ground of charity. And the effects of our charity to the glorified
   saints and angels must be a congratulation with them for their
   happiness, and for the love which they bear to God, and which God will
   eternally bear reciprocally to them. To all Christians dying in the
   faith of our Lord, and not yet purified, we must testify our charity by
   praying for them, and doing all other Christian offices of sacrifices,
   alms, &c., for the assuaging and shortening of their sufferings in
   purgatory. For all Christians alive, yea, all men, we must pray for
   graces suitable to their necessities; for conversion to unbelievers or
   misbelievers, and also all those that are of ill lives; for increase of
   grace to those that are in a good state, with whom likewise we must
   rejoice for the mercies of God showed to them, and beg eternal
   happiness to all. Neither must we rest in mere desiring such blessings
   to all men (our neighbours), but also upon occasions offered do all we
   can to procure or effect the things we pray for, by exhortations,
   reproofs, &c. And if to others, much more must we express all these
   effects of charity to ourselves. And as for temporal good things (as
   they are called), we are to desire (and procure), both for ourselves
   and others, so much of them as God knows shall be best for the
   advancement of our souls in His love.

   9. Notwithstanding, though the same charity ought to be extended to
   all, yet not in the same order nor degree, but to some more than
   others, and to some also certain effects of it which are not due to
   others. Now how to determine this order and degrees, though the
   disputes of many about it are very intricate, yet if we stand firm to
   the ground before laid, viz. that only God is to be loved by us in and
   for Himself, and ourselves with all other creatures only for and in
   God, it will not be difficult to clear this point sufficiently.

   10. It is evident that some effects and expressions of love are due to
   parents, brethren, &c., which belong not to strangers; and some to
   superiors which are not proper for inferiors or equals, and much more
   to husbands and wives, which are not due to any other,--yet love,
   generally taken, is due to all. Now our love to creatures being, as I
   said, only the love of God as reflected or reverberated upon those that
   belong to Him, this variety of effects of love is according to the
   various impressions of the Divine perfections in several of His
   creatures; for besides His graces and beatitude, which are common alike
   to all (at least of which all are capable), and consequently the
   objects of our love, God, in the first place (as being His own being,
   and nearest to Himself), has in a small degree imprinted being in us,
   the conservation and perfectionating of which being ought to be the
   first object of our desires and endeavours. Again, God as a creator and
   cause of being is imperfectly exemplified in our parents; and for that
   reason our parents, next to ourselves, may challenge our affections,
   and besides our affections, reverence and gratitude, in providing for
   their subsistence, as they formerly did for ours (except when public
   good interposes). Again, God as an universal supreme governor has
   imprinted the character of His power in superiors, for which, besides
   love, we owe them obedience and respect, &c.; in the paying of which
   duties we are not to rest with our minds and affections in any of
   these, but to pass through them to God, in whom resides that perfection
   in an infinite plenitude for which we express the said respective
   offices to several of His creatures, so that it is the universal
   Creator that we honour in our parents, and the supreme King of kings
   that we obey in magistrates, &c.

   11. But, moreover, we are to consider that though no duty that we
   perform has any merit but as it proceeds from charity, and is commanded
   and ordered by it, yet love as love, and the proper effect of love as
   such, may be separated from these duties, the which are to be paid
   although we did not inwardly love the persons to whom we pay them. Yea,
   even in regard of God Himself we may distinguish these things.

   12. Although God had no farther relation to us than that we have our
   being from Him--nay, though we knew not so much--yet if we knew how
   infinite His power, wisdom, dominion, &c., were, we could not choose
   but admire His wisdom, tremble at His power, &c.; but these would not
   produce love in us towards Him, the object of which must be good--that
   is, such perfections as are amiable and render a subject beautiful or
   agreeable; and withal there must be a possibility, at least in the
   imagination, that the person loving may in some sort participate of
   such perfections. Now in God there being acknowledged all the possible
   perfections that can compose an inconceivable pulchritude, and,
   moreover, He having signified His readiness to communicate unto us, by
   an affective identification or union, all those perfections, if we will
   approach unto Him by love, so requiting the love which He first bears
   to us--this is it that makes God properly the object of our love. To
   which purpose St. John saith that God loved us first, not because we
   deserved it, but to the end to make us deserve His love, and because we
   were His creatures, capable of enjoying His perfections and happiness;
   and we love Him because He loved us first, proposing Himself and His
   happiness to be enjoyed by love. But because we are not to look upon
   God as a friend standing upon even terms, but infinitely supereminent
   and exalted above us, therefore with love we pay most submissive
   obedience, adoration, humiliation of ourselves, admiration, &c., with
   regard to His other perfections and relations, which duties are only
   meritorious because proceeding from love; and they proceed from love
   because these other perfections are the perfections of a friend, and
   such as, in all our needs, shall be exercised and employed for our
   good.

   13. Proportionally in creatures those are most to be loved in whom the
   qualities producing love do most reside, or in regard of which
   especially we love God and God us--that is, goodness, purity, justice,
   charity, and the like; or, which is all one, we are by a pure affection
   of charity (simply considered as charity) to love those most that God
   loves most, and in whose souls God by His graces, deserving love, doth
   most perfectly dwell, and which most partake of His happiness. The
   supreme object, therefore, of our charity among creatures is the most
   blessed humanity of our Lord, and next thereto His heavenly Virgin
   Mother, and after them the heavenly Angels and blessed Saints, and on
   earth the most perfect of God's children.

   14. Now though this assertion doth seem to contradict the common
   opinion that charity is to begin after God with ourselves, and that
   after ourselves it is to be next extended to those that have the
   nearest relations of nature, &c., to us, yet indeed it does not; for
   although the affection of charity simply considered in itself is only
   to regard God, and for His sake those that have near relation to Him,
   and are most like Him in the graces properly deserving love, yet
   several effects of charity, and of other virtues or qualities in us
   flowing from charity, are in the first place, after God, to be
   exhibited to ourselves, and afterward to those that God hath placed
   near to us respectively, according to the degrees of nearness.

   15. For charity being an affection rather of the will than the
   sensitive faculties, seems to be a certain esteem and value set upon
   persons, and consequently an adhesion of the will and tendence to an
   internal union of spirit with them. Now questionless this esteem though
   due to all (inasmuch as all either do or may participate of God's
   graces and happiness), yet in the highest degree of it it is most due
   to those that most deserve it, or that are most like unto God. So that
   to value ourselves or any mortal friends or kindred before the
   glorified saints would be irrational and unseemly; charity would then
   be disorderly, contrary to what the Holy Ghost saith (Ordinavit in me
   charitatem), He hath fitly and duly ordered charity in me.' True it is
   that, by reason of self-love and self-interest (which is never wholly
   rooted out of us in this life), as likewise of the great dominion that
   sensitive nature oft takes in our actions, we can hardly prevent or
   hinder love from showing a greater regard to ourselves and our nearest
   friends; yet as far as it is an affection of the will, so it may be,
   yea, in perfect souls it is stronger towards those that are nearest to
   God.

   16. But as for some special offices and duties which in us do or ought
   to flow from charity, they are to be exhibited according as God hath
   placed persons in several relations to us. Now it being evident that
   God hath made us nearest to ourselves, and hath intrusted to every
   particular person the care of his own soul before all others, therefore
   every one is obliged to bestow his chief solicitude and endeavours upon
   the adorning of his own soul, and the directing of it to happiness. As
   for other men, certain general duties of this nature are upon occasions
   only to be exhibited towards all. Hence we are generally commanded to
   exhort, edify, reprove, &c., one another. But these duties are to be
   the employment and particular charge only of those that God hath called
   to the care of souls, yet so as that no souls are so strictly intrusted
   to any one as his own, so that upon no pretence can it be lawful for
   any one to neglect the care of his own soul. And in the extending of
   these offices of spiritual (or corporal) charity, reason requires that
   (other circumstances being equal) we should prefer those that have
   nearest relation to us, except when strangers do stand in far greater
   necessity, for they are then to be accounted as nearest to us, and, as
   it were, committed to our charge.

   17. Therefore external works of charity and other offices, though they
   ought all to be paid out of charity (honour to whom honour is due, fear
   to whom fear, &c.), yet they are not to follow the order of charity,
   but of proximity; so that in equal necessity we are to prefer our
   parents, kindred, near neighbours, special friends, in regard of giving
   alms, &c., before those that may challenge the preference in the
   affection of pure charity, as being more holy and more beloved of God.
   It may, notwithstanding, happen that in some cases there may be a doubt
   how the order of charity is to be observed. But a soul that follows
   internal prayer will not want a light to direct her. To give particular
   rules would be tedious and impertinent to the present design; this,
   therefore, may suffice concerning the order of charity in general.

   18. It may be demanded, whether external corporal endowments, as youth,
   beauty, gracefulness, &c., may be permitted to enter as a motive into
   the love that we bear to others? I answer that such corporal
   perfections, being gifts of God, may lawfully, as such, be motives of
   love, namely, to those that are so perfect as that they can use them as
   steps to ascend by them to a higher and purer love of God in and for
   them, who is beauty itself. But as for imperfect and sensual persons,
   it would be unlawful and a tempting of God to give a free and
   deliberate scope to their love of others (specially of different
   sexes), for the regard of beauty, since we know it will powerfully
   withdraw their affections from God and fix them on creatures after the
   foulest manner. Therefore the necessary care of ourselves requires that
   we should not so much as look steadily and fixedly on the temptation of
   beauty, much less favour the attraction of it.

   19. Before we conclude this so necessary a point concerning charity,
   somewhat is to be said touching the most Christian duty of love to our
   enemies. True it is that the love of Christ will not permit us to
   exercise enmity towards any person in the least degree, since charity
   is to be universally extended to all; but enemies I call those that are
   in their nature averse from us, or incensed by some provocation, or
   that are indeed enemies to our holy profession, or that would draw us
   to sin, &c.

   20. As for these latter sort of enemies, they are indeed truly such,
   and their actions we must abhor, and also with discretion avoid their
   company; but we must not hate their persons, nor be wanting in any
   office of charity towards them when occasion is offered.

   21. But touching the former sort, of those that (as it is to be hoped),
   without an utter breach of charity, do in external matters do ill
   offices to us, or are contrary to our designs, such we ought to esteem
   as indeed our friends; and, perhaps, if we regard the profit of our
   souls, we could less spare them than those we call our most officious
   friends, who do but flatter or nourish self-love in us. It is only as
   to the feeling of nature that we esteem such to be enemies, but really
   we are to behave ourselves towards them as God's instruments for our
   great good; yea, and as far as prudence will permit, we are to judge
   and believe that they love us, and intend our good in things that they
   do cross to our nature.

   22. Now till we come to a perfect simplicity of thought (which will not
   be till we approach to a state of perfection), we must be careful
   neither by words nor deeds to procure them the least harm in any kind;
   no, not so much as in thought to wish it them. On the contrary, we must
   love them still, and principally for this, because God loves them and
   desires their salvation, which (it is to be hoped) He will effectually
   procure.

   23. But to do an office so necessary, yet withal so contrary to the
   inclinations of corrupt nature, a great measure of grace is requisite,
   the which is not to be had without answerable efficacious internal
   prayer seriously pursued; the which, joined with good carriage towards
   them forth of the times of prayer, will in time abstract the soul from
   inferior passions and that inordinate self-love which is the root of
   hatred to such enemies; and Divine love increasing, it will
   proportionally subdue all other affections to itself, and even compel
   us to love our enemies for God, according to the most perfect example
   of our Saviour. And he that thinks to get this necessary love to
   enemies (or indeed any other Christian virtue) in any considerable
   perfection without spiritual prayer will find that he will lose his
   labour.

   24. The degrees of our love to (supposed) enemies are such as follows:
   1. The first and lowest degree is not to revenge ourselves on them, nor
   to render evil for evil, by word or deed, in their presence or absence,
   privily or publicly, &c. (Indeed we ought to behave ourselves with much
   wariness towards those that in nature we find an averseness from, so as
   that if we cannot as yet conquer the resentments of nature, we were
   best to eschew meddling in matters that concern them.) 2. Not to be
   angry or offended for any ill offices that they may seem to have done
   us. 3. To forgive them whensoever they crave pardon. 4. To forgive them
   before they acknowledge their fault or seek to make amends. 5. Not to
   be contristated at their prosperity, nor deny any offices of charity to
   them, but to pray for them, to speak well of them, and to do kindnesses
   to them, to congratulate for any good successes of theirs, and be
   cordially sorry for their misfortunes, &c. 6. To seek occasions of
   doing them some special good, yea, and for the procuring of such good,
   to undergo some discommodity, loss, or prejudice. 7. To take part in
   their prosperities or adversities as if they were our own. 8. After the
   example of our Lord, to hazard, and even lay down our lives for their
   souls' good. 9. To conquer all resentment, even in inferior nature, and
   in simplicity of soul to judge all their ill offices to be effects of
   their charity, and not averseness. (Yet I doubt whether even in the
   most perfect the love to enemies can come to be transfused into
   inferior nature from the superior soul, as our love immediately to God
   sometimes may be.) 10. To do all this purely for the love of God. These
   things we ought to do the best we can, and God will accept of our
   good-will, though our actions be not so perfect as we would wish they
   were.

   25. By such Christian and charitable behaviour towards our enemies,
   such a Divine virtue will proceed from our actions, that we shall come
   to gain them perhaps to be our best friends, yea (which is far more
   considerable), we shall probably gain them to God, if before they were
   estranged from Him.

   26. To conclude this whole discourse, we are to know that there is a
   peculiar species of charity, which St. Peter makes the next step to
   perfection, which he calls Philadelphiam, or love of the fraternity,
   being a certain spiritual affection to all God's children, the which
   subdues all other inferior regards of nature, and makes our union with
   them to be purely in God, transcending all other kinds of obligations.
   And the offices of this virtue are such as cannot be extended to any
   but such as we know to be truly the servants of God, such as are an
   inward communion in holy duties of prayer, &c., and a communication of
   certain charitable offices, which out of an ardent love to God we
   desire to express to Him, by a choice that we make of His special
   friends, as it were in them endeavouring to oblige Him after a more
   than ordinary manner.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   S: 1. Of the mortification of sensual love to meats, &c., by temperance
   in refection.

   S:S: 2, 3. This is a lasting continual temptation even to the most
   perfect, and therefore to be especially regarded.

   S: 4. Defects in refection which are to be avoided.

   S: 5. Of disaffection to sensual pleasures to be aspired to.

   S: 6. Feasting to be avoided.

   S: 7, 8, 9. Inconveniences inseparably attending refection. Yet are we
   not therefore to abridge ourselves of a necessary measure of
   sustenance.

   S:S: 10, 11. Advices touching care to be had in refection.

   S: 12. The body to be esteemed an enemy.

   S: 13. In what case, and how, we may seek more delicate meats, &c.

   S: 14. Certain benefits to the soul by refection.

   S: 15. The subtlety of temptations in refection.

   S: 16. Perfect souls have an aversion from necessary pleasures and
   refections.

   S:S: 17, 18. A sublime kind of mortification exercised by certain holy
   persons.

   S: 19. Of attention to reading at refections.

   S: 20. Of Physic.

   S:S: 21, 22, 23, 24, 25. Advices touching sleep.

   1. The love of God is a sufficient and most efficacious universal
   remedy against all other inordinate affections; and therefore I should
   have contented myself with that one general mortification of the
   passion of sensual love, were it not that the matter of corporal
   refection and pleasure felt in meats and drinks has something in it
   very considerable in a spiritual life, and therefore requires
   particular advices about it: 1. Because it is a temptation which
   unavoidably accompanies us through our whole life, forasmuch as the
   occasion of it, to wit, food, is absolutely necessary. 2. There is
   scarce any temptation more subtle, for it doth so cloak itself under
   the title of necessity that even the most perfect souls which have
   abandoned all other occasions, yet being imprisoned in bodies that need
   daily refection, are continually exposed to this, and oft surprised and
   in some measure overcome by it, not being able to distinguish excess
   from necessity. Hence St. Augustine in his Confessions (lib. 10, c. 13)
   most elegantly yet passionately complains of it, describing the
   subtleness and importunateness of this temptation, which passage being
   commonly known and obvious it is not necessary to set down in this
   place.

   2. The natural appetite desires food merely for the sustaining of
   nature. The sensual merely for pleasure, not considering benefit either
   to soul or body, nor regarding the seasonableness of the time nor any
   other due circumstance; but the rational appetite or will directed by
   grace, though it cannot hinder sensuality from taking pleasure in food,
   &c., yet desires and receives it out of a necessary care of supporting
   the body for the good of the soul according to the will and pleasure of
   God, and this in such order, measure, &c., as reason judgeth fit, and
   not as sensuality would have it. So that if the rational part give way
   to the inordinate desires of sensuality so far there is a fault
   committed, the which is not to be imputed to sensuality, but to the
   superior soul, whose office it is to restrain and bridle sense.

   3. This temptation, as it is the last that is perfectly overcome, so it
   is the first that is to be combated against. For there is no virtue had
   (saith Cassian) till a soul come to have some degree of mastery over
   herself in the point of gluttony. And the main mischief of the
   temptation is prevented, when we are come to cast off the habitual
   affection to eating and drinking, especially to feasting, the which
   brings many inconveniences to an internal liver, as: 1. loss of time;
   2. peril of intemperance and other misbehaviour; 3. hurtful
   distractions; 4. indisposition to prayer; 5. intemperance likewise in
   another use of the tongue, to wit, talking, &c.

   4. Imperfect souls, therefore, must make it their care in refections to
   avoid these special defects, to wit, eating or drinking: 1. too much;
   2. with too great earnestness; 3. too hastily, preventing the due
   times; 4. delicately; 5. with precedent studiousness to provide
   pleasing meats, &c. In respect of the two first qualities or defects,
   such souls may happen to offend who yet in a good measure have attained
   to a spiritual disesteem and neglect of those things that please
   sensuality; for they on occasions may be tempted to eat with some
   excess and ardour. But rarely do such offend in the following
   qualities.

   5. Now the marks by which a soul may discern whether she have in her a
   disaffection to sensual pleasures are: 1. if her chief delight and
   esteem be in exercises of the spirit, and that she diligently pursues
   them; 2. if she seeks not after nor willingly admits extraordinary
   feastings; 3. if being alone she does not entertain herself with the
   thought of such things, nor talks of them with gust; 4. if when she is
   forced to take refections she takes them as of necessity and duty; 5.
   if she could be content, so that God's will were such, to be deprived
   of all things that might please taste, &c.

   6. In case that necessary civility shall oblige a spiritual person to
   be present at a feast, he may do well to be watchful over himself at
   the beginning. And this he may the more easily do because then others
   being more eager to their meat will less mark him. And to entertain the
   time, which is ordinarily long, let him choose such meats as are the
   lightest and of the easiest digestion; for so doing he may both seem to
   avoid singularity in abstaining more than others, and yet in effect eat
   far less. In a word, let him go thither with a mind and affection to
   abstinence, and retain such affection.

   7. This one unavoidable misery there is in eating and drinking, how
   temperately soever, that a soul, for such a time and for some space
   afterwards, is forced to descend from that height of spirit that she
   had attained to by virtue of her precedent recollection. So that if
   before she had a sight and experimental perception that God was all,
   and herself nothing, she will afterwards have no other sight of this
   but her ordinary sight of faith, by reason that her spirits are more
   active, and her internal senses filled with images and vapours.

   8. Yet a soul is not to abridge herself of a necessary quantity in
   refection, for her prayers' sake, or other internal exercises, for that
   would for a long time after do more harm to the spirit by too much
   enfeebling the body. Neither is she to judge that she has offended by
   excess, because she finds a heaviness, and perhaps some indigestion,
   for some space after refection; for this may proceed from that debility
   of complexion which ordinarily attends a spiritual life, since, as St.
   Hildegarde saith, the love of God doth not usually dwell in robust
   bodies.

   9. It is not our petty failings through frailty or ignorance, and much
   less our supposed failings (judged so by our scrupulosity), that can
   cause God to be averted from us, or that will hinder our union with
   Him. For, for such defects we shall be atoned with God in our next
   recollections, or, it may be, sooner. But those are indeed prejudicial
   defects which proceed from a settled affection to sensual objects.

   10. To correct the vice of eagerness in eating, Abbot Isacius advised
   his monks that when they stretched forth their hands for the receiving
   of their meat or drink, they should do it with a certain mental
   unwillingness.

   11. Let every one content himself with what God by superiors provides
   for him, accounting that, how mean or coarse soever, to be the very
   best for him, and not that which cannot be procured without solicitude
   and impatience. Neither ought any to justify or excuse his impatience,
   out of an opinion of obligation that every one has to take care of the
   body for the service of the spirit; for the spirit is far more
   endamaged by such impatience and solicitude than anything they can
   desire for the body can do it good.

   12. We have small reason to love the body, for it is that which one way
   or other is the cause of almost all the sins which the soul commits. To
   cherish, therefore, and satisfy its inordinate desires, is to make
   provision for sin, as if our natural corruption did not sufficiently
   incline us thereto.

   13. The infirmity of our body may sometimes require not only healthy
   but also well-tasting meats, not for the satisfying of our sensuality,
   but the upholding of our strength, as St. Augustine saith. In which
   case meats of good relish, even as such, may be sought for, yea, ought
   to be so, and this for the recreating and comforting of nature; and
   such corporal consolation may also have a good effect upon the spirit.
   But where no such necessity is, to seek for such meats is against the
   rules of religious temperance. And even during such necessity, to seek
   them either with solicitude or so as may be prejudicial to the
   community is contrary to religious poverty and resignation.

   14. As many defects and hindrances to spiritual progress do flow by
   occasions of refection, so, on the contrary, to well-minded souls it
   may be the occasion of some advantages for their progress in spirit.
   For: 1. It obliges a soul to watch and pray that she be not overcome by
   the temptation. 2. It may give occasion for the exercise of patience in
   case of the want of things contentful to nature, as likewise of
   temperance in the use of them. 3. The experience of our frequent
   excesses beyond true necessity may afford great matter for the exercise
   of humility. 4. By the means of refection there are given to souls
   certain pausings and diversions from spiritual workings, necessary to
   enable them (making good use thereof) to work afterwards more
   vigorously and intensely.

   15. Vix perfectus discernit, &c., saith St. Gregory. A perfect soul
   doth scarce discern the secret temptations and subtle subreption of
   sensuality, urging souls to take more than necessity or obedience
   requires; and the only light necessary for such discerning comes from
   internal prayer. And, moreover, till the soul by prayer be raised above
   sensuality, she cannot have strength enough to resist all the
   inordinate desires thereof which she doth discern. And when souls are
   arrived to perfect prayer of contemplation they oppose such desires
   rather by neglecting and forgetting the body than by direct combats
   against the appetites of it. And only from the decay and ignorance of
   such prayer hath it proceeded, that spiritual directors have been
   forced to multiply such and so many nice observances about diet and
   other duties of our [83]Rule; all which, notwithstanding, without
   prayer have but small effect to produce solid virtues in the soul.

   16. A soul perfectly spiritualised, if she might have her wish, would
   willingly be freed, not only from all pleasures taken in refections
   (considering the daily temptations to excess), but even from the
   necessity of them, being forced to cry out with David (De
   necessitatibus meis erue me, Domine), O Lord, free me from these my
   corporal necessities;' for were it not for them she might always, like
   an angel, be in continual contemplation, and enjoy a never-failing
   internal light, the which is obscured by the fumes raised even by the
   most temperate refections, by which also passions are in some degree
   quickened. Such souls may indeed properly be said to have a
   disaffection to refection. And the best way besides and out of prayer
   to beget such disaffection, and to prevent the harms that may come from
   any corporal necessities, will be, not only to practise the mortifying
   of sensual contentment in going to the refectory, but, upon serious
   consideration of the temptations there to be found, to go with a kind
   of unwillingness and fear.

   17. A most noble kind of mortification in refection is that mentioned
   by Harphius of a certain holy brother of the order of St. Francis,
   called Rogerius, who, by means of elevating the powers of his soul, and
   suspending them in God during refection, lost all perception of taste
   in eating; and when he found himself unable so to elevate his soul, he
   would for so long forbear to eat of anything that might afford any
   gust. But this practice belongs only to the perfect; it may prove
   prejudicial and dangerous to the ordinary sort of less perfect souls,
   or any that have not an especial and certain inspiration to imitate it.

   18. The like may be said of the manner of mortification practised by
   some of the ancient hermits, who used to mix a few dops of oil
   (esteemed by them a great delicacy) with their vinegar, to the end
   thereby to provoke the appetite to desire more, the which they denied
   to it. Or of another who, having received a bunch of grapes, ravenously
   devoured them, partly to make the gustful pleasure so much the shorter,
   and partly (as he said) to cozen the devil, to whom he desired to
   appear a glutton.

   19. A soul that practises internal prayer may content herself with a
   moderate attention to what is read during refection. And the like may
   be said of that part of the office which in some communities is said
   immediately after dinner. Because too earnest an attention and
   recollectedness at such such times would prejudice the head and
   stomach. A soul, therefore, may esteem this to be as a time of
   desolation, as indeed there is some resemblance.

   20. Concerning the use of physic, and cautions to be used about it,
   some instructions shall be given in the last treatise, where we come to
   speak how a soul is to behave herself in regard of her prayer during
   sickness.

   21. Lastly, the matter of sleep is not unworthy the care of a spiritual
   person. For certain it is that a full repast doth not so much plunge a
   soul in sensuality, nor so indispose her for spiritual exercises, as a
   long and profound sleep; from whence even a perfect soul will not be
   able to raise herself into exercises of the spirit without much
   difficulty and long striving.

   22. And on these grounds, doubtless, it was that the midnight office
   was appointed, to the end to interrupt sleep; yea, anciently the three
   nocturns were therefore divided, namely, to prevent the immersing of
   souls in sensual nature.

   23. For imperfect souls, it may be very prejudicial for them to be
   deprived of a convenient measure of sleep, yet it is very fitting it
   should be interrupted. It is likewise good for them to go to bed with
   an affection and desire to be early up, for such an affection will
   cause their sleep to be mixed with a little solicitude, which will
   dispose them both to wake sooner and to rise with less unwillingness.

   24. In case that one being in bed cannot sleep, it is very dangerous to
   continue in a state of mere negligence and idleness, because then not
   only vain but very hurtful and pernicious thoughts will be apt to pass
   into the mind. For a prevention or remedy against which, I should by no
   means advise one to betake himself to any seriously-recollected
   thoughts or exercises of devotion, for that would quite hinder sleep
   for the future and spoil the next day's recollections. (The like I say
   of the time immediately going before bed-time.) But in case they be
   simply vain thoughts that then wander unsettled in his mind, let him
   not willingly pursue them, but rather neglect them. Whereas, if they be
   sinful imaginations, let him, as well as he can, divert quietly his
   mind from them, and now and then without much force lift up his mind
   unto God, or use some familiar prayers, or say the beads without much
   forced attention; yet more attention is required against sinful than
   vain thoughts.

   25. As for perfect souls, their prayer in such a case will less hinder
   sleep, by reason it is both so pure and so facile that it is become
   almost as natural as breathing, and performed without any agitation of
   the spirits, or revolving of images in the internal senses.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VII.

   S: 1. Of the mortification of anger by patience.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5. Here is treated of smaller impatiences chiefly, scarce
   observable but by recollected livers.

   S: 6. Patience to be exercised at all times, even in joy and
   prosperity.

   S:S: 7, 8, 9. We ought to aspire to an indifference.

   S: 10. Patience towards God afflicting us is easier than towards man.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. Seven degrees of patience.

   S: 19. Examples of seemingly extravagant kinds of patience.

   S: 20. Prayer the only efficacious instrument to get patience.

   S: 21. All actions except prayer are in some degree defectuous.

   1. The next passion to be mortified is anger, the which whosoever
   willingly suffers to arise and increase, or that deliberately yields to
   trouble of mind for any matter that concerns the body, health,
   fortunes, life, &c.--yea, or pretended soul's good--such an one really
   makes more esteem of them than of the solid good of his soul; for, as
   far as anger gets a mastery over him, so far he loses that dominion
   that his soul ought to have over all other things, and puts reason out
   of its throne. Hereupon our Saviour saith: In patientia vestra
   possidebitis animas vestras; that is, By patience ye shall keep the
   possession of your souls,' as implying that by impatience we lose that
   possession; and what greater loss can we have? Hence it is also that
   almost in all languages he that is in any great impatience is said to
   be out of himself.

   2. Now the advices which I shall give for the repressing of impatience
   do not regard those great excesses of fury too common in the
   world--though it is to be hoped unknown in an internal state--but only
   those lesser inordinate passions of impatience and irresignation, or
   those smaller impetuosities of nature which may sometimes befall devout
   souls, by which the necessary peace of mind is disturbed, the habit of
   propriety increased, and the merit even of our best works of obligation
   diminished.

   3. As we said that love (which is the root of all other passions and
   affections) is due only to and for God, so consequently all passions
   contrary to love, all aversions, impatiences, &c., are to be directed
   only against that which is directly contrary to God: the which no
   persons are, nor no actions or sufferings, which are not sinful.
   Therefore all such passions, against any persons whatsoever, or any
   accidents befalling us from any, are inordinate and sinful to the
   proportion and measure of the said passions.

   4. Even the most solitary liver will not have reason to complain of
   want of occasions to exercise patience, for, besides the crosses
   happening by God's providence from without (against which all
   impatience is interpretatively impatience against God Himself), a soul
   aspiring to perfection must observe even the smallest motions passing
   in the heart, the which will be apt to rise even against the vilest
   creatures, as vermin, flies, &c.--yea, inanimate things, as pens, ink,
   &c. There are also certain propensions in the will without any
   perceptible motion about the heart, so secret and subtle that they can
   hardly be expressed, the which perfect souls, by the light proceeding
   from prayer, do discern and contradict. None are wholly free from these
   inordinations; even the most quiet natures will find unequal
   inclinations which they ought to mortify.

   5. Such is the difference, saith Cassian, between a perfect internal
   liver and one that is imperfect, as there is between a clear-sighted
   man and one that is purblind. A purblind man in a room sees only the
   grosser things, as chairs, tables, &c., but takes no notice of an
   infinite number of smaller matters, with their colours, distances,
   order, &c., all which are plainly distinguished by a clear-sighted man,
   who will observe many defects and inequalities invisible to others. So
   it is in regard of our inward defects. An imperfect soul only takes
   notice of grosser imperfections, and strives to amend them only, and
   that being done, conceives herself arrived to great perfection, when,
   alas, there yet remains a world of imperfections, only visible to eyes
   enlightened with supernatural grace (to be obtained only by pure
   internal prayer), the which will discover how strongly rooted and
   deeply fixed all passions are in the soul, and how souls deceive
   themselves who in prosperity do so wholly abandon themselves to joy, as
   if nothing could happen that could diminish it; and contrarily in
   sorrow; as we find examples in Suso, and the monk cured from a great
   inward affliction by [84]St. Bernard, as likewise in David, who saith
   of himself: Ego dixi in excessu meo, &c.; that is, Being in an excess
   of mind through Divine consolation, I said, I shall never be moved.'
   But he found presently how he was mistaken, for it follows (Avertisti
   faciem tuam, &c.), Thou only didst turn thy face from me, and presently
   I became troubled.'

   6. Therefore spiritual persons at all times must exercise patience,
   even in times of joy, by expecting a change thereof; which perhaps is
   to be desired, because the way to perfection is by a continual
   succession of mountings and descendings, to all which they must be
   indifferent, or rather they must think their more secure abode to be in
   valleys than on mountains.

   7. All commotion of anger or aversion is according to the degree of
   self-love remaining, the which is never to be accounted subdued till we
   be in a perfect indifference to all creatures, actions, or sufferings,
   as considered in themselves. I say, as considered in themselves, for if
   such actions, sufferings, &c., be of obligation, we are not to be in
   such indifference, but are to be more affected to the obligation, for
   that is but to affect God, from whom all our obligations do proceed.
   Yet if a work of obligation be agreeable to our nature, we must take
   heed of tying our affections to it under that notion, the which we
   express by doing such works with more than usual diligence, haste, and
   impetuosity. In such case, therefore, imperfect souls ought to perform
   such a work as pausingly and mortifiedly as the work will well permit;
   and if it require haste, let them endeavour to do it with internal
   resignation and indifference, at least in the superior will. On the
   contrary, if it be a work from which their nature is averted, then the
   more cheerfully and speedily they perform it, the more perfectly do
   they behave themselves, so that such speed do not proceed from a desire
   of gaining favour, or to have it despatched quickly out of the way.

   8. The profession of aspiring to perfection in a contemplative life
   requires, not only patience and indifference in such crosses as we
   cannot avoid, but also that we be not solicitous in seeking to avoid
   them, although lawful means were offered; on the contrary, to entertain
   and make much of them, in case the soul finds inward strength
   sufficient to entertain them.

   9. A spiritual person living in perfect abstraction may rather have
   need and hath more leisure to exercise himself sometimes in supposed
   imagined difficulties devised by himself than one that lives a
   distracted life. Such an one, therefore, may judge of his impatience
   either by remembering some injury passed or feigning one present, and
   thereupon observing whether, or how far, anger is stirred in him.

   10. Matters about which patience is exercised if they come from men, as
   hurts, injuries, persecutions, &c., are generally more bitter than
   those that come from God, though in themselves greater, as sickness,
   losses, &c.; because other men are but equal to us--we know not their
   secret intentions, but are apt to suspect the worst--therefore we take
   such things worse at their hands than we would at God's, who, besides
   that He is omnipotent and has the supreme dominion over us, we know
   that His goodness is infinite, so that we can assure ourselves that all
   His dealings towards us are meant for our good, though sometimes we do
   not see how they can contribute to it. And as for matters of affliction
   that through imprudence or any other defect we bring upon ourselves, we
   are less moved to impatience by them (though often to a secret shame),
   because that, besides that we are too apt to excuse and favour
   ourselves, we are secure that we mean well to ourselves.

   11. We may conceive these following degrees to be in patience, all
   which must be ascended before we can attain to the perfection of this
   virtue.

   12. The first degree is to have a serious desire of patience, and
   however in the superior will to endeavour to hold patience upon any
   provocation; and if this cannot be had at first, yet to procure it as
   soon as may be, at least before the sun pass, or in the next
   recollection; and, however, to restrain the tongue and outward members
   from expressing impatience, though perhaps as yet anger cannot be
   prevented from showing itself in sour looks. A person therefore that
   ordinarily cannot abstain from deliberate angry speeches, or, which is
   worse, from passionate actions (in which the deliberation is greater),
   has not as yet attained the lowest degree of patience.

   13. The second is, to use all endeavours to guard the heart, not
   suffering the contradiction or cross to enter into it, or move passions
   in it, but to esteem the provocations as not worth the considering, or
   rather as a matter from which we may reap much good.

   14. The third is, to use the mildest words and friendliest looks we can
   to the person provoking us, and not only to desire but endeavour also
   to procure his good, and to lay obligations upon him.

   15. The fourth is, to imitate the prophet David, who said (Improperium
   expectavit cor meum et miseriam), My soul expected scornful upbraiding
   and affliction.' This degree does not oblige us to seek voluntary
   mortifications, but only not to be solicitous to avoid them. And God
   oft inspires into His servants a desire that occasions of exercising
   their patience may be afforded them, yea, and sometimes to seek them,
   as St. Syncletica begged of St. Athanasius to assign unto her a cross
   ill-natured person to be attended on by her, the which being granted
   her, she came to attain this virtue in great perfection, suffering all
   her froward insupportable humours with facility and joy.

   16. The fifth degree is showed in bearing with resignation and peace
   internal crosses, aridities, &c., which are far more grievous than
   external ones, especially that great desolation sent by God for the
   purifying of perfect souls, of which we shall speak in the following
   treatise.

   17. Sixthly, a great addition is made to the grievousness of these
   internal crosses, and consequently to patience in bearing them, when
   they are accompanied with external afflictions also. This was our
   Lord's case on the cross, when to the intolerable torments of His body
   was added internal desolation.

   18. The seventh and supreme degree of patience is to suffer all these
   things, not only with quietness, but joy. This is a degree more than
   human, being a supernatural gift of God, by which, not only the
   superior will without any repugnance doth receive and embrace things
   most contrary to nature, but the sensuality makes no opposition
   neither, though they should come suddenly and without preparation. Now
   I know not whether ever any mere creature (except our Blessed Lady)
   hath ever arrived to so high a degree of perfection in this life as to
   become wholly impassible.

   19. St. John Climacus mentions two examples of two holy persons that
   seem somewhat extravagant. The first is of one that having received an
   injury, and being not at all moved with it, yet desiring to conceal his
   patience, made great complaints to his brethren, expressing a
   counterfeit great commotion of passion. The other was of a very humble
   soul that abhorred ambition, yet pretended an impatient desire and
   pursuit after offices and great irresignation when they were refused.
   But (saith our author) we must take heed lest, by imitating such
   practices, we come much rather to deceive our own souls than the devil
   or others.

   20. All other means whatsoever used for the procuring of patience
   without pure internal prayer, will produce little better than a
   philosophical mortification mixed with secret undiscovered interests of
   nature. But by prayer joined with exercise of patience out of it the
   very soul will be rectified, and in time come to such an established
   peacefulness that nothing will be able to disturb it; no, scarce the
   persons themselves, if they had a mind to it. This amendment will be
   imperceptible, as progress in such prayer is; but after some convenient
   space of time there will be a certain general sense and feeling of it,
   and this ere we be aware. And the way that perfect souls take for the
   perfecting of themselves in this virtue, is not so much by a direct
   purposed exercise and combat against special defects or passions, as by
   a universal transcending of all created things, by means of an
   elevation of spirit and drowning it in God.

   21. Hereupon a holy hermit in Cassian seems to account all our actions
   whatsoever, except only the actual exercise of contemplation, to be
   defectuous. His reason I suppose to be, because only during the time
   that a soul is in actual contemplation she is in God, perfectly united
   in spirit to Him, and consequently entirely separated from corrupt
   nature and sin. Whereas out of contemplation she is, at least in some
   measure, depressed in nature, and painted with the images of creatures
   which cannot but leave some small stains in the soul.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VIII.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of mortification of fear and scrupulosity, which is the most
   disquieting passion.

   S:S: 3, 4. What scrupulosity is.

   S:S: 5, 6. Advices here given only belong to such as truly desire to
   lead internal lives. And why?

   S: 7. Scrupulosity, though a pernicious passion, yet is only incident
   to the tenderest consciences.

   S:S: 8, 9. Souls at the beginning of a spiritual course are usually
   very tender and scrupulous. And why? Therefore it is necessary (and
   easy) to prevent scrupulosity in the beginning.

   S: 10. The order according to which the following advices are disposed.

   1. The next passion to be mortified is fear; to which we will add
   grief, not as if they were not quite different passions, but because
   ordinarily the grief which is in well-minded souls that lead internal
   lives, proceeds from fear and scrupulosity, and not from such causes as
   procure griefs in secular minds, as loss of goods, friends, &c., or the
   feeling of pains, &c.

   2. Now fear seems to be, of all other passions, the most disquieting;
   for though grief regarding the same object really adds this excess to
   fear, that it supposes the evil to be present, which to fear is only
   future; and a present ill, as such, is more afflicting than an evil
   only expected. Yet fear respecting the evil in the imagination, and as
   yet unknown, apprehends it according as the imagination will represent
   it, which ordinarily is far greater than in reality it is, yea, as in a
   sort infinite. And, moreover, such an apprehension sets the
   understanding on work, either to contrive means to avoid it, or if that
   be difficult, to invent new motives of unquietness and anxiety, which
   is far greater in evils in which we are uncertain how great they may
   be, and how soon they may befall us.

   3. The special kind of fear, the mortification of which we are now to
   treat of, is such an one as is incident more particularly to tender
   devout souls (especially women) that pursue the exercises of a
   contemplative life, the which is usually called scrupulosity, which is
   a mixed kind of passion, the most contrary to that peace of mind
   necessary in a spiritual course of any other, as being envenomed with
   whatsoever causes anxiety and inward torments almost in all other
   passions. It regards sin and hell the most abhorred and most terrible
   objects of all others; and it is composed of all the bitternesses that
   are found in fear, despair, ineffectual desires, uncertainty of
   judgment, jealousy, &c.; and penetrating to the very mind and spirit,
   obscuring and troubling the understanding (our only director), and
   torturing the will, by plucking it violently contrary ways almost at
   the same time, it causes the most pestilent disorders that a
   well-meaning soul is capable of, insomuch as if it be obstinately
   cherished, it sometimes ends in direct frenzy, or, which is worse, a
   desperate forsaking of all duties of virtue and piety. And where it is
   in a less degree, yet it causes images so distracting, so deeply
   penetrating, and so closely sticking to the mind, and by consequence is
   so destructive to prayer with recollectedness, that it deserves all
   care and prudence to be used for the preventing or expelling it.

   4. For which purpose I will here, according to the best light that God
   has given me, afford such tender souls as are upon this rack of
   scrupulosity the best advices I can; and such as if they will have the
   courage to practise accordingly, I do not doubt, but through God's
   help, they will be preserved from the dangerous consequences of such a
   passion. I shall insist with more than an ordinary copiousness upon
   this subject, because this so dangerous a passion is but too ordinary
   among souls of the best dispositions.

   5. But in the first place I must make this protestation, that these
   following instructions (in which a great yet necessary condescendency
   is allowed in many cases) do belong unto, and application of them only
   to be made by such tender fearful souls as desire and intend sincerely
   to follow internal prayer and other duties of a spiritual life, with as
   much courage and diligence as their frailty will permit. Such do indeed
   too often stand in need, and are worthy of all assistance and
   indulgence that reason and a good conscience can possibly allow, as
   being persons that will probably turn all to the glory of God and good
   of their souls, and not to the ease or contentment of sensual nature
   (which they account their greatest enemy), and much less to unlawful
   liberty.

   6. I do protest, therefore, against all extroverted livers, or any of
   different tempers and exercises that shall presume to apply or assume
   unto themselves any indulgences, &c., here not belonging to them; for
   they will but mislead themselves, and reap harm by so doing. It seldom
   falls out that such persons have a fear of a sin committed, or of the
   mortal heinousness of it, but that it is very likely that it is such an
   one, and has been committed; and therefore, for no difficulty of
   nature, nor for the avoiding of trouble of mind, ought they to expect
   any dispensations from due examinations of their conscience, express
   confessions, &c. Whereas a thousand to one the forementioned tender
   souls do take those for mortal sins which are mere temptations, yea,
   perhaps pure mistakes; and therefore to oblige them to such strict
   examinations or confessions would only nourish their most distracting
   anguishes of mind and furnish them with new matters of scrupulosity.

   7. Now to encourage such tender well-minded souls to make use of these
   or any other the like advices proper for them, I desire them to take
   notice that that very disposition, to wit, a tender fearfulness of
   offending God, which renders them obnoxious to this so pernicious a
   passion, is such an one as, if they can avoid this inconvenience, will
   be the most advantageous of all others to enable them to make a speedy
   progress in internal ways, and to attain to purity of heart, the
   immediate disposition to contemplation above all other. So that this is
   the only snare that the devil has to hinder them, namely, by taking
   advantage from such tenderness to fill their minds full of multiplicity
   and unquiet apprehensions; with the which snare if they suffer
   themselves to be entangled, they will find that scrupulosity will be
   far from being effectual to cure any of their imperfections; yea, it
   will make contemplative prayer impossible to be attained, and God grant
   that those be the worst and most dangerous effects of it!

   8. Such tenderness of conscience that is natural to many, frequently
   happens to be much increased immediately after the entering into an
   internal course of life; and therefore, then, especial care ought to be
   used for the preventing of the fearful apprehensions which are the
   usual consequences of it. And the ground of such increase of tenderness
   at that time is not so much a conscience of former sins, as too severe
   a judgment of their present imperfections, which seem to be multiplied,
   by reason of the continual opposition that corrupt nature gives to
   their present exercises, as likewise because by the practice of such
   exercises they have a new light to discover a world of defects formerly
   invisible to them, Hence they become fearful of their present
   condition, and knowing as yet no other remedy but confession, they
   torment themselves with anxious preparations thereto; and their fears
   yet not ceasing by having received absolution, and besides, the same
   opposition of sensuality against internal prayer continuing, they begin
   to suspect their former confessions, which therefore they renew; so
   that all their thoughts almost are taken up with these suspicions of
   themselves, unsatisfactions in their confessions, &c. And by giving way
   to such anxious customary confessions, to which also perhaps they are
   encouraged by their indiscreet guides, they endanger themselves to
   contract an incurable disease of most pernicious scrupulosity and
   servile fear, from which terrible anguishes, dejectedness, and
   heartlessness in all spiritual duties do follow, with danger of
   rendering the state of religion, or at least of an internal life begun,
   a condition less fruitful, yea, more dangerous than a common
   extroverted life in the world would have been.

   9. Devout souls, therefore, are earnestly wished to make timely
   provision against these inconveniences, and courageously to resist
   scrupulosity in the beginning, according to the advices here following;
   and above all things to use their best endeavours and prudence (as far
   as it belongs to them), as likewise their prayers to God, that they
   fall not into the hands of directors that will feed this humour (to
   them in such a state most pernicious) of frequent iterated confessions,
   either particular or general. If such care be had in the beginning,
   there is no disease more easily curable; whereas by progress it gathers
   such strength, disordering the imagination, disquieting the passions,
   and corrupting even the judgment also, that it is scarce possible to
   find a remedy.

   10. Now to the end that the following advices may be more clear and
   distinct we will sort them according to tha several grounds from which
   usually scrupulosity doth proceed; the which are: 1. either internal
   temptations by suspected sinful thoughts and imaginations; 2. or
   certain defects, or supposed defects, incurred about external
   obligations, as saying the office, fasting, &c. In both which cases
   there is a strong suspicion of sin incurred, and an uncertainty of what
   heinousness that sin is, from whence follow unquiet examinations,
   scrupulous confessions often repeated, &c. First, therefore, we will
   treat of fear and scrupulosity arising from inward temptations by ill
   imaginations or thoughts, and afterward of the other.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IX.

   S: 1. Of scrupulosity arising from certain inward temptations.

   S:S: 2, 3. Temptations are not in themselves ill, but rather a mark of
   God's love. Yet they are not to be sought.

   S: 4. Internal temptations very purifying.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8. Of inward temptations resting only in the mind; and
   advices against them.

   S: 9. Likewise touching those that cause also effects and motions in
   corporal nature.

   S:S: 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Prayer is by no means to be omitted
   for temptations, as being the best and securest remedy, inasmuch as all
   temptations are most efficaciously and perfectly resisted by conversion
   of the soul with love to God.

   1. The special kinds of inward temptations which do ordinarily afford
   matter of fear and scrupulosity to well-minded tender souls are, first,
   either such ill imaginations or thoughts as rest in the mind alone,
   without any other outward effect, such are thoughts: 1. of infidelity;
   2. of blasphemy; 3. of despair, &c.; or, secondly, such as withal have,
   or may cause an alteration in the body, such are thoughts of impurity,
   anger, &c.

   2. Now concerning temptations in general, the devout soul is to
   consider that it is no sin to have them; yea, being sent us by God,
   they are meant for our good, and to give us occasion to merit by them.
   And those which God sends us are the most proper for us; for if they
   were in our own choice we should choose least and last of all those
   that are most fit to humble us, and to withdraw our affections from
   ourselves and creatures; so that the more displeasing to us and
   afflicting that any temptations are the more profitable are they. Let
   none, therefore, be dismayed at the approach of temptations, but since
   self-love cannot be cured but by application of things contrary
   thereto, let us accept of them as a special gift of God, assuring
   ourselves that it would be perilous to be long without them. And if we
   cannot clearly see how our present temptation can turn to our profit we
   ought to content ourselves that God sees it; and otherwise He who is
   infinite wisdom and goodness would never have permitted them to befall
   us; therefore let faith supply knowledge or curiosity.

   3. Nevertheless, we must not voluntarily seek temptations, for (Qui
   amat periculum peribit in eo), He that loves danger shall perish
   therein,' saith the wise man. God will not deny spiritual strength to
   resist and make good use of temptations that by His providence befall
   us; yea, although it was by some precedent fault and negligence of ours
   that they befell us; but He has made no promise to secure us in a
   danger into which we voluntarily run.

   4. More particularly internal temptations are more beneficial and
   purifying, and they do more profoundly humble us than do outward pains
   or persecutions: 1. because they discover unto us (not the malice of
   others but) our own sinful natures, prone of themselves to all
   abominations; 2. and by them we come to be delivered, not from other
   creatures, but from ourselves, in which separation our chiefest and
   last conquered difficulty consists; 3. they send us for remedy to none
   but God; for what effect can any assistance, medicines, or other helps
   of creatures have against our own thoughts.

   5. And as for the special forenamed temptations a well-minded soul
   ought to consider that the simple passing of such thoughts or
   imaginations in the mind is no sin at all, though they should rest
   there never so long without advertence, but only the giving a
   deliberate consent unto them. Neither is it in the power of a soul
   either to prevent or banish them at pleasure, because the imagination
   is not so subject to reason as that it can be commanded to entertain no
   images but such as reason will allow, but it is distempered according
   to the disposition of the humours and spirits in the body; and
   sometimes the devil also is permitted to inject or raise images to the
   disquieting of tender souls, but he can force none to consent to the
   suggestions proceeding from them.

   6. There is less danger of consenting unto temptations merely
   spiritual, such as are thoughts of blasphemy, despair, &c., and
   consequently less likelihood of scrupulosity from a suspicion of such
   consent. Though sometimes they may be so violent and so obstinately
   adhering that the fancy will become extremely disordered, and the soul
   will think herself to be in a kind of hell where there is nothing but
   blaspheming and hating of God.

   7. Her best remedy is quietly to turn her thoughts some other way, and
   rather neglect than force herself to combat them with contrary
   thoughts, for by neglecting them the impression that they make in the
   imagination will be diminished. She may do well also, by words or
   outward gestures, to signify her renouncing and detestation of them, as
   in a temptation of blasphemy let her pronounce words and express
   postures of adoration of God, praise, love, &c.; let her be also the
   more diligent in frequenting the choir, continuing more carefully in
   postures of humility before Him. And doing thus, let her banish all
   suspicions of having consented as being morally impossible.

   8. Certain it is that however troublesome and horrid soever such
   temptations may seem to be, yet they, being quietly resisted, or rather
   neglected, do wonderfully purify the soul, establishing Divine love
   most firmly and deeply in the spirit. Moreover, by occasion of them the
   superior soul is enabled to transcend all the disorders and tumults in
   inferior nature, adhering to God during the greatest contradictions of
   sensuality.

   9. As for the other sort of inferior temptations, which are more gross,
   causing oft disorderly motions and effects in corporal nature, it will
   be more difficult to persuade timorous souls that they have not
   consented, both by reason that such imaginations are more pertinacious
   and sticking to the corporal humours and spirits, and also because
   inferior nature is powerfully inclined to a liking of them, insomuch as
   that real effects and alterations may be wrought in the body before
   that reason be fully awake to resist them; yea, and after the
   resistance made by reason, yet such images continuing in the fancy and
   such motions in the body, the mind will be stupefied, and the
   resistance of reason will ofttimes be so feeble as that in the opinion
   of the person it will pass for no resistance at all; yea, rather the
   soul will be persuaded that she has deliberately consented, considering
   the continuance of them, after that she was fully awake, and had
   reflected on them.

   10. Notwithstanding, unless in such souls the reason do not only
   reflect upon the sinfulness of such impure thoughts, if consented to,
   but likewise unless in the very same instant that she makes such a
   reflection the will be deliberately moved to the approving of them,
   they may be assured that there has passed no culpable consent to them.
   Again, if the general disposition of such souls be such as that seldom
   or never either speeches or deliberate actions do proceed from them
   comformable to such impure imaginations, they may confidently judge
   that there is no danger of having incurred a mortal sin.

   11. Above all things the devout soul is to be careful that she be not
   disheartened by occasion of such temptations from pursuing constantly
   her appointed recollections the best she can, notwithstanding that
   then, above all other times, such thoughts will throng into her mind,
   so that she will think it almost unlawful to appear before God, being
   full of such impure images. But she is to consider that now is the
   proper time to show her fidelity to God. No thanks to her if she adhere
   to God when nature makes no opposition, but rather finds a gust in it.
   But if amidst these tempests of corrupt nature she will firmly adhere
   to God when such adhesion becomes so extremely painful to her, this is
   thanksworthy; then she will show herself a valiant soldier of our Lord,
   and worthy of that testimony that He gives of her, who has judged her
   fit and capable of encountering such furious enemies.

   12. A great blessing and happiness it is that in all internal
   confusions, obscurities, &c., we can always make an election of God
   with the superior will, which being effectually done, whatsoever
   disorders are in the imagination or in inferior nature, they do rather
   increase than prejudice our merit.

   13. Indeed this is that great, most efficacious, and universal remedy
   against all temptations, to wit, an actual conversion of the soul to
   God in prayer; for thereby the soul being united to God, either she
   will lose the image and memory of the temptation for the present, or,
   however, she doth with far more efficacy oppose and work contrary to
   such temptations, than if she had fixed her eyes with a direct
   renouncing and detestation of them; for in an actual union with God is
   included a virtual detestation of all things contrary to Him, both for
   present and future, and also thereby the soul adheres to her only good,
   with whom they are absolutely inconsistent.

   14. This remedy, therefore, which contains in it all the virtue of all
   other particular remedies, is often and seriously to be recommended to
   internal contemplative livers (for, indeed, none but such as live
   abstracted lives can, without great force and difficulty, be in a
   disposition at pleasure to introvert and recollect themselves).
   However, let every soul that is capable thereof use it. It is the
   plainest, easiest, securest, and most infallible cure of all others.

   15. Those that are thoroughly practised in prayer cannot only be united
   in will to God, but perceive themselves to be so united, whilst in the
   mean time both the representation of these temptations remain in the
   imagination and understanding, and much trouble likewise in inferior
   nature, all which, notwithstanding, are not any hindrance or prejudice
   to such union; yea, by occasion of these things a more perfect and
   intense union may be caused.

   16. The light obtained by prayer for the discovering of the causes,
   grounds, and remedies of such temptations, and the grace to resist
   them, is wonderful and incredible to those that do not practise prayer;
   by neglect of which many live in the midst of temptations, and yet do
   not know them to be such, or knowing them, yet have no strength nor
   will to resist them. But most certain it is, that a soul which duly
   prosecutes internal prayer, according to her present abilities, can
   scarce possibly be overcome with a temptation as habitually to yield to
   it, or, however, to die in it. Indeed, there is no security that a soul
   ordinarily is capable of in this life but by the means of prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER X.

   S: 1. Of scrupulosities about external duties, as the Office, fasting,
   &c.

   S: 2. Tender souls ought to seek full information touching such
   obligations, which is not out of politic ends to be denied them.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5, 6. Several cases of indulgence about the Office.

   S:S: 7, 8, 9, 10. Some learned doctors do free particular religious
   persons (not in holy orders) from a necessary obligation of saying the
   Office in private.

   S: 11. An advice touching the same.

   1. In the next place, the special external duties about which tender
   souls are apt to admit scrupulosities are many; yea, some are so
   inordinately timorous that they can give way to unsatisfaction in
   almost everything that they do or say. But the principal and most
   common, especially in religion, are these: 1. the obligation of
   religious persons to poverty, obedience, regular fasting, saying of the
   Office in public or private, &c.; 2. the duty of examination of the
   conscience in order to confession, and confession itself, with
   communicating afterward.

   2. The general proper remedy against scrupulosity arising upon occasion
   of any of these matters is a true information of the extent of the said
   obligations. And surely spiritual directors are obliged to allow as
   much latitude to well-minded timorous souls in all these things as
   reason will possibly admit, considering that such are apt to make a
   good use of the greatest condescendency. Therefore it would be a fault
   inexcusable before God, if confessors, out of a vain policy and to the
   end to keep tender souls in a continual dependence and captivity under
   them, should conceal from them any relaxations allowed by doctors or
   just reason. And timorous souls, when they have received information
   from persons capable of knowing, and unlikely to deceive them, ought to
   believe and rest upon them, and to account all risings of fear or
   suspicion to the contrary to be unlawful.

   3. More particularly forasmuch as concerns the Divine Office, since all
   that understand Latin may acquaint themselves with all the
   dispensations and largest allowances afforded by doctors, I conceive it
   most requisite that such ignorant tender souls (especially women) as
   may come to see or read these instructions, should not be left in an
   ignorance or uncertainty hereabout; for why should any additional
   burdens of a religious life lie more heavy on those that are least able
   to bear them, and such as will be far from being less careful in
   obliging observances, less submissive to authority, and less assiduous
   in the service of God?

   4. Therefore, forasmuch as concerns the public conventual reciting of
   the Office, they may take notice that the obligation thereto does not
   at all lie upon particular religious under sin, except when they have
   been pro tempore expressly commanded by superiors to frequent the choir
   at such or such a determinate time; at other times they may be penanced
   for negligence, and ought to submit willingly thereto. But the
   obligation under sin to see that duty discharged lies only upon
   superiors.

   5. Again, when they are in the choir, in case that when others are
   repeating the Office they are employed about anything that concerns the
   church, as lighting of candles, fetching or turning of books, music,
   &c., they are not obliged to repeat such parts of the Office as have
   passed during such their employments. Neither is it necessary, in case
   of any considerable feebleness, that they should strain their voices to
   the tone of the convent, unless by reason of the paucity of the
   religious the Office through their silence cannot be solemnly
   discharged. Moreover, if any reasonable occasion concerning the Office
   require their going out of the choir, they are not bound to repeat
   afterwards what shall have been said in the mean time, but at their
   return they may content themselves to join with the community, &c.

   6. But as touching the saying of the Office in private, it is the
   general vote of learned men: 1. that a very ordinary indisposition will
   suffice to dispense; 2. that the mistake of one office for another is
   not considerable, since it is only a day's office is enjoined, and not
   such a determinate office; 3. that if a few verses now and then were
   omitted, that being but a very small part of the whole, is not
   valuable; 4. that none are obliged to repetition for want of attention,
   or for not exact pronunciation, &c.; 5. that scrupulous souls being in
   an uncertainty whether they have said such a particular hour, or other
   considerable part of the Office, are not obliged to say it; 6. as for
   the times of saying each part, the liberty allowed is fully large
   enough. Other indulgences there are generally permitted, of which they
   may do well to inform themselves. These will suffice to show that the
   burden is not so great as many good tender souls do apprehend.

   7. But the root of all these and all other scrupulous difficulties in
   this matter is taken away by the positive assertion of certain learned
   doctors, not censured or condemned by any, viz. that no religious
   persons, except they be in holy orders, are bound to the reciting of
   the Divine Office in private under mortal sin (and if it were any sin
   at all to omit it, it would be a mortal sin, being evidently in materia
   gravi).

   8. The principal authors of this assertion are Lessius--a very learned
   Jesuit--and Marchantius--a most prudent, learned, and conscientious
   Provincial of the holy Order of St. Francis, who, being taught by long
   experience in treating with tender souls, professes that he thought
   himself obliged in conscience, in duty to God, and charity to timorous
   souls, to publish this assertion. And the reasons given for it seem to
   be very pressing and concluding, because the simple not reciting of the
   Office being not in itself evil--for then all seculars not reciting it
   should sin (mortally)--there can be named no title under which it can
   be made obligatory.

   9. For, 1. all those that would maintain the contrary opinion do
   profess that there is no law for it; for although our holy [85]Rule
   advises that in case any considerable number of religious by means of
   any employment should be hindered from the choir, they should in the
   place of such their employment recite the Office in common, yet it
   gives no order at all to single religious persons in that case; 2. the
   foundation and sustentation of religious communities is not as that of
   cures or canonries, to which there is correspondent by a debt of
   justice and virtual contracts the reciting of the canonical Office, so
   that restitution is due in case of omission. But to foundations of
   monasteries and pious oblations are correspondent only the performances
   and observances of religious vows, fasts, austerities, conventual
   prayer, aspiring to contemplation, &c., with respect to which only
   oblations were made to convents, not under a title of justice, but
   charity.

   10. There remains, therefore, no other pretence for an obligation of
   particular religious not in sacris to a private reciting of the Office,
   but only custom that has the virtue of a law. Now Cajetan doubts
   whether de facto there be any custom of it at all; for certain it is
   that it is not universally received, neither is it by privilege that
   some do not receive it. However, if there be a custom, yet that it has
   not the force of a law may appear: 1. because if it had been introduced
   by authority of superiors it would have been established by
   constitutions, which yet hath never been done, neither hath any
   inquisition been made at visits of the breach of such a custom as a
   fault; 2. because those doctors that most urge the obligation thereto,
   yet never pretend the omitting to be a mortal sin: and surely if it be
   not a mortal sin it is none at all; 3. because several learned men have
   publicly, without censure, protested against any obligation flowing
   from such a custom, which would never have been permitted if prelates
   and superiors had an intention that their subjects should esteem such a
   custom obligatory; 4. because there are certain orders, as the
   Franciscans, the nuns of the Annunciata, &c., which by their Rule and
   an express vow are obliged to the reciting of the Office in particular,
   in case of absence from the choir, which would he ridiculous if the
   general custom was presumed to be sufficiently obliging; 5. the same is
   proved by a parity; for whereas a custom had been generally introduced
   among the Cistercians by the ancients of the Order of reciting the
   Office of our Blessed Lady and of the Dead, yet in General Chapter,
   A.D. 1618, it was declared that this custom, though introduced by the
   ancients and superiors, yet had not the force of a law. [16]

   11. All this notwithstanding, according to the opinion of the said
   authors we may conceive this to be a custom very laudably practised by
   devout souls, and has been indeed received under title of piety and a
   convenient holy exercise, which if it should be causelessly neglected,
   contemned, or transgressed, a person so transgressing, if he did it out
   of indevotion and want of fervour in matters of piety, might justly be
   condemned, or at least esteemed a person indevout and negligent; the
   which fault yet may be remedied some other more commodious way than by
   laying a snare upon tender souls, or misinforming them.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [16] [Father Baker's opinion upon the non-obligation of reciting the
   Divine Office in private by nuns cannot now be followed. St. Alfonso
   Liguori, Lib. iv. cap, ii. no. 142, discusses the question, Whether
   religious men, not in holy orders, and nuns are under a grievous
   obligation to recite the Divine Office daily, at least in private;' and
   he declares that they are so obliged. Ferraris, Moniales, art. vi. nis
   1. 2, establishes the obligation beyond any doubt, and cites numerous
   authorities.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER XI.

   S: 1. Of the most bitter kind of scrupulosity touching Confession.

   S:S: 2, 3. Indiscreet rigour of confessors in this point very harmful
   to tender souls.

   S: 4. Several instructions and advices concerning this matter.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7. Absolute and exact obedience to spiritual directors (with
   prayer) is the only remedy.

   S:S: 8, 9, 10, 11. The strange obstinacy and subtle perversity in some
   good souls in finding and justifying escapes from obedience.

   S:S: 12, 13. The great harm proceeding from scrupulous examinations and
   confessions.

   S:S: 14, 15. A form of examination of conscience proper for many
   scrupulous souls.

   S:S: 16, 17. The conscience of tender scrupulous persons is not
   properly a doubting conscience, but only fearful.

   S:S: 18, 19, 20. Constancy in prayer most efficacious against
   scrupulosity.

   S:S: 21, 22. Confession of venial sins is profitable, but yet not
   universally to all souls.

   S:S: 23, 24, 25. The chief trial of obedience is at the times of
   communicating. Advices thereabout.

   S:S: 26, 27, 28. Security in following such instructions as these.

   S:S: 29, 30, 31. The root of scrupulosity is tepidity; and often also a
   corporal distemper.

   1. Whatsoever the matters or occasions are that cause scrupulosity in
   tender souls, the bitterness thereof is felt especially in confessing
   of them, or preparing themselves to such confession. For then it is
   that all former unsatisfactions recur to their memory, and new
   examinations are made, and not only all the supposed faults, but also
   the former examinations and confessions are again examined and
   confessed; for to such souls, partly out of ignorance in the nature,
   degrees, and circumstances of sins, and partly having their minds
   darkened by fear, all sins appear to them to be mortal, or for ought
   they know they may be mortal, and that suspicion, or even possibility,
   is sufficient to pierce them through with grief and fear.

   2: The misery of such self-afflicting souls is much increased and
   rendered almost irremediable by indiscreet counsellors, unwary writers
   of spiritual matters, and such as are inexperienced in internal ways,
   who in the practice of Penance and Confession use the same rules and
   measure towards all souls indifferently, giving advices in general
   terms, which yet are proper only for the common sort of souls living in
   the world; who commend the repetition of general confessions,
   prescribing nice rules for examination; who enjoin all their penitents
   in a case of uncertainty and doubt, whether a sin be mortal or no, to
   choose that which appears to their prepossessed judgments the safer
   side, and therefore to be sure not to omit it in Confession; who
   recommend daily and almost hourly examinations of conscience; who extol
   the virtue and efficacy of sacraments without sufficient regard to the
   dispositions, and therefore indifferently encourage souls to frequent
   confessions, yea, even when they can find no present matter; in such a
   case advising them to repeat the mentioning of any one or more sins
   formerly confessed, merely to continue a custom of confessing, and to
   gain a new access of grace by virtue of the keys, &c. Now such advices
   and instructions as these may possibly be good for some negligent souls
   living extroverted lives (if that a proportionable care were also taken
   that penitents should bring due dispositions to the sacraments, without
   which the effects wrought by them will be far from their expectations);
   but that which is a cure for ordinary souls may, and frequently doth,
   prove poison to such tender scrupulous persons as we now treat of.

   3. Therefore, surely a confessor or director that has any taste of
   internal ways, and any spiritual prudence and clarity, when he is to
   treat with souls that he sees have truly a fear of God and a sensible
   horror of offending Him, even in a proportion beyond what charity and
   due confidence do require, and that were it not that they are dejected
   by too great an apprehension of their guilt, would make great progress
   in the Divine love; perceiving likewise (after some experience and
   insight into their lives, exercises, and manners of their confessions)
   that such souls accuse and judge themselves and their actions, not by
   any light of reason or knowledge in the true nature and degrees of
   sins, but only by their own passion of fear, which corrupts their
   judgment, &c.; such confessors, I say, in these and the like
   circumstances, will not surely think it fit to deal with these as with
   the ordinary sort of tepid or negligent souls in the world that have
   need to be terrified, to have their consciences narrowly searched into,
   to be frequently brought before the spiritual tribunal. The like
   prudence is to be exercised also to such tender souls leading internal
   lives, who, though they are not actually scrupulous, either have been
   formerly or easily may be cast into it by rough or indiscreet usage.

   4. Therefore, surely these timorous and tender souls are to be told:
   first, that the end of their coming into religion, or of consecrating
   themselves to God in a life of contemplation, was not to enjoy the
   sacraments, which they might have had free use of in the world, but in
   the quietness of silence and solitude to seek God, and daily to tend to
   Him by internal exercises of love, resignation, &c., as also by a
   calming of all manner of passions; and that all external duties are
   only so far to be made use of as they contribute to the increase of
   this love, quietness of mind, and confidence in God. 2. That the
   Sacrament of Penance and Confession is a holy ordinance indeed,
   instituted by our Lord, not for the torment but ease of consciences,
   and to the end to bring souls to have a confidence in Him, and not a
   horror of approaching to Him. 3. That the administration of this
   sacrament is left to our Lord's priests, who alone are to be judges
   what sins are to be confessed, and in what manner. 4. That since it is
   evident that confession is their chiefest torment, causing effects in
   them so contrary to what our Lord intended, that therefore they should
   either abstain wholly from so frequent a custom of confessing, or to
   make their confessions only in the form that should be prescribed them.
   5. That such examinations of sins will abundantly serve their turn, as
   they would think fit to be used in any ordinary matter of importance,
   and as may be made in a very short space. 6. That oft it is far more
   profitable for them to exercise rather virtual acts of contrition and
   sorrow for sin, by converting themselves directly to God with acts of
   love, than by reflecting with passion upon their sins. 7. That those
   common maxims, viz. that it is the sign of a good conscience there to
   fear a fault where none is, and that nothing is to be done against
   conscience; likewise, that in doubtful cases the securest side is to be
   chosen, &c.: these maxims, I say, though in gross true, yet if they
   should be strictly applied to scrupulous persons, would utterly ruin
   the peace of their minds; for they are altogether incapable of judging
   what is against conscience, or what may be said to be doubtful,
   accounting everything that they fear (without being able to give any
   tolerable reason of their fear) to be against conscience, and to be
   doubtful. It is therefore the spiritual director or experienced
   confessor only that is to be judge of these things, who has no interest
   at all in the business but the good of his penitent's soul, who can
   judge without passion, who is appointed by God to be judge, and whose
   unfaithful dealing the penitent hath no reason to suspect.

   5. There is no possible way to be rid from scruples (besides the having
   immediate recourse to God by humble resigned prayer) but an entire
   indispensable obedience to prudent confessors, proceeding according to
   these or the like grounds and instructions, according to which if such
   tender souls take the courage to practise, notwithstanding any fears in
   sensitive nature, they will find their fears to decrease. Whereas, if
   they neglect or obstinately refuse to put them in practice, their fears
   will not only grow far more dangerous, but they will become inexcusable
   before Almighty God, and contract the heinous sin of disobedience,
   ingratitude, and wilful obstinacy and resistance against the light
   which God has given them.

   6. But withal they must know that they will never have sufficient
   strength and grace to obey against passion except they seriously
   practise internal prayer, which alone will make their obedience to
   become by custom far more easy, and also freed from that horror which
   at the first they will feel in sensitive nature.

   7. Neither ought they to suspect that their confessors, set over them
   by God for their good, do not understand their case aright. True it is
   they do not feel the pains they suffer, no more than corporal
   physicians do their patients', but yet they know the causes of it
   better than they do themselves, proceeding by a supernatural light not
   clouded by passion. And why should they pretend to know the causes,
   being ignorant of them? What interest is likely to corrupt their
   judgment? Would they for no reward or gain incur the displeasure of
   God?

   8. Notwithstanding, so subtle such souls are to their own prejudice,
   that though they should yield that their confessor knew their past
   state, yet they see some new circumstance which was either forgotten,
   or they doubt so, which may perhaps alter the whole case. As likewise
   every new sin or defect has something in it, to their seeming,
   different from the former, by which they make a shift to escape from
   obedience, yet they must know that not all these shifts will excuse
   them before God.

   9. Yea, they ought to consider that though indeed it were true that the
   confessor should happen to be mistaken, notwithstanding, the penitents
   practising bona fide according to his orders in a point of this nature
   about his confession (which is not a moral precept), should commit no
   sin, nor incur the least danger by it; yea, being an act of obedience
   for God's sake and in opposition to natural passion it should be an
   occasion of merit to them; so that though the sins suspected by them
   were indeed mortal, yet, he judging otherwise, they would not be
   obliged to confess them.

   10. But it is wonderful to see in souls very distrustful of themselves
   in all other matters, such an obstinate self-judgment in this, that
   they will neither be persuaded that they are scrupulous, though their
   wits be almost perished by scrupulosity; for if this were once
   admitted, plain reason would convince them that they ought not to be
   their own judges. As likewise in souls otherwise very innocent, humble,
   and most pliable to obedience, the pertinacious disobedience in this
   point of abstaining from confessing or renewing confessions of things
   forbidden them to be confessed is very strange; so that against the
   command of their present confessor and the advice of all the most
   learned doctors they will persist in their reluctance; and if their
   confessor will not admit them, they will forbear no means to find out
   others, though wholly unacquainted with their state, to hear their
   scrupulosities. And what other ground can there be of such disorder but
   only self-love deeply rooted in corrupt nature, and ofttimes the
   suggestion of the devil, to which such souls by reason of their
   disordered imaginations and passions are miserably exposed? They had
   rather confess their virtues for faults (as their having resisted their
   fears in compliance with obedience), than their really greatest fault,
   which is self-judgment and disobedience.

   11. A scrupulous fearful soul having been commanded to forbear
   examination and confession of such particulars as do cause unquietness
   in her, when she comes to put this in practice a double fear will
   present itself to her, the one of disobeying her confessor and the
   other of going against her natural judgment, which is contrary to her
   confessor's. But she ought to consider that the former fear has nothing
   of nature in it, yea, that it contradicts nature in its most sensible
   part, and therefore is far more worthy to take place. As for the fear
   of going against her own judgment, it proceeds wholly and only from
   nature, self-love, and a desire to be rid of her present pain that the
   memory of her faults causes in her, or the suggestions of the devil
   urging her to disobedience. Therefore, if she cannot expel this fear
   out of sensitive nature, she must accept it as a pain, but withal
   contradict it as a temptation.

   12. She ought to assure herself that more harm comes to her, and
   incomparably greater impediments in her exercise of prayer, &c., by
   indiscreet confessions, or examinations made merely to satisfy
   scrupulosity, than by all the defects that she would confess, which,
   being generally incurred out of frailty, do far less estrange her from
   God than such confessions do, by which she is habituated in self-will,
   self-judgment, and servile fear; all which are the more perilous,
   inasmuch as they have a pretence of duty to God and to the orders of
   His Church, as also of humility, and a desire to receive benefit by the
   sacrament, &c.

   13. Common reason will dictate that it is most unfit that, any one
   should be judge of his own state just at a time when a temptation or
   violent fear is actually predominant, the which do put the soul in a
   strange confusion and darkness. What a folly, therefore, and
   presumption would it be for a woman, ignorant, passionate, and fearful,
   to challenge the office of a judge in this case, and to think to
   regulate the judge that sits in God's seat!

   14. Let, therefore, fearful souls that are forbidden the usual ways of
   curious examinations of conscience and nice confessions, whensoever any
   scruple or suspicion concerning a mortal sin comes into their minds
   that would urge them to run for ease to confession, or that would
   affright them from communicating,--let them, I say, content themselves
   with asking their own consciences in one glance of their minds: Do I
   certainly know the matter of this fear to have been a mortal sin, and
   that it was really committed, and never confessed in any sort,
   defectively or exactly? And if their consciences do not answer that
   they are most certain of this, they may not only securely judge that
   they are not guilty, but they are obliged under sin to abstain from
   confession, in case they have been so commanded, and to proceed to
   communicating. For it is morally impossible that such tender souls
   should commit a mortal sin, but without any examination it will appear
   evidently to be mortal.

   15. This way of self-examination I (being warranted by learned authors)
   do seriously recommend to those souls that find that a punctual
   examination doth destroy the quiet of their minds, so that if after one
   short self-questioning they do not resolutely and positively determine
   that they have deliberately consented to a temptation, and committed a
   sin unquestionably mortal, let them resolve never after to trouble
   their thoughts with it; but if they should press them for a
   reexamination, let them neglect them and consider them as pure
   temptations.

   16. Such souls are not to esteem that a fear or suspicion that anything
   is a sin or mortal can be sufficient to make the case to be doubtful;
   for a doubt is when two opinions are represented to the mind, and the
   contrary reasons for each are so even and equal, that the judgment
   cannot determine itself to assent to either. Now a firm assent may be
   where there is a violent fear of the contrary at the same time. And a
   scrupulous person cannot ofttimes give any other reason or account of
   her fear, but that, for ought she knows, the matter is according to her
   fear.

   17. Amongst other subjects of scruple, one is a doubt in such souls
   whether they have true contrition for their faults or no. Whereas, if
   there be anything that hinders their sorrow from being true contrition,
   it is the excess of servile fear mixed with it, which they wilfully
   nourish with their scrupulosities; but, however, considering they are
   supposed to practise internal prayer in such manner as they are able,
   there is hardly any doubt to be made but that they have the true love
   of God, which makes sorrow for sin to be true contrition. The which may
   be performed either directly, by framing an efficacious act of sorrow
   and detestation of their sins, as offensive to God, and for His love;
   or only virtually (yet efficaciously), by producing an act of pure love
   to God, for thereby they do really avert themselves from whatever doth
   offend Him, or is contrary to such love (as sin is).

   18. And from hence may appear the great security that a soul has which
   pursues internal prayer, because every act of love or resignation
   performed purely for God doth restore a soul to the state of Grace, in
   case that by any precedent sins she hath fallen from that state. And if
   she hath not, it doth advance and establish her the more in Grace.

   19. There is not, therefore, a more assured general remedy against
   scrupulosity and all such inordinate fears than constancy in prayer.
   This alone will produce a courage to despise such fears, whensoever
   they would hinder a soul from performing obedience to the orders of her
   spiritual director.

   20. The security and necessity of which obedience, as likewise the
   culpableness and danger of proceeding according to the suggestions of
   fear, a devout soul may evidently collect from hence, viz. by observing
   that she never disobeys in virtue of light obtained by prayer, the
   which always dictates obedience and renouncing her own judgment, and
   contradicting her fears to her; and on the contrary, that she is
   tempted to transgress the orders of her confessor only at the time when
   fear is so violent upon her, and makes so deep an impression of her
   supposed faults in her mind, that she cannot then pray with
   resignation, and believes that then to obey her confessor would be to
   go against her own knowledge. Her security, therefore, must come from
   prayer, to which her humble obedience will dispose her; and on the
   contrary, scrupulous fears will render her utterly unfit. Therefore,
   souls which wilfully nourish their fears and scruples by frequent
   unpermitted confessions have very much to answer for before Almighty
   God for their wilful plunging themselves into a state which makes a
   perfect union with God impossible, thereby defeating the whole design
   of a religious internal life, as also for forsaking the ways of
   obedience, which almost in all possible cases are most full of
   security.

   21. It is far from my purpose to deter souls from frequent confessions,
   even of venial sins, when they find such confessions profitable to them
   and helps to their amendment; but otherwise, if by the means of such
   confessions they endanger themselves to run into mortal sins of the
   highest nature, as desperation or a wilful renouncing of all ways of
   piety, through the horror arising from their ignorance and incapacity
   to distinguish between mortal and venial sins,--then surely it were
   better for them to make use of other ways appointed by God for the
   expiating and purging of venial sins (such as are saying our Lord's
   Prayer, acts of humiliation and contrition, giving of alms, devout
   taking of holy water, &c.). And if they are desirous in some good
   measure to observe the ordinary times of confession, they may content
   themselves with expressing some such faults as they can with assurance
   and without disquietness declare, and all other faults may be involved
   in some general phrase or expression.

   22. If it be objected that by practising according to these
   instructions such souls will find nothing new to confess, and so will
   be deprived of the blessing and comfort of absolution, hereto I answer
   that it were happy if souls could find nothing expedient to be
   confessed. And surely the most effectual means to bring them to such
   happiness is according to these advices to free them from their
   dejecting scrupulosities, for as long as they remain, little effect of
   blessings can proceed from the best exercises or use of sacraments. We
   know that in ancient times innumerable saints attained to perfection
   with little or no use of confession (considering their remoteness from
   places where priests inhabited), by serious practice of prayer,
   abstraction of life, mortification, &c.; which means will doubtless
   have the same effect now, and without them confessions and communions,
   though daily practised, will have but small effect thereto. Now there
   is not in the world a mortification more effectual, more purifying, and
   more proper for such souls, than to obey God in their confessor,
   contrary to their own violent fears, scrupulosity, and seeming
   judgment.

   23. The proper season of the trial of obedience and submission of
   scrupulous souls is the time of communicating, because they know that
   there is necessary thereto not only the condition of being free from
   mortal sin, but likewise that a greater preparation is requisite; for
   in all states they may pray, say their Office, exercise mortification,
   &c., without a precedent confession (though it is with great dejection,
   heartlessness, and most grievous distractions that such souls apply
   themselves to internal prayer, &c.); but above all, communicating
   during their suspicions is most grievous and full of horror to them.

   24. In this case, therefore, a well-minded soul coming to communicate
   according to order prescribed by her confessor, and finding a fear to
   seize upon her, let her take courage, lifting up her heart to God in
   this or the like manner: My God, it is not by mine own choice, but in
   obedience to Thee speaking to me by my confessor, that I presume to
   approach to Thy altar. In Thy name, therefore, and hoping for Thy
   blessing, I will communicate, notwithstanding the horror and frights
   which I feel in my soul. These I accept as a pain, and I do resign
   myself to the continuance of them, as long as it shall be Thy pleasure
   for my humiliation. I hope and am assured that Thou wilt not condemn me
   for obedience, and for resisting the violent impulsions of my corrupt
   passions. It is only for the comfort of my soul that I desire to
   receive the precious Body of my Lord. If I did not think it to be Thy
   will that I should communicate now, I would abstain, though this were
   Christmas or Easter-day, and whatsoever confusion or shame I were to
   suffer for abstaining.' Having said or thought to this effect, let her
   freely communicate, and be assured she shall not incur the least
   danger, but, on the contrary, merit in a high degree. And in the same
   manner she may lift up her heart to God, whensoever in confession she
   abstains from mentioning such faults as do cause unquietness to her.

   25. Such souls may also do well to practise very often in private
   spiritual communicating, preparing themselves thereto by the
   forementioned brief and quiet examinations. Frequent practising after
   this manner will beget a confidence to it really upon occasions.

   26. Those souls to whom these instructions have been, or shall be,
   esteemed proper in the judgment of their spiritual directors must not
   be discouraged from following them by anything that shall be said by
   others, or by anything that they shall find in books; for there is
   nothing written here which may not be confirmed by the testimony and
   authority of learned and unquestioned doctors. They must therefore
   abstain from making consultations with others, or demanding their
   judgments or opinions, for otherwise there will be no end of troubles
   and distractions. Neither willingly or purposely ought they to read
   books made for the common sort of souls, and that give different
   advices, for that would be to put themselves wilfully into a
   temptation. But let them content themselves with these or the like
   instructions, reading them oft, and seriously resolving in and with
   prayer to practise accordingly, and they may, through God's blessing,
   expect a good success.

   27. Now they must not from hence expect advices to fit all cases, which
   are almost infinite. But according to their particular necessities they
   must apply these general instructions: observing the divine
   inspirations (especially in the time of prayer), their own experience,
   and sometimes likewise serving themselves of their natural judgment.
   For of this let them assure themselves, that if they will not resolve
   to obey till satisfaction be given them to all their scrupulous
   objections and fears, their case is desperate. If nothing will serve
   them but a riddance from the pain of the temptation, an angel from
   heaven will never be able to quiet and satisfy them. They must either
   obey, though with their eyes shut, or they will live and die in the
   same self-love and servile fear, which is a very dangerous state to die
   in.

   28. Yet those who must of necessity at the first be helped with relying
   upon the warrant of their confessors and directors must not finally
   rest there, but make use of such peace as by their means they can
   obtain, to dispose them to have recourse to our Lord, to learn
   confidence in Him, which will arise from frequent conversing with Him
   by prayer.

   29. To conclude this matter of scrupulosity: a general good way to cure
   it is by opposing it in its root and cause, which is either spiritual
   or corporal. The spiritual cause of scrupulosity is tepidity; for
   though it seems to be a humour full of solicitude, haste, and
   eagerness, yet the true ground ofttimes of it is an unwillingness and
   lothness to give God more than we must needs. Now the measure and rule
   of what is absolutely necessary being uncertain, from the ignorance
   thereof grows a general fear (just enough, the heart being so corrupted
   by self-love) of falling short of what is necessary almost in
   everything, either for want of right intention, or some other important
   circumstance, which fear being servile is perplexing, confounding, and
   darkening. The proper remedy, therefore, is (as hath been said) an
   humble recourse to God by prayer to correct in us what is amiss, and to
   supply what is defective; as also a submission and resignation of
   ourselves sincerely and entirely to do to our uttermost what He
   requires; and when all this is done, not to judge of our soul's estate,
   its hope or danger, so much by a view of our own perfections, or a
   conceit of the diminishing of our imperfections, but only by our
   relying and affectionate dependence on God. For the greatest and most
   perfect servants of God, the more they grow in perfection, the more
   light have they to discern innumerable imperfections in themselves,
   which causes great humility, but yet does not abate their independence
   and confidence on God, grounded in His only goodness. Whereas,
   imperfect tepid souls hoping to gain security by diminishing their
   imperfections (which arises from pride), when they see their defects
   rather to increase, they become dejected, fearful, and scrupulous.

   30. And such scrupulosity arising from tepidity doth much increase it,
   through a kind of despair of expelling our own imperfections by our own
   abilities, and neglect of the true means of dispelling them, which is
   serious prayer to God. If such souls, therefore, would take this for a
   ground, that it is impossible in this life that they should ever see
   themselves otherwise than full of innumerable defects, of which they
   are not able so much as to give any account; and yet, notwithstanding,
   they ought even, for that very impossibility's sake, to have recourse
   unto God and to rely upon His pardon, as also His help and concurrence
   to remove our defects, as far as His good pleasure shall be: again, if
   they would not expect a certainty or security touching their state, but
   be content to stand to God's good pleasure and mercy, by which not only
   perfection but salvation is to be obtained, they would shortly be freed
   from their painful wearisome fears and scrupulosities.

   31. Again, ofttimes this humour of a timorous scrupulosity is very much
   to be attributed to the present indisposition in the body (especially
   in women), when by reason of some special infirmities, through the
   ascending of ill vapours to the head, there are raised melancholic and
   afflicting images in the fancy, which, without the help of the corporal
   physician, can hardly by counsel be expelled.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER XII.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of a scruple concerning a soul's vocation to a religious
   life.

   S:S: 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Of several grounds and motives by which souls may
   be induced to undertake a religious state.

   S:S: 8, 9. What motives are perfect and what unfitting; and how a soul
   once engaged has then a necessary divine vocation to continue, &c.

   1. Before I quit this passion of fear, it will neither be impertinent
   nor unprofitable, I hope, to speak somewhat of a temptation taken
   notice of by Thaulerus, the which affords great matter of fear to some
   tender souls, and regards their vocation to a religious life. The case
   stands thus:

   2. Some tender souls in religion, that have good minds and wills to
   persevere in seeking God, but being unsatisfied with themselves because
   they see so many imperfections not yet amended, yea, some that they had
   not observed before they entered into that state, impute all their
   unsuccessfulness in curing their defects to God's judgment upon them,
   for having upon light or vain grounds of their own choice undertaken
   such a state of life for outward, and perhaps unworthy, ends, as to
   avoid worldly troubles, wants, persecutions, &c., and not out of a pure
   intention to seek God, nor from any inspiration from Him.

   3. But to show the groundlessness of such scrupulous apprehensions,
   such suspicious souls may do well to consider, first, that in these
   wicked times, in which there is such a decay of charity in the world
   and of fervour in religion, such heroical enterprises and such
   admirable calls to a religious state are not every day to be expected
   as we read of in former times, when kings and princes, sometimes even
   in the prime vigour of their age, out of a loathing of transitory
   things and a longing after God, renounced all the abundance of wealth,
   pleasure, and glory that the world could afford, inasmuch as they were
   impediments to their holy designs of embracing solitude, poverty, and
   all other penitential austerities in religion. So that it is much to be
   doubted, that if the greatest part of those that now enter into
   religion had met with the like temptations and offers in the world as
   those despised, most of our cells would be empty, and our convents
   become true deserts. Yet all this does not argue that because the calls
   to religion usual in these days are not so extraordinary as formerly,
   therefore they are insufficient, or not at all divine. For though our
   intentions now are not so heroical and deiform (because our charity is
   not so inflamed), yet for the substance of them they may be upright.

   4. Secondly, they ought to consider that God is often pleased, in love
   to certain souls that perhaps would be in danger to make shipwreck of
   that imperfect charity which is in them if they continued in the world,
   to permit by an especial providence certain external casualties to
   befall them, by which they may be in some sort compelled to retire into
   the secure solitude of a religious state. For which purpose also He
   removes many impediments to such a course, depriving them of their
   dearest friends, riches, &c., crossing also their designs, which if
   they had succeeded would have chained them to the world. Hence it is
   that some for want of a comfortable subsistence; others to avoid suits
   and other troubles, or even for want of bodily strength, and being
   disabled to taste the pleasures of the world; others out of a
   tediousness and satiety of sensual contentments; lastly, some out of a
   deep remorse for some special crimes, or other respects no better than
   these, are induced to embrace a religious state. None of which respects
   notwithstanding, without some degree of charity, would probably have
   been sufficient to have produced this change, as neither would charity
   alone, had it not been actuated and quickened by such considerations.
   Now these vocations, though mixed with much impurity, yet are far from
   being unlawful.

   5. In the third place, it may possibly happen that some may have come
   into religion, induced merely and only by outward, yea perhaps
   unlawful, respects. They had much rather have stayed in the world, the
   pleasures of which, if they could have enjoyed them, they preferred far
   before God. But God debars them from such pleasures, sending them great
   crosses, which they can no otherwise avoid but by the refuge of a
   religious state. In which also, it may be their first design is to seek
   themselves only, and not God; yea, we read of one that adjoined himself
   to a religious community merely for this wicked end, to get an
   opportunity to commit sacrilege by stealing a chalice. But being there,
   God touched his heart to repent and acknowledge his criminal hypocrisy,
   after which he led a very religious holy life.

   6. Again, fourthly, some do come into religion, it may be, with a good
   harmless meaning, but, meeting with tepid or perhaps irreligious
   companions, they grow weary of their condition, the difficulties of
   which they have not yet spiritual strength to support and improve to
   their soul's advancement; so that if they were again freely to dispose
   of themselves, they would choose to return into the world, were it not
   that they are chained by a vow and ecclesiastical laws. Now although
   these came into religion uncalled by God, yet now the impossibility of
   changing their present condition is an effectual call from Him to keep
   them constant and faithful to Him.

   7. Lastly, some come into religion as it were unawares unto themselves,
   and without any election of their own parts, which is the case of many
   persons of noble families (especially virgins), that are even forced to
   such a state by the tyranny of their parents, or inveigled into it by
   the subtle avaricious insinuations and persuasions of others engaged in
   the same state, &c. By which means they engage themselves in a state of
   life unknown to themselves, relying wholly on the wills and judgment of
   others; and being once a little engaged, the opinion of honour, and to
   avoid the imputation of inconstancy, forces them to persevere.

   8. Now among all these varieties of cases and vocations to religion,
   shall we say that only those perfect souls mentioned in the beginning
   have a true call to religion? If so, how much the smaller number of
   religious could be judged to have had a lawful call! What reason,
   therefore, have any souls that now desire to seek God in religion,
   however they come thither, to disquiet themselves? Is it because they
   were not perfect in charity before they entered into religion? (For a
   perfectly pure intention cannot proceed but from a perfect habitual
   charity.) Is it therefore strange to them that nature, as long as it is
   alive in them, should mix its own interests even in the most holy
   actions? Or rather is this possible to be wholly avoided, unless we
   were perfect in an instant? If there were any undue or unlawful
   external motives that induced them in the beginning to betake
   themselves to such a state, since it now pleases God to show unto them
   that such a state is so secure and so happy a condition for their
   souls, surely they ought rather to employ their tongues and thoughts to
   bless Him, who dealt with them mercifully and graciously beyond their
   deserts, rather than to trouble and disquiet themselves. Are they
   afflicted because God made them happy against their wills? Or that, by
   His special and most merciful providence, He discouraged them from
   abiding in the temptations and snares of the world? Or that He took
   advantage from their imperfections to bring them into the way of
   perfection? Or that He changed their neglect into a desire of seeking
   Him, though with many defects?

   9. They ought, therefore, to consider that, in the present state they
   now are, nothing can so much harm them as such unreasonable and unquiet
   apprehensions. If they were now in a capacity to begin to make a free
   choice, they would, with an undoubted good and right intention,
   renounce the world, having oftentimes freely confirmed their first
   profession. And surely this ought to satisfy them; for God looks upon
   all His servants according as their present condition is, so that if
   they now seek Him in truth, whatsoever the motives were that brought
   them to their present state, they shall be no prejudice to them: if
   they were impure, they are forgiven, and shall never be considered; if
   good, they shall be considered for their good only. If they still have
   imperfections, it is no wonder: who does not complain, and justly, of
   imperfections? When they are more perfect they will have lesser
   defects, but they will see many more and be more humbled, though less
   disquieted for them. However, certain it is that scrupulosity and fear
   is their far greatest and most harmful imperfection; for this alone
   will make perfection in the divine union impossible to be obtained as
   long as the soul acts according to its inclination. And the way to cure
   it is not to dispute or contest with the cause of it, but to neglect,
   transcend, and work quite contrary to it; and doing so, though the pain
   continue in sensitive nature, yet such will prove a very purifying
   mortification.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER XIII.

   S: 1. Of the mortification of the affections of the will: to wit,
   pride, &c.

   S: 2. Of Humility, what it is.

   S:S: 3, 4. That God is the only object thereof, mediate or immediate.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8. Of Humility expressed towards creatures with respect
   to God, which requires that we prefer all others before ourselves,
   according to the seventh degree in our holy [86]Rule.

   S:S: 9, 10. This doth not offend against truth.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13. The which is proved by the grounds of true Christian
   Humility, and that the most sublime perfect creatures are the most
   humble.

   S: 14. The knowledge and perception or feeling of our own not-being,
   and God's totality or absolute being, is the principal ground of
   Humility.

   S: 15. Of other means conducing thereto.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. By what considerations a perfect soul may
   truly judge herself inferior to all others.

   S:S: 21, 22. Of Humility exercised immediately to God, either with
   reflection on ourselves or without it.

   S:S: 23, 24. An imperfect soul may know, but not feel, her own nothing,
   which is done only in perfect prayer.

   S:S: 25, 26. Deliberate imperfections in ourselves are a hindrance to
   this feeling.

   S:S: 27, 28, 29. Of the degrees of this feeling.

   S:S: 30, 31. Exhortation to aspire thereto.

   1. Having thus largely treated of the mortification of the principal
   passions in sensitive nature, we are consequently to speak of the
   mortifications of the will or appetites of the superior soul, the
   general inordination whereof is pride, the root of all other vices, and
   which of all other is the last cured, as being fixed in the inmost
   centre of the spirit. Now pride doth generally express itself one of
   these three ways: 1. in curiosity of knowledge, or seeking to enrich
   the understanding with sciences not profitable, and sought only out of
   an ambition of excelling. This is mortified by a nameless virtue which
   St. Paul describes by this circumlocution, when he exhorts us that we
   would (sapere ad sobrietatem) be soberly wise; concerning which duty we
   have treated sufficiently when we spoke of the regulating of our
   reading and studies; 2. in a love and desire of self-esteem, which is
   mortified by that most divine fundamental virtue of Humility; 3. in a
   love of liberty or independency, and a desire of prelature or authority
   over others, which is mortified by the religious virtue of Obedience.
   It remains, therefore, that we conclude this treatise of mortification
   with instructions touching these two eminent virtues of Humility and
   Obedience.

   2. Humility may be defined to be a virtue by which we, acknowledging
   the infinite greatness and majesty of God, His incomprehensible
   perfections, and the absolute power that He hath over us and all
   creatures (which are as nothing before Him), do wholly subject
   ourselves, both souls and bodies, with all their powers and faculties,
   and all things that pertain to either, to His holy will in all things,
   and for His sake to all creatures, according to His will.

   3. Properly speaking, humility is only exercised towards God, and not
   to creatures; because all creatures are in themselves nothing as well
   as we, and so deserve as well to be despised. And on these grounds the
   heathens were incapable of this virtue, because they did not, nor
   could, intend God, who was unknown unto them; yea, it was not without
   ground that they disgraced and condemned this virtue (by which men
   compared themselves with others, preferring all before themselves) as a
   hindrance to other perfections; because the undervaluing one's self
   compared with others was, in their opinion, a means to deject men's
   spirits and hinder any heroical attempts of raising one's self above
   others; and also because if the person comparing had indeed an
   advantage in perfections, it would be both unreasonable and unjust not
   to prefer himself. But what an inconsequent way of arguing this is, I
   shall hereafter show.

   4. In this virtue of Humility, God, towards whom it was exercised, may
   be considered: 1. as absolutely and abstractly in Himself; 2. as
   compared with creatures; 3. as in His creatures, and in several degrees
   participated by them.

   5. In this latter regard, we for God show Humility towards men,
   preferring others before ourselves, contenting ourselves with the
   meanest things in diet, clothes, books, &c., yea with the meanest parts
   and endowments of nature, flying all honour, authority, or esteem, &c.

   6. If humility were thus practised by religious persons, &c., all other
   duties also would be cheerfully and readily practised; for if we did
   indeed esteem ourselves to deserve no honour, kind usage, &c., but the
   contrary, how could we be impatient for injuries received, unresigned
   in afflictions, infected with propriety, &c.? with what sweetness and
   peace would we live towards all! with what tenderness and charity would
   we embrace all, &c.!

   7. Now the principal act of this Humility is that which is recommended
   by our holy Father in these words: The eleventh degree of Humility,'
   saith he, is when a soul shall not only pronounce with her tongue, but
   likewise in the most inward affection of the heart believe herself to
   be inferior to and more vile than all others, humbling herself and
   saying with the prophet, I am a worm and no man, the shame of men, and
   an abject among the common people; I was exalted by Thee, but I am
   humbled and confounded. And again, It was good for me that Thou didst
   humble me, that I may learn Thy commandments.'

   8. Such true Humility is so rare to be found, that there are few that
   make profession of this act even in the tongue, insomuch that a man
   should be esteemed a hypocrite that should only pretend thereto;
   whereas, in truth the very essence of Humility, as regarding men,
   consists principally in the exercising this act; for we are not to
   conceive that any one is become truly humble by any one or more of the
   degrees of it, till he have attained (at least in preparation of mind)
   to the highest degree, with which our holy Father begins. Certain
   therefore it is, that true Humility requires this acknowledgment from
   us, that we believe ourselves to be inferior and more vile than all
   others.

   9. Now though to ordinary human reason it may seem an offence against
   prudence and truth for one (for example) that knows himself to be
   skilled in arts, prudent, noble, &c., to prefer before himself those
   that are ignorant, silly, ignoble, &c.; or for a soul that by the Grace
   of God perceives herself to be free from mortal sins, and to live
   unblamably, yea, with edification, and perhaps is favoured by Almighty
   God with supernatural graces, sublime prayer, &c., to esteem herself
   inferior to persons that she sees abandoned to all vice and impiety;
   for doing so she would seem to lie against her own conscience and God,
   and to be extremely ungrateful to Him,--notwithstanding Humility is not
   at all opposed to truth, for if it were so, it could not be a virtue.
   Yea, it is pure divine truth itself that forces such a confession from
   the perfectest soul; insomuch as that he that does not know, yea, and
   endeavours not experimentally to feel himself to be, the most vile and
   wretched of all creatures, does in vain challenge the title of being
   humble or true.

   10. And this will appear by discovering the grounds upon which, and the
   means by which, true Christian Humility is built and to be attained,
   the which are these:

   11. In the first place, we are to know that God created all things for
   Himself, that is, in order and subordination to Himself, so that the
   perfection of their natures respectively consists in the preserving of
   this subordination, or in taking a true measure of themselves
   considered in themselves, and also as compared with God; and so doing
   we shall in very truth, without flattery or vanity, acknowledge that we
   ourselves and all creatures with us are in and of ourselves simply and
   in propriety of speech very nothing: we have nothing, we deserve
   nothing, we can do nothing, yea, moreover, that by all things that
   proceed from ourselves, as from ourselves, we tend to nothing, and can
   reap nothing but what is due to defectuousness; and on the contrary,
   that God alone of Himself is, and has being, and that illimited,
   replenished with all the perfections that being can possibly have.

   12. This is the main, universal, unalterable ground of Humility, by
   virtue of which all intellectual creatures in all states and degrees
   are obliged to refer to God alone, not only themselves and all manner
   of things (because without Him they have no being at all, and only by
   Him they continue to enjoy that being), but also all endowments that
   are in them, all operations that flow from them, as far as they are not
   defectuous, and the success likewise of all their actions; so that to
   acknowledge any good to come from any but God only, or to ascribe
   excellency or praise to any other but God, is a high injustice, a
   breach of that essential order in and for which creatures were made and
   are preserved.

   13. By virtue of this indispensable subordination, or comparing of God
   with His creatures, the most perfect, most holy, and most sublime of
   all God's creatures do most profoundly humble themselves in His
   presence. The glorified saints do prostrate themselves before Him,
   casting their crowns at His feet; the Seraphim cover their faces, and
   our blessed Lord as Man, having a most perfect knowledge, perception,
   and feeling of the nothingness of creatures, and the absolute totality
   of God, did more than all saints and angels most profoundly humble
   Himself before the Divine Majesty of His Father, remaining continually
   plunged in the abyss of His own nothing. Moreover, in virtue hereof, He
   submitted Himself to all creatures, yea, forasmuch as concerned
   suffering, even to the devil himself. As a creature, He saw nothing in
   Himself but the nothing of a creature, and in all other creatures He
   saw nothing but God, to whom He humbled Himself in all, accepting as
   from Him whatsoever persecutions proceeded from others. True indeed it
   is, that without offending truth He could not believe any other
   creature to be more holy and perfect than Himself, and so could not in
   that regard humble Himself to them; but he considered all His own
   perfections as not His own, but God's, and therefore assumed nothing to
   Himself for them; yea, He did not at all consider them, but only to
   humble Himself and renounce all pretensions to them; and the least
   perfection that was in others He considered as belonging to God, and so
   humbled Himself to God in them.

   14. But in the second place, although this consideration of the
   not-being of creatures out of God, and the all-being of God, be indeed
   the true and most proper ground of perfect Humility, yet because a
   great supernatural light and grace is required to make a soul sensible
   of this (for by discourse we may come to know it in an imperfect
   manner, and to believe it; but to taste, perceive, and feel it, this we
   can never do till we be entered far into God by our prayer), therefore
   we are in the beginning to make use also of another more sensible, and
   to the weakest eyes perceivable, ground of humiliation, which is the
   consciousness of our many imperfections and sins, joining therewith
   that imperfect discursive knowledge of our own nothing and God's
   totality, endeavouring by these two to humble and abase ourselves, so
   by little and little diminishing that natural pride which is in every
   one of us, by which we are apt not only to think better of ourselves
   than of any other, to excuse our own faults, and to accuse even the
   best actions of others, &c., but also to raise up ourselves against and
   above God Himself, considering ourselves as if we were both the
   principle and end of all good, challenging to ourselves the praise of
   all either real or imaginary good in us, and referring all things to
   our own contentment.

   15. By a serious and frequent consideration of these things, way will
   be made for the introducing of true solid Humility into our souls; but
   yet these alone will not suffice, except thereto we join: 1.
   abstraction of life, by which we will come to overlook and forget the
   imperfections of others, and only look upon our own, thence flying
   employments, charges, and dealing with others; or when necessity
   requires a treating with others, doing it with all modesty, charity,
   and a cordial respectfulness, being confounded at our own praises, &c.;
   2. a care to practise according to what Humility obliges us, with
   quietness of mind accepting humiliations, contempts, &c., from others,
   endeavouring to welcome them, and even to take joy in them, &c.; 3. but
   especially internal prayer, by which we not only get a more perfect
   light to discover a world of formerly unseen imperfections, but also we
   approach nearer to God, and get a more perfect sight of Him, in whom
   all creatures, ourselves and all, do vanish and are annihilated.

   16. Now when by these means Humility begins to get a little strength in
   us, it is wonderful to see how inventive and ingenious it is in finding
   ways to increase in perfection. Then this degree of preferring all
   others whatsoever before ourselves will appear not only possible, but
   easily to be practised, as being most conformable to reason and duty.

   17. For then a devout soul knowing how valuable and necessary a virtue
   Humility is, by which alone that most deadly poison of our souls,
   pride, is destroyed: 1. she will become scarce able to see anything in
   herself but what is truly her own, that is, her defectuousness and
   nothing, nor anything in others but what is God's; and thus doing she
   cannot choose but humble herself under all others, preferring all
   others before herself, and this without fiction, with all sincerity and
   simplicity; 2. she will never compare herself with others, but to the
   intent to abase herself; 3. if there be in her any natural endowments
   wanting to others, she will consider them as not her own, but God's,
   committed to her trust to the end to trade with them for God's glory
   only, of which trust a severe account shall be required; and being
   conscious of her negligence and ingratitude, she will be so far from
   glorifying herself for such endowments, that she will rather esteem
   them happy that want them; 4. if she have any supernatural graces which
   others want, yea, or if others are guilty of many open sins, she will
   consider that she may, according to her demerits, be deprived of them,
   and others enriched with them, who in all likelihood will make better
   use of them; for she knows by many woful experiments the perverseness
   of her own heart, but is utterly ignorant of others, and therefore
   cannot, without breach of charity, suspect that they will be so
   ungrateful; 5. she will not take notice of lesser imperfections in
   others, yea, not knowing their secret intentions, she will judge that
   those things which seem to be imperfections may perhaps be meritorious
   actions; 6. in a word, considering that God has made her a judge of
   herself, only to the end to condemn herself, and of others only to
   excuse them, and knowing that there can be no peril in judging (if it
   be possible) too hardly of one's self, but much in judging the worst of
   another in the smallest thing, though others be never so wicked, yet at
   least she will judge this, that if God had afforded them the light and
   helps that she enjoyed, they would have been angels in purity compared
   with her, and however that at least they are not guilty of such
   ingratitude as she is.

   18. By such considerations as these, a devout soul will fix in her
   understanding a belief of her own vileness and baseness. For to make
   Humility a virtue it is the will that must even compel the
   understanding to say, I will believe myself to be inferior to all,
   according as I find just cause by these considerations,' and the same
   will will upon occasion force practices suitable to such a belief. It
   will make the soul afraid to seek things pleasing to her, yea, content
   with all hard usage, as knowing she deserves far worse, and ought to
   expect to be trodden under foot by all creatures; so that in love to
   justice and equality she will even desire and rejoice in all affronts,
   persecutions, and contempts; or if certain circumstances, as infirmity
   of body, &c., shall require, and that she be necessitated to choose or
   desire, any consolations, she will accept them in the spirit of
   humility and mortification; that is, purely in obedience to the Divine
   Will, and not at all for the satisfaction of nature, being far from
   thinking herself worthy of anything but want, pain, and contempt.

   19. Now a superior is not to be judged to offend against this degree of
   Humility when he discovers, objects, reprehends, or punishes the faults
   of his subjects; for in so doing he sustains the person of God, to whom
   alone it belongs to exercise the office of a judge, yet withal the
   superior ought not therefore to esteem himself better than the person
   reprehended; for though perhaps in that one respect he cannot much
   condemn himself, yet for many other faults which he sees in himself and
   cannot see in others, he may and ought to remain humbled, yea, to be
   more confounded whensoever the duty of his place requires of him to be
   a reprehender of others, whilst himself doth far more deserve
   reprehension.

   20. When by serious practice of humiliation joined with prayer a soul
   is come to a high degree of purity in spiritual exercises, then is
   attained that more admirable kind of Humility which regards God; in
   which the soul contemplating His totality and illimited universality of
   being, and thence reflecting on her own nothing (of which now she has a
   more perfect sight), she most profoundly humbles and annihilates
   herself before Him.

   21. And when prayer is come to perfection, then will the soul also
   mount to the supreme degree of Humility, which regards God considered
   absolutely in Himself, and without any express or distinct comparison
   with creatures; for hereby a soul fixing her sight upon God as all in
   all, and contemplating Him in the darkness of incomprehensibility, does
   not by any distinct act or reflection consider the vacuity and
   nothingness of creatures, but really transcends and forgets them, so
   that to her they are in very deed as nothing, because they are not the
   object which with her spirit she only sees, and with her affections
   only embraces.

   22. This most heroical Humility can only be exercised in the act of
   contemplation, for then only it is that a soul feels her own nothing,
   without intending to reflect upon it. At all other times she in some
   degree feels the false supposed being of herself and creatures, because
   it is only in actual pure prayer that the images of them are expelled,
   and with the images the affections to them also.

   23. Notwithstanding, a great measure and proportion of the virtue of
   such prayer remains, and is operative also afterwards out of prayer;
   for if the soul do see creatures, she never sees them as in themselves,
   but only in relation to God, and so in them humbles herself to God and
   loves God in them; and if she reflect upon herself, and turn her eyes
   inward into her spirit, desiring to find God there, there will not be
   any considerable imperfection, obscurity, or stain that will darken her
   view of God, but she will discover it and most perfectly hate it.

   24. As for sins or imperfections in others, though never so heinous,
   they are no hindrance to her seeing of God, because either she
   transcends and marks them not, or is by their means urged to a nearer
   and more fervent love of Him for His patience--to a greater zeal for
   His honour impaired by the sins of men, and to a greater compassion
   towards sinners.

   25. But the least imperfection in herself being really a hindrance to
   her immediate union with God and perfect sight of Him is, in so great a
   light as she then enjoys, perfectly seen and perfectly abhorred by her;
   yea, such faults as to her natural understanding formerly appeared no
   bigger than motes, do in virtue of this supernatural light seem as
   mountains; and defects which she before never dreamed or imagined to be
   in herself, she now sees not only to be, but to abound and bear great
   sway in her. To this purpose saith St. Gregory (1. 22, Moral. c. i.):
   Sancti viri quo altuis apud Deum proficiunt, ee subtilius indignos se
   deprehendunt, quia dum proximi luci fiunt, quidquid in illis latebat
   inveniunt: that is, Holy men the higher that they raise themselves
   approaching to God, the more clearly do they perceive their own
   unworthiness, because, being encompassed with a purer light, they
   discover in themselves those defects which before they could not see.

   26. Hence it appears that there is a great difference between the
   knowledge of our own nothing, and the feeling or perception of it. The
   former may be got by a little meditation, or by reading school
   divinity, which teaches and demonstrates how that of ourselves we are
   nothing, but mere dependences on the only true being of God. Whereas
   the feeling of our own nothing will never be attained by study or
   meditation alone, but by the raising and purifying of our souls by
   prayer. The devil hath the knowledge of the nothingness of creatures in
   a far greater perfection than any man, and yet he hath nothing at all
   of the feeling. Now it is only the feeling of our not-being that is
   true perfect Humility, as, on the contrary, the feeling of our being is
   pride.

   27. Now this feeling of our not-being has two degrees: 1. The first is
   in regard of the corporal or sensitive faculties, to wit, when the soul
   is so raised above the body and all desires concerning it that it hath
   lost all care and solicitude about it, having mortified in a great
   measure all inferior passions. This is a high degree of Humility, but
   yet not perfect, as may appear plainly by this, that after a soul hath
   attained hereto by a passive union, there ordinarily follows the great
   privation or desolation, in which she finds herself to be yet full of
   herself and her own being, combated with many risings and repugnances.
   2. The second degree follows after that the said privation ceases, in
   which the soul exercises herself after a far more sublime manner, and
   begins then to have a more perfect feeling of her not-being, consisting
   in an abstraction from the soul herself and all her faculties and
   operations, all which are so lost and annihilated in God, that in her
   exercises of most pure prayer she cannot perceive distinctly any
   working either in the understanding or will, not being able to
   understand or give an account of what she does when she prays.

   28. The author of Secrets Sentiers saith that souls which are arrived
   to this state of perfect union are yet ordinarily permitted by God to
   descend oft from their high abstractions into their inferior nature,
   even as they were during their state of entrance into a spiritual
   course. So that (according to his doctrine) during such a descent they
   must needs be full of the feeling of their own being. But then, saith
   he, they from this descent do by little and little through their
   internal exercises ascend higher than they were ever before, and such
   ascents and descents interchangeably continue all their lives. Thus
   saith Barbanzon, perhaps out of experience of what passed in his own
   soul. But whether from thence he had sufficient warrant to apply these
   observations so generally, I leave to the determination of the perfect,
   who only can judge of such matters.

   29. But alas, these contemplations, and consequently the said blessed
   fruits of them, are very rare, and not at all in our own power to come
   at pleasure, inasmuch as a soul does not arrive to the perfection of
   prayer till after a passive union or contemplation, whereto well may we
   dispose ourselves according to our power; but it is in the free will
   and pleasure of God to confer it on whom, when, and in what manner it
   pleaseth Him.

   30. But, however, let not beginners nor proficients in spirituality be
   discouraged, for that as yet they cannot find in themselves (or at
   least very imperfectly) a perception of their not-being, not having as
   yet a supernatural intellectual species evidently and even palpably
   representing to their minds God's totality and their own nothing, the
   which species it is not the nature of active exercises to produce. It
   is a great blessing of God to them that He has given them the courage
   to aspire thereunto. And persevering in the ways leading thither, they
   will certainly arrive to the partaking of the substance of this sublime
   Humility, in virtue of which alone all other virtues will be perfectly
   exercised by them; inasmuch as by it they will come to know both God
   and themselves aright, and be in an immediate disposition (as our holy
   Father says) to that perfect charity which expels all fear, for which
   reason he only treats particularly and largely of this virtue, and of
   Obedience, which is a branch of it.

   31. We ought therefore never to cease praying that God would reveal
   unto us our own nothing and His all-being: for prayer is the only
   effectual means to attain unto it. As for exterior acts and expressions
   of Humility, if they flow from prayer, they may be profitable and
   acceptable to God; however, for the peril of pride, which will
   insinuate and mingle itself even in Humility also, we should not be too
   forward to exercise voluntary outward affections of Humility out of a
   pretence of giving edification to others. And when we do such as are
   commanded in the [87]Rule, and conformable to our state, we ought in
   them, as well as we can, to purify our intention.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER XIV.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of the mortification of our natural inclination to liberty
   or independency, by the virtue of Obedience.

   S:S: 3, 4. Obedience likewise regards God, either mediately or
   immediately. And that it is easier to obey God than man.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8. The obligation laid by our holy [88]Rule on subjects
   to discover their internal defects to superiors is now much out of use.
   And how this is come to pass.

   S: 9. Obedience earnestly pressed by [89]St. Benedict.

   S: 10. It ought to proceed from the soul.

   S:S: 11, 12. Of the doctrine of casuists limiting or dispensing with
   regular Obedience; and what use is to be made of it.

   S:S: 13, 14. Special advices thereabouts to scrupulous souls.

   S: 15. Truly perfect obedience has no limits.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18. Several defects in obedience.

   S:S: 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. How a soul is to behave herself in obediences,
   in things prejudicial, and in such as are pleasing to nature.

   S: 24. An example of perfect simplicity in obedience.

   S: 25. Of obedience to brethren required in our [90]Rule.

   S: 26. Prayer a necessary means to beget obedience.

   1. The second depravation of the will which is to be mortified is a
   natural love of liberty and independence, as also an ambition to
   dispose and rule others; and the proper virtue whereby this is
   mortified is (religious) Obedience, which is a branch of Humility, as
   the aforesaid depravation is of pride.

   2. Obedience, therefore, as well as Humility, doth principally regard
   God, even when it is performed to man. And indeed unless our obedience
   to creatures do flow from our obedience due to God, it will never
   advance or perfectionate the soul, but rather nourish all depraved
   affections in it, as having its root in self-love, servile fear, yea
   oft in pride itself; whereas, if it be grounded on our duty to God, the
   soul thereby will become so humble, supple, and pliable, that it will
   not refuse to subject itself to the meanest creatures, it will
   cheerfully suffer all crosses, contradictions, and pressures, both
   external and internal.

   3. Obedience is performed either: 1. immediately to God alone; 2. or
   immediately to man, but for God's sake. We will in this place only
   treat of this latter; for as for the other, it comprehends all the
   duties of piety and devotion, whether external or internal, and
   therefore needs not be spoken of particularly.

   4. To submit one's self to man for God's sake, or out of love to God,
   is much harder than to do it immediately to God (and consequently it is
   in that regard more meritorious, and will most efficaciously and
   speedily bring a soul to perfection). The reasons of the greater
   difficulty in our obedience to men are: 1. Because we acknowledge our
   superior to be God's substitute, yet we are not always convinced that
   his particular commands proceed from him as such, but rather from
   passion, natural interests, aversion, &c., so that we cannot see his
   commands to be so reasonable (as God's are acknowledged to be), nor
   that obedience to them will produce so much good to the soul. 2.
   Because we know our superior cannot see nor judge the heart, but may
   err and be mistaken, so that it is not easy to submit the mind to one
   that has no right over it, nor power to see his commands perfectly
   executed.

   5. For this reason it is that our holy Father, knowing the wonderful
   virtue and efficacy of obedience proceeding from the heart, requires in
   his holy [91]Rule that subjects should in a sort communicate to their
   superiors that proper attribute of God, who calls Himself a seer and
   searcher of the heart; with humility and simplicity discovering unto
   them all their considerable imperfections in thoughts; and this he does
   not only out of an eye to the benefit that may come by the sacrament of
   penance, for this was to be done though the superior were no priest (as
   anciently oft they were not), but the ends of this obligation were: 1.
   For the more perfect humiliation of the subject, and a mortification of
   that natural aversion that we have from the discovering and submitting
   to the censures of others our secret defects. 2. To the end that the
   superior might be enabled to govern his subjects for their spiritual
   advancement.

   6. We may reasonably impute to the disuse of this obligation the great
   decay of religious discipline and perfection in the world; because now,
   generally speaking, superiors know no more of their subjects but what
   they chance to observe in their outward behaviour, for as for internal
   matters (which are the principal), they all pass between each religious
   person and a private chosen confessarius.

   7. But withal the disuse of the said obligation we are to impute: 1.
   Partly to the tepidity of subjects and their want of care to be
   governed by a way absolutely the best for themselves, however very
   heavy to corrupt nature. 2. But principally to the incapacity and
   insufficiency of superiors, in regard of which such a change of the
   said custom was esteemed even necessary.

   8. Surely this most excellent practice had never been brought into
   disuse, or would again be restored, if superiors (according as our holy
   [92]Rule requires, and as in the primitive times they were) had
   continued, or generally now were: 1. Themselves practised in a
   spiritual course of prayer and contemplation, and would consider that
   their duty is to direct their subjects' souls in the same way. 2. If
   they had the spirit of discretion and light to discern the several
   dispositions and capacities of their subjects' souls in order to their
   principal end. 3. If in whatsoever impositions they lay on them beyond
   the observances of the Rule, they would regard whether thereby their
   subjects (considering their several tempers) are likely to be advanced
   or hindered in their spiritual course, and not esteem that it is a
   sufficient justification for them that the things in themselves are not
   ill, and their end therein is to mortify their subjects' wills and
   passions; for such mortifications there may be as will endanger to
   extinguish the light that is in their subjects' souls, by drawing them
   to multiplicity, &c., so that no other impositions or mortifications
   are excusable but such as right reason enlightened by grace would judge
   necessary, and such as God Himself would ordain for them. 4. Especially
   if they would abstain from laying such encumbrances on their subjects
   as are lasting, and regard not only the exterior but interior also,
   distracting the memory, confounding the understanding, and breeding
   perplexity in their minds, or, in a word, that are prejudicial to
   internal prayer (for indeed impositions are to be accounted only so far
   to be encumbrances). 5. Lastly, if they did require obedience from
   their subjects, not to show their own authority, but only to benefit
   their subjects' souls thereby (without which intention their office
   becomes merely secular, &c.). If, I say, superiors had remained thus
   qualified, there would never have been any sufficient occasion to
   dispense with such an order prescribed by our holy Father, touching the
   subjects' revealing to the superior their most secret imperfections,
   even in thoughts.

   9. But however, matters standing as they now do, and obedience being
   divided, as it were, between a regular and a spiritual director, the
   subject is to perform to each the obedience which is due; yet with this
   difference, that he is to consider that the obligation of obedience to
   a spiritual director, voluntarily chosen by the subject and changeable
   at pleasure, is far less strict than to a superior, who has God's
   authority communicated to him, confirmed by the Church, ratified by a
   solemn vow, by virtue of which we have given up our wills wholly to the
   wills of our superiors. Insomuch as that our holy Father (in the 5th
   chap. of the [93]Rule) requires a performance of this duty on no meaner
   motives than the hope of heaven, the fear of hell, and, which is the
   most perfect of all other, the love of God; for, with he, obedience
   without delay is proper to them who esteem nothing dearer to themselves
   than Christ.

   10. Now since the only principal end why a religious person has engaged
   himself in a life of obedience is the good and advancement of his soul,
   and not any temporal convenience, as in secular governments, therefore,
   notwithstanding the common saying that our souls are exempted from
   human jurisdiction, and notwithstanding that in these days, as hath
   been said, superiors are not always the directors of their subjects'
   consciences,--yet unless their commands be obeyed in purity of heart,
   as for God's sake, and with submission not only of the outward but
   inward man also, that is, both the will and judgment, such obedience is
   not at all meritorious nor conformable to the general design of a
   religious life and to their vows of profession. For if all Christians,
   as St. Paul teacheth, be obliged to obey secular superiors, and
   servants their masters, not for fear of wrath or punishment, but for
   conscience' sake, and in order to God, who hath invested them with
   authority, intending principally the good of their souls in all manner
   of exterior obligations, surely this doth much more strictly hold in
   religious obedience, which was ordained and hath been undertaken only
   for the benefit of the soul.

   11. Therefore, whereas later doctors and casuists have found out
   exemptions in many cases abridging the authority of superiors, and
   disobliging subjects from obedience, a religious subject that seriously
   aspires to perfection according to his profession will be very wary how
   he makes use of the advantages and dispensations afforded him,
   considering that although by such disobedience he may perhaps escape
   the punishment of external laws, yet he will not esteem himself quit
   from his obligation to obey, unless the things unduly commanded be such
   as are inconsistent with his duty to God, and manifestly prejudicial to
   his soul.

   12. Moreover, a truly humble internal liver will very rarely, and not
   without extreme necessity, make use of that just liberty of appealing
   from an immediate superior allowed by the laws of the Church; and this
   he will never do for the ease of nature, or the satisfying of any
   passion, but purely for the good of the soul. Indeed, I do scarce know
   any case in which an appeal may be fit to be used by such souls, except
   perhaps when they find that their immediate superior, either out of
   ignorance or a disaffection to spiritual prayer, shall abridge their
   subjects of time and means necessary for the exercise of it, either by
   overburdening them with distractive and solicitous employments, or as
   it were purposely; and this frequently and customarily imposing on them
   obediences at the times appointed and proper for prayer. Yet surely the
   case must needs be extraordinary if a soul cannot, by using her
   dexterity and prudence, recover each day two half-hours for
   recollection.

   13. Notwithstanding, some good use may be made of the opinion of
   doctors, touching the limits and bounds prescribed to the authority of
   superiors, and the degrees of obligation to such authority, for the
   necessary ease of devout, tender, and scrupulous souls. Not that such
   are to be encouraged to dispense with themselves in the duties required
   thereby, but lest they, out of tenderness in suspecting oft a mortal
   sin to have been committed by disobedience where perhaps there was
   scarce any fault at all, should be disquieted, perplexed, and hindered
   from reaping any benefit by prayer or any other duties. And indeed
   little danger is there that souls so disposed should from any larger
   interpretations make advantage to the ease of nature or the
   satisfaction of an inordinate passion.

   14. Such souls, therefore, may know: 1. That the authority of superiors
   is not illimited, but confined to certain conditions, as that it must
   be juxta regulam, neither besides nor above the Rule, and that their
   command must be ad edifacationem, and not ad destructionem, &c. 2. That
   disobedience to their commands which are according to the [94]Rule is
   not a mortal offence, unless the matters commanded be in themselves of
   more than ordinary importance, and that a command be expressly given,
   and with signification that their intention is that it should so
   oblige, and that the subject has not ground to judge that if the
   superior were present he would not have urged such an obedience so
   strictly. 3. That in matters of lesser moment a disobedience mortally
   sinful is not committed, unless it be done with manifest contempt, that
   is, as [95]St. Bernard (lib. de Precept. et Dispens.) interprets it,
   When the subject will neither obey nor submit to correction for
   disobedience.' So that all faults that are committed by one that really
   has a mean or contemptuous opinion of his superior, and which without
   such a precedent unfit opinion would not have been committed, are not
   to be called in this sense sins out of contempt, unless the subject
   renounce correction--a fault that such tender souls are incapable of
   committing, &c.

   15. Perfect obedience, saith the same [96]St. Bernard, knows no ends or
   limits: it extends itself to all lawful things pertaining either to
   body or soul, and to all actions, both external and internal (as far as
   these last are voluntarily submitted to him), insomuch as that our holy
   Father, to cut off all pretences of disobedience, does not except even
   things impossible; so that if such things as not only in the
   faint-hearted opinion of the subject are esteemed such, but really are
   impossible, should be seriously and considerately imposed by a discreet
   superior (for trial), the subject is obliged to do his endeavour toward
   the effecting of them, so they be lawful and not destructive to the
   subject's life. Yea, we find examples of saints that upon commands of
   superiors have cast themselves into rivers, or leaped down precipices,
   or taken coals of fire into their hands, &c. But we are to suppose
   that, in these cases, there was a special divine instinct both in the
   superior commanding and the subjects obeying, as the events showed, the
   said subjects having never miscarried, but been miraculously delivered
   from any harm by what they so did in obedience; and therefore the like
   examples cannot be drawn into a rule.

   16. The several defects in point of obedience (the avoiding of which
   defects constitutes several degrees of true religious obedience) are
   reckoned by Turrecremata to be these which follow, viz.: 1. To do some,
   but not all things enjoined. 2. If all, yet imperfectly and
   incompletely. 3. Or not in the manner requisite. 4. Or not upon the
   first simple bidding, but expecting a second command, or perhaps one in
   form and in virtue of obedience. 5. Or to do it with reluctance and
   unwillingness. 6. Or after discussing the reasonableness and lawfulness
   of the command. 7. To go slowly and lazily about it. 8. To do it rashly
   and without fit preparation. 9. For want of a resolute purpose
   beforehand to obey absolutely and universally, to be in a readiness to
   contradict when commands come upon the sudden, rather than to hasten to
   obey. 10. Then to obey indeed, yet not without repining, or at least a
   show of it in the countenance. 11. Or, however, with sadness and
   dejectedness. 12. To obey in greater matters, but not so readily in
   small. 13. To obey in the substance of the thing commanded, but not
   according to the intention of the superior or law. 14. The command
   being unpleasing, to suspect or judge ill of the superior's intention.
   15. To make pretended excuses of insufficiency. 16. To be of so
   troublesome and froward an humour as to discourage the superior from
   imposing any commands. 17. Out of an opinion of one's own judgment or
   sufficiency, to slight the superior's way of government. 18. To seek to
   draw the superior to one's own way and opinions, and so in effect to
   become as superior. 19. When one does the thing commanded, to do it
   with a willing fraudulent insufficiency. 20. Not to do it with all
   cheerfulness and readiness. 21. Lastly, not to obey with a perfect
   intention for God's glory and love.

   17. Now lest a beginner should be discouraged, seeing so many
   conditions requisite to perfect obedience, and so many defects to be
   avoided, he must consider that God does not expect at the first from
   him an obedience in all points perfect. It is well that he do the
   command without sin, that is, not making the principal motive to be
   outward sensual respects, and without behaving himself with a
   deliberate defectuousness, murmuring, &c. By practice in obeying
   according to one's power, a soul will by little and little wear out the
   defects, as it is in the learning of any art or trade. An obedience,
   though imperfect, so it be not sinful, meriteth somewhat; and besides,
   it disposeth the person to amend it the next time, by taking notice of
   the defect and being willing to be admonished.

   18. It is no marvel, neither is it a fault, that the body being wearied
   and exhausted with many obediences, there should thereupon be found in
   inferior nature a reluctance. But the mind or will should never be
   weary or backward, but remain ever invincible, forcing inferior nature
   to comply to the utmost of her power, but yet according to discretion.

   19. In case a superior command a subject things not only heavy and
   grievous to nature, but even such as are apparently contrary to health
   and corporal strength, as a rigorous conformity to regular abstinence,
   fastings, watchings, &c., the subject must neither refuse the command
   nor show any unwillingness to obey; but having, after good
   consideration and experience, found himself unable and infirm, he may
   lawfully declare unto the superior such his infirmity, so he do it (as
   the [97]Rule expresses it, patienter et opportune) with patience, and
   taking an opportune time for it, not suddenly, querulously, and in a
   passion. But in case the superior do persist, the subject must obey,
   submitting both body, will, and judgment, and so committing the issue
   to God; and then the success, whatever it be, cannot but be good.

   20. If the thing commanded be grateful to nature, honourable, pleasing,
   &c., it is not good nor secure to be over-forward in obeying; it were
   better, so it might be done without offence, to seek to avoid it,
   wishing that others might rather be employed, or, however, to undertake
   it as obedience only, and, as it were, against our wills. But if the
   matter be harsh to nature, we are to do it with all possible readiness
   and cheerfulness, being desirous that others should be exempted from
   it.

   21. It is not very hard internally to resolve universally to forsake
   one's own will, submitting it to another. But really and actually to
   perform this at all times, whensoever obediences are imposed, and that
   frequently; and when the things are of difficulty and contradiction to
   nature (and it may be), imposed by a superior against whom the subject
   hath some disaffection in nature, or of whom he hath a mean opinion,
   and when the subject himself is in an ill-humour of obeying, or when
   the obediences, though performed never so cheerfully and exactly, yet
   are usually ill-accepted, censured, &c.,--this requires a great courage
   and perfect self-denial, and much more to persevere in such obedience
   to the end of one's life with meekness and patient subjection.

   22. And a yet greater degree of perfection is it (to which
   notwithstanding internal livers ought to aspire) for a religious person
   that is hardly and injuriously treated by his superior to be content
   and desirous that he should continue to use him so or worse, so it
   might be without offence to God, and so that no harm might come to the
   superior's soul thereby.

   23. There are no commands, though never so impertinent or distracting,
   that can prejudice perfect souls that are come to an established state
   of recollection, and habitually enjoy the Divine presence. But great
   harm and danger may come thereby to the imperfect, the which,
   notwithstanding, by patience, quietness, and meekness in obeying, may
   come to make their profit even from them also, so that, though they
   lose one way by a hindrance to their recollection, they may repair that
   loss by rooting these virtues more firmly in their souls. However, the
   superior must expect to have a severe account required of him for
   indiscreet and harmful impositions laid upon his subjects.

   24. A memorable example of obedience, joined with a mortification very
   sensible to humble souls (to wit, a mortification caused by an
   obligation to accept undue and unproportionable honour), we read of in
   the story of the great St. Basil, who, having obtained at his own
   request from a neighbour bishop a priest to attend him, recommended as
   an humble and obedient person, St. Basil, for a trial of these virtues,
   required of him to prepare some water for the washing of his feet. The
   good priest with a modest cheerfulness obeyed, and having quickly
   brought the water, St. Basil, sitting down, commanded him to wash his
   feet, who readily and diligently performed that command. That being
   done, the saint commands the priest to sit down, that so he in exchange
   might also wash his feet. The humble and virtuously simple man, without
   any excuses or contestations, quietly and calmly, as it became one
   perfect in obedience, suffers his feet to be washed by him, who was
   then the most eminent and most reverend prelate in the Eastern Church.
   Upon this proof, St. Basil was satisfied that he had found an attendant
   fit for the employments to which he destined him, and, with many thanks
   to the neighbour bishop, took the priest with him for his inseparable
   companion.

   25. There is mentioned in our holy [98]Rule another sort of obedience,
   of great efficacy to bring souls to perfection, to wit, an obedience
   not out of obligation and duty to superiors, but only from respect to
   brethren (specially ancients) in religion, and this out of charity, and
   in conformity to St. Paul's advice (which is very general) that we
   should in honour prefer every one before ourselves. This kind of
   obedience, as receiving proper commands from such, is now out of
   practice. And whether this disuse has proceeded from want of simplicity
   and humility in the younger sort, or from imperfection and want of
   discretion and gravity in the more ancient, or perhaps from jealousy
   and love of being absolute in superiors, it is hard to say; but surely
   it is a great loss. There were likewise obligations imposed upon all
   juniors, after any the least offence taken by the ancients, to make
   present satisfaction by prostrations, the which were to continue till
   that pardon and a benediction were given. Indeed, in those times, in
   which so much abstraction of life and so seldom mutual conversations
   were used, offences were so rare that it would be no hard matter for
   such simple humble souls as most religious persons then were to comply
   with these obligations. So that the only way to restore them is to
   restore that most profitable abstraction, solitude, and silence again.

   26. It is vain for any one to seek the attaining to the perfection of
   obedience (which, besides the outward work, requires a submission of
   the spirit itself to God alone, in the superior, and a renouncing of
   one's own judgment upon the dictates of the most ignorant or indiscreet
   superior) but by the serious and constant practice of internal prayer,
   which alone purifies the soul and makes all other things but God
   invisible to her. So that, without such prayer, all other exterior
   practices of an officious humiliation will be of little or no virtue or
   efficacy thereto.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER XV.

   S: 1. We do not here treat of all kinds of mortification or virtues;
   but principally such as are most proper and most necessary to be known
   and practised in order to an internal life.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. Several advices and observations
   touching virtues in general.

   1. Hitherto we have treated of the first instrument and mean of
   perfection, to wit, Mortification; at least, so far as we conceived
   proper to the design of this book, that is, in order to internal prayer
   of contemplation. And therefore it is that we have not enlarged the
   discourse to comprehend universally all moral virtues (the which are
   mortifications to all our distempered affections), but only such as are
   more peculiar to religious or internal livers. For the rest the reader
   is referred to other books of Christian morality, which abundantly
   treat of that subject, the doctrine of which may be applied to the
   present purpose, if reflection be made on the advices which have
   already been given concerning the special virtues hitherto treated of.
   To the which I will, for conclusion of this treatise, add a few more
   touching virtues in general.

   2. The first advice is this, that before a soul can attain to perfect
   contemplation it is necessary that she be adorned with all sorts of
   Christian virtues, not one excepted, according to the saying of the
   Psalmist: Ibunt de virtute in virtutem: videbitur Deus Deorum in
   Sion--that is, They shall go from one virtue to another, and then (and
   not till then) the God of gods shall be contemplated in Sion. So that
   if a soul make a stop at any virtue, or willingly favour herself in any
   inordinate affection, it will not be possible for her to ascend to the
   top of the mountain where God is seen.

   3. The second regards the manner of attaining to virtues; for we are
   not so to understand these words of the Psalmist as if a soul's
   progress to perfection was by a successive gaining of one virtue after
   another; for example, first possessing herself of the virtue of
   temperance, and, having got that, then proceeding to patience,
   humility, chastity, &c. But they are all in the root gotten together,
   and we make no progress in one virtue, but withal we make a
   proportionable progress in all the rest. And the reason is, because
   charity is the root of all Christian virtues, they being only such
   duties as charity (which alone directs us to God, our last end) would
   and doth dictate to be practised on several and different occasions.

   4. True it is that, either by our natural tempers or by having more
   frequent trials and occasions of exercising some virtues, certain
   passions opposite to them may be, according to the material disposition
   in corporal nature, more subdued and regulated than others; yet, in
   regard of the disposition of the spiritual soul (that is, the judgment
   of the mind and resolution of the will), the soul (according to the
   merit of the object) is equally (by an equality of proportion) inclined
   to all good, and equally averted from all ill. Because divine love is
   equally inconsistent with all mortal sins, and doth combat and subdue
   self-love in all its branches. Our progress, therefore, expressed in
   the phrase de virtute in virtutem, is to be understood to be from a
   lower and more imperfect degree of charity, and all its virtues, to a
   higher, till we come to the mount of perfection.

   5. The third advice is, that this progress and increase in virtues is
   neither equal at all times--for the soul, by resisting stronger
   temptations and in virtue of more efficacious prayer, doth make greater
   strides and paces--neither is it always observable either by the
   traveller himself or others. Yea, it is neither necessary nor perhaps
   convenient that we should much heed the rules that are given by some
   for examination of our proficiency. Such inquiry seems not very
   suitable to humility, and probably will not produce any good effect in
   us; it may suffice us that we go on, and that God knows perfectly our
   growth in piety and love, and will most assuredly reward us
   proportionally, though we should be never so ignorant to what degree of
   perfection we are arrived.

   6. Fourthly, all increase of sanctifying grace, by whatsoever
   instruments it be produced, as by regular austerities, temperance,
   exercises of mortification, &c., is performed according to the good
   internal dispositions and actuations of soul accompanying the use of
   them. Yea, the same may also, in a certain proportion, be affirmed even
   of the sacraments themselves (in adultis), the which, although, by
   their own intrinsical virtue, and (as the Council of Trent, sess. vii.
   can. 8, expresses it) ex opere operato, they do confer a peculiar grace
   and aid, and this, quantum est a parte Dei, at all times and on all
   persons that duly receive them (see sess. vii. can. 6 and 7), yet,
   withal, the quantity and measure of the said grace is in the same
   council (sess. vi. cap. 7) said to be (Secundum propriam cujusque
   dispositionem et cooeperationem) according to the peculiar disposition
   and cooeperation of each person respectively; that is, those that come
   with more (or less) perfect, intense, continued, and multiplied
   internal acts of faith, hope, charity, devotion, &c., do accordingly
   receive a more (or less) plentiful measure of sacramental grace. Now
   what are all these dispositions and preparations but the exercising of
   internal prayer? Whence appears how wonderful an influence internal
   prayer, both by way of merit or impetration, and likewise by a direct
   efficiency, hath in the producing and increase of divine virtues in the
   soul.

   7 . Fifthly, if a soul out of the times of prayer shall in occasions
   (for example) of contradictions, persecutions, &c., neglect to exercise
   patience, she must necessarily exercise impatience, and, by
   consequence, will make little or no progress by her prayer; yet, if
   then she shall use any reasonable care, diligence, or watchfulness over
   herself, though not for the getting of much, yet not to lose much out
   of prayer, God will, by means of her prayer seriously prosecuted,
   infuse such a measure of grace as will cause a progress,
   notwithstanding frequent failings through frailty or inadvertence, &c.,
   but it will be late ere the effects of such infusion will appear.

   8. Sixthly, increase in virtue doth purely depend on the free grace and
   good pleasure of God conferring the said grace in prayer, &c., in a
   measure as Himself pleaseth, and also by His holy Providence,
   administering occasions severally of exercising several virtues, the
   which occasions ordinarily are not at all in our own power or disposal.

   9. Seventhly, according to our progress in virtues so is our progress
   in prayer; and till the soul be in a very high degree purified from
   self-love she is incapable of that perfect degree of prayer which is
   called contemplation. According to that saying of our Saviour (Matt.
   v.), Beati mundo corde, quoniam ipsi Deum videbunt; that is, Blessed
   are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' And the reason is
   evident, because until the internal eye of the soul be cleansed from
   the mists of passion and inordinate affections, it neither will nor can
   fix itself upon so pure and divine an object. True it is, that in every
   the most imperfect degree of prayer (by which the soul is
   proportionally purified) God is, in some qualified sense, contemplated.
   But we do not apply the term Contemplation except only to the most
   sublime degree of prayer; the which yet is never so perfectly absolute
   in this life but that it may, without limitation, increase; because the
   soul is never so perfectly freed from the bitter fruits of original sin
   (ignorance and concupiscence), but there will ever remain matter and
   exercise for further mortification or purification.

   10. Eighthly, virtues are in no other state of life so perfectly
   established in the depth and centre of the spirit as in a contemplative
   state, because all the exercises thereof do principally and directly
   regard the exaltation, spiritualising, and purification of the spirit
   by a continual application, adhesion, and union of it to God, the
   Fountain of light and purity.

   11. Lastly, by the means of contemplative prayer in an internal life,
   virtues are most easily obtained, most securely possessed, and most
   perfectly practised. In an active life a person that aspires to
   perfection therein stands in need of many things to enable him for the
   practice of the duties disposing thereto; for the exercise of external
   works of charity there are needful riches or friends, &c.; and for
   spiritual almsgiving there is required learning, study, disputation,
   &c.; and if by the help of these there be acquired an established habit
   of solid charity, it is not very securely possessed in the midst of so
   many distractions, solicitudes, and temptations. But a contemplative
   life (as [99]St. Thomas, 22 q. 182 a. i. c., observes, even from
   Aristotle himself) stands in need of very few things, being to itself
   sufficient. Such a person alone, without needing either assistance or
   favour from abroad, can both purchase and exercise all virtues; yea,
   and liberally dispense all kinds of charity to others also. For by
   prayer alone, exercised in solitude, he can employ and engage God's
   omnipotence, wisdom, and all the treasures of His riches for the
   supplying all the necessities, external and internal, of His Church.
   The light that is gotten by prayer will be more than equivalent to long
   and laborious study (not sanctified with prayer) for the enabling him
   to discharge efficaciously a pastoral charge over souls when they shall
   be committed to him, though no doubt prayer will also incite to
   sufficient study. And in the mean time, though he were deprived of all
   conversations and books--yea, fettered and buried in the obscurity of a
   dungeon--prayer alone would be a sufficient entertainment to him. There
   he would find God and His Holy Spirit as present and as bountiful to
   him as ever; yea, the greater solitude there is, at the more freedom is
   the soul to run speedily and lightly in the course of virtues, for
   nothing doth indeed fetter her but self-love and propriety. And lastly,
   virtues once gotten are evidently most securely possessed in solitude,
   from whence all distraction and almost all temptations are excluded.

      THE END OF THE SECOND TREATISE OF MORTIFICATION.
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     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

    TO THE

    VENERABLE AND R. LADY D. CATHERINE GASCOIGNE

        THE LADY ABBESS OF THE RELIGIOUS DAMES ON THE HOLY ORDER OF
        ST. BENEDICT, IN CAMBRAY;

      AND TO ALL THE RR. DAMES, ETC., OF THE SAME CONVENT.


   MADAME,

   If I had not any pressing obligation (as I have many) to take all
   occasions to acknowledge both my worthy esteem and resentment also for
   your many favours, yet without injustice I could not but return unto
   Your Ladyship, &c., these instructions about the prayer of
   Contemplation, which from your full store I first received. I could
   wish it had been in my power to commend them to the liking and practice
   of others, as the admirable piety of the Venerable Author (whose memory
   will always be in benediction with you) did to yours. But being able to
   boast no other virtue in this matter, but only diligence and fidelity
   (asserted by Your Ladyship's own testimony), I should doubt that the
   unworthiness of the compiler would to their disparagement prevail
   against the excellency of the Author, and his argument, were it not
   that I am confident that a view (apparent to all that know that
   Convent) of the many most blessed effects that they have produced
   there, will have the force to recommend them to strangers, and to
   defend them against contradictors. Your great charity (RR. DD.) makes
   you think yourselves not unbeholding to me for dispersing thus abroad
   to all that will accept them these your richest jewels, your most
   delicious provisions, your most secure armour, that is, all that makes
   your solitude and scarcity, &c., deserve to be the envy of princes'
   courts, the habitation of angels, and temples of God Himself. For
   prayer is all this, and more good than yourselves can express; and yet
   you can express more than any others but such as yourselves can
   understand. Since, therefore, you have been pleased to say I have
   obliged you by this publication, let my recompense, I beseech you, be
   to be sometimes thought of in your prayers, that I may become seriously
   mine own disciple, and learn by this book to pray as you do; and that
   this work may invite the readers, whoever they be only to make a trial
   (though at first but even out of curiosity) whether we have boasted too
   largely of the treasures here exposed. This, if through the Divine
   assistance they shall do, it may be hoped that many unawares to
   themselves will become converts not only to piety, but even to Catholic
   Truth and Unity. And surely none will suspect that any danger can come
   from pure spiritual prayer.

   Madame and RR. DD.,
   Your servant in our Lord most humbly devoted,

   Br. SERENUS CRESSY.

   Doway, this 23d of July, 1657.
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THE FIRST SECTION.

    OF PRAYER IN GENERAL, AND THE GENERAL DIVISION OF IT.
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  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4. Of Prayer in general. What it is.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8. It is the most excellent and most necessary of all
   duties.

   S:S: 9, 10. The division of prayer into mental and vocal, improper.

   1. The whole employment of an internal contemplative life having been
   by me comprehended under two duties, to wit, Mortification and Prayer,
   concerning (the former) mortification we have discoursed largely in the
   precedent treatise. We are now henceforward to treat of the other most
   noble and divine instrument of perfection, which is Prayer; by which
   and in which alone we attain to the reward of all our endeavours, the
   end of our creation and redemption--to wit, union with God, in which
   alone consists our happiness and perfection.

   2. By prayer, in this place, I do not understand petition or
   supplication, which, according to the doctrine of the schools, is
   exercised principally by the understanding, being a signification of
   what the person desires to receive from God. But prayer here especially
   meant is rather an offering and giving to God whatsoever He may justly
   require from us--that is, all duty, love, obedience, &c.; and it is
   principally, yea, almost only exercised by the affective part of the
   soul.

   3. Now prayer, in this general notion, may be defined to be an
   elevation of the mind to God, or more largely and expressly thus:
   prayer is an affectuous actuation of an intellective soul towards God,
   expressing, or at least implying, an entire dependence on Him as the
   Author and Fountain of all good, a will and readiness to give Him His
   due, which is no less than all love, obedience, adoration, glory, and
   worship, by humbling and annihilating of herself and all creatures in
   His presence; and lastly, a desire and intention to aspire to an union
   of spirit with Him.

   4. This is the nature and these the necessary qualities which are all,
   at least virtually, involved in all prayer, whether it be made
   interiorly in the soul only, or withal expressed by words or outward
   signs.

   5. Hence it appears that prayer is the most perfect and most divine
   action that a rational soul is capable of; yea, it is the only
   principal action for the exercising of which the soul was created,
   since in prayer alone the soul is united to God. And, by consequence,
   it is of all other actions and duties the most indispensably necessary.

   6. For a further demonstration of which necessity we may consider: 1.
   That only in prayer we are joined to God, our last end, from whom when
   we are separated we are in ourselves, wherein our chief misery
   consists. 2. That by prayer grace and all good is obtained, conserved,
   and recovered; for God being the Fountain of all good, no good can be
   had but by recourse to Him, which is only by prayer. 3. That by prayer
   alone all exterior good things are sanctified, so as to become
   blessings to us. 4. That prayer does exercise all virtues, in so much
   as whatsoever good action is performed, it is no further meritorious
   than as it proceeds from an internal motion of the soul, elevating and
   directing it to God (which internal motion is prayer); so that
   whatsoever is not prayer, or is not done in virtue of prayer, is little
   better than an action of mere nature. 5. That there is no action with
   which sin is incompatible but prayer. We may, lying in our sins, give
   alms, fast, recite the Divine Office, communicate, obey our superiors,
   &c.; but it is impossible to exercise true prayer of the spirit and
   deliberately continue under the guilt of sin, because by prayer, a soul
   being converted and united to God, cannot at the same time be averted
   and separated from Him. 6. That by prayer alone, approaching to God, we
   are placed above all miseries; whereas, without prayer, the least
   calamity would oppress us. Therefore prayer is the proper remedy
   against all kinds of afflictions, guilt, remorses, &c.

   7. And hence it is that all the devil's quarrels and assaults are
   chiefly, if not only, against prayer; the which if he can extinguish,
   he has all that he aims at--separating us from the fruition and
   adhesion to God, and therewith from all good. And hence likewise it is
   that the duty of prayer is enjoined after such a manner as no other
   duty is, for we are commanded to exercise it without intermission.
   Oportet semper orare et non deficere,--We must needs pray continually
   and never give over.

   8. In the precedent description of prayer in general, I said that it
   was an affectuous actuation of an intellectual soul, by which words is
   signified: 1. That it is not prayer which is performed by the lips
   only, without an inward attention and affection of the soul--that is,
   that prayer which is not mental is not indeed properly prayer; 2. That
   whatsoever employment the mind or understanding exercises in prayer, by
   discoursing, inventing motives, &c., these are only preparations to
   prayer, and not prayer itself, which is only and immediately exercised
   by the will or affections adhering to God, which shall be showed
   hereafter.

   9. Hence it follows that the ordinary division of prayer into vocal and
   mental is improper, because the parts of the division are coincident;
   for vocal prayer, as distinguished from (and much more as opposed to)
   mental, is indeed no prayer at all; and whatever it is, what esteem God
   makes of it, He shows by His prophet, saying: This people honours Me
   with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. In vain do they honour
   Me,' &c.

   10. Yet both a good sense and a good use may be made of that division,
   being explicated after this manner, viz.: that though all true prayer
   may be mental, yet, 1. Some prayers are merely mental without any sound
   of words; yea, there may be such pure blind elevations of the will to
   God, that there are not so much as any express internal words or any
   explicable thoughts of the soul itself. 2. Other prayers may be withal
   vocally expressed in outward words, the soul attending to the sense of
   the words pronounced, or, at least, intending to do so, and this is
   properly vocal prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S: 1. Of Vocal prayer.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. By vocal prayer the ancients attained to
   perfect contemplation. And why this cannot so well be done in these
   times.

   S:S: 10. How voluntary vocal prayers may he made instrumental to
   contemplation.

   S:S: 11. That vocal prayer of obligation is upon no pretence to be
   neglected.

   S:S: 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Of attention required to vocal prayer, and of
   the, degrees of it.

   1. The design of this Treatise being to deliver instructions concerning
   internal contemplative prayer, therefore little shall be said of Vocal
   prayer, and that little also shall be of it considered, as it may among
   others be, an instrument or mean to bring a soul to contemplation.

   2. It cannot be denied but that in ancient times many holy souls did
   attain to perfect contemplation by the mere use of vocal prayer; the
   which likewise would have the same effect upon us if we would or could
   imitate them both in such wonderful solitude or abstraction, rigorous
   abstinences, and incredible assiduity in praying. But for a supply of
   such wants, and inability to support such undistracted long attention
   to God, we are driven to help ourselves by daily set exercises of
   internal prayer to procure an habitual constant state of
   recollectedness, by such exercises repairing and making amends for the
   distractions that we live in all the rest of the day.

   3. Notwithstanding God's hand is not shortened, but that if He please
   He may now also call souls to contemplation by the way of vocal prayer,
   so as that they are their general and ordinary exercise; which, if He
   do, it will be necessary that such souls should, in their course,
   observe these following conditions:

   4. The first is, that they must use a greater measure of abstraction
   and mortification than is necessary for those that exercise mental
   prayer. The reason is, because internal prayer, being far more profound
   and inward, affords a far greater light and grace to discover and cure
   the inordinate affections; it brings the soul likewise to a greater
   simplicity and facility to recollect itself, &c., and therefore vocal
   prayer, to make amends, had need be accompanied with greater
   abstraction, &c.

   5. The second condition is, that those who use vocal prayer must oblige
   themselves to spend a greater time at their daily exercises than is
   necessary for the others, to the end thereby to supply for the less
   efficacy that is in vocal prayer.

   6. The third is, that in case they do find themselves at any time
   invited by God internally to a pure internal prayer (which is likely to
   be of the nature of aspirations), they then must yield to such an
   invitation, and for the time interrupt or cease their voluntary vocal
   exercises for as long time as they find themselves enabled to exercise
   internally. These conditions are to be observed of all those who,
   either in religion or in the world, desire to lead spiritual lives, and
   cannot without extreme difficulty be brought to begin a spiritual
   course with any kind of mere menial prayer.

   7. And, indeed, if any such souls there be to whom vocal prayer (joined
   with the exercise of virtues) is sufficient to promote them to
   contemplation, certain it is that there is no way more secure than it,
   none less subject to indiscretion or illusions, and none less perilous
   to the head or health. And in time (but it will be long first) their
   vocal prayers will prove aspirative, spiritual, and contemplative, by
   their light and virtue illustrating and piercing to the very depth of
   the spirit.

   8. But in these days this case is very extraordinary, and indeed
   unknown; and therefore contemplative religious persons ought not, upon
   any pretence, to dispense with themselves for the exercise of mental
   prayer, whatever pretensions or temptations they may have thereto. They
   may, perhaps, find their vocal prayers to be more clear and
   undistracted, and, on the contrary, their recollections to be painful
   and disturbed; but yet, in time and by constancy in pursuing internal
   exercises, they will find the contrary, and perceive that the ground of
   the difference was either some present corporal indisposition, or
   perhaps a temptation of the devil, to move them to a neglect of
   exercising in spirit. Since certain it is, that little less than a
   miracle will cause vocal prayers, to imperfect souls, to become
   contemplative, or sufficient to produce profound recollection; the
   which effects even those that have long practised internal exercises do
   not find in the reciting of the Office. Such seeming extraordinary
   contemplations, therefore, as seem to come to souls, none knows from
   whence, without any great merit or due disposition on their part, are
   not much to be esteemed, but rather to be suspected; and, however, they
   deserve not that therefore the solid exercises of internal prayer
   should be neglected.

   9. To the like purpose we read that St. Ignatius found extraordinary
   illustrations in soul being at his study of human learning; whereas at
   his ordinary mental prayers he could find no such effects, but, on the
   contrary, much difficulty and obscurity; but this in time he discovered
   to be the working of the devil.

   10. The use of voluntary vocal prayer in order to contemplation may, in
   the beginning of a spiritual course, be proper: 1. For such simple and
   unlearned persons (especially women) as are not at all fit for
   discoursive prayer; 2. yea, even for the more learned, if it be used as
   a means to raise and better their attention to God; yet so that it must
   always give place to internal prayer when they find themselves disposed
   for it.

   11. But as for that vocal prayer, either in public or private, which is
   by the laws of the Church of obligation, no manner of pretences of
   finding more profit by internal exercises ought to be esteemed a
   sufficient ground for any to neglect or disparage it; for though some
   souls of the best dispositions might perhaps more advance themselves
   towards perfection by internal exercises alone, yet, since generally,
   even in religion, souls are so tepid and negligent that if they were
   left to their own voluntary devotions they would scarce ever exercise
   either vocal or mental prayer; therefore, inasmuch as a manifest
   distinction cannot be made between the particular dispositions of
   persons, it was requisite and necessary that all should be obliged to a
   public external performance of divine service, praising God with the
   tongues also (which were for that end given us), that so an order and
   decorum might be observed in God's Church, to the end it might imitate
   the employment of angels and glorified saints in a solemn united
   joining of hearts and tongues to glorify God. This was necessary also
   for the edification and invitation of those who are not obliged to the
   office, who perhaps would never think of God, were they not encouraged
   thereto by seeing good souls spend the greatest part of their time in
   such solemn and almost hourly praying to and praising God.

   12. Now, whereas to all manner of prayer, as hath been said, there is
   necessarily required an attention of the mind, without which it is not
   prayer, we must know that there are several kinds and degrees of
   attention, all of them good, but yet one more perfect and profitable
   than another; for, 1. there is an attention or express reflection on
   the words and sense of the sentence pronounced by the tongue or
   revolved in the mind. Now this attention being, in vocal prayer,
   necessarily to vary and change according as sentences in the Psalms,
   &c., do succeed one another, cannot so powerfully and efficaciously fix
   the mind or affections on God, because they are presently to be
   recalled to new considerations or succeeding affections. This is the
   lowest and most imperfect degree of attention, of which all souls are
   in some measure capable, and the more imperfect they are the less
   difficulty there is in yielding it; for souls that have good and
   established affections to God can hardly quit a good affection by which
   they are united to God, and which they find gustful and profitable for
   them, to exchange it for a new one succeeding in the Office; and if
   they should, it would be to their prejudice.

   13. The second degree is that of souls indifferently well practised in
   internal prayer, who, coming to the reciting of the Office, and either
   bringing with them or by occasion of such reciting raising in
   themselves an efficacious affection to God, do desire without variation
   to continue it with as profound a recollectedness as they may, not at
   all heeding whether it be suitable to the sense of the present passage
   which they pronounce. This is an attention to God, though not to the
   words; and is far more beneficial than the former. And therefore to
   oblige any souls to quit such an attention for the former would be both
   prejudicial and unreasonable. For since all vocal prayers, in Scripture
   or otherwise, were ordained only to this end, to supply and furnish the
   soul that needs with good matter of affection, by which it may be
   united to God, a soul that hath already attained to that end, which is
   union as long as it lasts, ought not to be separated therefrom, and be
   obliged to seek a new means till the virtue of the former be spent.

   14. A third and most sublime degree of attention to the divine Office
   is that whereby vocal prayers do become mental; that is, whereby souls
   most profoundly and with a perfect simplicity united to God can yet,
   without any prejudice to such union, attend also to the sense and
   spirit of each passage that they pronounce, yea, thereby find their
   affection, adhesion, and union increased and more simplified. This
   attention comes not till a soul be arrived to perfect contemplation, by
   means of which the spirit is so habitually united to God, and besides,
   the imagination so subdued to the spirit that it cannot rest upon
   anything that will distract it.

   15. Happy are those souls (of which God knows the number is very small)
   that have attained to this third degree, the which must be ascended to
   by a careful practice of the two former in their order, especially of a
   second degree! And therefore in reciting of the Office even the more
   imperfect souls may do well, whensoever they find themselves in a good
   measure recollected, to continue so long as they well can, preserving
   as much stability in their imagination as may be.

   16. And the best means to beget and increase such a recollected way of
   saying the Divine Office is the practice of internal prayer, either in
   meditation or immediate acts of the will, the only aim and end whereof
   is the procuring an immovable attention and adhesion of the spirit to
   God. And this, as to our present purpose, may suffice concerning vocal
   prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. Of internal prayer in general, and principally of internal
   affective prayer.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5. The excellency and necessity of affective prayer, and
   that it was practised by the ancients; and not discoursive prayer or
   meditation.

   S: 6. The great necessity of it in these days.

   S:S: 7, 8. The testimony of Cardinal Bellarmine to show that vocal
   prayer, &c., sufficeth not.

   S:S: 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. Five admirable virtues of internal
   affective prayer.

   S:S: 16, 17. An exhortation to constancy and courage in pursuing the
   exercise of it.

   1. Internal or Mental prayer (which is simply and merely such, and)
   which we made the second member in the division of Prayer in general
   (if indeed it be a distinct kind), and of which only we shall treat
   hereafter, is either, 1. imperfect and acquired; 2. or perfect, and
   that which is called properly infused prayer. The former is only a
   preparation and inferior disposition, by which the soul is fitted and
   made capable of the infusion of the other, to wit, the Prayer of
   Contemplation, which is the end of all our spiritual and religious
   exercises. I shall therefore, in order, treat of them both and of their
   several special degrees, beginning with the lowest, and thence
   ascending orderly till we come to the highest, which will bring a soul
   to the state of perfection.

   2. But before I come to deliver the special instructions pertinent to
   the exercise of the several degrees of internal prayer, it will be very
   requisite, by way of preparation and encouragement, to set down the
   necessity and excellency of internal prayer in general; I mean
   especially of that which is Affective. For as for discoursive prayer or
   Meditation, the world is but even burdened with books, which with more
   than sufficient niceness prescribe rules and methods for the practice
   of it, and with too partial an affection magnify it, the authors of
   such books neglecting in the mean time, or perhaps scarce knowing what
   true internal affective prayer is, which, notwithstanding, is the only
   efficacious instrument that immediately brings souls to contemplation
   and perfect union in spirit with God.

   3. Some there are that, because they do not find in the writings of the
   ancient Fathers and mystical Doctors such exact instructions touching
   the practice of internal prayer as are now common and abounding in the
   Church, do therefore undervalue and despise it as a mere human
   invention, not at all necessary, but rather, on the contrary, subject
   to great inconveniences, exposing souls to illusions, errors, &c. And
   therefore they, in opposition to it, do only recommend and exact vocal
   prayer, and a solemn protracted performance of it.

   4. Notwithstanding, to any one that shall heedfully read the writings,
   not only of the ancient solitaries, but likewise of St. Augustine, St.
   Basil, St. Gregory Nazianzen and others, it will evidently appear that
   they both knew and practised most profound and recollected devotions
   internally, yea, and exhorted souls to a continual attendance to God
   and His divine presenoe in the spirit; sufficient proofs whereof shall
   occasionally hereafter be inserted.

   5. True, indeed, it is that they have not delivered any exact methods
   for the practice of such prayer, which in those times were not at all
   necessary, or at least not at all needful to be communicated to the
   world. For to souls that lived (as anciently they did) entirely
   sequestered from all worldly business or conversation, in continual
   laborious and penitential exercises, having no images of creatures to
   distract their minds, and much less any inordinate affections to
   creatures to depress them from mounting to spiritual union with God, it
   was more than sufficient for such to know that their duty and the end
   of their solitude was to live in a continual conversation with God,
   suffering themselves to be conducted and managed by His Holy Spirit. To
   such, all other more nice or particular instructions would have proved
   but distractive and entangling; and therefore we see that our holy
   Father, though he ordained daily conventual short recollections for the
   exercise of (that which he calls) pure prayer, yet he neither
   interprets what be means by such prayer (for all his disciples
   understood that sufficiently), and much less does he deliver any
   instructions how to exercise it.

   6. But in these days, in which religious persons and others that aspire
   to spiritual contemplation do either want the means to enjoy, or have
   not the courage and strength to support, such solitude and austerities,
   lest the spirit of contemplation should fail in the world, God raised
   up first in Germany masters of contemplative prayer, as Suso, Harphius,
   Eschius, Thaulerus, &c., in former times, and more lately in Spain,
   [100]St. Teresa, [101]St. John of the Cross, &c., who, no question, by
   the direction of God's Spirit (as the grace of miracles conferred on
   them may witness), have judged it necessary to supply the want of the
   foresaid advantages, by adding a certain obligation to the daily
   practice of internal recollected prayer, prescribing orders and times
   for the performance of it. They have likewise more exactly discovered
   the degrees and progress of prayer, and, in a word, most earnestly do
   they exhort souls to a diligent pursuance of it, professing that
   without it, it is impossible to comply with the essential design of a
   spiritual or religious life.

   7. I will content myself in this place to express the grounds and sum
   of the exhortations of those and other illuminated persons (the
   glorious instruments of God for the reviving of decayed spirituality in
   the world) by producing a passage of Cardinal Bellarmine's, which may
   be applied to this purpose, taken out of one of his sermons (in fer. 2.
   Rogat.), which is this, Ego illud mihi videor verissime posse
   affirmare, &c.--that is, This I believe I may most truly and
   confidently affirm' (saith he) that without a diligent pursuit of
   internal prayer none will ever become truly spiritual, nor attain to
   any degree of perfection. We see many which oftentimes in the year do
   approach to the Sacrament of Penance, and, as far as human frailty and
   infirmity will permit, do with sufficient diligence endeavour to purge
   away all the stains and uncleanness of sin; and yet they make no
   progress, but are still the very same that they were, and having been
   at confession, if a week after they come to the same tribunal again,
   they bring neither fewer nor lesser faults than such as were formerly
   confessed. Yea, without offending against truth, I may add somewhat
   more strange than all this, to wit, that we see sometimes religious
   persons and not a few priests which by their vocation and habits
   profess sanctity, and, moreover, do assiduously read divine Scriptures
   and books of piety; they do often (if not daily) celebrate the most
   holy Sacrifice; they nave neither wives nor children, but are free from
   all cares and solicitudes which may distract them from a continual
   attendance to divine things; and yet, after all this, they are so void
   of all devotion and the Spirit of God, so cold of Divine love, and so
   earnest in the love of secular vanities, so replenished with
   impatience, envy, and all inordinate desires, that they seem not one
   jot to differ from secular persons wholly engaged in the world. Now the
   only cause of these disorders is that they do not seriously enter into
   their own hearts by exercises of introversion, but only esteem and
   regard the exterior,' &c. Thus far are the words and too just complaint
   of the learned and pious Cardinal.

   8. This, with very great reason, may be further extended, even to those
   religious who by their profession ought to aspire to contemplation, and
   being mistaken in the true way thereto, erroneously believing that by
   an exact performance of outward observances and the solemn saying of
   the Office, adjoining the exercises of such internal discursive prayer,
   do yet find but little fruit as to any interior reformation or
   simplification of their souls, by reason that they rest in such active
   exercises (which in a short time, to solitary livers, lose all their
   virtue), and do not from them proceed to the truly enlightening
   exercises of internal affective prayer (which is a prayer of the heart
   or will, by good affections quietly and calmly produced, and not with
   the understanding), a prayer made without those distracting methods or
   that busying of the imagination and wearying of the soul by laborious,
   discourses, which are only inferior and imperfect preparations to true
   prayer.

   9. Now to a consideration of the necessity of internal affective prayer
   we will add certain virtues, benefits, and preeminences thereof,
   compared with all other sorts of prayer, either vocal or discoursively
   mental, the which virtues are indeed admirable and inestimable,
   deserving to be purchased with all the cares and endeavours of our
   whole lives.

   10. The first excellency of internal affective prayer above all other
   is, that only by such prayer our union in spirit with God (in which our
   eternal happiness consists) is perfectly obtained. For therein the will
   with all the powers and affections of the soul are applied and fixed to
   the loving, adoring, and glorifying this only beatifying Object,
   whereas in vocal prayer there is a continual variety and succession of
   images of creatures suggested, the which do distract the souls of the
   imperfect from such an application. And meditation, in which discourse
   is employed, is, so far, little more than a philosophical contemplation
   of God, delaying this fixing of the heart and affections on God, which
   are only acceptable to Him.

   11. The second virtue is this, that by this prayer of the will, the
   soul entering far more profoundly into God, the fountain of lights,
   partakes of the beams of His divine light far more plentifully, by
   which she both discovers God's perfections more clearly and also sees
   the way wherein she is to walk more perfectly than by any other prayer;
   and the reason is because, when the soul endeavours to apply all her
   affections entirely on God, then only it is that, being profoundly
   introverted, a world of impurities of intention and inordinate
   affections lurking in her do discover themselves, and the obscure mists
   of them are dispelled, the soul then finding by a real perception and
   feeling how prejudicial they are to her present union in will with God;
   whereas, when the understanding alone, or principally, is busied, in
   the consideration of God or of the soul herself, the imagination (which
   is very active and subtle) will not represent to the soul either God or
   herself so liquidly and sincerely; but being blinded and seduced by
   natural self-love, will invent a hundred excuses and pretexts to
   deceive the soul, and to make her believe that many things are intended
   and done purely for God, which proceeded principally, if not totally,
   from the root of concupiscence and self-love.

   12. A third admirable perfection of internal affective prayer is this,
   that not only divine light, but also grace and spiritual strength to
   put in practice all things to which supernatural light directs, is
   obtained principally by this internal prayer of the heart, and this by
   a double causality and virtue, to wit: 1. By way of impetration,
   grounded on the rich and precious promises made by God to prayer above
   all other good actions. 2. By a direct and proper efficiency; for since
   all the virtue and merit of our external actions does depend upon and
   flow from the internal disposition and operations of the soul
   exercising charity and purity of intention in them, and conquering the
   resistance of nature, and since all internal exercises of all virtues
   whatsoever are truly and in propriety of speech direct prayer of the
   spirit, hence it follows that as all habits are gotten by frequency and
   constancy of exercise, therefore, by the persevering in the exercise of
   internal prayer, the soul is enabled with facility to practise
   perfectly all virtues.

   13. To this may be added that such prayer is universal mortification,
   and a mortification the most profound, intime, and perfect that a soul
   can possibly perform, entirely destructive to sensual satisfaction. For
   therein the will forces inferior nature and all the powers of the soul
   to avert themselves from all other objects pleasing to them, and to
   concur to her internal actuations towards God; and this oftentimes in
   the midst of distractions by vain images, during a torpid dulness of
   the heart, yea, a violent contradiction of sensuality, when there is,
   according to any sensible perception, a total disgust in the soul to
   such an exercise, yea, when the spirit itself is in obscurity, and
   cannot by any reflexed act reap any consolation from such an exercise.
   Such an exilium cordis, such a desertion and internal desolation is a
   mortification to the purpose; yet, as of extreme bitterness, so of
   unexpressible efficacy to the purifying and universal perfecting of the
   soul and spirit. Therefore St. Chrysostome (Tract. de Oratione) had
   good reason to say: It is impossible; again I say it is utterly
   impossible that a soul which with a due care and assiduity prays unto
   God should ever sin.

   14. A fourth excellence of internal affective prayer is that it is the
   only action that cannot possibly want purity of intention. Souls may,
   from an impulse of nature and its satisfaction, exactly observe fasts,
   perform obediences, keep the choir, approach to sacraments, yea,
   exercise themselves in curious speculations during meditations, or in
   the exercise of sensible devotion they may comply with self-love, &c.
   (and, indeed, they have no farther any purity of intention in any of
   these duties than as they do proceed from internal affective prayer,
   that is, the will fixed by charity on God). Whereas if any oblique
   intention should endeavour to insinuate itself into internal prayer or
   the will it would presently be observed, and unless it were
   contradicted and expelled there could be no progress in such prayer. So
   that it is not possible to find an exercise either more secure or more
   profitable, since it is by the virtue of it alone that all other
   exercises have any concurrence towards the perfecting of the soul.

   15. Lastly, affective prayer of the will is that alone which makes all
   other sorts of prayer to deserve the name of prayer; for were that
   excluded, meditation is but an useless speculation and curiosity of the
   understanding, and vocal prayer but an empty sound of words; for God
   only desires our hearts or affections, without which our tongues or
   brains are of no esteem at all. Yea, there is not so much as any
   profitable attention in any prayer further than the heart concurs. For
   if the attention be only of the mind, that will not constitute prayer,
   for then study or disputation about divine things might be called
   prayer. Hence, saith an ancient holy hermit, Nunquam vere orat quisquis
   etiam flexis genibus evagatione cordis etiam qualicumque distrahitur;
   that is, that man does never truly pray who, though he be upon his
   knees, is distracted with any wandering or in attention of his heart.
   And likewise the learned Soto, to the same purpose, conclusively
   affirms, Orationi mentali deesse non potest attentio, cum ipsa
   attentio, &c.; that is, attention cannot possibly be wanting to mental
   prayer (of the heart) since the attention itself is the very prayer.
   And therefore it is a contradiction to say that one prays mentally and
   is not attentive, as is of itself manifest; for as soon as ever the
   mind begins to wander it ceases to pray. Therefore vocal prayer is only
   that prayer which may want attention, namely, when the thoughts
   diverting themselves to other objects, the tongue, without the
   concurrence of the mind, gives an uncertain sound. And we may add that
   the attention of the mind, which cannot be separated from discoursive
   prayer, is little valuable except it be accompanied with, or performed
   in order to the causing an attention (as we may call it) of the heart
   or affections.

   16. These inestimable benefits (to which more may be added, as shall be
   shown), which flow from internal prayer of the will, being considered,
   a well-minded soul will think no pains too much that may avail to
   purchase so invaluable a jewel. And religious superiors will esteem
   that nothing does so essentially belong to their duty as to instruct
   and further their subjects in the practice of it: according to the
   counsel of [102]St. Bernard, Docendus est incipiens spiritualiter
   orare, et a corporibus vel corporum imaginibus cum Deum cogitat quantum
   potest recedere; that is, whosoever begins a religious course of life
   must be taught spiritual prayer, and in elevating his mind to God to
   transcend all bodies and bodily images. And with just reason did the
   holy Grecian Abbot Nilus (a disciple of St. John Chrysostome) say,
   Beata mens quae dum orat, &c. Happy is the soul that when she prays
   empties herself entirely of all images and forms; happy is the soul
   that prays fervently and without distraction: such a soul increases
   continually in the desire and love of God; happy is the soul that, when
   she prays, does altogether quit the use and exercise of all her senses;
   happy is the soul that during the time of prayer loses the possession
   and interest in all manner of things (but God)!

   17. And, indeed, a soul must expect to pass through a world of
   difficulties before she attain to such a purity in prayer, for as the
   same author saith, Universum bellum quod inter nos et daemones
   conflatur, non est de alia re quam de oratione; that is, all the war
   and controversy that is between us and the Devil is about no other
   thing but prayer, as being most necessary to us, and most destructive
   to all his designs. And hereupon a certain holy Father, being asked
   what duty in a religious life was the most difficult, answered, to pray
   well. The reason is because prayer can never be perfectly exercised
   till the soul be cleansed from all manner of impurities, yea, not only
   from the affections, but all images also of creatures.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S:S: 1, 2. Conditions required to affective prayer: of which the first
   is, that it ought to be continual, by our Lord's precept.

   S: 3. The shameful neglect of this precept, both in practice and
   teaching in these times.

   S: 4. Of the ancient heretic, called Euchites, that, misunderstanding
   this precept, neglected all other duties besides prayer.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7. In what sense the said precept obliges us to pray
   continually.

   S: 8. All other virtues are to be measured by the degrees of prayer.

   S: 9. How the neglect of actual prayer may be a mortal sin.

   S: 10. Our religious profession and rule oblige us to aspire to
   uninterrupted prayer.

   S:S: 11, 12. Neither vocal prayer nor meditation can become
   uninterrupted; but only internal affective prayer.

   S:S: 13, 14, 15, 16. Whether the habit of continual prayer may be
   attained by prolonged vocal offices.

   S:S: 17, 18. That the sure means to attain to it is a constant practice
   of daily recollections.

   S:S: 19, 20. Who they are that shall he accounted by our Lord to have
   satisfied the obligation of this precept.

   1. Having showed the necessity and excellency of Affective Prayer, I
   will now treat of certain qualities and conditions requisite thereto,
   of which I will at the present insist only on three, to wit: 1. The
   first, regarding the extension of it; 2. the second, the intension or
   fervour of it; 3. the third, the cause or principle from which it must
   proceed, to wit, the Divine Spirit.

   2. As touching the first point, to wit, the extension of prayer, it is
   our Lord's command that we should never omit this duty of prayer
   (oportet semper orare et non deficere), we ought always to pray, and
   not to cease (or faint in it). And St. Paul exhorts indifferently all
   Christians (sine interinissione orate), pray without intermission. Now
   in this precept of our Lord there is an obligation so express, so
   universal, and so confirmed, and repeated both affirmatively and
   negatively, that all exception and derogation seems to be excluded, and
   that it binds both semper et ad semper. In all the Gospel we can scarce
   find a precept so fast-binding and so unquestionable.

   3. This being evident, how can any one without grief and indignation
   read the strange dispensations and escapes invented and allowed by some
   late writers to defeat this so necessary a duty? Because, perhaps, no
   man can positively say that, hic et nunc, actual prayer is necessary
   and obliging under mortal sin, therefore they conclude that, except two
   or three moments of our life, it is not at all necessary to pray; that
   is, in the first moment that a child comes to the use of reason, and in
   the last moment when a soul is ready to expire; for then, indeed, some
   of them (not all) acknowledge that without mortal sin a soul cannot
   deliberately and wilfully neglect to lift up itself to God. As for the
   Divine Office, those to whom the reciting of it is of obligation, such
   (say they) are only bound under mortal sin to the external
   pronunciation of the words; as for the mentality of it, that is only a
   matter of counsel of perfection.

   4. In the ancient times there was a certain sect of heretics that
   wandered as far wide the contrary way; who, upon a mistaken
   interpretation of this precept of our Saviour, neglected, yea,
   condemned all other things besides prayer, despising the sacraments,
   omitting the necessary duties of their vocation, refusing to do any
   external acts of charity, &c.; and from this frenzy they were called
   Euchitae, that is, persons that did nothing but pray.

   5. But the truth lies between these two extremes; for most manifest it
   is that we are obliged to aspire unto uninterrupted prayer, and yet
   most certain also it is that besides simple prayer there are many other
   duties required of us. The sense, therefore, and importance of our
   Lord's precept of praying continually without failing may be cleared by
   two passages of St. Paul. The first is this (1 Tim. iv.), Cibos creavit
   Deus ad percipiendum, &c.; that is, God hath created meats to be
   received with giving of thanks by His faithful servants, and those
   which have known the truth. For every creature of God is good, and
   nothing to be rejected which is received with giving of thanks; for it
   is sanctified by the word of God and by prayer. The second is (1 Cor.
   x.), Sive ergo manducatis sive, &c.; that is, therefore, whether you
   eat or drink, or what other thing soever you do, do all to the glory of
   God. From which text it appears, 1. That all creatures are in their use
   unsanctified unto us, that is, profane, unless they be used with
   prayer. 2. That we are obliged not only in the use of creatures by
   eating and drinking, &c., but also in all our other actions whatsoever,
   to join prayer and a consecrating of them to God's glory, so that if we
   comply with these our obligations and duties, we must continually
   either be in actual prayer or busied in something done in virtue of
   prayer.

   6. Now, as we said in the first Treatise, that although all are not
   obliged necessarily to attain unto the perfection proportionable to
   each one's state, yet all are necessarily bound to aspire thereunto;
   because no man can love God with a sincere love, and such an one as may
   be accounted worthy of Him who is our only God and beatitude, that
   shall fix any limits to his love, or that shall not aspire continually
   to a further and higher degree of his love; so here, likewise, we are
   to conceive that this precept of praying continually so indefinitely
   expressed, so earnestly pressed, so universally applied, both by our
   Lord and His apostle to all Christians, doth infer an indefinite and
   universal obligation, so as that although none but the perfect do
   really fulfil it, yet all, even the most imperfect, cannot without
   danger dispense with or neglect the endeavouring and aspiring to the
   fulfilling of it. Every one must exercise as much prayer as shall be
   necessary to sanctify his vocation, and make the works and duties of
   his life acceptable to God and helpful to the procuring of his eternal
   felicity.

   7. And the ground of this obligation is both very firm and manifest,
   which is this, that even reason dictates that all the things we do we
   ought to do them in order to our last end, which is God; that is, with
   a sanctified intention (for whatsoever is not done with a right
   intention in order to God is of no worth at all, being only a work of
   corrupt nature). Now, since there are only two things which do sanctify
   all things and actions, to wit, the word of God and prayer: the word of
   God generally, that is the certain and revealed will of God, that the
   thing is in itself lawful to be used or done, and prayer in particular,
   proceeding from faith or assurance that the thing is lawful, and
   thereupon acknowledging it to be God's gift, desiring His blessing on
   it, and referring it to His glory, &c.: hence it evidently follows that
   since without prayer all things are unsanctified or profane, not at all
   conducing to our last end, but rather prejudicial to it, therefore all
   are bound to endeavour to sanctify all their actions and works by
   prayer.

   8. Hence we may infer that the degrees of grace and sanctity in any man
   are to be measured according to the virtue that prayer has upon his
   actions, for the more and more frequently that his ordinary actions are
   performed in virtue of prayer, the more perfect and holy such an one
   is, and the more approaching to his chief end; and he whose actions do
   not, for the most part, flow from the virtue of prayer is not yet right
   disposed towards his last end.

   9. Now, though perhaps scarce any man can say that, hic et nunc, actual
   prayer is necessarily obliging under mortal sin, yet withal, most
   certain it is that that man has reason to doubt that he is in a
   mortally sinful state that does not use so much prayer as thereby to
   sanctify and render meritorious the generality of his more serious
   actions, or (which is all one) he is in a state mortally sinful that
   for the most part lives wilfully and habitually in a neglect of grace,
   which can no way be obtained without prayer. Therefore it is observable
   that the disciples of our Lord never asked any instructions but how to
   pray, for that skill being once had, all other good things are
   consequently had; and when all other actions are performed by grace
   obtained by prayer, and for the end proposed in prayer, then a person
   may be said to lie in continual prayer, and much more if they be
   accompanied with an actual elevation of the spirit to God.

   10. This is the perfection of prayer to which our holy [103]Rule
   obliges us to aspire, namely, besides the set exercises either of vocal
   or internal prayer, to preserve our souls in an uninterrupted attention
   to God and tendance in spirit to Him, so as that whatsoever actions we
   do, they should be accompanied (instantissima oratione) with a most
   fervent and perseverant prayer. And that this perfection of continual
   prayer in a supreme degree has been really attained to by the ancient
   contemplatives, and accounted by them an essential duty of their
   vocation, is evident out of what we read in several places in Cassian:
   Hic finis totius perfectionis est, &c. (saith a holy hermit there.)
   This is the end of all perfection, to have the soul become so
   extenuated and purified from all carnal desires, as that it may
   continually be in an actual ascent to spiritual things, until all its
   conversation and employment and every motion of the heart become one
   continual prayer. We mentioned, likewise, before a hermit, whose spirit
   was so continually fixed on God that he could not, though he
   endeavoured, to depress it for so small a time as till he might fetch
   from the other end of his cell some small thing that his neighbour
   desired of him. The like continual attention to God Gregory Lopez
   acknowledgeth to have been in himself by long practice of recollection,
   so that though he would, he could not but think on Him, the which
   attention and union no work, conversation, or study could interrupt.
   Another hermit, likewise in Cassian (in 19 conf.), called John, saith
   of himself, how he forgot whether be had taken his daily sustenance, so
   continual was his prayer, by which their senses became so stupefied
   that they saw not what was before their eyes. To this purpose it is
   reported in the Lives of the Fathers that when a certain religious man,
   in a journey, met with a little troop of religious women, and seeing
   them, purposely turned out of the way to avoid them, the abbess said to
   him, If thou hadst been a perfect monk, indeed, though thou hadst seen
   us, thou wouldst not have known that we were women.'

   11. Now it is impossible for a soul to continue without interruption in
   vocal prayer, there being so many necessary occasions hourly occurring
   to employ the tongue other ways, besides that, it would utterly exhaust
   the spirits. And as for meditation, the exercise thereof is so painful
   that it would destroy the head to force the imagination continually to
   invent and discourse internally on divine or spiritual objects.

   12. Therefore by no other manner of prayer but the internal exercise of
   the will in holy desires, &c., can this precept of our Lord be
   perfectly accomplished. For the soul is naturally in a continual
   exercise of some one desire or other, the which are not at all painful
   to her, being her natural employment, so that if by practice we can so
   rectify our desires as to place them upon their only true and proper
   object, which is God, it will necessarily follow that the soul should
   be in continual prayer. Si semper desideras, semper oras, saith St.
   Augustine; if thou dost continually desire (God) thou dost continually
   pray. Such desires, by custom, will become easy and as it were natural
   to the soul, and consequently, without any force used on the
   imagination or understanding, they may be continued without
   interruption, for they will flow as freely as breath from the lungs;
   and where such desires do abound, flowing from a holy inward temper of
   soul, there no employment will be undertaken that shall cross or
   prejudice such desires; on the contrary, they will give a tincture to
   all actions, directing them to the object of those desires, and thereby
   adding to the fervency of them.

   13. Now a question may be made, whether in contemplative orders, where
   likewise there is used much abstraction, solitude, and other
   austerities, souls may attain to this uninterrupted prayer by the way
   of meditation, or else of long-continued vocal prayers alone, without
   appointed recollections of internal affective prayer constantly
   exercised?

   14. Hereto it may be answered, first, that as for meditation, it is an
   exercise so disproportionable to the nature of such a state (except as
   a preparation for awhile in the beginning), that it is not possible to
   be the constant and continued exercise of such persons; for, as shall
   be shown, the imagination and understanding, by much exercise thereof
   in an undistracted life, will become so barren, and it will produce so
   small or no effects in good affections in the will, that it will be
   disgustful and insupportable, so that all use of meditation must be for
   a long space passed and relinquished before the soul will be brought to
   this good state of having a continual flux of holy desires.

   15. But in the second place, touching long-continued vocal prayers and
   offices, without any set exercises of internal recollection, no doubt
   it is but by them such religious persons may be brought to this habit
   of continual prayer; so that, 1. They hold their minds to as much
   attention as reasonably they can. 2. So that out of choir they keep
   their minds from distractive affections or solicitudes either about
   studies or any other employments, voluntary or imposed. 3. So they be
   watchful over themselves not to give scope to thoughts which may be
   harmful to them. (Thus the ancient hermits arrived to this perfection.)
   4. A fourth condition may be that such persons content themselves with
   the public office, &c., not overburden themselves with a surcharge of
   voluntary vocal prayers; for Turrecremata saith well (on the Decr. d.
   92.), that the voice and other external doings are in prayer to be used
   only so far as by them to raise internal devotion, so that if by the
   excess of them it should be hindered or the mind distracted, they ought
   to be abstained from. And St. Augustine (no doubt from experience as
   well as judgment) saith, Quantum proficis ad videndam sapientiam, tanto
   minus est vox necessaria; that is, the greater progress thou makest in
   contemplative wisdom, so much less necessary will vocal praying be.
   Such persons, therefore, if in their solitude they do not appoint to
   themselves any set recollections, yet ought they to keep their minds in
   a state of as much recollectedness as may be, by interrupted good
   desires, at least begetting in their minds an affection to prayer and
   an appetite to the succeeding office.

   16. Notwithstanding, certain it is that vocal prayers though never so
   much prolonged and in never so great solitude, yet will never produce
   this effect where the true spirit of contemplative prayer is not known,
   and such ignorance hath been even in orders of the greatest abstraction
   and austerity; thus we see that Germanus and Cassianus, though
   practised many years in a strict cenobitical life, yet were astonished
   when they heard the holy hermits discourse of pure spiritual prayer,
   free from images, &c.

   17. It remains, therefore, that, ordinarily speaking, the only
   efficacious and immediate disposition to the habit of uninterrupted
   prayer is a constant exercise of internal prayer of the will, by which
   the soul being daily forced to a serious attendance and tendance to God
   in spirit, by little and little becomes more and better affected to a
   frequent conversation with Him, and in time loses all relish or taste
   of pleasures in creatures.

   18. This, I say, will be the effect of such constant and fervent
   exercise of recollections; for as for those which are commonly called
   ejaculatory prayers, that is, good affections now and then, by fits,
   and with frequent interruptions exercised, though they are very good
   and profitable, and withal very fit to be used in the midst of reading
   especially, or any other external employments, yet they alone will,
   though joined to the ordinary use of the Divine Office, be insufficient
   to produce such a habit of soul. And the reason is because being so
   short and with such interruption exercised, the virtue of them is
   presently spent, and will have little or no effect upon subsequent
   actions; but as for the ejaculatory prayers mentioned and worthily
   commended by the holy hermits in Cassian, the nature of them is quite
   different from those forementioned, for they are indeed not different
   from infused aspirations, being the effects flowing from the habit of
   continual prayer already acquired, and not imperfect preparations
   thereto.

   19. To conclude, none can account themselves to have satisfied (in that
   perfection that they ought) the obligation imposed upon them by this
   necessary precept of our Lord (Oportet semper orare et non deficere);
   but, 1. Such as do actually exercise as much prayer as may consist with
   their abilities, and as is necessary to produce contemplation (if such
   be their state of life), and, moreover, such actual prayer as is
   suitable thereto, yet not indiscreetly straining themselves beyond
   their power to perform it perfectly at first, lest it happen unto them,
   according to the saying of the prophet (Jerem. xxviii.), Quia plus
   fecit quam potuit, ideireo periit; that is, because he did more than he
   was able, therefore he perished. 2. Such as when discretion or other
   necessary employments do withdraw them from actual prayer, yet do
   preserve in their minds a love and desire of it, and a firm resolution
   courageously to break through all discouragements and hindrances to it.
   3. Such as do endeavour to do all their actions in virtue of prayer,
   that is, with the same holy and pure intention, as God gave them in
   their precedent prayers. 4. Such as do abstain from all voluntary
   employments as do indispose their minds for prayer, keeping their souls
   in such a disposition as to be able presently to correspond to an
   interior divine invitation to prayer, if God shall send it, and to be
   in a capacity of receiving and perceiving such invitations. Now this is
   done by keeping a continual guard over our passions that they break not
   forth so as to indispose us even for present recollection, and much
   less for the appointed recollection which is to follow. 5. Such as do
   practise mortification in a measure suitable to their state, thereby
   rooting out those inordinate affections which cause distraction in
   prayer and are hindrances to a state of recollectedness. For as that
   fundamental precept of loving God obliges a soul at least never to do
   anything contrary thereto, so does that of prayer oblige that we should
   always be in a disposition and readiness to it.

   20. Therefore let souls consider in what an insecure and dangerous
   state they remain that content themselves with a few heartless
   distracted vocal prayers, since not any temptation can be resisted
   without an actual exercise of prayer, and that the best prayer that the
   soul can make. Besides, it is not with prayer as with other arts or
   habits; a student by cessation from study doth not presently lose nor
   so much as diminish the knowledge that he had before, but a soul that
   is not in actual prayer, or at least in an immediate disposition and an
   habitual desire of prayer, sinks presently into nature and loses much
   of that strength that she had formerly. There are not always occasions
   to exercise particular virtues, as temperance, patience, chastity, &c.;
   because temptations do not always assault us; but we may always pray,
   and always we have need so to do, for a soul, except she be in prayer,
   or that the virtue of prayer be alive in her, is in a state of
   distraction and disunion from God, and, consequently, exposed to all
   manner of enemies, being withal deprived of the only means to resist
   them, so that the dangers and miseries of an unrecollected life are
   inexplicable.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S: 1. The second condition requisite in affective prayer, to wit,
   fervour or devotion.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4. The, seat of this devotion is not necessarily the
   sensitive part of the soul.

   S:S: 5, 6. Of a twofold sensible devotion.

   S: 7. It is neither to be neglected nor too much prized.

   S:S: 8, 9. Certain exterior effects of sensible devotion: from which
   great inconveniences may ensue.

   S: 10. Sensible devotion no sure sign of true grace. A fearful example
   thereof.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13. What use imperfect souls are to make of it.

   S: 14. Fears are to be repressed.

   S: 15. Perfect souls in small danger by it.

   S: 16. Of the prayer of aridity, quite contrary to sensible, yet not to
   true devotion.

   S:S: 17, 18, 19. The excellent benefits that may come from the prayer
   of aridity.

   S: 20. The causes of aridities.

   S:S: 21, 22. Vocal prayer and meditation not so much subject thereto.

   S:S: 23, 24. More good comes from prayer of aridity courageously
   pursued than from prayer of sensible devotion.

   S: 25. The superior soul and its good disposition does not depend on
   the temper of sensitive nature.

   S:S: 26, 27. Means to beget courage in the prayer of aridity.

   S: 28. How a soul is to behave herself in the most violent distresses
   in prayer.

   S: 29. The prayer exercised by imperfect souls during aridities is not
   properly in spirit.

   1. As, 1. Prayer, for the quantity or extension of it, is to be
   incessant, at least the virtue of it is to be an ingredient in all
   other works, whether they be study, labour, conversation, &c. (the
   which may be without any prejudice at all to the work, yea, to the
   great improvement and super-naturalising of it so far that where prayer
   is wanting the most specious works are of no value at all), so in the
   next place; 2. As to the quality or intention of it, it ought to be
   (instantissima, saith our holy Father in Prolog.) with all possible
   fervour and earnestness; for prayer being the most immediate and most
   perfect act of charity to God, ought, like charity itself, to proceed
   (ex toto corde, ex tota anima; et ex totis viribus) from the whole
   heart, the whole soul, and the whole strength. Therefore as he offends
   against the precept of charity that employs either his spirit,
   sensitive soul, or corporal strength on anything but God, or which has
   respect to God, His love or glory; so, if in our prayer we do willingly
   suffer our thoughts to wander upon anything but God, or if we harbour
   any desire in sensitive nature that would hinder the free tendence of
   our spirit to God in prayer, or if we employ our corporal strength
   about any other matter but such as may and ought to be intended for God
   in our prayer, we do so far neglect to correspond to this duty of
   fervour and instance which ought to be in prayer.

   2. Notwithstanding this is not so to be understood, as if we were
   obliged either to employ our corporal forces or members, or to force
   our sensible affections to concur in our prayers to God, or as if God
   did require that this fervour should always be in sensitive nature, for
   that is not always in our power; yea, on the contrary, the sensual part
   moves often against our wills, being insensible, averse, and impatient
   of accompanying our spiritual actuations, which commonly do mortify and
   contradict the desires of nature. 2. And, moreover, when sensible
   fervour and devotion doth insinuate itself in our recollections
   (especially in imperfect souls) it does rather endanger to depress the
   operations of the spirit than advance them, and does, perhaps, more
   nourish self-love than contribute to the increase of divine love.

   3. It is sufficient, therefore, if this fervour be in our superior will
   alone, though sensitive nature seem to partake nothing of it. So that
   our prayers may then be said to be instant and fervourous when the
   will, out of a worthy and high esteem of this most necessary and most
   excellent duty, resolutely and with perseverance pursues them,
   notwithstanding any contradiction in nature or discouragements from
   without, for that must needs be a great fervour of spirit that
   contradicts the contrary malignant fervour of nature, and undervalues
   all sensible ease and contentment compared with the spiritual good that
   is caused by prayer.

   4. This is that good quality which our Saviour, in the parable of him
   who at midnight went to his neighbour to borrow three loaves of bread
   for the entertainment of a friend that was then arrived, calls by a
   homely name, to wit, improbitatem, or, as it is in the original,
   impudence; which quality, notwithstanding, he requires in our prayers
   to God, and promises an infallible success thereto. Now that improbity
   or impudence implies an importunate earnestness, a resolution to take
   no denial nor to stand upon nice civilities, but rather than to return
   empty, to force out a grant even by wearying out the person to whom we
   address ourselves; so that it includes both a great fervour and an
   incessant perseverance in such fervour, which is in a high degree in
   those who spend their whole lives as it were in one continual prayer,
   yea, in one only petition, which is, to be united in will and affection
   to God only.

   5. These, therefore, being two qualities requisite in prayer, 1.
   Earnestness or fervour, and 2. Perseverance (both which are likewise
   included in the term [instantissima] given to prayer by our holy
   Father), imperfect souls will be apt to suspect ofttimes that their
   prayers are inefficacious, as being deprived of these conditions. 1.
   The former, when they do not perceive a tenderness and melting devotion
   in sensitive nature. 2. And the latter they will fear is wanting
   whensoever they find themselves (though unwillingly) distracted.
   Therefore to the end to prevent mistakes, and that a right judgment may
   be made of these two, to wit, sensible devotion and distractions, I
   will treat of them both, showing what good or ill effects may proceed
   from the former, and what remedies may be applied to hinder any
   inconveniences from the latter.

   6. There is a twofold sensible devotion. 1. The first is that which we
   now speak of, which is found in good but imperfect souls, and it begins
   in sensitive nature, causing great tenderness there, and from thence it
   mounts up to the spirit, producing good and melting affections to God
   and especially (in discoursive prayer) to the humanity and sufferings
   of our Lord. 2. Another sensible devotion there is of perfect souls,
   the which begins in the spirit, and abounding there, overflows, and by
   communication descends into inferior sensitive nature, causing like
   effects to the former. Now there is little need to give cautions or
   instructions concerning the use of this; because perfect souls walking
   in a clear light, and being established in a generous love of the
   superior will towards God, are not in danger to be transported with the
   pleasing effects which it is apt to produce in inferior nature, nor to
   fall into spiritual gluttony, by which their affections may be
   withdrawn from God and fixed on such mean gifts of His as these are.
   That, therefore, which I shall here speak concerning sensible devotion
   is to be applied unto that which is found in souls less perfect, for
   for such only all these instructions were meant.

   7. Such souls then are to be informed that though sensible devotion be
   indeed at the first a good gift of God, intended by Him for their
   encouragement and advancement in His pure love, as it is therefore not
   to be neglected, so neither is it over highly to be prized. For as very
   good effects may flow from it, being well and discreetly used, so, on
   the contrary, without such discretion it may prove very pernicious,
   endangering to plunge them more deeply in self-love and corrupt nature
   (in which it is much immersed), and so it would produce an effect
   directly contrary to that for which prayer was ordained. A soul,
   therefore, is to separate that which is good and profitable in such
   devotion from that which is imperfect and dangerous, renouncing and
   mortifying this latter, and with discretion giving way and making her
   profit of the other.

   8. The special signs and effects of such sensible devotion are ofttimes
   very conspicuous in the alteration caused by it in corporal nature,
   drawing tears from the eyes, producing heat and redness in the face,
   springing motions in the heart (like to the leaping of a fish in the
   waters, saith Harphius), and in some it causes so perceivable an
   opening and shutting in the heart, saith he, that it may be heard. And
   from such unusual motions and agitations about the heart, a windy
   vapour will now and then mount up to the head, causing a pricking pain
   there, which, if the head be not strong, may continue a good space;
   yea, if good care he not taken to interrupt such impetuosities of the
   spirits, the blood will first boil, and afterwards will grow thick and
   congealed, incapable of motion. And this once happening, the inward
   sweetnesses formerly felt will be turned into sadness, dejection, and
   stupidity; thence will follow complaints that the soul is forsaken of
   God, yea, she will be in danger desperately to renounce all further
   seeking of God; and the more that she shall endeavour to recover her
   former sensible affections, the farther will she be from it, and
   impatience for this will render her still more disposed, more darkened
   in the understanding, and more stupefied in her affections.

   9. Now all these inconveniences proceed from self-love and a too
   gluttonous delectation in sensible sweetnesses, which, if they be
   accompanied with any extraordinary visits, there will follow (it is to
   be feared) yet far more dangerous effects in unprepared souls, the
   which will probably take occasion from thence to nourish pride in
   themselves and a contempt of others.

   10. To abate the too high esteem that unwary souls may have of this
   sensible fervour and devotion, it may be observed that it is not always
   a sign of a good disposition or holiness in the soul, for we read of
   several impious persons that have enjoyed it; so history makes mention
   of a certain wicked tyrant called William Prince of Juliers, how at his
   devotions, in the midnight of our Lord's Nativity, he twice or thrice
   felt so great an internal sweetness in divine visitations, that he
   professed afterward that he would be content to purchase with the loss
   of half his dominions such another consolation. Yet after his death it
   was revealed to a certain holy person that he was in hell, condemned to
   torments equal to those that that wicked persecuting Emperor Maxentius
   suffered.

   11. The root of such sensible sweetnesses is oftentimes a mere natural
   temper of body; yea, by God's permission, the devil also will be
   forward enough to raise and increase it in unmortified self-willed
   souls, knowing that they will make ill use of it, either to the
   augmenting of their pride, or to a presumptuous undertaking of
   mortifications above their strength, by which in a short time their
   spirits will be so exhausted and their forces enfeebled, that they will
   become unable any more to correspond with divine grace, even in duties
   necessarily belonging to their profession; and when this happens, then
   all sweetness of devotion ceases, and in place thereof succeed
   anguishes, scrupulosities, pusillanimity, and perhaps even desperation.
   Therefore well-minded souls are to take special care of preventing
   these effects of sensible devotion which, without great vigilance, they
   are in danger to incur. And thereupon Harphius advises earnestly such
   to moderate with discretion the violent impulses of their internal
   desires to God; for (saith he) if they shall always to the utmost
   extent of their ability pursue them, they will find themselves in a
   short time quite exhausted and disabled to perform even easier and more
   necessary obligations.

   12. The true use and benefit, therefore, that imperfect souls ought to
   make of sensible devotion (when God sends it) is this, that without
   resting much on it, or forcing themselves to continue it, they should
   make it an instrument to fortify and establish the solid true love and
   esteem of God in the superior soul, and to confirm an unshaken
   resolution in themselves never to desist from seeking Him by the
   internal ways of the spirit, even in times of desertion and aridity.

   13. And if they will make this use of it, then from what cause soever
   it proceeds--yea, though the devil himself helping or changing the body
   should have caused it--no harm can come unto them thereby; for a soul
   is most secure while she neglects and disesteems the effects of
   sensible devotion as far as they are pleasing to sensitive nature, and
   transcending it, shall endeavour to exercise herself towards God
   quietly yet resolutely in the superior will; and by the like practice
   may a soul obtain the like security in all extraordinary doubtful cases
   of visions, ecstasies, &c.

   14. More particularly forasmuch as concerns tears (which are usual
   effects of sensible devotion), a soul must be wary that she give not
   free scope unto them, whatever the object or cause be, whether it be
   compassion to our Lord's sufferings or contrition for her own sins, &c.
   In all cases it is best to suppress them rather than to give them a
   free liberty to flow, for otherwise, besides the harm that may
   outwardly happen to the body by impairing the health or weakening the
   head, they will keep her still below in sensitive nature and
   immortification, with little or no advancement towards the true love of
   God. On the contrary, they do hinder the elevation of the spirit by
   obscuring the mind, that it cannot discover her secret defects, nor
   what would best keep her in her way. Let her therefore exercise these
   acts in the superior soul and will, from whence all merit comes, and by
   which they are performed with quietness and stillness, yet withal more
   efficaciously than in sensitive nature.

   15. The case is otherwise in perfect souls, when God by an
   extraordinary grace bestows on them the gift of tears (as to St.
   Arsenius, who is said to have flowed almost continually with them), for
   in this case they do begin from the spirit, whose operations inferior
   nature doth not at all hinder, but rather promote in them. And such
   tears flow (tanquam pluvia in vellus) like a shower of rain into a
   fleece of wool, without the least disturbance and bitterness in
   inferior nature; which is a grace very rarely, if at all, granted to
   imperfect souls, and therefore those upon whom it is bestowed may, and
   no doubt will, without any danger comply with it, since it can flow
   from no other cause but God only, and the effect of it will not be to
   depress the spirit, but rather to draw sensitive nature upward into the
   spirit, causing it likewise to concur in the exercise of divine love;
   so as that the soul may say with David, Cor meum et caro mea
   exultaverunt in Deum vivum, sensitive nature not only joining with the
   spirit in serving and loving of God, but likewise finding its
   contentment therein, without the least prejudice to the spirit; and the
   way to attain to this solid and secure sensible fervour is by a
   discreet undervaluing and repressing of that which is originally and
   merely sensible.

   16. Now it will not be impertinent on this occasion to take notice of
   another sort of temper in prayer of quite a contrary nature, in which
   the inferior soul seems to have no part at all in the actuations of the
   spirit towards God--yea, is not only inactive but very repugnant unto
   them, finding a great deal of uneasiness and pain in them, so that the
   whole prayer seems to be made by the spirit, the heart or sensitive
   appetite in the mean time finding much bitterness in it, and the
   imagination in a sort refusing to suggest necessary images thereto, any
   further than as the superior soul, by virtue of the dominion it hath
   over it, doth even by mere force constrain it.

   17. There are scarce any souls that give themselves to internal prayer
   but some time or other do find themselves in great indisposition
   thereto, having great obscurities in the mind and great insensibility
   in the affections. So that if imperfect souls be not well instructed
   and prepared, they will be in danger, in case that such contradictions
   in inferior nature continue long, to be dejected, yea, and perhaps
   deterred from pursuing prayer, for they will be apt to think that their
   recollections are to no purpose at all, since, forasmuch as seems to
   them, whatsoever they think or actuate towards God is mere loss of time
   and of no worth at all, and therefore that it would be more profitable
   for them to employ their time some other way.

   18. Yea, some souls there are conducted by Almighty God by no other
   way, but only by such prayer of aridity, finding no sensible
   contentment in any recollections, but, on the contrary, continual pain
   and contradiction, and yet, by a privy grace and courage imprinted
   deeply in the spirit, cease not for all that, but resolutely break
   through all difficulties and continue, the best they can, their
   internal exercises to the great advancement of their spirit. [17]

   19. It will indeed be very hard and morally impossible for any souls
   but such as have naturally a good propension to introversion to
   continue constant to their recollections when aridities, obscurities,
   and desolations continue a long time. For it is this propension alone,
   assisted by divine grace, that holds them to their recollections, and
   that enables them to bear themselves up in all their difficulties and
   temptations.

   20. The causes of this aridity and indisposition to prayer, ordinarily
   speaking (for sometimes God, for the trial of His servants, may, and
   oft doth, send or permit such temptations to fall on them), are
   principally a certain particular natural complexion of some, and
   especially of those who by their corporal temper are most fitted for
   the exercise of sensible affections; for of all others such are most
   obnoxious to these aridities and obscurities, because the Humours and
   spirits of the body, together with the change of weather, &c., have a
   far greater influence upon these sensible affections than upon the mere
   operations either of the understanding or will, which do not so much
   depend upon the body. And therefore, whensoever the said corporal
   disposition comes by any accident to be altered, such affectionate
   souls are apt to fall into these internal distresses, and being in such
   an afflicting disconsolate condition, they are not able to help
   themselves by any discourse to which ordinarily they are indisposed.
   From this ground it is that devout women, who naturally do more abound
   with sensible affections than men, are more subject to be afflicted and
   persecuted with these aridities.

   21. Such discouragements do least appear in Vocal prayer, which befits
   all kinds of spirits and all sorts of tempers, whether they discourse
   internally or not, and whether they can produce internal acts of the
   will upon conceived images or not; for all these at all times, and
   howsoever they are corporally disposed, may make their profit, more or
   less, of vocal prayers.

   22. The prayer of Meditation likewise, in those for whom it is proper,
   is not usually much assaulted with such aridities, except it be
   sometimes towards the end of such prayer, when souls would endeavour to
   draw good affections from a precedent motive considered by the
   understanding; for then the heart may sometimes prove barren or averse
   from such affections. But, however, they that practise meditation may
   find some remedy by surceasing the producing of affections, and may
   either betake themselves to exercise mere acts of the will, which are
   not so affective, or retire themselves to their internal discourse.

   23. The pain and anguish that good souls suffer from these aridities is
   very grievous, being a kind of continual martyrdom; and therefore the
   merit of constancy in prayer, notwithstanding such discouragements in
   nature, is the greater, and souls to whom God shall give such constancy
   will find their exercises both much more secure (however disgustful
   they be), yea, and much more profitable than if they had flowed with
   sensible affections. For all manner of good is gotten by prayer of
   aridity courageously prosecuted; all virtues are exercised in it: it is
   both prayer and most efficacious mortification too.

   24. And indeed the only general effectual remedy against any
   inconveniences that may be caused by such aridities is this generosity
   of resolution not to seek contentment in nature by internal exercises,
   nor to quit them for any dulness, coldness, or aversion whatsoever. Let
   but souls do the best they can or know, and they will find that their
   spiritual progress in the true, solid, and only meritorious love of God
   will not at all be hindered, but rather advanced by such froward
   indispositions of corrupt nature.

   25. And such courage and effectual resolution may well enough consist
   with these discouragements; for the spirit, whose operations do not
   much depend on the corporal disposition, may in the midst of all
   sensible aridities and obscurities perform its functions with great
   efficacy. The intellectual faculty is at all times capable of
   illumination, and the will of receiving grace and strength from God,
   and the light and grace which we receive at such times are far more
   pure and divine than when corporal affections do abound, for then they
   are communicated purely to the spirit; and consequently the operations
   performed in virtue of such light and grace are more noble and
   meritorious, because it is apparent that nature neither does nor can
   mingle her own interests in them, so that they may confidently he
   adjudged to be supernatural and divine. The essential profit of a soul
   consists in the light and love of the spirit; such light and love
   therefore, which are got with so much difficulty and in such a
   struggling of nature, is far more pure, generous, and withal more
   solidly rooted in the soul, than that which is got by the exercise of
   sensible affections; because all the while there is a continual combat
   against self-love, and all the most secret, subtle, and deeply-hidden
   snares of it; so that all virtues becoming thus rooted in the depth of
   the spirit, and having been produced by the means and in the midst of
   the sharpest temptations there is less fear that they will be
   extinguished by other following trials.

   26. Now at the first, to the end to attain unto this most necessary
   courageousness of mind, such souls may do well to help themselves
   during their aridities with the best motives and most efficacious
   affections that they can furnish themselves withal, either out of their
   own invention or by collection out of books, as likewise frequently to
   urge and even force themselves to the love of God by such ejaculatory
   prayers and desires as these: O my God, when shall I love Thee as Thou
   deservest? When shall I love as I am loved by Thee? O, that I were
   freed from myself, that I may only love Thee! Excita potentiam Tuam et
   veni; veni, Domine, et noli tardare. Exurgat Deus et dissipentur
   inimici, ejus, &c.

   27. Such affections as these let a devout soul exercise in her
   recollections likewise the best she can (in case she cannot see how
   other ways to do better), although without any gust or sensible
   contentment, and God will not fail to accept and plentifully reward her
   good will, and thereby promote her in such manner as He best knows. She
   may be sure that since He has given her the generous courage to serve
   Him without present wages, He will at least in the next life multiply
   rewards upon her infinitely above her expectation, and she ought to
   account it a proof of His especial love and esteem of her that He has
   selected her to be a martyr of love, and a soldier to whose courage He
   commits the most difficult and hazardous employments.

   28. In case that internal distresses in prayer be so violent, that the
   soul, to her seeming, can only keep herself in an outward posture of
   prayer; all that she thinks or does appearing to her so utterly void of
   all spirit of devotion, love, and reverence to God that she may rather
   suspect it to be injurious to Him; let her be patient and abstain from
   disquieting her mind with murmuring complaints, and by all means let
   her be sure not to betake herself to consolation in creatures or
   recreative diversions in times appointed for recollection, and then all
   will be very well. God will require no more of her than she is well
   able to do, and He knows that it is not in her power always to subdue
   nature, yet she may and must always withdraw her consent from its
   sinful suggestions, and doing so, there will be no danger; therefore
   for what she cannot do let her be humbled and resigned, and such humble
   resignation will prove a very efficacious prayer.

   29. Now it is not to be supposed that internal prayer exercised by
   imperfect souls during aridities, through the advantage of a natural
   propension, is a truly pure and spiritual prayer; because as yet their
   exercise is indeed in sense, yet it is in the nobler and supreme part
   of sensuality tending much toward the spirit, whereby they in that case
   do enjoy an internal light more clear and pure than whilst they
   exercise with flowing affections, insomuch as their operations are then
   abstracted from grosser sensuality, and the more strong that their
   propension to introversion is, the more easily and quickly do they
   raise themselves to that clear superior region of light; and the reason
   is because such a propension and aptitude to internal ways draws the
   persons endowed with it more and more deeply towards the spirit, in the
   perfect operations whereof consists the consummation of an internal
   life.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [17] [This was the case with Father Baker's disciple, Dame Gertrude
   More; of whom see the Life of Father Baker, p. 50.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VI.

   S:S: 1, 2. A second discouragement in prayer opposite to perseverance,
   to wit, Distractions.

   S: 3. Distractions are a necessary effect of original sin.

   S:S: 4, 5. Distractions about objects to which we bear an inordinate
   affection are most harmful.

   S: 6. A remedy against them.

   S:S: 7, 8, 9. Remedies against all inconveniences that may come from
   distractions.

   S: 10. Difference between the distractions of perfect and imperfect
   souls.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13. A third condition necessary to true internal affective
   prayer, viz. that it must come from divine inspirations.

   S: 14. An exhortation to constancy in prayer.

   1. The second discouraging temptation opposite to the second quality
   requisite in prayer (to wit, perseverance), by which well-minded souls
   are oft much afflicted in their recollections, and also exposed to
   grievous scrupulosities, is Distraction in prayer, caused by images
   which oft, against their wills, press into their imaginations. These
   draw the mind from contemplating God, and, consequently, the affections
   from embracing Him by love at such times when the soul desires and
   intends to contemplate and love Him.

   2. I do not, therefore, here under the term of distractions comprehend
   all manner of interruptions from a direct actual tendence to God (for
   such, sometimes, considering the infirmity of our nature, may be
   necessary to the end that by a discreet relaxation, the head being
   refreshed, we may be enabled afterwards to produce more efficacious
   affections; and, therefore, those authors are too indiscreetly rigorous
   who oblige souls not yet perfect to a continual recollected attention
   to the divine presence, not considering the corporal infirmity and
   incapacity of their disciples' spirits, especially in these days). The
   distractions, therefore, here intended to be treated of are such as are
   involuntary, and which happen at times when souls do apply themselves
   either to vocal or mental prayer.

   3. Now it is an effect of original sin (much increased also by actual)
   that souls are generally, some more some less, subject to this
   deordination, because by sin that due subordination of the sensitive
   faculties (the imagination, memory, and appetite) to the superior soul
   is impaired, so that the reason has not that absolute dominion over
   them that it had in innocence; but they often wander towards objects
   not prescribed by reason, yea, and sometimes seduce and even compel
   reason itself to comply with their disorders. Add hereunto, that the
   body being gross and lumpish cannot long endure that the soul, its
   companion, should remain in its proper exercise by which it becomes as
   it were a stranger to the body, contradicting its motions and desires;
   and, therefore, till the soul, by practice of spiritual operations, be
   enabled at pleasure to command the inferior faculties or to abstract
   itself from the images suggested by them; the said faculties do strive
   to depress the spirit and to call it down to attend to the necessities
   and desires of sensitive nature; yea, even in the most perfect the soul
   will not be able to continue long in the height of its elevation.

   4. As for these distractions which, generally speaking, are hurtful and
   to be avoided (among which, notwithstanding, I need not reckon in this
   place such as are simply sinful, being about unlawful objects), the
   most harmful to our spiritual progress are those which are about
   objects to which we cleave with affection, because by such distracting
   thoughts not only the mind is diverted from God, but the heart also
   inordinately carried to creatures.

   5. For, as for thoughts merely about vain objects, to which we have
   little or no affection, and which proceed wholly from the instability
   of the imagination, imperfect souls ought not to be discouraged with
   them, although they should be never so importunate during their
   recollections, since the most abstracted liver must be content now and
   then to suffer them.

   6. And the most powerful remedy to prevent them is, with as much
   prudence and dexterity as one can, to cut off the occasions of
   entertaining such images as do most frequently and pertinaciously recur
   to the mind in prayer. And more particularly for those images to whose
   objects the soul cleaves by inordinate affection; the practice of
   abstraction and voluntary disengagement from unnecessary business is
   requisite, and a restraining of our affections from wandering abroad
   and fixing themselves upon any external objects; for certain it is,
   that if by the exercise of mortification and prayer we could restrain
   our affections from creatures and fix them on God only, we should
   scarce ever have cause to complain of distractions, for we see that we
   can easily and constantly fix our thoughts on such objects as we love;
   so that perseverance in prayer and mortification being the most assured
   instruments to increase divine love and diminish inordinate love to
   ourselves and creatures, consequently they are the most sure remedies
   against distractions.

   7. But if after all due care had they do still persist, the most
   effectual expedients to hinder any considerable inconveniences from
   such distractions are: 1. Sometimes to use a discreet and reasonable
   industry in contradicting and expelling them, yet forbearing an
   over-violent anxious resistance of them, out of an opinion that by such
   violence they may be extinguished, whereas, on the contrary, such an
   eagerness of contending with them by the inflaming of the spirits makes
   those images more active and full of motion, and rather multiplies than
   diminishes them; and, however, it imprints them deeper in the
   imagination. Let a well-minded soul rather endeavour, according to the
   expression of the author of the Cloud, to look over their shoulders, as
   if she looked after some other object that stood beyond them and above
   them, which is God. 2. Let her (as hath been said) fix in her mind and
   superior will a strong resolution, notwithstanding the said
   distractions, yea, in the midst and press of them, not to relinquish
   prayer, but to persevere in it to the best of her power and skill. 3.
   Let the well-minded soul execute this resolution with all possible
   quietness, stillness, and patience, not troubling herself with any
   fears or scrupulosity, as if they came from her own fault, whereas
   ordinarily they are increased, at least, by the distemper of the body,
   or the natural instability of the imagination. 4. Sometimes it may be
   requisite for her (not being able, to her own satisfaction, to pursue
   her appointed exercise) to change it into acts of patience and quiet
   resignation, to suffer without murmuring such an affliction and
   visitation from God's hands; and so doing, she will, perhaps, more
   advance herself in pure spiritual prayer than if she had no such
   distractions at all; for besides that such prayer being made with an
   actual contradiction to the inclinations of nature, has in it the
   virtue of a most purifying mortification. Also, a perseverance in this
   practice will bring her to that pure prayer of the will without any
   perceivable help or concurrence of the understanding, in which the will
   is firmly united to God, whilst the understanding is in no such union,
   yea, when both it and the imagination are never so extravagant and
   wandering.

   8. And surely a matter of great comfort it is to a soul (and ought so
   to be esteemed) that in her will (which is her principal faculty, and,
   indeed, all in all) she may be united to God in the midst of all
   distractions, temptations, and desolations, &c., and that being so
   united, she will be so far from receiving any harm by them that she
   will, by their means, increase in grace, so that though she do not
   receive any extraordinary illuminations nor any satisfaction to her
   natural will by such distracted prayers, yet doth she get that for
   which such illuminations and gusts are given, to wit, a privy but
   effectual grace to adhere unto God and to resign herself to Him in all
   His providences and permissions concerning her; and grace gotten by
   such an afflicting way of abnegation is far more secure and merits more
   at God's hands, than if it had come by lightsome and pleasing
   consolations; since this is a way by which corrupt nature is
   transcended, self-love contradicted and subdued, even when it assaults
   the soul most subtlely and dangerously, to wit, by pretending that all
   solicitudes and anxious discouragements, caused by distractions, do
   flow from divine love and from a care of the soul's progress in
   spirituality. Lastly, this is a way by which charity and all divine
   virtues are deeply rooted in the spirit, being produced and established
   there by the same means that the devil uses to hinder the production of
   them in negligent and tepid souls, or to destroy them when they have
   been in some measure produced.

   9. As for more particular advices, expedients, and sleights to be made
   use of in special cases and circumstances, none can teach but God only,
   who by means of experience and perseverance in prayer will undoubtedly
   give unto a soul light and grace sufficient.

   10. To conclude, therefore, this point, this difference may be observed
   between distractions in perfect souls from the same in the imperfect,
   viz. that in perfect souls distractions proceed only from some
   unwilling distemper in the cognoscitive faculties, but in the imperfect
   they are rather from some degree of inordinate affection to the objects
   of the distractions; and, therefore, a well-advanced soul hath little
   difficulty in putting them away as soon as she reflects upon them, for
   without contending with them she can presently unite herself with her
   superior will to God, even whilst her knowing powers are busy about
   impertinent objects; whereas imperfect souls in the inferior degrees of
   prayer, having as yet an express and perceptible use of the
   understanding and imagination, cannot but receive some prejudice by
   distractions, inasmuch as those faculties cannot at the same time be
   employed upon different objects that have no subordination or relation
   to one another.

   11. There remains a third condition or quality which I said was
   necessary to true internal affective prayer, to wit, the divine
   inspiration, from which if it do not proceed, it is of little efficacy
   or merit. Now though in the general division of internal prayer I
   seemed to appropriate the title of infused prayer to the prayer of
   perfect contemplation, the meaning thereof was, that such prayer is
   merely infused, the soul by any deliberate preparation or election not
   disposing herself thereto; whereas in the inferior degrees there is
   necessary both a precedent and concomitant industry in the soul to make
   choice of matter for prayer, and to force herself to produce affections
   corresponding to the said matter, by reason that as yet God's Holy
   Spirit is not so abounding and operative in the soul as to impel her to
   pray, or rather breathing forth prayers in and by her. But in all cases
   that is most true which [104]St. Bernard saith, Tepida est oratio, quam
   non prevenit inspiratio; that is, that prayer is a tepid prayer which
   is not prevented by divine inspiration; and St. Augustine, Bene orare
   Deum, gratia spiritalis est; that is, it is a special grace of God's
   Holy Spirit to be able to pray aright.

   12. Now the ground of the necessity of a divine inspiration hereto is
   expressed in that saying of St. Paul (Quid oremus sicut oportet
   nescimus, &c.), We know not how to pray as we ought, and therefore the
   Spirit of God helps our infirmity, yea, saith he, the Spirit itself
   makes requests in us and for us, and this oft with groans which cannot
   be expressed, and which the soul itself cannot conceive. It is this
   inspiration only which gives a supernaturality to our prayers, and
   makes them fit to be heard and granted by God.

   13. But of this subject much hath already been said, and more will
   follow when we treat of the several degrees of prayer (especially the
   perfect prayer of aspirations), where we shall show how these
   inspirations are attempered according to the natural good propensions
   of souls; so that those which are naturally inclined to introversion
   are usually moved by God to seek Him by pure spiritual operations,
   without images or motives, yet this by degrees, according to the state
   of the soul; where also I will show how necessary liberty of spirit and
   a freedom from nice methods and rules of prayer are to dispose the soul
   for these divine inspirations, and therefore I will forbear any further
   enlarging of myself on this point in this place.

   14. Now a due consideration of these excellencies and most heavenly
   effects of internal affective prayer ought to give us a suitable esteem
   and valve of it above any other employments whatsoever. An experience
   hereof it was that made an ancient hermit, called Jacob (in Theodoret.
   de Vit. PP.), resolutely to persist in refusing to interrupt his
   appointed prayer, or to delay the time of it for any other business or
   civilities in visits whatsoever. He commanded all to depart when the
   hour was come, saying, I came not to this solitude to benefit other
   men's souls, but to purify mine own by prayer.'
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER VII.

   S: 1. Internal affective prayer (of contemplation) hath always been
   entertained at first with jealousy and rigour.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4. An illustrious example in the person of the late R.
   Father Baltazar Alvarez, of the Society of Jesus.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. An account required and
   given by him to his general, touching his prayer of contemplation. The
   order and manner of God's guidance of him thereto and therein: and the
   excellency of that prayer declared.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29. The
   substance of a discourse written by him in answer to seven objections
   made against internal prayer of contemplation.

   S: 30. The success of this tempest.

   1. It is so far from being a just prejudice against this most excellent
   of God's gifts (internal prayer of the will), that it is rather a proof
   of the more than ordinary eminency of it, that it has always found
   some, even among the learned, and ofttimes among such as have been the
   most strict and severe about religious observances, that have and do
   oppose it. God forbid that this should always be imputed either to
   malice, envy, &c., but rather to want of experience in the mysterious
   ways by which the Spirit of God ofttimes conducts His special servants.
   It is well known what calumnies and persecutions Suso, [105]St. Teresa,
   [106]St. John of the Cross, &c. found when God enlightened them and
   moved them to communicate to the world this heavenly light, all which
   they accepted as a certain proof that it came from God, that it was
   beneficial to souls, and therefore odious to the Devil; for so have all
   such things been ever at the first entertained.

   2. But among all the late masters of pure spiritual contemplative
   prayer, there is none deserves more our esteem, nor is more proper to
   be produced in this place, than the late R. F. Baltazar Alvarez, of the
   Society of Jesus, well known unto and most highly esteemed by [107]St.
   Teresa (who was much assisted and comforted by him during her troubles
   and difficulties). The special benefit that may be reaped from his
   story is, that by occasion of his trial and examination about his
   prayer all the suspicions and allegations against it are well cleared,
   and the whole substance of this treatise worthily confirmed and
   asserted.

   3. This venerable person, after he had with great diligence spent about
   fifteen years in meditation and the spiritual exercises (peculiar to
   his order), and yet received but little profit to his spirit by them,
   being, on the contrary, tormented with extreme doubtfulness and
   unsatisfaction, was at last guided powerfully, by God's Holy Spirit, to
   quit meditation and to betake himself to a serious practice of prayer
   immediately in the will, by corresponding to which divine motion he
   presently received abundance of light, and a perfect remedy against all
   his anguishes and perplexities.

   4. But his internal troubles ceasing, outward difficulties began; for
   others of his brethren and companions perceiving that he walked in ways
   unknown to them, earnestly required an examination of this new spirit,
   insomuch as that out of Spain these complaints came to the ears of
   their then General, the most R. F. Everardus Mercurian, resident at
   Rome; by order from whom his study was sealed up and afterwards
   searched by learned fathers thereto appointed, and all his papers
   examined, which, affording no matter of just accusation at all, but, on
   the contrary, of great edification, a second command comes from the
   General to him to give a full account of the order and manner of his
   prayer.

   5. This command obliged him to make a free and ingenuous apology for
   himself, the which, because it is most pertinent and conformable to the
   spirit of these instructions, and besides is not common in many men's
   hands, I will here set down the substance of as it is related with most
   commendable candour and ingenuity by F. Ludovicus de Puente, of the
   same society, his scholar, who wrote his life.

   6. Now, in his said Apology, he freely and humbly declares That near
   sixteen years he had laboured like one that tills the ground without
   reaping any fruit, that his heart was much strained with grief,
   observing that he wanted the talents for which he saw others esteemed,
   and particularly that he was much troubled that he had not space enough
   allowed him for prayer. But this temptation he overcame, resolving to
   employ no more time in prayer than holy obedience permitted, and
   rejecting that foolish ambition of excelling therein, or of pretending
   to divine favour, which others better deserving enjoyed.
   Notwithstanding, he still found his defects to multiply, and rather to
   disquiet than humble him; yea, they made him in an incapacity to comply
   with the internal counsels and invitations of God; moreover, that by
   reason of this unquietness the defects of others also under his
   government did much increase his distemper, so that he judged it a
   point of right government to make his subjects perform all things (like
   himself) with a melancholy dejectedness of mind.

   7. That at the end of fourteen years he found himself in a practice of
   prayer, by which he placed himself in God's presence as a beggar,
   saying little, but only expecting an alms; but by reason that he could
   not keep his mind fixed on God, but did overmuch reflect upon himself,
   his troubles, dejection, and utter despair of approaching to perfection
   increased, since God had showed him no marks of His favour, which it
   seems he expected, but (as he confesses) very foolishly, since his
   coming to God with such an expectation was a greater fault than his
   former deserting Him; yea, hereby he was brought to that extreme
   confusion, that for mere shame he durst not for a good space in prayer
   say anything to God at all, but only that He would punish, forgive, and
   assist him.

   8. But when sixteen years were passed he found his heart on the sudden
   unexpectedly quite changed and dilated, all his disquietness vanished,
   and his soul, freed from all created things, being filled with an
   astonishing joy, like that of those which say, "Lord, when we see Thee,
   we have seen all good, and are entirely satiated." Here he found
   himself in a congregation of persons destined to beatitude, the way
   whereto seemed plain and easy; now he received a spiritual discretion
   to sever between the precious and the vile; new notions and
   intelligence of verities were given him, which fed his soul with joy
   and peace; yet such illuminations, at the first, were somewhat rare,
   but at the time of the writing of this Apology they were become much
   more frequent.

   9. Instead of that anxiety that he had formerly, because his ambitious
   desire of being eminent was not satisfied, now he was content to live
   under the cross--now he did so humble himself under all that he was in
   confusion to appear before any. Notwithstanding, though he honoured all
   men, yet he found that they were not at all needful to him, as formerly
   they seemed to be, but that it was both better and easier for him to
   converse with God only.

   10. Thenceforward he perceived that God had given him an internal light
   for the ordering both of himself and others under him, even in the
   smallest matters; and whereas solicitudes in government, &c., did
   formerly disquiet and oppress his spirit, now he found that businesses
   were far better discharged by casting his care on God, and putting them
   out of his thoughts till the time came that he was to execute his duty;
   so that in the midst of a throng of cares he lived without care. Now he
   was not, as formerly, troubled for that he had not time sufficient for
   prayer, because he found that God gives more in one hour to mortified
   resigned souls than to others in many days, and he found more profit to
   his spirit by a faithful discharge of employments imposed by God than
   in vacancy and reading spiritual books of his own election.

   11. A sight of his defects now does him good, by humbling him and
   making him distrustful of himself and confident in God, knowing that no
   defects not knowingly and deliberately persisted in do hinder God's
   counsels and designs for our perfection; and as for the defects of
   those under his government, he found it a great folly for him to
   disquiet himself about them, and that his former desire of making them
   sad and melancholy was an effect of his own impatience.

   12. His prayer now was to place himself in God's presence, both
   inwardly and outwardly presented to him, and to rejoice with Him
   permanently and habitually. Now he understood the difference between
   imperfect and perfect souls on the point of enjoying the divine
   presence, expressed by [108]St. Thomas (22 q. 24, a. 9 ad 3, et opusc.
   63); and he perceived that those were blind that seek God with anxiety
   of mind, and call upon Him as if He were absent; whereas, being already
   His temples, in which His divine, majesty rests, they ought to enjoy
   Him actually and internally present in them. Sometimes in his prayer he
   pondered awhile on some text of Scripture, according to the
   inspirations and lights then given him; sometimes he remained in
   cessation and silence before God, which manner of prayer he accounted a
   great treasure; for then his heart, his desires, his secret intentions,
   his knowledge, and all his powers spake, and God understood their mute
   language, and with one aspect could expel his defects, kindle his
   desires, and give him wings to mount spiritually unto Him. Now he took
   comfort in nothing but in suffering contentedly the will of God to be
   performed in all things, which was as welcome to him in aridities as
   consolations, being unwilling to know more than God freely discovered
   unto him, or to make a more speedy progress, or by any other ways than
   such as God Himself prescribed unto him. If his heart, out of its
   natural infirmity, did at any time groan under his present burden, his
   answer thereto would be: "Is not that good which God wills to be, and
   will it not always incessantly remain so?" or, "Will God cease to
   perform His own will because thou dost not judge it to be for thy
   good?" In conclusion, his present established comfort was to see
   himself in God's presence to be a sufferer, and to be treated according
   to His divine pleasure.

   13. If, sometimes leaving this quiet prayer to which God had brought
   him, he offered to apply himself to his former exercises of meditation,
   he found that God gave him an internal reprehension and restraint. For
   his greater assurance, therefore, he searched mystic authors, St.
   Dionysius Areopagita (de Myst. Theol. c. 1), St. Augustine (Epistol.
   119), St. Gregory (Mor. lib. 30, 26, &c.), [109]St. Bernard (in Cant.
   Serm. 55, &c.), out of which he satisfied himself, that as rest is the
   end of motion, and a quiet habitation the end of a laborious building,
   so this peaceful prayer and quiet enjoying of God in spirit was the end
   of the imperfect busy prayer of meditation, and therefore that all
   internal discoursing with the understanding was to cease whensoever God
   enabled souls to actuate purely by the will; and that to do otherwise
   would be as if one should be always preparing somewhat to eat, and yet
   afterwards refuse to taste that which is prepared. By this divine
   prayer of the will, the Holy Spirit of wisdom, with all the
   excellencies of it described in the Book of Wisdom (cap. viii.), is
   obtained, and with it perfect liberty.

   14. In consequence hereto he proceeds by reasons to demonstrate the
   supereminent excellency of this reposeful prayer of the will, as: 1.
   That though in it there is no reasoning of the mind, yet the soul,
   silently presenting herself before God with a firm faith that her
   desires are manifest to Him, doth more than equivalently tell God her
   desires, and withal exercises all virtues, humbling herself before Him,
   loving Him only, and believing that leaving her own ways and constantly
   holding to God's, all good will proceed from thence to her; 2. that in
   this prayer a soul hath far more sublime and worthy notion of God; 3.
   that this still and quiet prayer may be far more prolixly and
   perseverantly practised than the tiring prayer of meditation, (yea, it
   may come to be continual and without interruption); 4. that all the
   good effects of meditation, as humility, obedience, &c., are far more
   efficaciously and perfectly produced by this prayer than by that which
   is joined with inward seasonings; 5. true indeed it is that the
   exercises instituted by St. Ignatius were more proper generally for
   souls than this, yet that this ought to be esteemed proper for those
   whom God had called and prepared to it, and that this was St.
   Ignatius's own practice, who, though in his less perfect state he
   purified the imperfect exercises instituted by him, yet afterwards he
   was exalted to this sublime prayer, by which he came to suffer divine
   things. That, therefore, as none ought to intrude into the exercise of
   this pure prayer till God has called and fitted them for it, so being
   called, none ought to be forbidden it (as Osanna in his alphabet
   teacheth); and that whosoever forbiddeth such shall give a strict
   account to God for so great a fault, insomuch, as a certain spiritual
   writer saith, that God will shorten the lives of those superiors who
   shall presume to discourage and affright any souls from these internal
   ways, except they desist from such an attempt.'

   15. This is the sum of the account which the most venerable F. Baltazar
   Alvarez, after a retirement of fifteen days, with a most humble
   confession of his own defects and misery, and a magnifying of God's
   liberal goodness extended towards him, gave unto his General.

   16. Now, besides this account, he wrote likewise a short discourse, in
   which he did more fully treat of the nature of this prayer of rest and
   silence, and gave a particular answer to several objections which
   certain of his brethren had made and dispersed against the said prayer.
   The sum of which objections, with his answers to them, I will here
   adjoin.

   17. The first objection was, that one who exerciseth this prayer, which
   admitteth neither of discoursive meditation nor any such like use of
   the understanding, seems to spend his time unprofitably in doing
   nothing, which might far better be bestowed in external exercises of
   virtues.

   18. The answer hereto is, that though the understanding be in a sort
   suspended from exercising its activity, yet the soul is far from being
   idle; on the contrary, she performs that which [110]St. Bernard calls
   the business of all businesses; for therein the stream of holy
   affections doth freely flow by loving, admiring, adoring,
   congratulating, resigning, and offering the soul to God contemplated
   with the eye of faith, &c., and all this sometimes in a few words,
   sometimes in silence. In a word, the soul behaves herself according to
   the variety of affections that the unction of the Holy Spirit, who is
   the principal master herein, doth teach and move her to, according to
   that of St. Dionysius Areopagita to Timotheus, Converte te ad radium,
   &c.,--Turn thyself to the beam of divine light.' From hence that
   admirable union doth proceed which the same Saint calls The union of
   the unknown with the unknown,' which is the supreme height of mystical
   theology, and which, without experience of it, cannot be conceived by
   any.

   19. The second objection is, that to leave meditation, out of an
   expectation of divine inspirations or revelations, seems to be a
   tempting of God and a favouring of the error of the heretics called
   Illuminates.

   20. The answer is, that this prayer, exercised merely by holy
   affections without mental discoursings, cannot be practised but by such
   as have a long time been exercised in the inferior degree of
   discoursive prayer, except it be when God presents souls
   extraordinarily by a special invitation and enablement; and those,
   likewise, that from meditation do ascend to this quiet prayer, do it by
   the guidance of a supernatural light, and being in it, they exercise
   themselves therein not by desiring or expecting revelations, but by
   acknowledging the divine presence in the soul and producing the
   foresaid holy affections to Him. Neither is here any affinity with the
   doings of the Illuminates, who, without any call from God, without any
   preparation, did arrogantly presume to pray as they did, remaining in a
   distracted idleness and misspending the time in expectation of
   extraordinary visits, without any good effect at all toward the
   reformation of their inordinate affections; whereas, if an immortified
   soul should presume to betake herself to this prayer, she will be
   forced to quit it; for none can appear with a secure peacefulness
   before God's presence that doth deliberately resist His Spirit, which
   is the spirit of purity, sanctity, humiliation, and conformity to the
   Divine Will.

   21. In the third place, it is objected that there is no way to discern
   when one undertakes this prayer by a divine inspiration, and when this
   is done out of presumption and a desire to enjoy spiritual gifts, which
   nourish self-love.

   22. It is answered that this will evidently enough be known by the
   effects, as a tree by its fruits. Now the effects of this prayer, when
   it is practised upon a divine call, are a softness and flexibility of
   the heart to the Divine Will; a resigned acceptation of all things from
   His hand; a confidence of obtaining all good from Him upon whom the
   soul hath entirely bestowed herself; an imitation of the pattern of all
   perfection, our Lord Jesus; a renouncing of self-will, &c. Now surely
   that prayer which teaches these things is doubtless from God.

   23. But, fourthly, it is replied that those which practise this kind of
   prayer are self-opinioned, adhering to their own ways, and, out of a
   presumptuous conceit of being spiritual, despise others, and refuse to
   submit themselves to the judgment of superiors.

   24. The answer is, that such defects and miscarriages as these are not
   to be imputed to the prayer itself (which teaches quite the contrary),
   but to the imperfections and frailty of those that do not practise it
   as they ought; and therefore this is not a ground sufficient to condemn
   the prayer itself, no more than meditation ought to be condemned
   because the like or greater faults are committed by some that practise
   it, who are more obnoxious to a vain esteem of themselves upon occasion
   of some curious inventions found out by their internal reasonings
   therein. Yea, the sacraments we see are abused, but yet not, therefore,
   forbidden; as for superiors, none of them, except it be sometimes for a
   trial, ought to prohibit their subjects from praying according as God,
   by His inspiration, directs them; and if they shall absolutely prohibit
   this, they must expect that God will require an account of them;
   however, in such a case it would be a fault in subjects to disobey
   them, but yet, till such a prohibition do issue forth, the subjects
   surely may lawfully, yea ought to, follow the internal directions of
   God. Neither is it presumption in them, if by the advantage of
   experience they shall think themselves capable of judging of such
   matters better than those that have no experience at all in them; nor
   is it pride to acknowledge the gifts given us of God, as the apostle
   saith.

   25. Fifthly, it is objected that some are so wholly given up to this
   fashion of prayer, that they are always in a kind of ecstasy, being so
   delighted with the gusts which they find in it, that they quite forget
   their obligations of charity, obedience, and exercise of virtues, from
   which they retire, to the end that they may immerse themselves in a
   prayer that affords them no truths which may profitably be communicated
   to their neighbours. Now all this is directly contrary to the institute
   of St. Ignatius; moreover, by this kind of prayer, many of the
   practisers of it become subject to divers corporal infirmities, which
   render them incapable to comply with the obligations of their state of
   life.

   26. The answer is, that it is no wonder if some defects be found in
   these persons, since none are entirely free; but, however, the said
   defects are not to be imputed to the prayer, but to undue use of it;
   for contemplation itself doth even urge souls to the exercise of
   charity whensoever necessity and duty requires it (not otherwise).
   Hence is that saying of St. Augustine (lib. 19, de Civit. D. c. 19),
   Otium sanctuna querit charitas veritatis, &c.,--Love of verity seeketh
   a holy vacancy.' Necessity of charity undertaketh due employments, the
   which charge, if it be not imposed, one ought to remain in the fruition
   and contemplation of verity, and agreeable hereto is the doctrine of
   St. Gregory (in cap. vii. Job) and [111]St. Bernard (Ser. 57 in Cant.).
   Moreover, a soul by meditation may perhaps find out finer conceits; but
   the will is more enriched with virtues by this prayer. Now it is virtue
   alone that renders a soul acceptable to God, and as for corporal
   infirmities, they proceed only from an indiscreet use of this prayer;
   for otherwise it being a prayer of stillness and repose, is far less
   dangerous to the head and health than the laborious imaginative
   exercise of meditation, and hence it is that those holy persons that
   practised it were enabled much longer to continue in it.

   27. A sixth objection was that this manner of prayer doth draw souls so
   wholly to itself, that all devotion to Saints and all praying for
   common or particular necessities become too much neglected and
   forgotten.

   28. It is answered that since such vocal prayers and voluntary
   exercises are only means to bring souls to perfect prayer of quietness,
   according to [112]St. Thomas's doctrine (22 q. 83, a. 13) they ought to
   cease when the soul finds herself full of fervent affections; neither
   is this any proof of disesteem of such means, but a right understanding
   and use of them. It is said of St. Ignatius that by long practice of
   vocal prayer, &c., he was brought to such inward familiarity with God,
   that he could not proceed in the saying of his office by reason of the
   copious communication of ardent affections and graces that God bestowed
   on him, insomuch as his companions were forced to obtain for him a
   dispensation from that obligation, because the performance of his
   office took up almost the whole day, so abundant were the divine
   visitations in it towards him. Neither are we to think that a soul by
   following the divine conduct in pure prayer doth thereby omit due
   petitions for either common or particular necessities; on the contrary,
   since those necessities are known to God, who sees the hearts of His
   servants that ardently desire a supply to them, but yet do not busy
   themselves much in making express prayers for them, because they would
   rather employ their affections in such prayer as they know is more
   acceptable to God,--by such a not express asking, they do privily and
   most efficaciously ask and obtain the said petitions; and as for
   devotions to Saints, they account it to be their chiefest honour that
   God should be most honoured.

   29. The seventh and last objection was the same that the author had
   before answered in his account to his General, viz. that this fashion
   of prayer calls souls from the spiritual exercises instituted by St.
   Ignatius, the answer to which need not be repeated. But whereas it was
   added that diversity of prayer might cause factions in the society, it
   was answered that the perfect may lawfully practise ways not common to
   the imperfect, without any fear of divisions or any intention of
   contradicting or despising of others.

   30. This is the sum both of the account given by the V. R. Father
   Baltazar Alvarez to his General touching his prayer, as likewise of his
   answers to the objections made unto it, and the success of the tempest
   raised against him was, as to his own person, very prosperous and
   happy; for after a most strict examination his innocence and truth were
   asserted by his writings, and his most humble patience manifested in
   his whole behaviour. Moreover, the General conceived so great an esteem
   of him that he preferred him to two offices successively, of the
   greatest dignity and trust that the society then had in Spain.
   Notwithstanding, the same General (as the author of the Life, p. 493,
   saith), not approving that such a manner of prayer should so commonly
   be spread, did therefore restrain and moderate such a generality; and
   in his letters to the Provincial (p. 508) required superiors that they
   should direct and assist their religious so that they might highly
   esteem, and in their practice follow, the manner of prayer most
   conformable to their institute, prescribed in their exercises.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

THE SECOND SECTION OF THE THIRD TREATISE.

    OF THE FIRST DEGREE OF INTERNAL PRAYER, VIZ. MEDITATION.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1, 2. 3. Several degrees and stations in an internal life; as the
   three ways, Purgative, Illuminative, and Unitive.

   S:S: 4, 5. They are best distinguished according to the three degrees
   of internal prayer.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. The grounds of the several
   degrees of prayer.

   S:S: 16, 17. How God is represented in the said degrees.

   S:S: 18, 19. How the operations of the soul grow more and more pure.

   S:S: 20, 21. The degrees of prayer are not so diverse but that
   sometimes they may be intermixed.

   S:S: 22, 23, 24. In what sense the exercises of an active life (to wit,
   meditation) are divided into three ways also, purgative, illuminative,
   unitive.

   1. It is generally the custom of those that write treatises of
   spiritual doctrine to begin with a division of the several stations or
   ascents observed in the duties and exercises thereof, but such a
   division I have conceived most proper to be reserved to this place; and
   the reason is, because though in a spiritual progress there be an
   ascent in the practice of all duties universally of a spiritual life,
   as well of mortification as prayer, notwithstanding the true judgment
   of a progress is to be made with reference principally to prayer,
   according to the increase in the purity and spirituality whereof so is
   the person to be esteemed to have made a proportionable progress in all
   other duties and virtues disposing to contemplation and perfection.

   2. Now several mystic authors, according to the several notions that
   they had both of the end of a spiritual life and means conducing
   thereto, have by several terms made the division of its degrees. The
   most ancient division is into three states: 1. of beginners; 2. of
   proficients; 3. of such as are perfect. Yet withal they do not signify
   by what distinctive marks each of these states are separated from the
   others; but generally, in latter times, the whole course of a spiritual
   life is divided: 1. into the Purgative way, in which all sinful defects
   are purged out of the soul; 2. the Illuminative way, by which divine
   virtues and graces are introduced; 3. the Unitive way, by which a soul
   attains unto the end of all other exercises, to wit, an union with God
   in spirit by perfect charity.

   3. Besides these many other divisions may be found, as of F. Benet
   Canfield, who, making the Divine Will (that is, God Himself) the sole
   object of all our exercises, doth by a division of the said Will into:
   1. external; 2. internal; 3. essential or supereminent Will, virtually
   divide all spiritual exercises into such as are proper and conformable
   to these three notions of one and the same Will. Again, others divide
   all exercises into: 1. active; 2. contemplative, &c.; and it is of no
   importance which of these divisions is made use of so they be rightly
   understood.

   4. But since, as hath been said, the degrees of perfection generally
   understood as relating to all the duties of an internal life are best
   conceived and measured by the degrees of internal prayer, which,
   indeed, are of a different nature one from the other, and therefore are
   not so properly called degrees, as several states of prayer (which is
   not so in mortification or the exercise of virtues, because the perfect
   do the same actions, though in a more perfect degree than the
   imperfect); hence it is that R. F. Constantine Barbanson, the most
   learned and experienced author of the book called Secrets Sentiers de
   l'Amour Divin, divides the whole progress of a spiritual contemplative
   life according to the progress of prayer, which (saith he) hath these
   degrees: 1. The exercises of the understanding in meditation. 2. The
   exercises of the will and affections without meditation (which at the
   first are very imperfect). 3. Afterward a soul comes to an experimental
   perception of the divine presence in her. 4 Then follows the great
   desolation. 5. This being past, there succeeds a sublime manifestation
   of God in the summity of the spirit. 6. From thence, after many
   interchangeable risings and fallings (which are found likewise in all
   the degrees), the soul enters into the divine yet most secret ways of
   perfection.

   5. Now this order of his in gross (as being most natural and suitable
   both to reason and experience) my purpose is to follow, yet so as to
   collect the four last degrees into one, so that I shall only
   distinguish three degrees of prayer, to wit: 1. Discoursive prayer or
   meditation. 2. The prayer of forced immediate acts or affections of the
   will, without discourse preparatory thereto. 3. The prayer of pure
   active contemplation or aspirations, as it were naturally and without
   any force flowing from the soul, powerfully and immediately directed
   and moved by the Holy Spirit. Now this third degree, to which the
   prayer belonging is, indeed, truly the prayer of contemplation, beyond
   which there is no state of prayer, may very conveniently include all
   the four degrees mentioned by Barbanson, and so nicely distinguished by
   him; rather out of a particular experience of the effects passing in
   his own soul, which, perhaps, are not the same in all (for God works
   according to His own good pleasure in the souls of His perfect
   servants, and not according to any methods that man can conceive or
   express).

   6. These, therefore, being the three degrees of internal prayer (which
   do most properly answer to the commonly assigned ways of spirituality,
   the purgative, illuminative, and unitive), of them the first is a
   prayer consisting much of discourse of the understanding; the other two
   are prayers of the will, but most principally and purely the last. Of
   these three I shall treat in order in the following discourse (to wit:
   1. in pursuit of this second section of the most imperfect degree, to
   wit, meditation; 2. in the following section of the prayer of immediate
   acts of the will; 3. and in the last section of the prayer of
   aspirations or contemplation); but before I come to treat of each in
   particular, I conceive it requisite first to show the grounds upon
   which the propriety and reasonableness of this division of the
   succeeding degrees of prayer is built, and it may be evidently and
   convincingly demonstrated so far, that according to the dispensation of
   divine grace to souls that tend to perfection, it may be affirmed that
   they are conducted by these degrees in this order, and no other way;
   and this experience will make good even in souls that never heard of
   any degrees of prayer, but, without learning, reading, or instructions,
   are immediately guided by God's Holy Spirit in His internal ways. The
   reason hereof will appear by that which follows.

   7. First, therefore, it is apparent and acknowledged that, generally
   speaking, a soul from a state of negligence and secularity first
   entering into a spiritual course, though she be supposed, by virtue of
   that grace by which she is moved to make so great and happy a change,
   to be really in the state of justification, yet there still remains in
   her a great measure of fear, conceived from the guilt of her former
   sins; and withal, strong inclinations to sin and vicious habits do yet
   abide, and will do so, till by long practice of virtue and piety they
   be abated and expelled. Moreover, a world of vain and sinful images do
   possess the soul, which distract her whensoever she sets her mind on
   God, calling on her to attend to her formerly pleasing objects, which
   took up all her affections, and which do still ofttimes insinuate
   themselves into her memory with too much contentment to inferior
   nature, which contentment, though she, upon reflection, do resist and
   renounce with her superior soul, yet this resistance is ofttimes so
   feeble, that frequently she is really entangled and seduced, and more
   oft does find ground to doubt that she has given consent thereto.

   8. Such being ordinarily the disordered condition of a soul at her
   first conversion, the remedy acknowledged to be proper and necessary
   for her is prayer, and the highest degree of prayer that for the
   present she is capable of is either a much distracted vocal prayer or
   discoursive meditation, in which the understanding and imagination are
   chiefly employed; and the reason is, because although God hath
   imprinted true charity in such a soul, yet seducing images so
   abounding, and vicious affections being as yet so predominant in
   sensitive nature, there is a necessity for the fortifying it to chase
   away the said images and subdue such affections, by storing the
   imagination with contrary good images, and setting on work affections
   contrary to these; and this is done by inventing arguments and motives
   (especially of fear). So that the exercises proper to a soul in this
   first imperfect state are those of sensible contrition and remorse for
   sin, &c., caused by the consideration of the foulness of it; of the
   misery that attends it; the certainty and uncertainty of death; the
   terrors of God's judgments; the horror of hell, &c., as likewise a
   consideration that no less a price would serve for the reparation of a
   soul from sin, than the bloody Passion of the Son of God, &c. Such
   matters as these are now the seasonable subjects of meditation; and the
   actions of mortification fit to attend such prayer are more sensible,
   gross, and exterior, proper to repress her grosser defects.

   9. Now when by means of such exercises the soul is become well eased
   from remorse, and begins to be moved to the resistance and hatred of
   sin by the love of God rather than fear of His judgments, her
   discoursive prayer for all that does not cease, but there is a change
   made only in the objects of it, because, instead of the consideration
   of judgment, hell, &c., the soul finds herself more inclined to resist
   sin by the motives of love, or a consideration of the charity,
   patience, and sufferings of our Lord, as likewise out of a comfortable
   meditation of the future joys promised and prepared for her. Although
   charity be much increased, yet not yet to such a point but that she
   stands in need of motives and considerations to set it on work, as
   likewise of good, holy, and efficacious images of divine things to
   allure her to forget or neglect the vain images that yet do much
   distract her. The object of her thoughts now are the infinite joys of
   heaven, the sublime mysteries of faith, the blessed Humanity of our
   Lord, the glorious attributes of the Divinity, &c., and the
   mortifications answerable to the present state do grow more internal,
   being much exercised about inward defects, which by prayer are
   discovered to her and corrected. Now a soul whilst she continues in
   this sort of prayer and mortification, standing in need of a much and
   frequent consideration of motives, is properly said to be in the
   purgative way, though toward the latter end there be a mixture of the
   illuminative.

   10. In the second place, when a soul by perseverance in such
   discoursive prayer comes to find (as in time she will) that she stands
   in less need of inventing motives to induce her to exercise love to
   God, because good affections by exercise abounding and growing ripe do
   with facility move themselves, so that the mere presenting of a good
   object to the soul suffices to make her produce a good affection;
   thenceforward, by little and little, the soul in prayer quits
   discoursing, and the will immediately stirs itself towards God, and
   here (meditation ending) the second and more perfect degree or state of
   internal prayer begins, to wit, the prayer of immediate acts of the
   will.

   11. Now a soul living a solitary or abstracted life, and being arrived
   to this prayer, if she should be obliged by others, or force herself to
   continue meditation, she would make no progress at all, yea, on the
   contrary, the extreme painfulness of inventing motives (now
   unnecessary) and tying herself to methods and prescribed forms would be
   to her so distractive, so void of all taste and comfort, and so
   insupportable, that not being suffered to follow God's invitation
   calling to an exercise of the will, she will be in danger to give quite
   over all internal prayer; whereas, by pursuing God's call, she will
   every day get light to discover more and more her secret inward
   defects, and grace to mortify and amend them; and such her
   mortification is exercised rather by transcending and forgetting the
   objects of her inordinate affections than a direct combating against
   them; and this state of prayer doth properly answer to that which is
   commonly called the illuminative way, because in it the soul with
   little reflection on herself or her own obscurity, by reason of sin,
   &c., tends directly and immediately to God, by whom she is enlightened
   and adorned with all virtues and graces.

   12. In the third place, a soul after a long exercise in forced
   affections of the will to God, represented to the understanding by
   images far more subtle and spiritual than formerly, yea, endeavouring
   to contemplate Him in the darkness and obscurity of a blind and naked
   faith, void of all distinct and express images, will by little and
   little grow so well disposed to Him, that she will have less need of
   forcing herself to produce good affections to Him, or of prescribing to
   herself determinate forms of acts or affections; on the contrary,
   divine love will become so firmly established in the soul, so wholly
   and only filling and possessing it, that it will become, as it were, a
   new soul unto the soul, as constantly breathing forth fervorous acts of
   love, and as naturally almost as the lungs do send forth breath.

   13. And here begins the state of pure contemplation (the end of all
   exercises of an internal life). In this blessed state the actuations
   and aspirations are so pure and spiritual, that the soul herself
   oftentimes is not able to give an account what she does; and no wonder,
   since they do not proceed from any forethought or election of her own,
   but are suggested to her by the Divine Spirit entirely possessing her;
   and although in these most sublime and blind elevations of the will,
   the imagination and understanding with their images are not absolutely
   excluded, yet so imperceptible are their operations, that it is no
   wonder if many mystical writers, speaking according to what they felt
   and experienced in themselves, have said that in pure contemplation the
   will without the understanding was only operative. As for the
   mortifications proper to this state, they are as inexpressible as the
   prayer; indeed, prayer and mortification seem to be now become the same
   thing, for the light in which the soul walks is so clear and wonderful,
   that the smallest imperfections are clearly discovered, and by prayer
   alone mortified. Prayer is the whole business of the life, interrupted
   by sleep only, and not always then neither; true it is that by other
   necessities of corporal nature, refections, study, conversation, or
   business, it may be depressed a little from the height in which it is
   when the soul sets itself to attend to God only; but still it continues
   with efficacy in the midst of all those avocations. And this is truly
   and properly that which mystics do style the unitive way, because
   herein the soul is in a continual union in spirit with God, having
   transcended all creatures and herself too, which are become as it were
   annihilated, and God is all in all.

   14. There is no state of spirituality beyond this, but yet this state
   may infinitely increase in degrees of purity, the operations of the
   soul growing more and more spiritual in time, and divine without all
   limitation. In this state it is that the soul is prepared for divine
   inaction, passive unions and graces most admirable and most efficacious
   to purify her as perfectly as in the condition of this life she is
   capable. Now it is that God provides for souls dearly beloved by Him
   trials and desolations incomprehensible to the inexperienced, leading
   them from light to darkness, and from thence to light again; in all
   which changes the soul keeps herself in the same equality and
   tranquillity, as knowing that by them all she approaches nearer and
   nearer to God, plunging herself more and more profoundly in Him. A soul
   that is come to this state is above all instructors and instructions, a
   divine light being her guide in all manner of things; in a word, it is
   not she that now lives, but Christ and His Holy Spirit that lives,
   reigns, and operates in her.

   l5. These are the three states of a spiritual contemplative life,
   distinguished according to the three states or degrees of internal
   prayer. As for vocal prayer, it is not to be esteemed a peculiar degree
   of prayer; but it may and doth accompany all these states without any
   change in the substance of the prayer, though with very great variety
   in the actuation of the soul during its exercise; for whilst the soul
   is in the imperfect degree of meditation, she performs her vocal prayer
   with the use of grosser images and much distractedness; but being
   arrived to the exercises of the will, she recites them with less
   multiplicity and some good measure of recollection, and being in the
   exercise of aspirations, her vocal prayers become likewise aspirative
   and unitive, not at all distracting her, but rather driving her more
   profoundly and intimately into God.

   16. Now God being both the principle and object of all our internal
   exercises is, after several ways, represented to the mind in them; for,
   1. In meditation the soul, as yet much immersed in sense, is forced to
   make use of a distinct grosser image by which to apprehend Him, as the
   Humanity of our Lord and the mysteries belonging thereto, and sometimes
   such attributes of the Divinity as are most obvious and easy to be
   conceived, and which do produce more sensible motions in our imperfect
   souls, as His justice, mercy, power, &c. 2. But in the practice of the
   acts of the will, the understanding endeavours to apprehend God in the
   obscure notion of faith; and when she is sometimes forced to make use
   of more particular sensible images, the mind, after a short reflection
   on them, gives place to the recollected actuations of the will alone.
   3. But being arrived to aspirations (which is active contemplation) the
   soul makes use of no particular express images at all, but contents
   herself with the only general obscure notion of God which faith teaches
   her.

   17. Now though it may seem that the most perfect have no great
   advantage in this regard over the more imperfect, since all that are
   imbued with ordinary knowledge do sufficiently believe and are assured
   that God, being infinite and incomprehensible, cannot be truly
   represented by any particular images and notions which are creatures of
   our own framing, notwithstanding we are to consider that there is a
   great difference between the acknowledging of this truth in the
   speculative judgment, and the operating according to such a truth by
   the will; for imperfect souls, notwithstanding the foresaid judgment,
   when they are to apply themselves to prayer, are forced in practice to
   contradict such their speculative judgment, and to represent God to
   their minds not only by particular and distinct, but even grosser
   sensible images, because they find that the said true and perfect
   notion of God by a general, negative, obscure conception of faith, will
   have little or no efficacy on their wills, the which will remain arid
   and void of all good affections, except they exchange the said notion
   for others more particular and express. Whereas, on the contrary,
   perfect souls having by long practice purified their internal
   operations, in time do come to such a state that they cannot, if they
   would, receive benefit, or warm their affections by sensible or
   particular images; except they do silence not only the imagination but
   understanding also, the will remains without motion or vigour; yea, in
   the particular case of the great desolation, the elevations of the will
   also become so wonderfully pure, delicate, and even imperceptible, that
   the soul itself can scarce perceive or so much as believe that she
   operates towards God, insomuch as, on the contrary, she is oft
   perplexed with great fear and doubt that in truth she does not love
   God.

   18. Now the foresaid division of the three states of prayer, together
   with the successive purification and spiritualizing of images, is so
   grounded on reason and even nature, that every one that experiences
   prayer will perceive it, and others cannot except against it. For as we
   see in all arts and sciences, as (for example) music or poetry, a
   person that sets himself to learn them is at the first obliged to make
   use of a world of gross distinct images, the which he applies
   particularly and leisurely to every string, every stop, and every
   finger moving the instrument, as likewise to every word and syllable in
   a verse; but by exercise having attained to a moderate skill, a far
   less number of images will serve to direct him; and the reason is
   because the images, by practice, becoming more pure and spiritual, are,
   by consequence, more universal, so that one will come to have the
   virtue of a great number which formerly were requisite; and at last the
   person becoming perfect in those arts will be able to make a verse
   exact, according to the rules of poetry, without any perceptible
   reflection upon any particular rules, and to play on an instrument not
   only in the dark, but even whilst he is conversing with another, by
   reason that the images are become so pure and universal, that the
   person using them perceives them not, neither knows by what he is
   directed.

   19. Now if the operation of a soul in natural sensible things may come
   to be so pure and subtle, much more in spiritual and divine matters, in
   exercising about which her endeavours ought to be to exclude all manner
   both of sensible and intellectual images, or rather in exercising about
   which the will alone strives to be operative.

   20. Notwithstanding what hath been said of the distinction of these
   three ways of a contemplative life, we are to observe that they are not
   so absolutely distinguished but that sometimes there may be a mixture
   of them; for it may happen that a soul, being as yet in the most
   imperfect purgative way, may in some fits be so abundantly supplied
   with grace, as that during the exercise of meditation she may oft be
   enabled to produce immediate acts of the will, yea, and perhaps
   aspirations too, so joining together exercises both purgative,
   illuminative, and unitive in one recollection; yea, it may be possible
   for such an imperfect beginner to spend the whole time of a
   recollection in those nobler exercises; but yet when such grace and
   devotion (which ordinarily lasts not long) does come to cease, she will
   be forced to return to her imperfect exercise of meditation; or, if out
   of an aversion from descending lower, she will needs stick to those
   higher exercises (which to her are but temporary), she will, by means
   of aridity and indevotion, lose all the fruit of her recollections,
   which will indeed become insupportable to her.

   21. So, on the other side, it may well happen that a soul that is
   ascended to the exercise of immediate acts, may sometimes for some
   short space find it necessary for her to help herself now and then, by
   using meditation and seeking motives in the understanding to move her
   affections. Therefore these three states are to be distinguished and
   separated with relation to the proper and constant exercises of souls.

   22. Before we quit the present subject of the degrees of prayer and a
   spiritual life, it is, for the preventing of mistakes, to be observed
   that those writers likewise which teach and know no more sublime
   exercises than meditation do, notwithstanding, divide the whole course
   of their spirituality also into these three exercises of the purgative,
   illuminative, and unitive way, although the perfection both of their
   doctrine and practice reaches no further than the active life which
   they profess, as we may see in the books of De Ponte, Rodriguez, &c.,
   to which we may add Louis of Granada also, &c.

   23. But these three ways of active livers, though agreeing in name with
   the forementioned mystic exercises, yet are much different in their
   nature and qualities; for all the said three ways are exercised by the
   help and with the use of discourse, and do never arise to the exclusion
   of particular sensible images, so that the perfection of their exercise
   is to discourse with more subtlety, and from such discourse to derive
   and draw more fervent affections and good purposes of the will. Further
   than this active exercisers cannot go, because their life does not
   afford the leisure, freedom, and vacancy from external businesses which
   is necessary for enabling souls to contemplative exercises, which begin
   with those that I call proper aspirations, arising upon the expiration
   of imaginative exercises, as being the perfection of them.

   24. And, indeed, if active livers should proceed further, they would
   then relinquish their institute, that refers all the doings of it to
   the exterior, which cannot be without the use and help of particular
   images, so that the forementioned general image of God, or rather
   non-image, is not at all proper for their course. They do not,
   therefore, ordain these their external imaginative exercises in order
   to contemplation, but only to enable them to perform their external
   deeds of charity with greater perfection and purity of intention. As
   therefore they do not themselves practise contemplation, so neither do
   they teach it to others, nor indeed can they, for want of experience.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S:S: 1, 2. Of Meditation: the first and lowest degree of internal
   prayer.

   S:S: 3, 4. Who are apt or unapt for Meditation.

   S:S: 5, 6. Generally most souls are to begin with it. And why?

   S:S: 7, 8, 9, 10. What those are to do that are unapt for Meditation.

   S: 11. The misery of souls that are tied to a prayer improper for them.

   1. The first and most imperfect degree of internal prayer is (as hath
   been said) Meditation, or discoursive prayer, of which we shall treat
   here--not with that exact niceness as may be found in many books
   current in all hands, yet sufficiently in order to our present design,
   which is to consider it only as a preparation to the perfect prayer of
   contemplation; and therefore the instructions concerning it shall be
   such as may be proper for those whom God hath called to that perfect
   state, and withal moved to comply with the said call. And to such many
   instructions will not be proper.

   2. Meditation is such an internal prayer in which a devout soul doth,
   in the first place, take in hand the consideration of some particular
   mystery of faith, to the end that, by a serious and exact search into
   the several points and circumstances in it with the understanding or
   imagination, she may extract motives of good affections to God, and
   consequently produce suitable affections in virtue of the said motives
   as long as such virtue will last.

   3. This is a prayer to the exercise whereof all sorts of persons are
   neither disposed nor enabled, neither is it a token either of
   excellency of wit and judgment or of true devotion to be apt for the
   practice of it; on the contrary, the more that a soul doth abound with
   devotion and good affections to God, the less is she enabled or
   disposed thereto, yea, incapable of continuing long in the exercise of
   it. And again, some superficial wits, full of fancy, but wanting
   solidity of judgment, and which are not naturally much disposed to
   devotion, yet if they be put to the exercise of this discoursive prayer
   they will perform it better and thrive more in it than others, though
   of sharp wits, solid judgments, and great abilities, both in learning
   and invention, and that withal have very good wills to seek our Lord.

   4. Women are, generally speaking, less apt for meditation than men,
   and, by consequence, more fit for the more perfect exercises of the
   will, by reason that they are more disabled in judgment and invention,
   and more abounding in will and affections, so that in them the will
   draws the stream from the understanding; therefore great care is to be
   taken that they be not compelled without necessity to tarry long in
   discoursive exercises, lest thereby they may be much prejudiced in the
   head and spirit, with little or no profit any way, but much harm in
   being detained from the more proper and beneficial exercise of the will
   in holy affections.

   5. Now there being so great and inexpressible variety in the internal
   dispositions of persons, it is not possible to give certain and general
   rules to fit all, except this, that in the beginning of a spiritual
   contemplative course, all souls that are not naturally incapable of
   raising affections by internal discourse ought to apply themselves
   thereto, and to tarry therein till they find themselves ripe for a
   future exercise, to which they will attain sooner or later, either
   according to their diligence and constancy in practising meditation, or
   the measure and grace of devotion which God shall give them, or their
   natural aptness or inaptness for exercises of the understanding.

   6. This advice is of great concernment, and therefore souls are not
   easily and lightly to be permitted to apply themselves to exercises of
   the will till a convenient time spent in those of the understanding;
   for though, perhaps, whilst the fervor novitius lasts in the beginning
   of one's conversion, a soul, being then full of affection, may for a
   while have little need of motives to open the passage to the said
   affections, which of themselves will be apt enough to flow, yet that
   fervour ceasing, they will be at a miserable loss, full of nothing but
   aridities, obscurities, and desolations, having no refuge at all,
   except their understanding be stored with good motives of holy
   affections caused by former consideration and meditation.

   7. Yet this is not so to be understood as if souls were to be obliged
   to those nice, distracting, painful methods of meditation which are
   described in many books, or to frame curious pageants and scenes of the
   mysteries to be meditated on, &c.; for though such an employment of the
   imagination in prayer may be proper and profitable for those that by
   their professions live active distracted lives, to the end by such
   workings of the fancy to wipe out, as it were, the vain images
   contracted abroad by superinducing or painting over them new and holy
   images, yet for those who are more solitary and abstracted such a way
   of meditating would be very painful, and the profit so little, as it
   would not countervail the pain. To such, therefore, it will suffice
   with moderate attention to think on the substance of the mystery
   proposed, or on such circumstances of it as either are expressed in the
   text or do even naturally attend it, and from thence to draw as strong,
   fervorous, and frequent affections as may be.

   8. As for those that are naturally utterly disabled and incapable of
   meditating (as many women are), it is very requisite in the beginning
   that they should at least supply the benefit that comes from meditation
   by preparing themselves to their recollections with much serious and
   attentive reading of some pious book, which may in some good proportion
   recompense meditation.

   9. But in case a soul incapable of meditation and unable likewise to
   read shall undertake a spiritual contemplative course (as none are
   excluded), such an one must resolve to take a very great courage to
   pursue her exercises of the will and affections (which is but a dry
   exercise, and wanting sensible devotion is very ungrateful to the
   palate of the soul); she must be prepared not to be daunted with
   aridities and distractions, which distractions she has no other way to
   resist or expel, but only by pure obstinacy of the will not to attend
   to them or care for them; and, lastly, she must use more abstraction of
   life and solitude to prevent the multiplying of distracting images.

   10. Those who, in the exercise of meditation, are more seriously
   affected to the discoursing part of it than to the good desires and
   purposes which should flow from such discourse, are in danger of many
   perils, as of pride, curiosity, extravagant opinions, yea, pernicious
   errors. The cause of which dangers is the predominancy that their
   imagination hath over their other faculties, which inclines them to
   please themselves with subtle, aerial, and curious discourses, and with
   framing of places and times, and other circumstances, in the
   consideration of a mystery, all which inconveniences are avoided in the
   exercises of the superior will, which being a blind faculty is best
   able to heave up herself unto God in darkness and vacancy of images,
   and being likewise a spiritual faculty is exempted from the devil's
   influences, who has great dominion over our corporeal powers to suggest
   representations, &c. For these reasons it is good to make the
   discoursing part of meditation as short as may be, so as that if the
   mere reflection on a mystery will suffice to produce a good affection,
   the person is to restrain the imagination.

   11. To conclude, the great and inexplicable variety that is to be found
   in the dispositions of souls being considered, and likewise the great
   inconvenience that necessarily follows a misapplication of spirits to
   exercises improper for them, the sad condition of those good souls
   cannot sufficiently be bewailed who by their profession being, as it
   were, imprisoned in a solitary religious life, and being naturally
   inapt for discourse, are kept all their lives in meditation, repeating
   over and over again the same toilsome methods without any progress in
   spirit, to their great anguish and disquietness. And this misery is
   much greater in religious women, who, having no diversions of studies
   or employments, cannot possibly find exercise for their imagination;
   and therefore, seeing great defects and unsatisfactions in themselves,
   and not knowing the only cure of them (which is by ascending to the
   internal exercises of the will), their imperfections increase, and
   their anguishes proportionably, without any known means to amend them.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER III.

   S: 1. How a soul is to exercise Meditation.

   S:S: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. What inconvenient practices and methods
   therein are to be avoided.

   S:S: 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. What orders are positively to be observed.

   S: 15. The grounds of these advices.

   S:S: 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. Further special instructions to the
   same purpose.

   S: 23. A particular way of Meditation in Blosius.

   1. Intending now to set down more particular instructions and advices
   how and in what manner a soul (by her choice or profession aspiring to
   contemplation) ought, in order thereto, to practise the lowest and most
   imperfect degree of internal prayer, which is Meditation, I will first
   show such a beginner what he is not to do--that is, what practices and
   orders he is to avoid; 2. and next, how he is to behave himself in the
   exercise thereof.

   2. As to the former, therefore, I should be so far from commending,
   that I would scarce permit souls living a contemplative life (as all
   enclosed religious women do, &c.) to be strictly obliged to a
   prescribed method in meditation, or to those many and nice rules which
   are ordained by some modern authors, as: 1. that a soul should put
   herself in the divine presence; 2. that she should make acts of
   contrition; 3. that she should select points of meditation; 4. that she
   should consider them in such an order, with such framing of
   representations of the persons, times, places, postures, &c.; 5. that
   thence she should draw motives of good affections; 6. that thereupon
   she should draw petitions; 7. that afterwards she should make purposes;
   8. that thereto she should adjoin thanksgiving; 9. moreover, that she
   should have a list of imperfections or faults committed the day, &c.,
   before, and make expunctions of faults amended; 10. that, in
   conclusion, she should make an examination how her meditation hath been
   performed, to the end she may give an account thereof to her spiritual
   director, &c.

   3. It is far from my intention to speak against the use of such methods
   and orders among those where they were first invented and are still
   practised, for they may well enough agree with their institute, which
   is far more active than contemplative. But among solitary contemplative
   spirits such orders are indeed a disorder, and a nice observance of
   such ceremonious methods would be more distractive and painful than the
   simple exercise itself; and particularly the expectation that an
   account is to be given of one's thoughts during meditation would afford
   more business to a soul than the mystery on which she meditates, so
   that she would be more solicitous to give satisfaction to her director
   than to perform her duty to God; and therefore [113]St. Teresa with
   just reason complains against those directors which fetter and encumber
   their disciples' minds with orders and rules, which require more
   attention than the matter of the prayer itself.

   4. How to meditate profitably (though not curiously) is quickly and
   without much difficulty learnt by such as are fit for it; but to
   observe all the said prescripts is both difficult, encumbering, and
   unprofitable, being, indeed, little better than a misspending of the
   time (I mean for souls tending to contemplation).

   5. Moreover, in meditation I would not tie the will that it should not
   go beside or beyond the understanding; on the contrary, my advice and
   request is that the will, so it be carried towards God, should be
   suffered to go as far as it can, and that scope should be given to any
   good affection, not caring whether such affections be pertinent to the
   present subject to be considered on at that time, upon condition that
   the soul find that she bestows herself more efficaciously on God by
   such affections, than by those which would properly flow from the
   present motives considered. [18]

   6. Neither would I that when a soul has chosen one point or mystery to
   meditate on, she should strictly oblige herself to proceed on with it,
   but that if, without a voluntary roving and seeking, any other should
   offer itself to the mind more grateful and more gustful to the soul,
   she should entertain the latter, holding herself to it as long as the
   virtue of it well lasteth; and it ceasing, then let her return to the
   first proposed subject. And the like liberty I recommend in the
   following exercises of immediate acts, whensoever any act or good
   affection is suggested to the mind besides those which the soul finds
   in her paper proposed for the present recollection.

   7. Notwithstanding, in case that the new matter (or affections)
   occurring be such as that it doth feed some over-abounding humour or
   passion in the soul, as fear (even of God Himself), tenderness,
   shedding of tears, scrupulosity, or dejectedness of spirit, &c., I
   would by no means permit a soul to entertain her mind with such matter,
   because she will thereby only plunge herself more deeply into nature
   and immortification, and not at all purify her inordinate affections.
   Such souls, even in the beginning, ought not to choose such matters for
   their prayers, and much less ought they to be permitted to quit other
   good matter for that. This advice extends likewise to the exercise of
   immediate acts of the will, forasmuch as concerns the matter of them.

   8. Now such freedom of spirit and permission to change the present
   matter or affections is to be supposed to be allowed only when the said
   change proceeds not out of sloth, inconstancy, a vain pleasing of the
   fancy or affection, but out of a judicious election, or from an
   interior invitation, the which most probably is from the Spirit of God;
   hereto, therefore, may be applied that saying of [114]St. Bernard,
   Modus diligendi Deum, est diligere sine modo; that is, the measure and
   manner of loving of God is to love Him immeasurably and freely without
   a prescribed manner.

   9. In the next place, having showed what incumbrances a soul is to
   avoid in her exercise of meditation, I will proceed to declare
   positively and directly how I would advise her to behave herself
   therein.

   10. Let a soul that begins mental prayer with the exercise of
   meditation make choice of some good books of that subject, as Fulvius
   Androtius, Granada, or the abridgment of De Ponte's Meditations (which
   I would especially recommend).

   11. Let her begin with the matter of the purgative way, as concerning
   sin, death, the final judgment, hell, or the like, and let her abide in
   the exercises of that way till she finds in herself an aversion from
   sin, and that much of the fear and remorse that were formerly in her
   are deposed, so that she is come to have some good measure of
   confidence in God. When she finds these effects in her, let her
   (without regarding whether she has run over all the exercises and
   matters in her book belonging to the purgative way) pass to the
   exercises of meditation which respects the illuminative way (as they
   call it), that is to such whose matter or argument is some mystery of
   faith touching our Lord's Life, Passion, &c., and which are apt to
   beget and increase humility, patience, and other virtues in her.

   12. Being entered into the illuminative way, let her in like manner
   abide in the exercises thereof till she find herself apt for
   resignation, love, and other affections of the unitive way, to the
   exercise of which let her thereupon apply herself.

   13. It may happen that a soul that is duly and in right order come into
   the illuminative and unitive way (as those ways are distinguished by
   the masters of meditation), and after some time spent in the exercises
   proper to those ways may afterward find herself called back to the
   purgative, as after the committing of some fault extraordinary, or
   during some unusual temptation, in which cases she is to yield thereto
   and abide in those inferior exercises as long as she finds them proper
   and profitable for her (which is not like to be very long).

   14. In like manner, whilst she is in the purgative way, if acts of
   resignation, love, &c., and much more if aspirations shall offer
   themselves to her (as sometimes they may), let her by all means
   correspond unto them as long as they are relishing to her, neglecting
   and forbearing in the mean time to consider motives or to produce
   inferior acts of contrition, fear, &c., belonging to the purgative way.

   15. The ground of the reasonableness and necessity of these advices is
   this: because the matter and manner of prayer are to be prescribed and
   ordered according to the temper and disposition of souls, and not the
   methods of books; and therefore souls are to be applied to such a
   manner of prayer as God calls them to, and is likely to subdue
   inordinate affections in them; therefore scrupulous and fearful souls,
   even in the beginning; are to be forbidden the exercises of terror,
   &c., which belong to the purgative way, and they are to be applied to
   such exercises as are apt to produce love, confidence in God, &c.

   16. For some short space before a soul begins her exercise of
   meditation let her look upon the book, and therein peruse the points
   that she intends to meditate on; or rather, indeed, those points are to
   be thought upon and provided beforehand, that is, over-night for the
   morning meditation, and after dinner for the evening. So doing, she
   will be less to seek about them, and better employ the time appointed
   for her exercise.

   17. Let her not trust her memory for the points that she is to meditate
   on, but have the book ready that she may look on it as she shall have
   need, and let her take one point after another as they lie in the book,
   or as she shall have determined before, when she prepared for the
   succeeding recollection.

   18. In her meditating on each point let her behave herself after this
   manner: 1. With her memory and understanding let her think on the
   matter of that point; 2. out of which let her draw a reason or motive,
   by which the will may be inclined some way or other toward God; 3. and
   thereupon let her produce an act of the will (as of humiliation,
   adoration, resignation, contrition, &c.), abiding in such application
   of the soul to God as long as the will hath life and activity for it,
   or as long as she shall be able to do it; 4. the which failing and
   growing to be disgustful, let her proceed to the next point, therein
   behaving herself likewise after the same manner, so proceeding in order
   to the others following till she have spent a competent time in her
   recollection.

   19. Now I conceive a competent time for one recollection spent in
   meditation to be an hour, or very little less. Whereas for the exercise
   of immediate acts of the will a lesser space will suffice; and the
   reason of the difference is: 1. because in this latter exercise more
   acts of the will (wherein all good doth consist) are produced than in
   meditation; 2. and, besides, the exercise of acts is more dry and
   wearisome (except in some few that abound in sensible affections) than
   is meditation to souls fit for it.

   20. During meditation let the soul (neglecting the too common practice,
   in which meditation is made rather a study and speculation than an
   exercise of the spirit) spend no more time in inventing motives and in
   internal discoursings than shall be necessary to move the will to good
   affections; but as for such affections, let her abide in them as long
   as she can (for therein consists all the profit); and if upon one
   consideration or motive she can produce many acts of the will, let her
   not fail to do so, and to continue in each act as long as she finds
   that she is enabled. It is no matter though in the mean time the
   understanding should lie quiet, as it were asleep, and without
   exercise.

   21. Indeed, in souls which have an effectual call to an internal life,
   their meditations will have little study or speculation in them; for
   after a short and quick reflection on the matter, mystery, or motive,
   they will forthwith produce acts of the will; and their consideration
   of the matter is not so much by way of reasoning or inferring, as a
   simple calling to mind or thinking on a subject, out of which the will
   may produce some act or other answerable to the point reflected on by
   the understanding. And this sort of meditating is proper for many
   ignorant persons, especially women, which have not the gift of internal
   discoursing.

   22. A soul that practises meditation will find that at the first, she
   will, during one time of recollection, stand in need of many points to
   be thought upon, and of many motives to produce affections. But in
   continuance the will will become affected, as fewer points will suffice
   to employ it in producing good affections and purposes, which will take
   up almost the whole time appointed for the recollection; and a soul
   being come to this state, will be ready and ripe for a more sublime
   exercise of immediate acts of the will.

   23. Another way of meditating like unto this, and proper for persons of
   good wills, is that which is recommended by Blosius, and seems to have
   been his own practice, which is, without much discoursing to represent
   to the mind any mystery to which the soul has an affection (as our
   Lord's agony, or Ecce Homo, or His dereliction on the Cross, &c.), and
   to regard Him in such a state with as much tenderness of affection as
   may be, exercising short acts of love, compassion, gratitude, &c.
   Moreover, he advises a person to endeavour (yet without much straining
   or force used) to preserve this object present to the mind all the day
   after, and to perform the daily employments as in our Lord's presence.
   By this means a soul will come well prepared with a tenderness of heart
   to her recollections, and so will have little need to spend time in
   employing the understanding.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [18] [As it is possible that Father Baker's teaching upon this point of
   liberty of spirit in prayer may be misunderstood or controverted, I
   think it well to cite in his favour the advice given by St. Francis of
   Sales, in the Introduction to a Devout Life, Part II. chap. viii. He
   says: You must also know that it shall sometimes happen to you that,
   immediately after the preparation, your affection shall find itself
   quite stirred up in God. In that case you must loose the bridle to it,
   without staying to follow the method I have given to you; for although,
   commonly speaking, consideration ought to go before affections and
   resolutions, yet when the Holy Ghost gives you affections before
   consideration, you must not then seek consideration, since this is used
   for no other end but to stir up the affection. In a word, whensoever
   affections offer themselves, we must receive them and make room for
   them, whether they come before or after all the considerations. And
   although I have placed the affections after all the considerations, I
   have done it only to distinguish more plainly the parts of prayer; for
   otherwise it is a general rule never to restrain the affections, but
   always to let them have their free course when they present
   themselves.' The Saint is here alluding to the meditations he has drawn
   out in form in the first part of his work, which were inserted by
   Bishop Challoner in the Garden of the Soul.--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER IV.

   S: 1. Of the custom of set appointed Retreats for Meditation, &c.

   S:S: 2, 3. For what sorts of persons the said retirements are proper.

   S: 4. They are improper for religious persons practising contemplation,
   especially women.

   S:S: 5, 6, 7. Except with certain conditions.

   S:S: 8, 9, 10. How seculars may and ought to make use of and benefit by
   the said Retreats.

   1. Before I quit this subject of Meditation, or treat of the signs by
   which a soul, after a convenient time spent in the practice of it, may
   be able to judge of her ripeness for a higher exercise of prayer, it
   will not be amiss to consider what use or effect in souls by their
   profession or election aspiring to contemplation, and actually advanced
   in the same ways, the yearly, quarterly, or otherwise appointed
   Retreats for more serious meditation may have toward the same end, &c.
   Now just ground there is to take this into consideration, because
   experience shows that the said custom has of late been introduced into
   convents (even of women) professing the greatest solitude in order to
   contemplation.

   2. The clearing of this doubt will depend upon a due consideration of
   what condition the persons are, and what are the proper ends and uses
   for which the said retreats and practices of recollection therein were
   (or ought to be) designed; which, in the first place, in regard to
   secular persons were: 1. To be an efficacious instrument for one in an
   imperfect extroverted course of life to be brought to discern the
   foulness of his soul, the peril of his state, &c., and from thence to
   procure remorse, contrition, and purposes of amendment. 2. Or for a
   secular person in a less perfect state of life to discern and know
   God's will concerning the undertaking of a more perfect state; for such
   recollections (proper for the imperfect condition of the said persons)
   being practised in solitude, do serve much to the illuminating of the
   understanding, purifying the intention, and fortifying the will in good
   purposes and designs. 3. By the same the said persons may be well
   instructed how to serve God better, remaining in the same less perfect
   state, on which ground they have been worthily recommended by the See
   Apostolic, and their practice promoted by the grant of indulgences.

   3. Next in regard of religious persons, the said retirements: 1. Are
   very helpful in the beginning of such a spiritual state, by teaching
   with great exactness the rudiments of mental prayer, and for the same
   end they may likewise serve devout secular persons of active lives,
   that are desirous and have the courage, to undertake a more spiritual
   course. 2. In the progress of an active religious life, religious
   persons, by their many distractive employments and studies, cannot but
   contract many stains and defects, the which are not easily perceived,
   and less are they perfectly corrected by the help of their daily usual
   meditations; and, therefore, such solemn and rigorous retirements were
   justly esteemed requisite to procure light and grace for the
   discovering and rectifying such defects and dissipations of the spirit.

   4. These surely are the natural and proper ends of the said
   retirements, as they are usually practised at set times, respectively
   to each one's particular need. Now in none of these regards can they be
   proper for persons that in a life of religious solitude do actually
   practise contemplation, except only in the last point, viz. inasmuch as
   the said retreats are instituted to the end that religious persons may
   thereby take the benefit of a more strict solitude, and a freedom from
   distractive employments, there to enjoy a vacancy to attend to God
   alone in perfect liberty of spirit. For, indeed, in this regard
   religious persons of contemplative orders (especially such as are
   employed in offices, studies, &c.) may oft have need to recollect their
   dissipated and distracted spirits, as well as others, so that they may
   do very well monthly (or as occasion shall require) by such retirements
   to increase their light, and to lay up a treasure of good purposes and
   advices for the time following, by which practice an use and habitual
   state of recollectedness may be attained, and provision made that it be
   not extinguished by future employments.

   5. But if the end of such retreats be only to oblige souls to a nice
   observance and practice of meditation, merely for the foresaid
   purposes, without any consideration of advancing them in affective
   prayer, it cannot be imagined what benefit contemplative souls can reap
   thereby, but rather a hindrance and distraction. For: 1. They are
   supposed not to stand in need now to learn how to pray mentally, to
   which kind of prayer the said exercises are but the first imperfect
   rudiments, 2. Much less do they stand in need of a total change of
   life, or of doing some extraordinary penitential satisfaction for
   former crimes, or to learn remorse for them. 3. By such exercises, as
   they are commonly taught and practised, such souls will not learn how
   well to practise their religious observances in solitude, or to use
   vocal prayer of obligation more perfectly. For all such exercises,
   unless they be practised in order to affective prayer, do end in
   themselves, not being intended to be means to lead souls to higher
   prayer, &c. 4. And in case the persons be naturally indisposed for
   internal discoursive prayer, what is it that they can learn thereby
   (which is very ordinarily the case, especially of many religious
   women)?

   6. All things therefore considered, nothing seems to me more improper
   than the said retreats for meditation for solitary contemplatives, to
   whom a due observance of the choir is both far more proper and
   efficacious to all ends pretended to by such exercises than they are.
   Yea, moreover, great harm may come to souls professing contemplation by
   them; for so great attention, such an exact performance of nice
   observances, and such a captivity of spirit is required, that when all
   is passed, souls thereby ofttimes become disabled to continue the
   internal prayer proper for them, or to comply with many regular duties.
   To these we may add the great inconveniences which may come from strict
   examinations of conscience, repetitions of general confessions, &c.,
   very prejudicial to tender souls.

   7. Therefore, as touching contemplative persons, who (living, perhaps,
   under the conduct of those that are wholly devoted to the active way)
   shall be obliged to such retirements, and therein to exercises very
   unsuitable to their state, my advice to them is, that they should keep
   themselves in as much stillness of mind as may be, and having received
   instructions for their prayer, let them in practice give as much scope
   as they well can to their good affections, not much troubling
   themselves whether the said affections be proper to the matter proposed
   for meditation or no, nor distracting themselves with reflection upon
   their prayer, to the end to give an account of it to others. Let them
   likewise endeavour to preserve all due liberty in spirit in their
   examinations and confessions, therein proceeding no further than may
   consist with their spiritual profit, and by all means avoiding such
   particulars as are likely to nourish fear and scrupulosity, or to
   disturb the peace of their minds.

   8. And as for secular livers, to whom, indeed, the said retreats
   (according to custom undertaken at set times) may prove of admirable
   profit and benefit, to the end the virtue of them may not quickly
   expire, they ought to be careful afterwards to make good use of the
   lights received in them, and to put in execution the good purposes made
   during such retirements; for they must not expect by a few days'
   solitude and prayer to get a habit of sanctity, but only a transient
   good passion and disposition thereto, which, without future care to
   cherish and increase it, will quickly vanish, and their fervour will be
   cooled.

   9. Moreover, perceiving evidently by this experience the good effects
   of mental prayer, they ought to resolve the best they can to allow some
   reasonable time to the prosecution of it, when they return to their
   secular vocations, using likewise as much abstraction as their state of
   life will permit. Otherwise it is to be feared they will not only
   return to all their former defectuousness and sins, but will moreover
   thereto add the guilt of ingratitude to God, that so effectually called
   them from sin; and their following sins will be sins against clear
   light.

   10. Certain it is that if souls shall so rely upon the repeating such
   retirements, and new taking of the same practices of meditation, &c.,
   as by them to make amends (tones quoties) for all faults past, they
   will be in great danger to find themselves deceived. For though in
   itself it be very good to seek all good means to procure remorse and
   contrition for past sins, yet if a soul, upon a consideration that she
   has such a special remedy in readiness, shall neglect the care and
   watchfulness over herself, it is to be feared, and not without just
   grounds, that that which she takes for contrition will prove to be no
   more than a natural remorse; for it is not likely that God will shower
   down His grace upon a soul so corrupted in her intention.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER V.

   S: 1. A change from meditation to prayer of the will is necessary in an
   internal life.

   S: 2. It is otherwise in active livers.

   S: 3. A soul of a contemplative profession, when to leave operating
   with the understanding.

   S: 4. Exercises of the will more perfect than those of the
   understanding.

   S: 5. Whether meditation on the Passion may be left.

   S:S: 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. Reasons to prove the affirmative.

   S:S: 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17. Advices showing when a change of prayer is
   seasonable.

   S:S: 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26. More particular signs showing
   the proper time of a change.

   S: 27. The wonderful variety of changes in an internal life.

   1. It is impossible for a soul that leads an abstracted life, and
   diligently pursues internal prayer, to fix continually in meditation,
   or to rest in any degree of affective prayer; because the nature of
   such intellectual and spiritual operations is to become more and more
   pure, abstracted, and universal, and to carry the will and affections
   of the soul still higher and further into God; the activity of the
   imagination and understanding continually abating, and the activity of
   the will continually increasing and getting ground upon the
   understanding, till at last all its operations become so quieted and
   silenced that they cease, or at least become imperceptible.

   2. A soul, therefore, being thus invited and disposed to approach
   continually nearer and nearer unto God, if she be, either by her own or
   others' ignorance, so fettered with customs or rules that she is
   deprived of due liberty of spirit to correspond to such an invitation
   and to quit inferior exercises, she will find no profit at all by her
   prayer, but, on the contrary, extreme pain, which will endanger to
   force her to relinquish her recollections.

   3. It is otherwise with those whose profession is to live active
   distracted lives, though they do seriously aspire to the perfection
   answerable to that state. For such may continue all their lives in
   meditation, and follow the methods of it; because what they lose by
   their distractions they may recover by their following meditation, the
   good images used therein expelling the vain images contracted in their
   external employment. True it is that to such persons meditation will
   grow more and more pure, and more in spirit, yet never so as to exclude
   a direct use of the imagination.

   4. When a contemplative soul, therefore, hath for some reasonable time
   practised meditation, and comes to perceive that a further exercise
   thereof is become dry and ungrateful to her spirit, causing great
   disgust and little or no profit, she ought then to forbear meditation,
   and to betake herself to the exercise of immediate acts, which she will
   then doubtless perform with great gust and facility, to her notable
   profit in spirit.

   5. It is a great mistake in some writers who think the exercise of the
   will to be mean and base in comparison of inventive meditation and
   curious speculation of divine mysteries, inasmuch as none but elevated
   spirits can perform this, whereas the most ignorant and simple persons
   can exercise acts or affections of the will. On the contrary, it is
   most certain that no acts of the understanding (as speculation,
   consideration, deduction of conclusions, &c.), in matters pertaining to
   God, are of themselves of any virtue to give true perfection to a soul,
   further than as they do excite the will to love Him, and by love to be
   united to Him. And this union by exercise may be obtained in perfection
   by souls that are not at all capable of discourse, and that have no
   more knowledge of God than what is afforded from a belief of the
   fundamental verities of Christian faith; so that it is evident that the
   end of all meditation, &c., is the producing acts of the will.
   Therefore let no man neglect or scorn the exercise proper for him, out
   of a conceit that it is too mean; but let him first try the profit of
   it, and not till then make a judgment.

   6. Others there are that do, indeed, persuade souls in due time to quit
   the exercises of the understanding for those of the will, but yet
   always with one exception and reservation, to wit, of the meditation on
   the Passion of our Lord; this, say they, is never to be set aside, but
   will be a subject fit for the contemplation of the most perfect. What
   an ingratitude it would be to God, say they, and what a neglect of our
   soul's good, purposely to forbear a frequent meditation of this
   mystery, the ground of all our happiness, the root of all merit, the
   supremest testimony of divine love towards us, the most inviting and
   winning object of love from us to God, the terror of all our spiritual
   enemies, &c.! This is the position of many spiritual authors, and
   particularly of F. Benet Canfield.

   7. Notwithstanding, I cannot join with these authors in this position,
   nor agree that a due liberty of spirit should be abridged for any
   pretext whatsoever. The ground of which liberty is this, that a soul is
   to make the experience and proof of her own spiritual profit to be the
   rule and measure of all her spiritual exercises, and upon no colours or
   conceits of perfection in any subject or exercise, to oblige herself
   thereto further than she finds it helpful and gustful to her spirit.

   8. As for the mystery of the Passion, it does, doubtless, deserve all
   the titles given unto it; but yet souls are not to be discouraged if
   they find in themselves a disability to meditate on it, whether this
   disability proceed from some natural temper of the internal senses or
   from abundance of affections in the heart, that cannot expect, because
   they do not need curiously to search motives from the understanding and
   discourse; neither is it to be supposed that such persons, exercising
   immediate acts of the will toward God without discoursing on the
   Passion, are therefore bereaved of the true (yea, only true) exercise
   of our Lord's Passion. On the contrary, in such exercises of the will
   is contained the virtue of all precedent meditations. Neither are the
   persons driven to the pains and expense of time in finding out reasons
   and motives to raise their affections to our Lord, but immediately and
   without more ado suffer the affections to flow; and they do far more
   truly, efficaciously, and profitably exercise and, as it were,
   exemplify the Passion itself; and this in two manners, viz. 1. In their
   internal prayer, wherein they produce the same affections and acts of
   love, humility, and patience of which our Lord gave there a pattern in
   His Passion. 2. In their external doings, really on occasions
   practising the same virtues (which are proper to the Passion) with far
   more perfection in virtue of such prayer than they could by meditation,
   and so do show themselves to be more true disciples of His.

   9. This divine object, therefore, is far from being lost or forgotten
   by such proceeding in prayer, yea, it is in a far more noble manner
   both commemorated and imitated; and surely to tie the soul generally in
   all recollections to a particular curious reflection on the
   circumstances belonging to our Lord's Passion, would be as if one would
   oblige a person that can read perfectly, and with one glance of his eye
   join a whole sentence together, to make an express and distinct
   reflection on each letter, syllable, and word. Such a framing and
   multiplying of images would only serve to obscure the mind and cool the
   affections. Well may such devout souls, out of time of prayer, in
   reading or discoursing, admit such images, and receive benefit by them
   in future recollections; but when they actually pray, then to be forced
   to stop and restrain the will from melting into divine love or from
   sacrificing herself to God by perfect resignation, &c., till she have
   passed through her former imperfect method of imaginative meditation,
   is all one as to forbid souls to unite themselves in spirit to the
   Divinity.

   10. Notwithstanding, when souls come to be perfect they will be in such
   a state as that the express consideration of this or any other good
   sensible object will be no impediment at all to their higher exercises,
   yea, it will very efficaciously advance the soul in them, and this is
   after that perfect contemplation is attained to; for then the
   imagination is so rectified and so perfectly subjected to the superior
   soul, that it will not only not obscure or distract, but, on the
   contrary, will with great readiness help to make contemplation more
   pure and clear. Then a view of the Humanity of our Lord will drive the
   soul more deeply into the Divinity, as we see that the glorified
   Saints, without the least distraction to their vision of God, yea,
   surely with an addition to the perfection of it, do in their
   thanksgiving reflect on the Humanity and Passion of our Saviour,
   saying, Dignus est Agnus qui occisus est, &c.

   11. Till souls, therefore, do attain to such contemplation, let them
   (being in the exercise of immediate acts, &c.) content themselves to
   exercise the mystery of the Passion virtually, though not expressly,
   remembering the saying of a spiritual author, that in God nothing is
   neglected. All faith and all love is exercised in the contemplation and
   union of the spirit by love to the Divinity; all particular devotions
   are both sufficiently and perfectly performed when we perform our
   principal duty most perfectly. In doing this we do honour the Saints
   after a manner most acceptable to them; we do most perfectly discharge
   our vocal prayers (which are not of obligation), and we most
   efficaciously express our charity both to our friends, living and dead,
   so that there will be no need for such ends to interrupt or distract
   our recollections by obliging ourselves voluntarily to multiply the
   repeating of offices, &c.; and lastly, so far is this from being any
   disparagement to our gratitude unto our Lord for His sufferings, that
   we thereby acknowledge that all the good thoughts that we entertain,
   and all the good actions that we do, are produced in virtue of His
   Passion, adhered to by faith and love, although no express internal
   discourse on it be exercised.

   12. Now what hath here been delivered, concerning the disobliging of
   souls that practise internal prayer from tying themselves to
   imaginative exercises about sensible objects, is not only suitable to
   reason, but is moreover confirmed by the authority of learned and
   experienced mystic writers, and particularly the devout reader may see
   what Barbanson in his Secrets Sentiers (Part I. cap. vi. Admonit. 2)
   hath written on this point. [19]

   13. Thus having shown the indispensable necessity for a soul aspiring
   to contemplation, with all due liberty of spirit to follow the divine
   guidance from each inferior degree of prayer to another more sublime,
   then become more proper and profitable, I will now endeavour to give
   more particular advices concerning passing from the exercise of
   meditation to that of immediate acts of the will, and will show by what
   signs and marks a devout soul may reasonably judge and conclude that
   such a change and transition is proper for her. Yet so that my
   intention and desire is that souls should principally depend on their
   internal light, which God's Holy Spirit will afford them in and by
   prayer.

   14. Let every devout soul diligently pursue her present exercise in
   prayer, advisedly undertaken or recommended to her by a prudent
   director, till there come a proper time for a change. Let her (saith
   the excellent author of [115]Scala Perfectionis) content herself with
   this gift of God till He be pleased to bestow on her a better, which He
   will not fail to do when He shall see it to be for her good; and so
   doing she cannot but increase in charity, although she see no evident
   proof of her advancement in spiritual operations. Whensoever it shall
   be God's pleasure to make a change in her prayer, He will by degrees so
   press her thereto, that in the end she shall both clearly perceive and
   correspond to His invitation; and till that time come it is to no
   purpose for her to examine or frame any judgment of her progress. Her
   best is to do her duty, and leave the success to God.

   15. A change, whensoever it is made as it ought to be, consists in
   this, that the activity of the fancy and discourse is abated, and the
   whole internal exercise of prayer by little is reduced to blind
   operations of the will, which operations (or affections) likewise grow
   by practice more and more natural, quiet, pure, silent, subtile,
   imperceptible, and profound, the Divine Spirit drawing the soul, in her
   exercises, ever more and more unto Itself.

   16. Ordinarily, when a time of change from a more imperfect to a more
   sublime exercise of prayer cometh, it will not on the sudden or at once
   be perceived, or but very obscurely and doubtfully; only a soul will
   perceive a bettering in her exercises, her operations by little and
   little becoming more spiritual; and, indeed, in some persons there is
   almost daily a bettering and purifying of their prayer, which
   themselves do or may well enough observe, though, perhaps, they are not
   able to express the manner of it to another by reason of its subtilty.

   17. Far less inconveniences would follow by detaining a soul somewhat
   too long in an humble inferior exercise (as of meditation) when she is
   fit and ripe for a more sublime one, than if (through inconsideration,
   levity, or an ambitious humour to imitate examples or instructions in
   books not pertinent to her) she should at the first, or before her
   time, be put into one above her present capacity; for in the former
   case an easy and present remedy may be found by exalting the soul
   afterward to a more perfect exercise suitable to her present
   disposition, till which be done she will at least exercise her humility
   and submission of judgment, by which she will receive much profit. But
   it is very difficult to find a remedy in the other case; because, first
   the natural unwillingness and shame that is in souls to acknowledge
   their too hasty ambition and to descend lower will secretly hinder
   them; and, besides, they will be ready to justify themselves by
   misapplying certain documents in spiritual authors, which forbid souls
   to quit their present exercises for one inferior, through any
   discouragement from aridities or unsatisfaction found in them.
   Notwithstanding, except they will be content with the mortification of
   returning to meditation (in case they be not yet ripe for immediate
   acts of the will), they will be in danger of incurring an habitual
   dryness, melancholy, and stupidity; and, moreover, they will run into
   an endless labyrinth, perplexing and entangling themselves therein, to
   the great disquiet of their own minds and the troubling of others with
   questions and doubts.

   18. Yet it cannot be denied but that God doth often invite souls to
   some change in prayer, according to that which before they had read in
   some books; and then they are to follow the instructions of such a book
   as a light sent them from God. In which case it is indeed the secret
   motion and invitation afforded them by God to apply such instructions
   that is their sure guide, without which they must apply nothing that
   they find in books.

   19. More particularly by these following signs a devout soul may, for
   the most part, perceive and judge when it is fit for her to change her
   exercises of prayer (as, for example, to quit meditation, and to betake
   herself to a prayer of the will, &c.).

   20. First, she will not find that pleasure, satisfaction, and profit in
   her present exercise which formerly she did, but, on the contrary, a
   sensible disgust and a kind of impotency to practise internal discourse
   any longer; or, if she will force herself to observe her method of
   meditating, it will produce no effect upon her affections, which, if
   they were left to themselves, would flow far more freely; and this
   disgust is not for once or twice, nor, as formerly, upon occasion of
   some corporal distemper, passion, aridity, or any unusual accident, but
   it is a lasting, disgust arising from a desire to please God and to
   grow in perfection, joined with an uncertainty or fear that the way
   wherein she now is is not proper to effect that desire.

   21. Secondly, she will thereupon find in herself a certain motion or
   inward invitation to enter into some other new exercise, as yet not
   clearly known to her; or, if there be no new exercise proposed to her,
   there is, however, a motion to a cessation from the present exercise,
   at least forasmuch as concerns the manner of it; as it happens when,
   from aspirations, a soul is invited to a resting and repose in God,
   with a cessation of all active aspirations or affections, which is an
   immediate disposition to a supernatural contemplation.

   22. Thirdly, a devout soul, considering the benefit that she hath
   hitherto reaped by her present exercise and her accustomance to it
   (which is not easily left); considering, likewise, that for want of
   trial she doth not as yet know the worth and benefit of the new
   proposed exercise (which, at first appearing a little strange and
   uncouth to her, she will not easily see or believe that it will prove
   as profitable as her present exercise has already been); for these and
   the like reasons she will be apprehensive and unwilling to adventure
   upon the new one.

   23. Fourthly, during these uncertainties and irresolutions, her
   distaste in her present exercise rather increasing than diminishing,
   and God still interiorly, though not grossly and sensibly, inclining
   her to the new proposed way, she at length, as it were forced thereto,
   adventures upon it, yet with some fear at the first whether this change
   will prove for her good or no.

   24. Fifthly, as soon as she is well entered into this new exercise,
   presently she will find it gustful and delightful unto her, and withal
   much more profitable than was the other formerly practised; whereupon
   she will thenceforward with courage and joy persevere in it.

   25. By such steps and degrees doth a soul that is purely under the
   guidance of God's Holy Spirit pass from one degree of prayer to another
   formerly unknown to her, till at last she come to contemplation; and
   she will clearly perceive that it was not herself but God only that
   did, as it were, lead her by the hand, and draw her forward into the
   new exercise, teaching her likewise how to behave herself in the
   beginning; whereas in the pursuance of it she afterwards proceeds, as
   it were, by her own habitual skill, though really God is in everything
   her secret Master and Helper. And He deals with an humble soul as a
   writing-master with his scholar, who at first moves and directs his
   hand to form and join letters, but afterwards directs him only with his
   eye and tongue; or as a father that carries his child over a ditch or
   stile, but lets him go alone in the even plain way.

   26. And as for a soul that, by reading or teaching, is informed in the
   nature and degrees of internal prayer, her proceeding and transition is
   much after the same manner, excepting only that the next degree to
   which she is to ascend does not seem so strange to her; but the signs
   by which a necessity of change doth appear are, as formerly, a constant
   disgust in her present exercise (meditation, &c.), and a kind of
   disability to continue it with any profit to her spirit; by which means
   it comes to pass that in her recollections the meditating or
   discoursing part diminishes daily, and the affective part increases,
   the will by little and little getting ground of the understanding, till
   at last the prayer becomes entirely of the will; and thus she passes
   almost unawares into the next degree, her prayer becoming by little and
   little more and more purified. Into which degree, when she is in such a
   manner and order entered, then indeed she is not for any aridities or
   obscurities to quit it and to return to meditation, but to use a
   discreet violence upon the will to make it to produce good affections
   and acts, although nature take little comfort or satisfaction in the
   exercise; for by so doing she will much benefit herself, both by
   mortifying nature and fixing divine love more profoundly in the
   spiritual region of the soul.

   27. To conclude this point: a spiritual life is subject to many and
   wonderful changes, interior as well as exterior, and all are according
   to the mere will and good pleasure of God, who is tied to no methods or
   rules; therefore, following Him in all simplicity and resignation, let
   us wonder at nothing; let us neither oblige ourselves too rigorously to
   any exercise, nor refuse any to which He shall invite us, seem it never
   so strange, or to natural reason even senseless. For in His guidance
   there can be no danger of error, but, on the contrary, there is all
   security; and this may and ought to be a great comfort and
   encouragement to a well-minded resolute soul.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [19] [As probably this work of Father Barbanson is accessible only to a
   very few, I think it as well to quote what he says at the commencement
   of his Second Admonition. I quote from an old English translation: When
   either here or anywhere else I treat of the leaving of those more gross
   representations of the sacred mysteries, I would not be understood as
   if I counselled any so to omit them, as that thereby the stupenous work
   of our redemption should either be neglected or less esteemed; for we
   all know that from thence and from its merits we receive all our
   happiness. But the reason why I give this advice is because the
   imagination, being one of the grossest and meanest powers of the soul,
   and seated also in inferior nature, and that our happiness and
   perfection consist in the operations of the superior, whosoever shall
   tie himself constantly unto that gross manner of proceeding shall never
   arrive unto any perfect operations of spirit, whereby he may be
   elevated unto God really present in his soul, which, notwithstanding,
   is absolutely necessary, if we ever here expect to obtain an eternal
   fruition of Him.'--J. N. S.]
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

THE THIRD SECTION OF THE THIRD TREATISE.

    OF THE EXERCISES OF IMMEDIATE FORCED ACTS OF THE WILL, BEING THE SECOND
    DEGREE OF INTERNAL PRAYER.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER I.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3. Of exercises of the will: to wit, forced immediate acts,
   or affections and aspirations.

   S:S: 4, 5, 6, 7. Difference between acts of the will and affections.

   S:S: 8, 9. How the prayer of sensible affections is to be exercised.

   S: 10. Of sublime pure affections of the spirit.

   S:S: 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Of the prayer of immediate acts of the
   will compared with meditation.

   S:S: 17, 18. Conditions of acts.

   S: 19. Mere cessation of prayer to be avoided.

   S: 20. An account not to be required touching the behaviour of souls in
   affective prayer.

   S: 21. Acts proceeding from a good natural propension are most
   efficacious.

   1. A soul that by a divine call, as being in a state of maturity for
   it, relinquisheth meditation to the end to betake herself to a more
   sublime exercise, which is that of immediate Acts or Affections of the
   will, then only begins to enter into the ways of contemplation; for the
   exercises of the will are the sublimest that any soul can practise, and
   all the difference that hereafter follows is only either in regard of
   the greater or lesser promptitude, or in regard of the degrees of
   purity wherewith a soul produces such acts.

   2. So that the whole latitude of internal prayer of the will (which is
   contemplative prayer) may be comprehended under these two distinct
   exercises--to wit, 1. The exercise of forced acts or affections of the
   will, produced either immediately according to the person's present
   disposition, without a distinct or express motive represented by the
   understanding, or else suitable to such a motive, yet without any
   formal discourse of the understanding: these are called forced acts,
   because after that a soul is become indisposed to prosecute the
   exercise of meditation, it will be long before that good affections do,
   as it were, naturally flow from her, so that she will need to use some
   force upon herself for the producing of the said acts of the will,
   which are imperfect contemplation. 2. The exercises of aspirations,
   which, though they be in substance little differing from the former,
   yet by reason of the facility wherewith they are produced without
   force, foresight, or election, purely flowing from an internal impulse
   of the Divine Spirit, we therefore give them another name, and call
   them not acts, but aspirations, the constant exercise of which is
   proper and perfect contemplation.

   3. Of these two exercises I shall consequently treat, beginning with
   the more imperfect, which is that of forced immediate acts or
   affections of the will.

   4. In this exercise I make some difference between acts and affections
   of the will, the former of which are made in and by the superior will
   only, without any concurrence of sensitive nature. Such are acts of
   humiliation, resignation, &c., the producing of which does not cause
   any gust in inferior nature; whereas affections of love, joy, hope,
   desire, &c. (being exercised by imperfect souls), are much immersed in
   sense; and they begin at the first almost wholly in inferior nature,
   but yet by practice they become more and more pure, being raised to the
   top of sensitive nature, where it is joined or combined with the
   superior spiritual will.

   5. Now whether of these two, that is, acts or affections, are to be
   practised respectively by souls, that must depend upon the observation
   and experience that each soul has of her own natural disposition and
   inclination. Generally, souls are more disposed to the exercise of
   immediate acts, which, likewise, are both more profitable and more
   secure, and, therefore, in the following discourse I shall most insist
   upon them.

   6. And as for the exercise of sensible affections, it belongs only to
   such souls as in their natural temper are more tender and affectionate;
   whose love expresses itself with great liquefaction in sensible nature,
   so that they are easily moved to tears, and do feel warmth and quick
   motions about the heart, &c. (which effects or symptoms do not argue
   love to be greater; for it may be as cordial and more firm, generous,
   and active in others who seldom or never feel such effects).

   7. Such tender souls as these, having withal a natural good propension
   to seek God in their interior, can easily exercise their affections to
   God in and by their corporal nature, without troubling themselves with
   seeking reasons and motives for it; yea, in a short time they come to
   have a kind of disgust in inventing or considering motives represented
   by the understanding.

   8. As for the manner how such souls are to behave themselves in their
   recollections, the special instructions following concerning the
   exercising of immediate acts of the will will serve, so that there will
   be no need of repeating them twice.

   9. The principal care that such souls ought to have is, to endeavour to
   raise this their love out of sensitive nature to the superior spiritual
   will, by whose operations alone the soul is truly perfected. Therefore,
   according to the advices formerly given touching sensible devotion,
   they are to mortify and restrain rather than to give scope to tears and
   other tendernesses of nature in prayer, &c.; and some other particulars
   which do concern affections, as distinct from acts of the will, shall
   hereafter be occasionally taken notice of.

   10. Now besides these sensible acts of love there are others, which are
   purely in spirit, and which, among all the operations of the will, are
   the most sublime that can be exercised in this life; for they cannot be
   used by a soul (so as to be her constant usual exercise) till she be
   come to a perfect degree of mortification, which ordinarily is not
   before a passive union; after which they are exercised in a manner so
   spiritual and divine, that the unexperienced cannot conceive nor the
   experienced express. Those are certain painful yet delightful longings
   after God; certain languishing elevations of spirit towards an unknown,
   dark, Divine Object, the desire and absence of which causes a tedious
   disgust of all sensible contentments--yea, even in spiritual things
   also. But of such operations as these it will be seasonable to speak
   when we come to treat of perfect contemplation.

   11. As touching the most profitable exercises of immediate acts of the
   will, the practice thereof in gross is after this manner. The soul's
   aim is to recollect herself by that general notion that faith gives her
   of God; but being not able to do this presently, she doth in her mind,
   and by the help of the imagination, represent unto herself some Divine
   Object, as some one or more perfections of God, or some mystery of
   faith, as the Incarnation, Transfiguration, Passion, Agony, or
   Dereliction of our Lord, &c.; and thereupon, without such discoursing
   as is used in meditation, she doth immediately, without more ado,
   produce acts or affections one after another towards God, or upon
   herself with reference to God, adoring, giving thanks, humbling herself
   in His presence, resigning herself to His will, &c.

   12. This exercise is more easy to learn and comprehend than meditation,
   because so many rules are not necessary to it, neither is there in it
   such study or exercising the abilities of the understanding or
   imagination. It is, indeed, a very plain, downright, and simple
   exercise, consisting merely in the efficacy of the will; but
   notwithstanding such plain simplicity, it is a far more noble exercise
   than that of meditation, as being the fruit and result of it; for
   whatsoever the understanding operates with reference to God can produce
   no good effect upon the soul further than it hath relation to and
   influence on the will, by disposing it to submit and resign itself to
   God, or to tend towards Him by acts of love, adoration, &c.

   13. Now this exercise, although likewise it be not so busy and
   laborious as meditation, yet it may and will oftentimes seem to some
   souls, even after they have made a reasonable progress in it, to be
   more harsh and difficult; but the good-will and resolution of the soul
   persisting in it will, by God's grace, overcome all difficulties.

   14. An advice, therefore, it is again and again to be repeated, and
   never to be forgotten--to wit, that the devout well-minded soul that
   shall be called by God to walk in these internal ways of prayer be
   courageous and diligent in the pursuance of them, after the best manner
   she can, amidst all desolations, obscurities, and distractions,
   practising these exercises as much as may be in the superior will, not
   caring whether sensitive nature concur therein or no.

   15. In forced immediate acts of the will, especially at the beginning,
   there is some degree of meditation, which is the thinking on the
   object, and thereupon internally producing the act or affection itself,
   and quietly continuing and resting in it till all the virtue of it be
   spent. There is, likewise, always some use of images; and in the
   beginning these images are more gross, but afterwards, by practice,
   they grow more pure, and all manner of discourse ceaseth; yea, the soul
   will begin to reject all distinct images, and apprehend God without any
   particular representation, only by that obscure notion which faith
   informs us of His totality and incomprehensibility; and this only is
   truth, whereas all distinct images are but imperfect shadows of truth.

   16. Now how great is the security of a soul thus operating purely by
   the will? How free is she from those errors and dangers into which she
   may be led by the curious searching subtilty of the understanding? Here
   God Himself is only her light, and not any imagination of her own;
   though images should intrude themselves perforce into the fancy, or be
   incited by the devil, yet the soul will not with the will apply herself
   to such images, but either diverts her mind from them or transcends and
   renounces them; and without images stirring up sensuality and the
   rational will, the devil cannot produce the least harm or danger to the
   soul, nor hinder her union with God.

   17. The more plain and simple that acts of the will are (for the manner
   of expression), the more proper and efficacious are they to cause a
   good and profitable recollection; and therefore such elegant and
   sprightly expressions as are to be found in many places of St.
   Augustine's [116]Confessions, Soliloquies, &c., or in [117]St. Bernard,
   [118]St. Teresa's Exclamations, &c., though they be more full of life,
   and more apt to inflame affection, being read out of times of
   recollection, yet they are not so proper to be used in the
   recollection, because the pleasingness and exquisiteness of the
   expression gives too much exercise and contentment to the fancy, and by
   that means distracts and enfeebles the actuation of the will. This, I
   say, holds most generally true; yet if souls do find their profit more
   by the use of them, let them, in God's name, make choice of such.

   18. The less impetuous that the operations of the will are in this
   exercise of Immediate Acts, and the more still, quiet, peaceable, and
   profound that they are (so there be no wilful negligence), the more
   effectual and profitable are they, and the more efficacious to still
   passions, as also to compose and settle the imagination.

   19. There may come much harm to a soul by cessation from internal
   working, and from all tendence to God in her recollections, if so be
   the motive of such cessation be a desire and expectation to hear God
   speaking after any unusual manner within her, and telling her some new
   thing or other; for by giving way to such a foolish presumption she
   will deserve, and put herself in a disposition to receive, diabolical
   suggestions, or, at least, vainly to conceive and interpret her own
   imaginations to be internal speakings of God; and this may prove very
   perilous if a soul give credit to such fancies (as probably such souls
   will); but they ought to consider that if God's pleasure be such as to
   communicate His will internally after an extraordinary manner, He will
   speak and work whether the soul will or no, and whether she will or no
   she must hear and suffer. And, therefore, let her abstain from such
   indiscreet invitations or expecting such divine conversations; let her
   continue quietly her exercises, and not cease till God force her to
   cease them.

   20. The custom practised by some spiritual directors of requiring from
   all their disciples an account of their internal prayer, formerly
   judged to be inconvenient, as causing distractions and too frequent
   reflections with solicitude upon their present actuations, to the end
   they may remember them, and so be able to relate them,--the said
   custom, I say, is moreover (besides this inconvenience and uselessness)
   of extreme difficulty in this exercise, which, being simple and plain,
   acted only or chiefly by the will, cannot well be explicated, inasmuch
   as the acts leave scarce any sensible impression in the memory; and
   lastly, they are exercised directly to God without any reflections. Now
   it is by the means of reflections that a soul takes notice of and
   remembers her actuations.

   21. Where there is a good propension in the interior to introversion,
   an act produced by the will to God is not only much more prompt,
   facile, and profound, but also far more efficacious than any other
   without such a propension can be, though the party be never so learned,
   and employ never so much the faculty of reasoning. Yet do I not deny
   but that even souls of the greatest propensions may sometimes find
   themselves obliged to make use of some meditation. But (unless their
   director mislead and wrong them) they will not tarry long therein, but
   will presently break forth copiously into good affections.
     __________________________________________________________________

  CHAPTER II.

   S:S: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. Touching certain
   forms of immediate acts, &c., adjoined to the end of the book; and how
   they are to be used.

   S:S: 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. Great variety of acts there
   are--some directed to the pure Divinity, some to our Lord's Humanity,
   some to Saints, some to the soul herself, &c.--and what use is to be
   made of them.

   S:S: 24, 25, 26. To what souls one form of exercise without variety may
   be proper.

   S: 27. Of exercising upon the Pater Noster. The excellency thereof.

   S:S: 28, 29. Souls are not to bind themselves to certain forms.

   S:S: 30, 31, 32. What use is to be made of the usual reading in
   preparation to recollection.

   S:S: 33, 34, 35, 36. How souls that cannot make use of images are to
   behave themselves.

   S:S: 37, 38, 39, 40. What order is to be observed in the change of
   acts.

   S: 41. Souls must not bind themselves to these or any set form of
   exercises; but they must choose for themselves.

   1. At the end of this book I have adjoined a collection of several
   patterns of exercises by acts of the will and holy affections, for the
   use and practice of those whom, either in the world or in religion, God
   shall call to an internal life of contemplation. [20] I did not
   conceive any necessity to annex any exercises of meditation, partly
   because it was not my design to treat of that degree of prayer, but
   only passingly and in order to affective prayer, to which it is but a
   remote preparation; and, besides, there are patterns of such exercises,
   abundantly obvious to every one, which may suffice any internal liver,
   being practised according to the instructions here formerly given. And
   as for the supreme degree of affective contemplative prayer--to wit,
   perfect aspirations--I have contented myself with selecting a few,
   which are added in the conclusion, rather to show to imperfect souls
   the form and manner of them than for the use of perfect souls ripe for
   the exercise of them; for such are conducted, immediately and entirely,
   by a divine light, and have no need of human prescriptions; neither,
   indeed, can they profitably make use of any other affections than only
   such as God's Holy Spirit shall suggest to them.

   2. As touching, therefore, the foresaid exercises of forced immediate
   acts of the will and affections, I have compiled a sufficient variety
   of them proper for all states and dispositions of souls, as acts of
   remorse, fear, contrition, &c. (which belong to the purgative way), and
   likewise acts of adoration, glorification, humiliation, resignation,
   and love (which belong to the illuminative and unitive ways). I have,
   moreover, made some distinct exercises of affections, more proper for
   some souls than are those which I call acts of the will; besides, I
   have set down most copiously patterns of simple acts of resignation, as
   being generally the most useful and proper for most souls. And lastly,
   several exercises there are mixed and interlaced partly with acts and
   partly with affections, and those not of one, but several kinds,
   because many souls there are that cannot content themselves with being
   tied to any one kind of determinate exercise. And, therefore, my desire
   was to comply with all tempers, to the end that every one might find an
   exercise proper and profitable for him, or at least might be put in the
   way how to frame for himself such an one.

   3. A soul that, after a sufficient time diligently spent in the
   practice of meditation, is maturely called and conducted by God to the
   exercise of immediate acts may, and indeed ought, at the first to take
   for the subject of her recollections those acts which belong to the
   unitive way--to wit, acts of divine love, resignation, &c.; but the
   case is otherwise with a soul that is found utterly unfit for
   meditation, and consequently must necessarily begin a spiritual course
   with the prayer of immediate acts; for, for such a soul (ordinarily
   speaking), it will be expedient that at the beginning she take for the
   matter of her acts such as are proper for the purgative way, as acts of
   contrition, fear of judgment, hell, &c.; and this advice is conformable
   to the directions of Blosius in the tenth and eleventh chapters of his
   Institutions.

   4. Now for the use of the said exercises of immediate acts and
   affections, I would advise a soul that is well disposed and resolved to
   practise them that, at the first, she would rather use them mentally,
   because it is less distractive and more recollective, unless by
   experience she find that the using them vocally doth most relish with
   her spirit, and (as in some dispositions it may) cause a more intimate
   and perfect recollection.

   5. Whereas every exercise consists of about ten clauses of acts or
   affections, let her not tie herself precisely to that number in any
   recollection; but if one exercise will not serve, let her borrow from
   the next following; and again, if one be too much for one time, let her
   use as many of those acts in order as they lie as will suffice for the
   time, and no more, and in the next recollection let her begin where she
   last ended.

   6. A devout soul will find that, by diligent practice, in progress of
   time the number of acts or affections to be exercised in each
   recollection will come to diminish, so that whereas at the beginning
   (perhaps) ten acts would scarce suffice for one recollection,
   afterwards five or three, yea, it may be, one will ofttimes be
   sufficient. [21]

   7. Let her generally observe the order and sequel of the said acts
   contained in the exercises proper for her, beginning and prosecuting
   them as they lie; for otherwise she will spend the precious time
   allotted for prayer in looking here and there for somewhat that may be
   pleasing to her fancy or humour, and yet in the end, perhaps, not
   content herself, or at the least the satisfaction that she may come to
   find will scarce countervail the distraction incurred and time lost.
   And again, it is an ill custom of some to take at random the acts or
   affections on which they would exercise themselves, opening the book
   and at adventure making use of what their eyes first light on.

   8. Yet let her not tie herself so rigorously and superstitiously to any
   of the said acts, but that if without searching there should be offered
   to her any other kind of act or affection (be it resignation, love, or
   aspirations, &c.) which may be gustful to her, let her entertain it,
   and therein abide as long as the relish of it lasteth, and that ceasing
   let her return to prosecute the acts of the present exercise.

   9. Yet one special case there is, in which a soul ought by no means to
   oblige herself to any order prescribed in the said exercises, and that
   is, when she finds that fear or scrupulosity do overmuch abound in her,
   causing unquietness, dejection, and want of confidence in God. In which
   case let her by all means omit such exercises or acts as are apt to
   raise or feed such passions in her, and instead of them let her apply
   herself to exercises of hope, love, and joy in God, which ought to be
   cherished in her.

   10. Yea, souls that are of such a disposition ought, even in the
   beginning, after their first conversion, not to dwell long upon the
   exercises that concern remorse for sin or other matters of fear, as
   death, judgment, and hell, but rather to fix upon affections contrary
   to their present disposition; and in case of new faults committed, let
   their contrition or detestation of sin be rather exercised in a
   generality, or virtually in acts of conversion to God, than
   particularly, directly, and expressly; and let them not be scrupulous
   herein, out of an opinion that at such times God expects painful
   remorses from them, or earnest expressions of detestation of their
   sins; for such detestation is sufficiently involved in an act of direct
   love to God, which contains much perfection besides. Such acts,
   therefore, being more beneficial to her, are consequently more
   acceptable to God.

   11. A soul having pitched upon any act or affection contained in the
   said exercises, let her tarry as long upon each of them, without
   passing to another, as her gust unto such an affection lasteth, and as
   she finds profit to her spirit by it.

   12. Whensoever in any clause there is contained matter of several
   desires or affections, let her in her mind and exercisi