1. Of Sight.

With every kind of watchfulness, daughter,” saith Solomon the wise, “guard well thy heart, for in it is the life of the soul, if it is well governed.” The wardens of the heart are the five senses: sight, hearing, taste, smelling, and every member’s feeling, and we shall speak of them all; for, whoever guards these well doth Solomon’s command. He keepeth well his heart, and the health of his soul. The heart is a full wild animal, and makes many wild leaps, as St.Gregory saith, nothing escapes from a man’s control so soon as his heart; David, God’s prophet, said upon a certain occasion, that it had deserted him, “My heart forsakes me;” and afterwards he congratulated himself, and said it was come home. “Lord,” saith he, “my heart is come back again: I have found it.” When a man so holy, so wise, and so wary suffered his heart to break loose, others may well be sorely anxious lest it should take flight. And where did it break away from the holy king David, God’s prophet? Where? God knows, at the window of his eye: through a sight that he saw: through a beholding, as you shall hereafter hear.

Wherefore, my dear sisters, love your windows as little as possible; and see that they be small, — the parlour’s smallest and narrowest. Let the cloth upon them be twofold; black cloth; the cross white, within and without. The black cloth signifieth that ye are black, and of no estimation with the world without; because the true sun, which is Jesus Christ, has discoloured you outwardly, and thus externally, as you are not fair to look on, has he made you through the rays of his grace. The white cross properly belongs to you; for there are three kinds of crosses — red, black, and white. The red appertains to those who are, for the love of God, ensanguined and reddened by the shedding of their blood, as the Martyrs were. The black cross is proper to those who are doing penance in the world for foul sins. The white cross is appropriate to white and unstained maiden purity, which requires much pains well to preserve. Pain is always to be understood by the cross. Thus the white cross betokeneth the keeping of pure chastity, which requires much pains to guard well. The black cloth also teacheth an emblem, doth less harm to the eyes, is thicker against the wind, more difficult to see through, and keeps its colour better against the wind and other things. See that your parlour windows be always fast on every side, and likewise well shut; and mind your eyes there, lest your heart escape and go out like David’s, and your soul fall sick as soon as it is out. I write more particularly for others, for nothing here said applies to you, my dear sisters, for ye have not the name, nay, nor shall ye have, through the grace of God, of staring anchorites, nor of enticing looks and manners, which some, at times, alas contrary to the nature of their profession, practice for against nature it is, and a singularly strange prodigy, that the dead should look out, and among living men of the world, consort with sin.

“My dear master,” saith some one, quickly enough, is it, now, so very evil a thing to look out?” Yea, it is, dear sister, for the harm that comes of it is evil above evil to every anchorite, and especially to the young; and to the old, inasmuch as she sets a bad example to the young, and gives them a shield where with to defend themselves. For, if any one reprove them, then, they immediately say, “Sir, she does the same who is better than I am, and knows better what she ought to do.” O dear young recluse, often does a right skilful smith forge a full weak knife; the wise ought to imitate wisdom and not folly; also, an old recluse may do that well which thou doest ill. But to look out without harm, neither of you can do. And now, observe what evil has come of looking; not one evil or two, but all the evil and all the harm that now is, and that ever yet was, and that ever shall be — all came of a sight. That this is true, lo, here is the proof: Lucifer, because he saw and beheld in himself his own beauty, fell into pride, and of an angel became a foul fiend. And it is written of Eve, the mother of us all, that sin first entered into her through her eyesight, that is, “Eve looked on the forbidden apple, and saw it fair, and began to take delight in beholding it, and set her desire upon it, and took and ate of it, and gave of it to her lord.” Lo! how Holy Writ speaks; and how, searching deeply into the cause and origin, it tells how sin began. Thus did sight go before and prepare the way for guilty desire; and death followed, to which all mankind is subject. This apple, dear sisters, betokeneth every thing that excites guilty desire, and delight in sin. When thou lookest upon a man thou art in Eve’s case; thou lookest upon the apple. If any one had said to Eve, when she cast her eyes upon it, Ah, Eve! turn thee away; thou castest thine eyes upon thy death: What would she have answered? “My dear master, thou art in the wrong. Why dost thou find fault with me? The apple which I look upon is forbidden me to eat, and not to look at.” Thus would Eve, quickly enough, have answered. O my dear sisters, truly Eve hath many daughters who imitate their mother; who answer in this manner. But, “Thinkest thou,” saith one, that I shall leap upon him, though I look at him? God knows, dear sisters, that a greater wonder has happened. Eve, thy mother, leaped after her eyes to the apple; from the apple in Paradise down to the earth; from the earth to hell, where she lay in prison four thousand years and more, she and her lord both, and taught all her offspring to leap after her to death without end. The beginning and the root of this woful calamity was a light look. Thus, often, as is said, “of little waxeth mickle.” Let, therefore, every feeble man and woman have much dread, when she who was recently created by the hand of God, was, through a look, seduced and carried onward to open sin, which overspread the whole world.

A maiden also there was, Jacob’s daughter, it is told in Genesis, who went out to see the strange women. Now, observe, it is not said that she beheld men, but it says women. And what, thinkest thou, came of that beholding? She lost her maiden honour, and was made a harlot. Afterwards, for the same cause, were truces broken by high patriarchs, and a great city burned, and the king and his son, and the men of the city slain, and the women of the city led away; her father and her brethren, such noble princes as they were, made outlaws. To this length went her sight: and the Holy Spirit has caused the whole to be written in a book, in order to warn women concerning their foolish eyes. And take notice that this evil which came of Dinah, came not from her seeing Sichem, the son of Hamor, with whom she sinned, but it came from her letting him set his eyes upon her; for that also which he did to her was in the beginning sorely against her will.

Likewise Bathsheba, by unclothing herself in David’s sight, caused him to sin with her, though he was so holy a king and God’s prophet: and now, a feeble man comes forward and esteems himself highly if he have a wide hood and a close cope, and would see young anchoresses, and must needs look, as if he were of stone, how their fairness pleases him, who have not their complexion sunburnt, and saith that they may look confidently upon holy men, yea, especially such as he is, because of his wide sleeves. Braggart Sir! hearest thou not that David, God’s own beloved servant, of whom God himself saith, I have found,” quoth he, “a man after mine heart” this king and prophet, chosen out of all the people, concerning whom God himself spoke these precious words, was thus, through casting his eye upon a woman as she was bathing, led into sin, let his heart wander, and forgot himself so far that he committed three heinous and deadly sins: adultery with Bathsheba, the lady upon whom he looked, treachery and manslaughter upon his faithful servant Uriah, her lord; and thou, a wretched sinful man, art so presumptuous as to cast froward eyes upon young women. You, my dear sisters, if any one is desirous to see you, never think favourably of him, but rather believe him the less. I would not that any man should see you except he have special permission from your superior; for all the three sins of which I have just now spoken, and all the evil with regard to Dinah of which I spoke previously, did not happen because the woman looked frowardly upon men, but it happened through their uncovering themselves in the sight of men, and doing that which made them liable to fall into sin.

For this reason, it was ordained by God in the old law that a pit should be always covered; and if any pit were uncovered, and a beast fell into it, he that uncovered the pit should make it good. This is a very terrible word to a woman who exposes herself to the view of men. She is represented by the person who uncovers the pit. The pit is her fair face, and her white neck, and her light eye, and her hand, if she stretch it forth in his sight. And, moreover, her word is a pit, unless it be the better guarded; and all that belongs to her, whatsoever it be, through which sinful love might the sooner be excited, our Lord calleth a pit. He commands that this pit be always provided with a lid and covered, lest any beast fall into it and drown in sin. The beast is any man who, like a beast, thinketh not of God, and doth not use his reason as a man ought to do; but seeketh to fall into this pit that I speak of, if he find it open. But the judgment upon those who uncover the pit is very severe; for they shall make restitution of the value of the beast that is fallen into it. She is guilty of the beast’s death, in our Lord’s sight; and shall answer for his soul on Doomsday, and make good the loss of the beast when she hath nothing wherewith to pay but her own self. Hard payment it is withal, and God’s judgment and his command is, that she must by all means make restitution, because she uncovered the pit in which it was drowned. Thou dost uncover this pit; thou who doest any thing by which the man is carnally tempted of thee, though thou know it not. Dread greatly this doom; and if he is tempted so that he sin mortally through thee in any way, though it be not with thee, but with desire toward thee, or if he seek to satiate on some other the temptation of thee, which is awakened through thy conduct, be fully certain of the doom. Thou shalt pay the value of the beast for opening the pit; and, unless thou be absolved thereof by confession, as is said, thou shalt bear the rod, that is, bear the burden of his sin. The dog enters gladly where he finds an open door.

St. Austin saith, “An immodest eye is the messenger of an unchaste heart. The light eye speaketh that which the mouth may not for shame, and is as the messenger of the light heart.” And here is a woman that would not for any thing desire uncleanness with man; and yet she never cared, though his thoughts inclined toward her, and he were tempted by her. But Saint Austin putteth both these in one balance to desire and to wish to be desired. To desire a man, or to wish to be desired of man, both are capital sins. The eyes are the arrows and the first arms of lechery’s stings; and, like as men fight with three kinds of weapons, with shooting, with spear’s point, and with sword’s edge, just so with the same weapons, that is, with eye-shot, with spear of wounding word, with sword of deadly handling, doth lechery, the foul harlot, fight against the lady, Chastity, who is God’s spouse. First, she shoots the arrows of the light eyes, that fly lightly forth like a feathered arrow and stick in the heart; then she shaketh her spear, and cometh nigh to her, and with shaking word giveth spear’s wounds; sword’s dint is downright, that is, the handling, for a sword smites in close fight and giveth a death’s stroke; and this truly is done, alas! too close, with them who come so nigh together that the one may handle or any where feel the other. Whoso is wise and good let her be on her guard against the shooting, that is, let her guard well her eyes; for all the evil that ever is comes of the eye arrows. And is not she too forward or too fool-hardy, who holds her head boldly forth in the open battlements, while men with crossbow-bolts without assail the castle? Surely our foe, the warrior of hell, shoots, as I ween, more bolts at one anchoress than at seventy and seven secular ladies. The battlements of the castle are the windows of their houses. Let her not look out at them, lest she have the devil’s bolts between her eyes, before she even thinks of it; for he is always attacking. Let her keep in her eyes, for if she is once blinded, she is easily overcome. Blind the heart, she is easily conquered, and soon brought to the ground by sin.

“As death came,” saith Bernard, “into the world through sin, so through eye windows death hath his entrance into the soul.” Lord Christ! how men would shut fast every aperture! Wherefore? That they might shut out death — death of carnal life: and will not an anchorite stop up her eye windows against death of hell and of the soul? And with good right may eye windows be called evil windows, for they have done much evil to many an anchorite:

All Holy Writ is full of warning of eye. “Lord,” saith David, “turn away mine eyes from the world’s delusions and its vain shew.” “I have compacted,” saith Job, “a covenant with mine eyes, that I may not think improperly upon a maid.” “What,” saith he, “do men think with eyes?” “God knows it,” saith he, “full well; for after the eye comes the thought, and then the deed.” Jeremiah well knew that, who moaned thus, and said, “Alas! mine eye has robbed all my soul.” When God’s prophet made such moan of eyes, what kind of moan, thinkest thou, has come to many a man, or sorrow to many a woman, of their eyes? The wise man asks, in his book, whether any thing doth more harm to a woman than her eyes “All the face shall flow with tears,” saith he, for the eye-sight alone.” This is now enough said of this sense, at this time, to warn the good. We shall, however, soon hereafter speak of it again.

2. Of Speech

Speaking and tasting are both in the mouth, as sight is in the eyes; but we shall let tasting alone until we speak of your food, and treat, at present, of speaking, and thereafter of hearing, of both in common, in some measure, as they go together.

First of all, when you have to go to your parlour window, learn from your maid who it is that is come; for it may be some one whom you ought to shun; and, when you must needs go forth, make the sign of the cross carefully on your mouth, ears, and eyes, and on your breast also, and go forth in the fear of God to a priest. Say first, “Confiteor,” and then “Benedicite,” which he ought to say; hear his words and sit quite still, that, when he parteth from you, he may not know either good or evil of you, nor know any thing either to praise or to blame in you. Some one is so learned and of such wise speech, that she would have him to know it, who sits and talks to him and gives him word for word, and becomes a preceptor, who should be an anchoress, and teaches him who is come to teach her; and would, by her own account, soon be celebrated and known among the wise.Known she is well; for,from the very circumstance that she thinketh herself to be reputed wise, he understands that she is a fool; for she hunteth after praise and catches reproach. For, at last, when he is gone away he will say, “This anchoress is a great talker.” Eve, in Paradise, held a long conversation with the serpent, and told him all the lesson that God had taught her and Adam concerning the apple; and thus the fiend, by her talk, understood, at once, her weakness, and found out the way to ruin her. Our lady, Saint Mary, acted in a quite different manner. She told the angel no tale, but asked him briefly that which she wanted to know. Do you, my dear sisters, imitate our lady, and not the cackling Eve. Wherefore, let an anchoress, whatsoever she be, keep silence as much as ever she can and may. Let her not have the hen’s nature. When the hen has laid, she must needs cackle. And what does she get by it? Straightway comes the chough and robs her of her eggs and devours all that of which she should have brought forth her live birds. And just so the wicked chough, the devil, beareth away from the cackling anchoresses, and swalloweth up, all the good they have brought forth, and which ought, as birds, to bear them up toward heaven, if it had not been cackled. The poor pedlar makes more noise to cry his soap than a rich mercer all his valuable wares. Of a spiritual man in whom you place confidence, as you may do, it is good that you ask counsel, and that he teach you a safe remedy against temptations; and in confession shew him, if he will hear you, your greatest and vilest sins, that he may pity you, and out of compassion cry internally to Christ to have mercy upon you, and have you often in his mind and in his prayers. “But be aware and on your guard,” saith our Lord, “for many come to you clothed in lambs’ fleece, and are raging wolves.” Believe secular men little, religious still less. Desire not too much their acquaintance. Eve spoke with the serpent without fear. Our lady was afraid of speaking with Gabriel.

Without a witness, of man or of woman, who may hear you, speak not with any man often or long; and even though it be of confession, in the same house, or where he may look at you, let there be a third person present; except the same third person upon another occasion should fail thee. This is not said in respect of you, dear sisters, nor of any such as you; no, but because the truth is disbelieved, and the innocent often belied, for want of a witness. Men readily believe the evil, and the wicked gladly utter falsehoods against the good. Some unhappy creature,

when she said that she was at confession, has confessed herself strangely: therefore the good ought always to have a witness, for two reasons especially: the one is, that the envious may not calumniate them, so that the witness may not be able to prove the accusers false; the other is, to give an example to others, and to deprive the evil anchoress of that unhappy false pretence which I spoke of.

Hold no conversation with any man out of a church window, but respect it for the sake of the holy sacrament which ye see therein, and sometimes take your woman to the window of the house; the other men and women to the window of the parlour, to speak when necessary; nor ought ye but at these two windows.

Silence always at meals; for if other religious persons do so, as you well know, ye ought before all; and if any one hath a guest whom she holds dear, she may cause her maid, as in her stead, to entertain her friend with glad cheer; and she shall have leave to open her window once or twice, and make signs to her of gladness at seeing her. The courtesy of some is nevertheless converted into evil to her. Under the semblance of good, sin is often hidden. An anchoress ought to be very different from the mistress of a family. Every Friday of the year keep silence, unless it be a double feast; and then keep it on some other day in the week. In Advent and in the Ember days, Wednesdays and Fridays; in Lent, three days; and all the holy week until noon in Easter eve. To your maid, however, you may say, in few words, what you please, and if any good man is come from a distance, listen to his speech, and answer, in a few words, what he asks.

Very foolish were he, who, when he might choose for his own behoof whether he would grind grit, or wheat, if he ground the grit and left the wheat. “Wheat is holy conversation,” as St. Anselm saith. She grinds grit who prates idly. The two cheeks are the two grindstones; the tongue is the clapper. Look, dear sisters, that your cheeks never grind any thing but soul food, nor your ears hear any thing but soul heal; and shut not only your ears but your eye windows against idle conversation; that neither talk nor tidings of this world may come to you.

You must not, upon any account, imprecate evil upon any one; nor take an oath, except ye be able to speak from clear or certain knowledge of the fact, or in some such way; nor are you to preach to any man; nor must any man ask of you, or give you advice or counsel. Consult with women only. St. Paul forbade women to preach, “Mulieres non permitto docere.” Rebuke no man, nor reprove him for his fault; but, if he be very forward, holy aged anchoresses may do it in some manner; but it is not a safe thing, and belongeth not to the young. It is their business who are set over the rest and have to take charge of them. An anchoress hath only to take heed to herself and her maidens. Let every one attend to his own business and not meddle with that which is another’s. Many a man thinketh that he doeth that well which he doeth very ill; for, as I said before, sin is oft concealed under the appearance of good; and, by means of such rebukes, an anchorite has raised between her and her priest, either a treacherous love or a great quarrel.

“That is the end of the discourse,” saith Seneca the wise, — “I will that you speak seldom, and then but little.” But many keep in their words to let more out, as men do water at the mill-dam; and so did Job’s friends that were come to comfort him; they sat still full seven nights; but, when they had all begun to speak, they never knew how to stop their importunate tongues. Thus it is in many, as Saint Gregory saith, “Silence is the foster-mother of words, and bringeth forth talk.” On the other hand, as he saith, “Long silence and well kept urgeth the thoughts up toward heaven;” just as you may see the water when men dam it and stop it before a spring, so that it cannot flow downward, then is it forced to climb again upward. In this manner must all ye check your words, and restrain your thoughts, as you would wish that they may climb and mount up toward heaven, and not fall downward and flit over the world, as doth empty talk. But, when you must needs speak a little, raise the floodgates of your mouth as men do at the mill, and let them down quickly.

More slayeth word than sword. “Life and death,” saith Solomon, “are in the power of the tongue. He who keepeth well his mouth,” saith he, “keepeth his soul.” “He who restrains not his words,” saith Solomon the wise, “is like a city without walls, into which an army may enter on all sides.” Gregory: “He that hath not the wall of silence, lieth open to foes.” The fiend of hell goes in with his army through the portal, that is ever open, into the heart. In the Lives of the Fathers, we are told that a holy man said, when men were praising one of the brethren, of whom he had heard that they were men of much speech, “Good,” quoth he, “they both are, but their dwelling hath no gate; their mouth is always prating and whoever will may go in and lead forth their ass; that is, their unwise soul. “Therefore,” saith St. James, “If any man thinketh that he is religious, and bridleth not his tongue, his religion is false; he deceiveth his heart.” He saith right well, “bridleth not his tongue; “for a bridle is not only in the mouth of the horse, but part of it is upon his eyes, and part of it on his ears: for it is very necessary that all the three should be bridled. But the iron is put in the mouth and on the light tongue; for there is most need to hold when the tongue is in talk, and has begun to run. For we often intend, when we begin to speak, to speak little, and well placed words; but the tongue is slippery, for it wadeth in the wet, and slides easily on from few to many words; and then, as Solomon saith, “Much talking, begin it ever so well, cannot be without sin;” for from truth it slides into falsehood, out of good into evil, and from moderation into excess; and from a drop waxeth a great flood, that drowns the soul. For with the flitting word the heart flits away, so that long time thereafter it cannot rightly collect itself again. These are St. Gregory’s words, in his dialogue. “As nigh as our mouth is to worldly speech, so far is it from God when we address him and intreat any favour of him. For this reason it is that we often cry to him and he withdraweth himself further from our voice, and will not listen to it, for it savours to him all of the world’s babbling, and of its trifling talk.” She who wishes God’s ear to be nigh her tongue, must retire from the world, else she may cry long ere God hear her. And he saith by Isaiah, “Though ye multiply your prayers to me, ye who play with the world, I will not hear you, but I will turn away when ye stretch out to me eyes or hands.”

Our dear lady, St. Mary, who ought to be an example to all women, was of so little speech that we do not find any where in Holy Writ that she spake more than four times. But, in compensation for her seldom speaking, her words were weighty, and had much force. Her first words that we read of were when she answered the angel Gabriel, and they were so powerful that as soon as she said “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word;” at this word, the Son of God, and very God, became man; and the Lord, whom the whole world could not contain, inclosed himself within the womb of the maiden Mary.

Her next words were spoken when she came and saluted Elizabeth, her kinswoman. And what power, thinkest thou, was manifested in those words? What? That a child, which was St. John, began to play in his mother’s womb when they were spoken. The third time that she spoke was at the wedding; and there, through her prayer, was water changed into wine. The fourth time was when she had missed her son and afterwards found him. And how great a miracle followed those words! That God Almighty bowed himself to a man! to a carpenter, and to a woman, and followed them, as subject to them, whither soever they would! Take heed now, and learn diligently from this, how great efficacy there is in speaking seldom.

“A man of many words,” saith the Psalmist, “shall never lead a right life on earth.” Therefore, he saith in another place, “I will keep my ways by keeping my tongue.” Keep I well my tongue, I may well hold on in the way toward heaven. For, as Isaiah saith, “The tillage of righteousness is silence.” Silence tilleth her, and she being tilled bringeth forth eternal food for the soul. For she is immortal, as Solomon teacheth, “Righteousness is immortal.” Therefore Isaiah joins together hope and silence, and saith that in them spiritual strength shall consist. “In silence and in hope shall be your strength.” Observe how well he saith it; for whoso is very quiet and keeps long silence may hope, with confidence, that when she speaks to God he will hear her. She may also hope that, through her silence, she shall also sing sweetly in heaven. This, now, is the reason of the joining: why Isaiah joineth hope and silence, and coupleth both together. Moreover, he saith, in the same passage, that in silence and in hope shall be our strength in God’s service against the wiles and temptations of the devil. And behold with what reason. Hope is a sweet spice within the heart, which spits out all the bitter that the body drinketh. And whoever cheweth spices should shut her mouth, that the sweet breath and the strength thereof may stay within. But she that openeth her mouth, with much talking, and breaketh silence, spits out hope entirely, and the sweetness thereof, with worldly words, and loseth spiritual strength against the fiend. For what maketh us strong to endure hardships in God’s service, and in temptations to wrestle stoutly against the assaults of the devil? What, but hope of high reward? Hope keeps the heart sound, whatever the flesh may suffer, or endure; as it is

said, “Were there no hope the heart would break.” Ah, Jesus, thy mercy! How stands it with those who are in that place where dwells all woe and misery, without hope of deliverance, and yet the heart may not break? Wherefore, as ye would keep hope within you, and the sweet breath of her that giveth strength to the soul —with mouth shut chew her within your heart. Blow her not out with babbling mouth nor with gaping lips. “See,” saith St. Jerome, “that ye have neither itching tongue nor ears; “that is to say, that ye neither desire to speak nor to hear worldly talk. Thus far we have spoken of your silence, and how your speech shall be infrequent. “Of silence and of speech there is but one precept;” and, therefore, in the writing they run both together. We shall now speak somewhat of your hearing, against evil speech; that ye may shut your ears against it, and, if need be, shut your eyes.

3. Of Hearing.

Against all evil speech, my dear sisters, stop your ears, and have a loathing of the mouth that vomiteth out poison. Evil speech is threefold, — poisonous, foul, idle: idle speech is evil; foul speech is worse; poisonous speech is the worst. All that from which no good cometh is idle and needless; “And of such speech,” saith our Lord, “shall every word be reckoned and account given,” why the one spoke it and the other listened to it. And yet, this is the least of the three evils. What! How, then, shall men give account of the three evils, and especially of the worst? What! How of the worst? that is, of poisonous and of foul speech; not only they who speak it, but they who listen to it. Foul speech is of lechery and of other uncleanness, which unwashen mouths speak at times. Men should stop the mouth of him who spitteth out such filth in the ears of any recluse, not with sharp words, but with hard fists. Poisonous speech is heresy, and direct falsehood, backbiting, and flattery. These are the worst. Heresy, God be thanked, prevaileth not in England; but lying is so evil a thing that St. Austin saith “That thou shouldest not tell a lie to shield thy father from death.” God himself saith that he is truth; and what is more against truth than is lying and falsehood? “The devil,” we are told, “is a liar, and the father of lies.” She, then, who moveth her tongue in lying, maketh of her tongue a cradle to the devil’s child, and rocketh it diligently as nurse. Backbiting and flattery, and instigating to do any evil, are not fit for man to speak; but they are the devil’s blast and his own voice. If these ought to be far from all secular men, — what! how ought recluses to hate and shun them, that they may not hear them? Hear them, I say, for she who speaketh with them is no recluse at all. “The serpent,” saith Solomon, “stingeth quite silently; and she who speaketh behind another what she would not before is not a whit better.” Nearest thou how Solomon eveneth a backbiter to a stinging serpent? Such she certainly is. She is of serpents’ kindred, and she who speaketh evil behind another beareth poison in her tongue. The flatterer blinds a man, and puts a prickle in the eyes of him whom he flattereth. The backbiter often cheweth man’s flesh on Friday, and pecketh with his black bill living carcases; as he that is the devil’s raven of hell; yet, if he would tear in pieces and pluck with his bill, rotten stinking flesh, as raven’s nature is; that is, if he would not speak evil against any but those who are corrupt and stink in the filth of their sins, it were yet the less sin: but he lighteth upon living flesh; teareth and dismembereth it; that is, he slandereth such as are alive in God. He is too greedy a raven, and too bold withal. On the other hand, observe now, of what kind are the two offices in which these two jugglers serve their lord, the devil of hell. It is a foul thing to speak of, but fouler to be it, and it is always so. They are the devil’s dirt-men, and wait continually in his privy. The office of the flatterer is to cover and to conceal the hole of the privy; and this he doth as oft as he with his flattery and with his praise concealeth and covereth from man his sin; for nothing stinketh fouler than sin, and he concealeth and covereth it, so that he doth not smell it. The backbiter discloseth and uncovereth it, and so openeth that filth that it stinketh widely. Thus, they are busy in this foul employment, and strive with each other about it. Such men stink of their stinking trade, and make every place stink that they come to. May our Lord shield you, that the breath of their stinking throat may never come nigh you. Other speech polluteth and defileth; but this poisoneth the heart and the ears both. That you may know them the better, listen to their marks.

There are three kinds of flatterers. The first are bad enough; yet the second are worse; but the third are worst of all. The first, if a man is good, praiseth him in his presence, and, without scruple, maketh him still better than he is; and, if he saith or doth well, he extolleth it too highly with excessive praise and commendation. The second, if a man is depraved and sins so much in word and deed, that his sin is so open that he may nowise wholly deny it, yet he, the flatterer, in the man’s own presence extenuates his guilt. “It is not, now,” saith he, “so exceeding bad as it is represented. Thou art not, in this matter, the first, nor wilt thou be the last. Thou hast many fellows. Let it be, my good man. Thou goest not alone. Many do much worse.” The third flatterer cometh after, and is the worse, as I said before, for he praiseth the wicked and his evil deeds; as he who said to the knight who robbed his poor vassals, “Ah, sir! truly thou doest well. For men ought always to pluck and pillage the churl; for he is like the willow, which sprouteth out the better that it is often cropped.” Thus doth the false flatterer blind those who listen to him, as I said before, and covereth their filth so that it may not stink: and that is a great calamity. For, if it stunk, he would be disgusted with it, and so run to confession, and there vomit it out, and shun it thereafter.

Backbiters, who bite other men behind, are of two sorts: but the latter sort is the worse. The former cometh quite openly, and speaketh evil of another, and speweth out his venom, as much as ever comes to his mouth, and throweth out, at once, all that the poisonous heart sends up to the tongue. But the latter proceedeth in a quite different manner, and is a worse enemy than the other; yet, under the cloak of a friend. He casteth down his head, and begins to sigh before he says anything, and makes sad cheer, and moralizes long without coming to the point, that he may be the better believed. But, when it all comes forth, then it is yellow poison. “Alas and alas!” she saith, “wo is me, that he or she hath got such a reputation. Enough did I try, but it availed me nothing, to effect an amendment here. It is long since I knew of it, but yet it should never have been exposed by me; but now it is so widely published by others that I cannot gainsay it. Evil they call it, and yet it is worse. Grieved and sorry 1 am that I must say it; but indeed it is so; and that is much sorrow. For many other things, he, or she, is truly to be commended, but not for this, and grieved I am for it. No man can defend them.” These are the devil’s serpents which Solomon speaketh of. May our Lord, by his grace, keep away your ears from their venomous tongues, and never permit you to smell that foul pit which they uncover, like as the flatterers cover

and hide it, as I said before. Let those whom it behoveth uncover it to themselves and hide it from others. That is an essential service, and not to those only who would hate that filth as soon as they should smell it. Now, my dear sisters, keep your ears far from all evil speaking, which is thus threefold, idle, foul, and venomous. People say of anchoresses that almost every one hath an old woman to feed her ears a prating gossip who tells her all the tales of the land a magpie that chatters to her of every thing that she sees or hears; so that it is a common saying, “From miln and from market, from smithy and from nunnery, men bring tidings.” Christ knows, this is a sad tale; that a nunnery, which should be the most solitary place of all, should be evened to those very three places in which there is the most idle discourse. But would to God, dear sisters, that all the others were as free as ye are of such folly.

I have now spoken separately of these three members — of eyes, of mouth, and of ears. Concerning ears, all that has now been said is for the behoof of anchoresses; for it is not a becoming thing that an anchoress should bear such a mouth; and it is much to be feared that she lends her ears sometimes to such mouths. We have now discoursed separately of sight, of speech, and of hearing, of each in order. Proceed we now to speak again of them all in common.

Of Sight, Speech, and Hearing in Common.

“I was jealous for Zion with great jealousy.”

“Understand, recluse,” he saith, “whose spouse thou art, and how jealous he is of all thy behaviour.” In Exodus. “I am,” of Himself, “the jealous God.” “I am jealous of thee, O Zion, my beloved, with much jealousy.” “The ear of jealousy heareth all things” saith the wise Solomon: Know thou right well, his ears are ever inclined to thee, and he heareth and seeth all that thou doest. His eye ever beholds thee, if thou makest any shew, or castest any loving looks towards vices. “I was jealous for Zion” — “Zion,” that is, “Mirror.” He calleth thee his mirror; and so entirely his that ye are none other’s. Wherefore, he saith in the Canticles, “Shew thy face to me,” but to no other. “Look upon me, if thou wilt have clear sight, with the eyes of thy heart. Look within, where I am and seek me not without thy heart. I am a bashful wooer. I will embrace my love

nowhere but in a retired place.” In such wise our Lord speaketh to his spouse. Let her never wonder, therefore, though he shun her, if she is not much alone; and so alone that she exclude every worldly thing, and every worldly joy from her heart, for it is God’s chamber, where disquiet cometh not into the heart, except of something that hath been either seen or heard, tasted or smelled, and felt outwardly. And know thou for a truth, that always the more the senses are dispersed outward, the less she turns her thoughts inward, and the more recluses look outward, they have less love of our Lord inwardly; and it is just the same with the other senses. Observe what St. Gregory saith, “She who guardeth carelessly her outward eyes, by God’s righteous judgment groweth blind in the inward eyes; so that she cannot see God with spiritual sight, nor by such sight know him; for, according as we know his great goodness, and feel his delicious sweetness, we love him more or less.” Wherefore, my dear sisters, be outwardly blind, as was the holy Isaac and the good Tibias; and God will give you, as he gave them, inward light to see him and know him; and, through this knowledge, to love him above all things; and then shall you see how the whole world is nothing, and how deceitful is its comfort; and, through that sight, ye shall see all the wiles of the devil; how he cheateth and deceiveth his wretched dupes.

You should look into yourself and see what sins of your own are yet to amend. You should sometimes consider the pain of hell, that you may abhor them, and flee the more resolutely from them. You should look, in spirit, to the blessedness of heaven, in order to kindle in your heart the desire to hasten thither. You should behold, as in a mirror, our Lady with her maidens, and all the army of angels, and all the high heavenly host, and Him above them all who blesseth them all, and is the crown of them all. This sight, dear sisters, shall be of more comfort to you than any worldly sight could be. Holy men who have experienced it know well that every worldly delight is worthless when compared with it. “To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna,” etc., “and a new name which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.” “It is a secret medicine,” saith St. John the Evangelist, in the Apocalypse; “it is a secret medicine which no man knoweth that hath not tasted it.” This taste, and this knowing, cometh of spiritual sight, and of spiritual hearing, and of spiritual speech, which they ought to possess who forego,

for the love of God, worldly hearing, earthly speech, and fleshly sights; and after the sight that now is, which is dim here, ye shall have, there above, the bright sight of God’s countenance, of which is all joy in the blessedness of heaven, much more than others. For the righteous God hath so judged that the reed of every one shall correspond to the toil and the trouble that she patiently endureth here for the love of him; and therefore, it is right and proper that anchoresses should have these two special gifts more than others, namely, swiftness and clearness of sight; swiftness, in requital of her being here so confined; clearness of sight, in compensation for her darkening herself here, and being unwilling either to see or to be seen of man. All who are in heaven shall be as swift as man’s thought now is, and as the sunbeam that darts from east to west, and as the eye openeth and shutteth; but an anchoress shut up here shall there be, if any may, both more light and more swift; and shall play in heaven in such wide confines — as it is said that in heaven is large pasture — that the body shall be wheresoever the spirit will, in an instant. Now this is the one special gift, which I said that anchoresses shall have more than others. The other special gift is that of sight. All who are in heaven see all things in God; but anchoresses, for their blindfolding here, shall there see and understand more clearly the hidden mysteries of God and his secret counsels, who care not now to know about things without, either with ears or with eyes.

Wherefore, my dear sisters, if any man requests to see you, ask him what good might come of it; for I see many evils in it, and no good; and if he insists immoderately, believe him the less; and if any one becometh so mad and so unreasonable that he puts forth his hand toward the window cloth, shut the window quickly and leave him; and as soon as any man falls into evil discourse that tends towards impure life, close the window directly and give him no answer at all, but go away with this verse, that he may hear it, “The wicked have told me foolish tales, but not according to thy law;” and go forth before your altar, with the Miserere. Do not reprove any man of such a character in any way but this, for, with the reproof, he might answer in such a way and blow so gently that a spark might be quickened into a flame. No seduction is so perfidious as that which is in a plaintive strain; as if one spoke thus: “I would rather suffer death, than indulge an impure thought with regard

to you; but had I sworn it, I could not help loving you; and yet I am grieved that you know it. But yet forgive me that I have told you of it; and, though I should go mad, thou shalt never after this know how it is with me.” And she forgives him, because he speaks thus fair, and then they talk of other matters. But, “the eye is ever toward the sheltering wood, wherein is that I love.” The heart is ever upon what was said before; and still, when he is gone, she often revolves such words in her thoughts, when she ought to attend diligently to something else. He afterwards seeketh an opportunity to break his promise, and swears that necessity forces him to do it; and thus the evil grows, the longer the worse; for no enmity is so bad as false friendship. An enemy who seems a friend is of all traitors the most treacherous. Wherefore, my dear sisters, give no such man any access to you to speak with you; for, as the Holy Scripture saith, “Their word spreads as doth a canker.” And instead of any answer, turn your back to him, and go away. Just as I said before, in no other way may you better save yourselves, and beat and conquer him. Observe, now, how rightly the lady in the Canticles, God’s beloved spouse, teacheth you by her words how you shall say, “Lo,” she saith, “I hear now my beloved speak; he calleth me “I must go:” and go ye, immediately, to your dear and beloved spouse, and make your complaint in his ears who affectionately calls you to him with these words, “Arise, hie thee hitherward, and come to me, my beloved, my dove, my beauteous, my fair spouse.” “Let me see thy dear face, and thy lovely countenance. Turn away from others. Let thy voice sound in my ears. Say, who hath offended thee? Who hath hurt thee my dear? Sing in my ears; since thou desirest only to see my countenance, speak only to me. Thy voice is sweet to me, and thy countenance is comely.” Whence it is added, “thy voice,” etc. These are now two things that are much loved: a sweet voice, and fair countenance: whoso hath both these, such doth Jesus Christ choose to be his beloved and his bride. If thou wilt be such, let no man see thy countenance, nor blithely hear thy speech; but keep them both for Christ, for thy beloved spouse, as he bade thee before; as thou desirest that thy speech may seem sweet to him, and thy countenance fair, and to have him to be thy beloved who is a thousand times brighter than the sun.

Now, hearken attentively, my dear sisters, to a quite different speech, and contrary to the former. Hearken now how Jesus Christ speaketh as in wrath, and saith, as in angry derision and in scorn, to the anchoress that ought to be his beloved, and yet seeketh outward delights and comforts, with eye or with tongue. In the Canticles, the words are these: “If thou knowest not thyself, thou fair among women, go out and go after the herds of goats, and feed thy kids beside the herdsmen’s tents, of boughs and leaves.” This is a cruel word, and an angry word withal, which our Lord saith in displeasure and scorn to prying, listening, gossipping, and prating anchoresses. It is wrapped up and concealed, but I will unfold it. “Take good heed, now,” saith our Lord, “if thou knowest not thyself; that is, if thou knowest not whose spouse thou art, — queen of heaven, if thou art true to me as a spouse ought to be. If thou hast forgotten this, and accountest it of little value — go out, and depart,” he saith. Whither? “Out of my high place, out of my great honour, and follow the herds of goats,” saith he. What are herds of goats? They are the lusts of the flesh, which stink as a goat, in the presence of our Lord. “If thou hast now forgotten thy dignity as a lady, — go and follow those goats, that is, follow the lusts of the flesh. Now, then, come and feed thy kids;” that is, as if he said, “Feed thine eyes with looking about, and thy tongue with prating, thy ears with hearing, thy nose with smelling, thy flesh with soft feeling.” Those five senses he calleth kids; for, as from a kid, that hath sweet flesh, cometh a stinking goat, or a buck; just so, from a young, sweet looking, or a sweet hearing, or a soft feeling, waxeth a stinking lust, and a foul sin. Has any peering anchoress ever experienced this, who is always thrusting her beak outward, like an untamed bird in a cage? Has the cat of hell ever clutched at her, and caught with his claws her heart or head? Yes, truly; and drew out afterwards her whole body, with hooks of crooked and keen temptations; and made her to lose both God and man, with open shame and sin. A grievous enough loss! Always to her utter ruin has an anchoress thus peered out. “Go out,” saith he, in anger. “Go out, as did Dinah, Jacob’s daughter, to utter ruin that is to say, “leave me and my comfort which is within the breast, and go, seek without the world’s vile gratifications, which shall end in pain and sorrow. Take to it, and leave me, since thou preferrest it: for thou shalt not by any means have both these two comforts, mine and the

world’s — the joy of the Holy Ghost, and the gratification of the flesh together. Choose now one of these two; for thou must quit the other.” “If thou know not thyself, thou fair among women,” saith our Lord, — thou fair among women; nay, among angels, thou might add thereto; thou shalt surely be hereafter fair, not only among women, but among angels. “Thou, my dear spouse,” saith our Lord, “shalt thou follow goats a-field, which are the lusts of the flesh?” Field is the wide range of the will. “Shalt thou in this wise follow goats over the field? Thou shouldest, in thy heart’s bower, entreat me for kisses, as my beloved one, that saith to me, in the love book, that is, ‘kiss me, my beloved, with kiss of thy mouth, sweetest of mouths.” This kiss, dear sisters, is a sweetness and a delight of heart, so immeasurably delicious and sweet, that every savour in the world is bitter when compared with it: but our Lord, with his kiss, kisseth no soul that loveth anything but him, and those things, for his sake, that assist us to obtain him: do thou, therefore, God’s spouse, who might hear what has been said above, how sweetly thy spouse speaketh, and calleth thee to him so affectionately, and thereafter how he changes the strain, and speaketh most wrathfully, if thou goest out, — keep thee in thy chamber: feed not thou thy goat kids without; but keep thy hearing, thy speech, and thy sight within; and shut fast their gates — mouth, eyes, and ears. For in vain is she shut up within your wall who openeth those gates, except to God’s messenger, and the soul’s consolation. Above every thing, then, as Solomon exhorteth thee, and as I said long since, in the beginning of this discourse, my dear sisters, guard well your heart. The heart is well kept, if the mouth, eyes, and ears are wisely kept. For these, as I said before, are the wardens of the heart; and if the wardens go out, the heart is ill-guarded. These are now the three senses which I have spoken of. Speak we now briefly of the other two: Speaking, however, is not a sense of the mouth, as tasting is, though they are both in the mouth.

4. Of Smell

Smell of nose is the fourth of the five senses. Of this sense Saint Austin saith, “About fragrant smells, I do not concern myself much. If they are present, in God’s name, they are welcome; if they are absent, I

care not.” Our Lord, however, by Isaiah, threateneth with the stench of hell those who take delight here in carnal odours. “On the other hand, they shall smell celestial odours, who, in this life, had stench and rank smells of sweat from iron or from hair-cloth which they wore, or from sweaty garments, or foul air in their houses.” But be warned of this, my dear sisters, that sometimes the fiend maketh something to stink that ye ought to use, because he would have you to avoid it: and, at other times, the deceiver maketh a sweet smell to come, as if it were from heaven, from something concealed, that ye cannot see, as from the dust of hidden seeds; in order that ye may think that God, on account of your holy life, sends you his grace and his comfort, and so think well of yourselves, and become proud. The fragrance that cometh from God, comforteth the heart rather than the nostrils. These and other delusions, with which he beguileth many men, should be rendered ineffective by holy water, and by the sign of the holy rood. Any one who reflected how God himself was annoyed in this sense would patiently bear that annoyance. The hill of Calvary, where our Lord hanged, was the place of execution, where bodies often lay rotting on the ground unburied, and loathsome to the smell. He, as he hanged, might, amidst all his other sufferings, have had their putrescent odour in his nostrils. In like manner he was hurt in all his other senses. In his sight, when he saw the tears of his dear Mother, and of Saint John the Evangelist, and of the other Maries; and when he beheld how all his dear disciples fled from him and left him alone, as a stranger, he himself wept three times with his fair eyes. He quite patiently suffered himself to be blindfolded, that, when his eyes were thus in derision blindfolded, he might give the anchorite a clear sight of heaven. Though thou, for his love, and in remembrance of this, shut thine eyes on the things of the earth, to bear him company, it is no great wonder. Upon one occasion, men with great cruelty hit him on the mouth, when they struck his cheeks and spit upon him in contempt; — and an anchoress is, for a single word, out of her wits! When he bore patiently that the Jews, as they buffeted him, closed up his dear mouth with their accursed fists,surely thou, for the love of him, and for thine own great behoof, might close up thy tattling mouth with thy lips. Add to this that he tasted gall on his tongue, to teach anchoresses that they ought never more to grumble on account of either meat or drink, be it ever so stale; if it may be eaten, let her eat, and devoutly thank God for it; and if it may not, let her grieve that she must ask for more palatable food. But rather than that asking should give rise to any offence she ought to die, as a martyr, in her discomfort. Nevertheless, we must avoid death as far as possible without sin. But we should sooner die than commit any sin, — and is it not great sin to cause men to say, “This anchoress is dainty, and she asks much”? And it is still worse if they may say that she is a grumbler, and undisciplined, domineering, and difficult to please. If she were living in the world, she would sometimes have to be content with less and worse. It is very unreasonable to come into a religious house, into God’s prison, willingly and freely, to a place of discomfort, to seek therein ease and mastery, and more deference than she might have had, properly enough, in the world. Think, then, O anchoress, of what thou didst intend and seek, when thou didst forsake the world, at thy entrance into the cloister to weep for thine own and other men’s sins, and renounce all the pleasures of this life, in order to embrace, in the fulness of joy, thy blessed Bridegroom in the eternal life of heaven. He, the heavenly Lord, heard with his ears, all the taunts, and the reproach, and the scorn, and the shame, that ears might hear; and he saith of himself, for our instruction, “I held myself quite still, as one dumb and deaf doth that hath no answer, though men evil intreat and slander him.” This is thy Bridegroom’s saying; and do thou, happy anchoress, who art his happy bride, learn it earnestly of him, that thou mayst know it, and be able to say it in truth.

I have now spoken of your four senses, and of the comfort wherewith Christ comforteth you through his example when he suffered in his senses, as often as you, in your senses, feel any pain. Now attend while I speak of the fifth, which has most need of comfort: for in it the pain is greatest, that is, in Feeling; and the pleasure also, if it so happen.

5. Of Touch or Feeling.

The fifth sense is in feeling. This one sense is in all the other senses, and throughout the whole body, and therefore needs to be the better guarded. Our Lord knew it well, and therefore he chose to endure most suffering in that sense, to comfort us if we suffer pain therein; and to

turn us away from the pleasure which the lusts of the flesh demand; and especially in feeling, more than in the others.

Our Lord in this sense had pain, not in one place only, but in all; not only over all his body, but inwardly, in his blessed soul. In this he had the sting of sorrow and of grievous pain; and grief made him sorely to sigh. This sting was threefold: which, as it were three spears, smote him to the heart. One was the weeping of his mother and the other Maries, who flowed and melted all in tears. Another was that his own beloved disciples no longer believed him, nor held him for God, because he did not help himself in his great suffering, and they all fled from him and deserted him as a stranger. The third sting was the great sorrow and pity that he felt for the lost condition of those who dragged him to death; in that he saw, in regard to them, all his labour lost that he laboured on earth. These three stings were in his soul. “In his body, in every limb,” as Saint Austin saith, “He suffered sundry pains, and died through all his body, as before over all his body he sweated the sweat of death:” “And here,” saith Saint Bernard, “he wept not with his eyes only, but with all his limbs.” For so full of anguish was that forced sweat that came from his body, in prospect of the excruciating death that he was to suffer, that it seemed like red blood. Moreover, so copiously and so rapidly flowed that bloody sweat from his blessed body that the streams ran down to the ground. “And his sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground.” Such horror had he in his human flesh, in contemplation of the severe precious pains which he was to endure. Nor is that a very great wonder; for the more lively the flesh is, the pain and hurt of it is the more and sorer. A little hurt in the eye giveth more pain than a great one in the heel, for the flesh is less quick there. And the flesh of every man is dead flesh compared to what the flesh of God was, as it was taken of the tender maiden; and nothing was ever therein that could deaden it; but it was ever equally alive with the living Godhead that dwelt in it. Wherefore, the pain in his flesh was greater and sorer than any man ever suffered in his flesh; because his flesh was the most tender and most quick of all flesh. Consider the example which follows: —

A man, for an illness that he hath, is not let blood in the diseased but in the whole side, in order to heal the diseased side. But in the whole world, which was in a fever and in the berebarde, there was not found among all mankind any sound part that might be let blood, but God’s body only, who let himself blood on the cross; and not in the arm only, but in five places, that he might heal all mankind of the sickness which the five senses had awakened. Lo! thus the sound and the quick part drew the evil blood out from the unsound, and so healed the sick part. By blood is meant sin in Holy Scripture; the reasons whereof are plainly sheaved in what follows. But take notice of this, my dear sisters, that your beloved Bridegroom, who is so worthy of love, the Lord and Saviour of Heaven, Jesus, the son of God, the ruler of the world, when he was thus let blood, think of what sort was his diet that day of the blood-letting! So baleful, and so bitter! and even those for whom he bled brought him no wine, nor ale, nor water; even when he said Sitio, and complained of thirst on the cross, but brought him bitter gall. Where was ever so poor refreshment given to any one when let blood? And yet, he found no fault; but received it meekly, to give a lesson to his people, — and he did yet more for an example to us, — he put his dear mouth to it, and tasted, and took knowledge of it, though he might not use it. Who is there, then, after this, and especially what anchoress is there, who murmurs if she has either meat or drink not to her taste? And be assured that whoever she is that murmurs, she still offereth to our Lord that bitter pittance, as the Jews then did, and is the Jews’ accomplice, to offer him in his thirst a drink of sour gall. His thirst is nothing but yearning for the health of our souls; and the murmuring of a bitter and sour heart is to him more sour and bitter now than the gall was then. And thou, his beloved bride, be not the Jews’ associate, nor the Jews’ partner, to pour out to him such drink, but bear him company, and drink with him cheerfully all that seems to the flesh sour or bitter: that is, pain and hardship, and sorrow, and every discomfort, and he will repay it to thee, as he is a faithful companion,with the health-cup of heaven.

Thus was Jesus Christ, the Almighty God, sorely pained in all his five senses, and particularly in the last, that is, in feeling. For his flesh was all as quick as the tender eyes; and you guard this sense, that is, bodily feeling, more carefully than all the other senses. God’s hands were nailed to the cross. By those nails I entreat you, anchoresses — not you but others, for there is no need, my dear sisters — keep your hands within your windows. For handling or any touching between a man and an anchoress is a thing so unnatural, and so lamentable a deed — so shameful, and such a naked sin, and to all the world so hateful, and so great a scandal, that there is no need to speak or write against it; for, without writing, all the indecency is too apparent. God knows that I would a great deal rather see you all three, my dear sisters, women most dear to me, hang on a gibbet to avoid sin, than see one of you give a single kiss to any man on earth, in the way I mean. I say nothing of the greater impropriety — not only mingling hands, but putting hands outward, except it be for necessity. This is courting God’s anger, and inviting his displeasure. To look at her own white hands doth harm to many a recluse that hath them too fair, — as those who are idle. They should scrape up the earth every day, out of the pit in which they must rot. God knows the pit doth much good to many an anchorite. For, as Solomon saith, “Remember the end, and thou shalt never do amiss.” She who hath her death always, in a manner, before her eyes, of which the pit reminds her, if she meditate well on the doom of Doomsday, when the angels shall tremble, and of the eternal and dreadful pains of hell, and, above all, on the sufferings of Jesus Christ, how he was pained, as has been said above, in all his five senses, she will not lightly follow the inclinations of the flesh, nor, after the desires of sense, draw upon her any capital sin, with her five senses. Enough has now been said of the five senses, which are, as it were, wardens outwardly of the heart, in which is the life of the soul, as we said above in the beginning, where Solomon said, “Keep your heart with all diligence, etc.” Now, thanks be to Christ, are the two parts completed. Let us now proceed, with God’s help, to the third.

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