BOOK of EXERCISES
 for the
SPIRITUAL LIFE

  Abbot Garcia Jimenez De Cisneros, O.S.B.
Prol., CHAPTERS 31-48

 

 Benedictine Abbot,  Moretto, 1520


Written in the Year 1500 by Abbot Garcia Jimenez De Cisneros, O.S.B. Engl. modified from the translation from the original Spanish by E. Allison Peers Monastery of Montserrat, 1929

PART FOUR

CHAPTER 31

That great learning is knowledge but not wisdom, and that it is in no way essential to contemplation.

ALTHOUGH many saints and learned doctors have spoken of contemplation with great subtlety; as for example, Saint Gregory in his Morals and Saint Bernard in his book on the Song of Songs, and Richard of Saint Victor in his book on Contemplation, and many others, it is the learned who will have recourse to such treatises. For ourselves, we shall treat briefly of contemplation in this place for those that are not learned, albeit we have spoken at some length hereof already.

        First, we set down this fact, that great wealth of knowledge is not necessary to the contemplative, for much science and learning, and knowledge of the Divine law and of Holy Scripture, though they at’ a great help to such as desire to rise to the height of contemplation, are at times very hurtful to man likewise. The which thing comes to pass, not becau of any inherent evil in them, but by reason of th puffing up which they cause in many. By one wa alone can a man cone to true contemplation, namely, by the way of humility, even as the apostle says: Si quis inter vos videtur sapiens esse in hoc seculo: stultus fiat ut sit sapiens. That is: Let a man humble [p.176] his understanding, counting himself a fool with respect to Divine wisdom, and as one unable to comprehend the judgment of the works of God. Hence is it that there is nothing which has barred the way of learned men to the acquisition of contemplation so much as their lack of humility. For a man must bring his understanding into captivity and into sub-mission before the mysteries of the Redemption which was wrought by our great Redeemer, the humility of His actions, and the example which He has left us. And in truth he that enters not by this low and humble gate is a thief, and his labour is in vain. For the Lord Himself says : He that walks with his head on high, in the vanity of his understanding, — that is, esteeming his understanding and knowledge very greatly, — and disdains to become in this matter as a little child: such a man will never be able to enter by this gate of humility, but will stumble and turn back, even as did those disciples of our Redeemer of whom it is written that they went away through inability to understand Him when He taught them mysteries concerning His Body. The same thing has happened oft-times to men of great learning. Would to God that they had never: come to such learning, but had ever remained in their. simplicity, even as did their mothers, who had no learning soever. Not through any fault that is in learning itself, which is very profitable, and is of great advantage to one that uses it humbly and in the grace of God. But by [p.177]

reason of their pride, for, as the apostle says, learning puffs a man up. This happens to persons according to the complexion and variety of their dispositions; for we know by experience that the best wine is of no little harm to such as are in a fever, even as a sword will do harm to one that is mad and may kill himself therewith. We see likewise that light is hurtful to those whose eyes are weak, though it is pleasant, sweet and delightful to those whose eyes are strong. Even so, learning is very hurtful to a man that is ill-disposed and has little order in his habits.

CHAPTER 32

What persons are best suited for contemplation.

SAINT Gregory says, in the sixth book of his Morals, that there are some men, whether naturally or by temperament or habit, that are so strongly inclined: to exterior things and worldly occupations, that they cannot soar to the heights of contemplation, but are much better suited to an active life; and if such men as these were to strive after contemplation they would fall into great errors and blasphemies, because the. more leisure they have for quiet meditation the less they can resist the storms and passions of their hearts. Wherefore these should find employment in the active life.

        Others there are whose spirits are by nature calm and tranquil: if active work oppresses them they quickly break down under it, but in meditation upon the works of God and the heavenly life they live with great happiness. Considering these things, and meditating with all humility upon their salvation, they withdraw their minds as far as they are able from immoderate activity. Many times men have fallen beneath the burden of the occupations of this life when they might have lived happily in quiet contemplation of God. Being occupied, however, in outward things, they have been apt rather to faint than to reap advantage from them.

        Others again there are who, whether by habit, or by the strength which comes from contemplation, or from the excellence of the love which they have for God, or from a temperament inherited from their parents, have a spirit which is apt and versatile, so that they may use the one hand, as it were, as easily as the other, — that is to say, they can give themselves, now to the active life, now to the contemplative. From such men as these it is fitting to elect prelates.

        Those that are in the first of these classes and divisions,—namely, those who by temperament or habit are best suited to outward activities, — do oft-times err if theyleave these outward occupations and practices and plunge into profound meditation. Further it happens frequently that those in the second class are persons that are simple and have no learning; and these of a certainty may be left alone to meditate continually upon their salvation, and be given no worldly occupation soever. Hence it is manifest that because a man is simple he is not to be forbidden the contemplative life; for we have seen, and do still see by experience, in devout hermits, and also occasionally in women, that they have drawn more profit from this contemplative life, and grown to love God more deeply thereby, than many notable clerks have done and learned religious. The reason of this, according to Gerson in his Mount of Contemplation, is that the contemplative life is attained more quickly by simple and devout humility than by great learning; [p.180] even as Solomon says when speaking of the wisdom of God, that it walks with the simple, and its conversation is with them; and elsewhere we are commanded to seek God in the simplicity of our hearts, because He Himself is most simple and by simplicity is found.

CHAPTER 33

How, according to the doctors, there is a great difference between wisdom and knowledge.

A great difference is made by holy men between knowledge and wisdom, and principally by the blessed Saint Bernard. For knowledge belongs to the understanding, and is related to it alone, but wisdom belongs to the affections; whence according to its name, wisdom (sapientia) signifies a science which is of great sweetness (sapida scientia), the which sweet ness has to do with the affection, desire, appetite and will, wherein wisdom consists. Wherefore a man may have great science or knowledge, but little or no wisdom. The reason for this, according to Gerson, is that he may have no relish or affection for that which he knows. This Gerson explains by examples. A man may know the nature of honey. becau se from time to time he has heard it spoken of, or has read of it in books, without ever having tasted its sweetness. Further, physicians know the nature of diseases, and frequently know them better than patients or those that suffer from them; but with respect to the pain thereof it is clear that the patient knows more than the physician, not by any science, but by experience. In this way a man may have great science, or knowledge, concerning some  person, yet without any feeling of love or of hatred, of pleasure or of displeasure, in regard to such person. And on the other hand a man may conceive great affection or pleasure for a thing without great know-ledge thereof; and according to this we can understand and realise that a man may have great wisdom with-out knowledge either great or clear, and contrariwise great and clear knowledge or science without great wisdom. From this we see plainly the difference that is between men that are simple and devout and learned men who are less devout, with respect to contemplation. [p.182]

CHAPTER 34

How the contemplative life must begin with the labour of the active life.

THE first degree which pertains to the state of beginners and imperfect souls is that of humble confession, together with penance, whgeby a man mortifies within himself worldly love and evil desires, and likewise unlawful motions and evil habits. In this way he chastises and subdues his flesh, that it may be subject to the soul, and not rebellious; and this he does by fasts, vigils, abstinences, afflictions, tears, groans and many sighs, and by bodily exercise and labour imposed upon him by holy obedience. He that desires quickly to experience the perfect and contemplative life before practising such penance, exercise and labour, deceives himself, and is to be compared to a man that with one bound would reach the summit of a lofty mountain. Where-fore, according to Saint Gregory and other saints, the active life, which is rooted in bodily afflictions and bodily labours, must be lived before the contemplative, and by means of it the path which leads to,, the contemplative life is made ready.

        Of this we have a figure in the story of Jacob’i serving seven years for Rachel, who is here a type of the contemplative life. Nevertheless he was first offered [p.184] her sister Leah, by whom is symbolised the active life. And here it is to be noted, that, as Gerson says, youths who are still full of carnal temptations and vices, and likewise great sinners who have squandered a large part of their lives in sin, cannot and must not attempt to give themselves wholly to the perfect life of contemplation, without practising the exercises of the active life aforementioned. For while they would be supposing that their meditations were of God, and in a secret place were making prayers that were pure, they would rather be thinking more often upon their evil inclinations, and would become not better than before but worse. For this reason Seneca counsels that a man should not dwell alone for a long time, and for the same cause all holy men and philosophers reprove idleness. Yet both Seneca and the same holy men praise solitude and leisure for contemplation in such as are well schooled thereto, that they may serve God therein with the greater freedom. This has been done by many devour hermits and good religious. [p.183]

CHAPTER 35

That some, to whom is given a singular grace, are not to be imitated by all.

TO some, by the especial grace of God, it has been given to dwell in solitude from their youth up, as it was given, for example, to our father Saint Benedict. Yet in his Rule Saint Benedict does not counsel all to live alone, nor do other holy doctors do so, saying rather that none should do this, or attempt it, and that a singular grace which has been given to this man or to that must not be made into an argument or be imitated by all. And they who have at times dared to disregard such advice, and have sought the solitude and leisure of the hermit, without first labouring and practising the active life, receiving sound instruction and growing accustomed to life in a community, have been deceived and fallen miserably.

        The reason, according to the aforementioned Gerson, is that they have endeavoured to fly before they have had wings, and to engage in warfare with the most terrible of enemies before overcoming adversaries less formidable, namely, the world and the flesh. Wherefore Gerson adds that he has no great confidence in certain hermits of his own day, who assert that they have progressed greatly through solitude, and he thinks the same to be true of women and other persons living as solitaries. He says like-wise, writing to his own sisters : “ you know, most beloved sisters, how great is the need which you have suffered up to this present, and how great have been your labours, whereof nevertheless some of you had need before you could become solitaries and live in secret and give yourselves completely to meditation upon God in the retreats of hermits and recluses. For we may live in solitude, not only in forests and desert places, but wheresoever we find a place meet and fit for withdrawal from the world and for avoidance of its bustle, cares and occupations”.

        For this reason we see that in religious orders which are fitly governed, beginners and novices are given much work to do in learning the Divine offices, in labours of other kinds, in vigils, fasts, and chanting, that by means of these things they may have less time for unruly thoughts, concerning other things, which else might crowd upon them. But others who are well accustomed to such penances as these, and who have learned to overcome temptations and carnal and evil thoughts, are permitted to be in solitude, and given no work, for a greater space of time. Some, on the other hand, are of a temperament and nature suited to strife, whereby they may overcome and subdue their temptations, yet are unsuited to the perfect life of contemplation: these it is well to occupy continually in the labours of the active life. And many kinds of persons belong to this class: whereas there are others who are greatly impeded by the active life, and find it a great burden. Again it comes to pass that certain persons are so well ordered and governed by nature, or perchance by the especial grace of God, that they make greater progress in a day by giving themselves wholly to contemplation than others will make in a year.

        Yet I do not mean that a man should apply him-self to one kind of life in such a way that he may never be occupied in the other, whether for a longer or a shorter time, according to the season, and according as he finds himself able to make progress. He must never give himself so completely to the active life that he cannot think upon God and upon his conscience, confess his sins and do penance. And on the other hand he must not give himself to contemplation so as never to do work that is necessary. That is to say that in the same person Martha must ever be present with Mary, and Mary with Martha, to a greater or a less degree, according as we have said. The manner of life of a man will take its name, however, from that kind of life to the duties whereof he chiefly devotes himself. [p.188]

CHAPTER 36

That the love of God is both the beginning of the contemplative life and the end thereof.

THE root and the beginning of the contemplative life must be the love of God : that is, for love of Him the life of this world must be abandoned, together with all exterior cares and occupations. The contemplative must give himself to God alone, for he that does the contrary deceives himself, and oft-times comes not to the goal of his desire, unless he amends his ways and does penance. As there are some who enter the religious life or devote themselves to study, not from love of God, but from love of idleness, that they may have an excuse for fleeing from the labours of this world, or at times that they may gain a livelihood, or through pride and vanity and the desire to be held notable and devout religious, or through curiosity and the mere desire for knowledge, as was the case with the great philosophers. Furthermore, the end of the contemplative life must be the love of God; that is, from love and affection towards God a man must strive to progress from that which is good to that which is better, and desire to withdraw himself from all other work and occupation. And this withdrawal I understand principally of worldly activity, which is a notable [p.189] impediment to contemplation. I know well that a short time spent in moderate employment is frequently necessary and of great advantatge to the contemplative life and it keeps a man from sloth and from the evils of melancholy.

        That the end of the contemplative life is Divine love is borne out by those words of the Apostle: Pleniludo lea is est dilectio. That is to say : the end of the Divine law is love. Wherefore, in the law of God, which is called wisdom or theology, that man should be accounted the most excellent master or doctor who has the deepest love for God. For such a man lives a more perfect life and his state is nobler when he loves more ardently and more deeply; and, since the contemplative life is that which is most fitting to the adept therein, as leading to the greatest love for God, as though it were a school or university for the teaching of this are of love, therefore is this life of contemplation most highly praised and most generally approved in Holy Scripture and by holy doctors, and principally by Jesus Christ, the true God of love, when He declared that Mary had chosen the better part. What, then, is this better part? It is certainly that which she chose by sitting at the feet of the Lord, giving ear to His words, and finding herself, as she listened, enkindled with love for Him.

        Yet you must note that many times one man may have more love for God in the active life than another in the contemplative life; and in this case [p.190] the active is the more perfect, albeit his state has in itself less of perfection than the contemplative state; as far as his own life is concerned it is more perfect than that of the contemplative, albeit the contemplative is in general more perfect than the active. Wherefore it seems that such as think the end of the contemplative life to be nothing but knowledge and the acquiring of new truths are deceived; for the true end thereof is the love of God, since in it a man may taste how sweet is God and how gracious. And indeed this taste, or sweetness, or spiritual manner of perception, may be called a mode of knowledge, for such a love is knowledge, even as Saint Augustine says. This knowledge is of such a kind, and so secret, that it may be known of none save of him that has it; for neither by words nor by instruction can it be explained or demonstrated to another; just as we are accustomed to say of a severe illness that none can know the pain thereof save him that suffers it.     . [p.191]

CHAPTER 37

In what consists the perfection of the contemplative life, described by a similitude of worldly love.

BEFORE going further, it is now fitting to explain in some manner wherein consists the perfection of the contemplative life. Although in the foregoing chapter we said that the love of God was the end of this contemplative life, it may nevertheless be added, in the words of Gerson, that this same end is, and should be, that of all our works, for all that we do must be done and ordered for the love of God. Wherefore I must here set down certain conditions of the contemplative life, not that I have myself sufficient knowledge thereof, but rather as a blind man speaking of colours, repeating such things as the saints in their writings have left us, and leaving the rest to those who are more expert in these matters.

        And that we may the more easily apprehend what is that love of God to which the perfection of the contemplative life will lead us, I would demonstrate this by means of its contrary, — that is to say, by means of worldly love, which we know better and which is more familiar to us than Divine love. Let us see, then, what this worldly love can accomplish in a man who is deeply engulfed therein, — in the love of silver, gold, honour, dignity or the lusts of the flesh. It is certain that by reason of such love a man first becomes weak, through the desire of possessing that on which all his love is set, and this overdeeply. Next, he fixes his mind and all his heart and his understanding upon the object of his love so firmly that he can think of nothing else save of that object. And this in such a way that he forgets him-self and loses all shame, and there is nothing that can keep him back or withdraw him from that which he loves, — neither trial, nor suffering, nor danger, nor death, nor the counsel of his friends, nor the fear of God, nor all His judgments. Sleeping, he dreams of the object of his love; waking, he cares neither to hear nor to speak of aught else, so that he loses, in some degree, his reason, and becomes as one that is inebriated or passionate of mad. Nothing can separate or hinder a man from such love; nor is there aught that he would shrink from or refuse to suffer if only he might attain to the object of his worldly love, so greatly is he enkindled and even tortured by it. Yea, he forgets all that is good, whether in this present life or in the life to come; so that, if any speaks to him by chance of Paradise, or death, or Hell, it seems to him to be a dream or a fable. Nor can he receive or retain a spiritual thought, for howsoever short a space, for worldly or carnal love is lord over him, and drives such meditations from him instantly. [p.192]

CHAPTER 38

What kind of love of God the contemplative ought to have.

A  CCORDING to the example which we have given A let us also consider in like manner how the love of God should be such as to make a man despise the world entirely, and forget it completely, even as worldly love makes a man forget God. For this love should be so strong and ardent, and so deeply rooted in the heart, that he who is possessed thereby should be able to think of nothing else, whether voluntarily, spontaneously or freely; nor should he fear contempt, or take note of abuse or threats or persecutions, or even of death, if only he have this love of God. And all things that he sees and hears in this world, and that are brought to his memory, should be to him as a dream or a fable; he should reckon them as nothing by comparison with God and His glory; and, in a word, he should be considered in the judgment of the world as one that is drunken or mad; for he cares but little for the things of this world, esteeming them less highly even than the things of God and of Heaven are esteemed by such as are absorbed in the love of this world.

        This, I say, would be that perfect love of God which the contemplative must labour to attain by [p.194] way of the contemplative life. And one living in a state of such love would be rightly said to have died and to be crucified to the world; for nothing can hinder him from living to God alone and from sleeping to the vanities of this world. Only to the good things of eternity would he be awakened, and all the senses of his body would be closed and asleep to the doings of men of this world, and opened only to the joys of. the saints. It is this which, according to holy doctors, is figured by the example of Moses who, when he desired to speak with God, entered into a thick cloud. For by this we learn that he who would possess the love of God must enter likewise into such a cloud, which will cause him to forget the things pertaining to this world, and neither to see nor to hear them.

        Let us now set forth the manner wherein to attain this love which is the end of the contemplative life. He that has reached it has already climbed the summit of the mount where Christ was transfigured with His three disciples. Here he speaks with God even as did Moses when he received the law. Here he is lifted up in spirit, or rather above his spirit. Here he has his conversation in the heavens. Here he lives by love, walking in the light of joy and tranquillity without any darkening of smoke. But alas, brethren ! To how few is given this grace, and for how short a time it continues while we are still in this place of exile ! [p.195]

CHAPTER 39

Of two manners of silence and solitude.

          CCORDiNG to the diversity of states and the variety A of the qualities of men, each one may choose for himself a secret place wherein he may take his rest in peace and silence; yet in very truth our chiefest secret place of silence must be within the soul rather than without. That is to say that the soul must cast out from itself and from its dwelling-place all worldly and human cares, and all vain and hurtful activities, and everything that may hinder it from coming to the place whither it journeys.

        At times it comes to pass that a man is alone in the body and withdrawn fromsompany of others, yet none the less he suffers phantasies, and cogitations and thoughts of melancholy, and finds within himself most heavy and burdensome company. And such phantasies engender in him delirium and turmoil, and cause him to speak much and be garrulous within his understanding. For the eyes of his understanding see first one thing, and afterwards another: now he is led into the kitchen, now to the market: before him are brought carnal and unclean delights, dances, songs, women of great beauty and such like vanities. And these things lead him into evil and sin, even as Saint Jerome confesses of himself humbly. For [p.196] when he was in the desert, and had no company save the wild beasts and scorpions, nevertheless he was from time to time led by his imagination to the dances and companionship of Roman women.

        Furthermore, these phantasies cause the soul that is alone to become impassioned, and strive with persons that are absent as though they were present, abusing and insulting them. Again, a man that is in this state will in imagination count his money, trade therewith and amass great treasure. Or again, his desires will carry him over the sea, through various countries, to positions of great dignity, and so forth. With such phantasies and follies as these a man that is alone in the body is oft-times filled.

        Such a man as this is in no wise alone or in solitude, save in an outward sense; nor indeed is the devout soul alone that is disposed to contemplation, — nay, it is never less alone. And great also is the difference between the absence of these two kinds of solitude. The devout and contemplative soul is not alone, for it is in the best of all company, most profitable and full of delight,-that is to say, in the company of God and of His saints, of holy desires and devout and holy meditations. The other is in companionship that is very hurtful and in nowise profitable, since it wanders from place to place without advantage. [p.197]

CHAPTER 40

Which discusses the manner wherein the contemplative life is of profit to him that leads it.

FOR three reasons, or motives, among others, some persons marvel at a man who gives himself to the life of contemplation. The first of these is because, as they say, contemplatives profit none save themselves. Secondly, because they think that the contemplative man seeks to enquire and know over-much, and to soar exceeding high. Thirdly, because many are deceived and becc foolish and melancholy. To these three reasons, if indeed they may be given that name, Gerson makes reply by referring to the holy doctors who speak of this matter abundantly, subtly and profoundly. To the first he re-plies that a contemplative reaps far more profit for himself than an active, and therein is more pleasing to God. And this suffices, for there is nothing, after God, which I should love more than myself, or more than the whole of the world. Wherefore I must choose what pleases myself, namely, to accept the life whereby I shall be the more acceptable to God; whereas, if I were to save another, and win some small merit thereby, I might myself suffer detriment and bring about my damnation.

This is to be understood as referring to one who is so far free that he can follow the one kind of life as easily as the other. I say this for the sake of those that hold public offices, and for prelates, and for those having other dignities which oblige them to lead an active life; and likewise for married women who have to govern their children and their household ; and for those that are obliged to serve their parents. If such as these desired to devote themselves to contemplation, when the obligation is upon them to attend to the affairs of others, they would do themselves great harm ; and to each of these it would be an evil and a perilous temptation to engage in contemplation, which is for them the most delightful choice, and to be negligent or to defer fulfilling their obligations, which would be very harmful and likewise hurtful to the public weal. But it is quite otherwise with one that is not obliged to serve others by reason of the office which he holds.

CHAPTER 41

Of the profit which contemplatives bring to others.

I now proceed to show that the contemplative brings much profit to others as well as to himself. For he gives them an example of a good life, preaching in deed and in fact that God is to be loved above all things, and that all things else are vanity, and no heed is to be given to them. And this is no contemptible teaching, but is all the more excellent be-cause deeds are ever looked up to more than words.

        Further, contemplatives bring profit to other men by their devout prayers. Oft-times it happens that through their merits God will work great good to worldly men, although these be evil: He will give, for instance, peace or other_ similar thing to some kingdom. We can do nothing without the especial grace of God, and this is obtained by the holy prayers of contemplatives more readily than by actives; the contemplative indeed is, like the eyes of a body, illumining and guiding other members thereof in all their works. And if the work of the eyes is not the same as that of the hands and feet, it must not be supposed by this that they serve none but them-selves. For they are brought into their way of life that they may refer to God and guide aright the works of those that are not enlightened and uplifted [p.200]  in spiritual things; for those that are so enlightened know of themselves how they must ever turn to God in all that they do, though they be still in this world.

        I do not say this meaning that in case of necessity a contemplative should not leave his way of life to minister to the necessity of another; for could a man lead both the active and the contemplative lives together, and lead them perfectly, this would be the best life of all, even as was that of Saint Gregory and Saint Bernard and others. And if we compare the excellence of the soul with that of the body, and spiritual profit with worldly profit, we shall clearly perceive that the devout prayer of one contemplative is of greater advantage to the whole church than are two hundred prayers of men who lead the active life, and are not occupied in obedience, but minister to the bodily necessities of others. And contemplatives themselves profit more than men who are occupied in the world not in order to minister to others, but merely to work for their own advantage, and indeed at times for the harm of others.

        I say, therefore, that if a man by the influence of the Holy Spirit should feel himself inclined and moved to follow the contemplative life, and should become aware of this, not by trusting in himself, since it is easy for him to be deceived by an angel of Satan in the form of an angel of light, but through the counsel of some spiritual man, such a man, without [p.201]  despising the active life in any way, will be enabled to follow the contemplative life, and this will bring him great praise, and his reward will not be light, unless perchance he acted through being bound to obey his superior .or to undertake some public office, or give help in cases of extreme or urgent need. And by an urgent need I mean one which, unless it be met, will cause a man to perish.  [p.202]

CHAPTER 42

That it is not pride to engage in the contemplative life, as some believe; and this we show by examples.

WITH regard to the second reason of those which are alleged, it cannot, as Gerson reasons, be truly said, that one who engages in contemplation after the manner aforesaid,—that is, that he may love God after the loftiest manner and with all his heart — soars unduly high, or acts presumptuously. Rather, if a man be fitted for this work, and have received from God grace sufficient for it, he would clearly be found wanting, and fail in his duty, if he used not the gift of God, — above all, if he were an ecclesiastic or a religious, and living under a rule. Such a man as this should ever embrace the contemplative life rather than the active, for otherwise the learning of those that are clerks, and especially of theologians, would aid them not at all, but they would by reason thereof become puffed up, and grow vain, hollow and proud.

        By the following example the truth which we have postulated becomes plain. In the court of the king there is a man who works in the kitchen, on whom the king bestows some honour, — making him, let us say, his chamberlain, because he thinks him suitable for that office, and because he is pleased so to exalt [p.203] him. It is certain that if this servant refuses the honour, by reason of his slothfulness, faintheartedness, gluttony or greed, saying that he would rather remain at his work in the kitchen, this man would be reprehensible in the extreme. In like manner, he that can serve God in an exalted office will be adjudged guilty of a great fault if he desires to occupy himself continually in lesser things ; nor will he be excused for his humility, which will rather be imputed to the deceitfulness or lukewarmness of his heart. I say likewise that those who in their contemplation seek to enquire into things too carefully do greatly err and fail ; for to such is necessary above all things humility, which is the guardian and the nurse of charity. [p.204]

CHAPTER 43

Of the greater excellence which contemplatives have than actives.

WITH respect to the third objection, — namely, that certain contemplatives are deceived, and become foolish and melancholy,—the aforesaid Gerson replies thereto as follows. He shows that in the active life also many are deceived, because they use not needful discretion nor bring to an end the work which they have undertaken. Neither is the grace to live the contemplative life given to all men, for certain reasons whereof we have already made mention. For as the Apostle says : “ Each man has his own gift from God, some after one manner and some after another”. And further he says: “If all the members of a body were eyes, where would be the hands, and so forth ?

        It is true that men of the world lightly judge contemplatives to be foolish and given to melancholy, because they are not like themselves, and despise all those things which men of the world most chiefly love. They see not the greatness of the consolations, the holiness of the works, and the riches of the spirit to which contemplatives attain, by despising the world and casting far from themselves all avarice, envy, wrath and vanity. This vanity causes worldly men no little [p.205] vexation, while contemplatives live in great tranquillity and peace of mind, which is so great a blessing that no other can be compared with it. In place of their worldly occupations which are confined to this sphere of the earth, and treat of things so small, the said contemplatives live and are occupied in a greater and more spacious sphere than the whole world, namely, in God Himself.

        Those that are experienced in this matter know well what is meant by the things whereof I speak. It is certain that the rational life of the creature is centred in the operation of the understanding and of the reason more than in any other thing, — that is, in meditations of the reason and in love of the will. Wherefore they alone can be truly said to live who are refreshed by this food and drink in contemplation; and not those who raise not up their souls and their lives toward heavenly things more than do the beasts. For such as these eat and drink, and make merry and are glad, laugh and enjoy such things as endure not. They labour with their bodies, and do in this way as the beasts. Will such as these say perchance that by their labours they do good to others? The horse or the ass does as much good as they, and at times even more. It is true that he who. is unskilled and can do no more than this is to be praised, if he fulfil it faithfully and with a true intention and worthy aim, — namely, that of serving God and ministering to his neighbour. Further, I [p.206] confess that contemplatives in worldly deeds are less prudent and wise than actives : the reason whereof, according to the doctor aforesaid, is that they set not their intent and talent upon these things. For this cause they are accounted as simple men, and not as wise. But they have little care about this, for they are called to the state wherein they live, as the Apostle says, and they strive therein with all their might, namely, that they may be accounted as fools and in the end become truly wise. [p.207]

CHAPTER 44

How necessary to the contemplative is the grace of God.

WE have explained above to some extent that there is a twofold silence, — the one without the soul and the other within it, — and that the work of contemplation is to attain not to this outward secretness and silence but to that which is within. To this end are necessary the silence and the retirement of the cell. For, as Saint Bernard says, the Spouse of the soul, Jesus Christ, is like a bashful lover, and gives not Himself freely to His spouse in the presence of many, desiring rather to be alone with her. Where-fore it behoves the soul to cast out wholly from itself all occupations, whether outward or inward, and be occupied only in receiving its Spouse, since He is simplicity and unity and desires to be sought in simplicity and unity of the heart. And a heart has neither unity nor simplicity when it is distracted and torn asunder by human cares, which are evil and vain. Alas, brethren, into what misery has our noble human soul been led by sin, the which soul was created in a state of complete innocence to think upon its God and Creator and to consider spiritual things without impediment or defect ! And what a marvel that even now, though with the greatest difficulty and pain, and weighed down by the burden of its corruption, it can perform any of this work ! Yet that it does so is known well to those who strive to perform it.

        O my God, what thing is there that can raise such a soul aloft, and bring it into Your oneness, and lead it back to its first state of simplicity, and deliver it from this stormy and tumultuous sea, its infinitude of cares, its various phantasies and the whelm of its swift-rushing imaginings? Of a truth, Lord, none can do this, unless the virtue of Your grace can still the movements of this sea which is within us and is so vast and wide.

        You, Lord, do raise the needy and prostrate soul from the dust of its vain cogitations. you do lift up the poor man from the dunghill of unruly pleasures. Both these you do set on high, that they may sit with princes, — that is, with the angels and the saints, — and have their conversation in the heavens. But this gift of grace is bestowed upon those alone who diligently and fervently seek it and dispose themselves that they may receive it.

CHAPTER 45

Of the manner wherein the contemplative soul is said to be raised above the body and to be made simple and undivided.

WE must not understand that the soul leaves the body according to its substance when, as commonly occurs, it is enraptured in contemplation. Rather at such times it is said to be where its heart and its love are. For, as Saint Augustine says, the soul is more truly where it loves than where it quickens, - that is, where it gives life to the body. I say, therefore, that the lifting up of the devout soul above the world, and above bodily things, unto itself, or unto the angels, or even unto its Creator, than which there is no higher degree, is brought about through earnest and devout meditation or by fervent love.

        This meditation or love is so powerful in its virtue that it makes the soul forget or cease from all other workings and phantasies, as though it were in perfect repose or sleep; and if such workings cease not entirely, yet they cannot corrupt, quench or overwhelm meditation, or the said fervent love, by reason of its most potent might.

        Furthermore, it is fitting that the soul should be occupied in such meditation and love alone, and [p.210] wholly intent thereon, with no care soever for any other thing, nor regard for such thing, passing them quickly and staying not its pace for them. That it is possible, in lesser matters, to be intent in this way we see clearly from daily experience. Aristotle affirms it, saying that it sometimes comes to pass that a man is meditating on some matter so deeply that even though his eyes be open he will look not at that which passes in front of them; and many things will oft-times be said by those in whose company he is, or will be done and practised in his presence, without his knowing it; and he will continue in his deep meditation as though he were asleep. Wherefore this common proverb is sometimes used of such a man : a He is thinking of his loves “.

        In this way students are sometimes enraptured, when they are engaged in composing some subtle thing, and likewise painters, and others who work subtly, and exercise their imaginings strongly. We read about Archimedes, a philosopher and an excellent geometrician, that he was wont to deliberate, and in his imaginings construct subtle engines to be used in battle, and in defence and attack upon cities. It came to pass that the city wherein he dwelt was taken by an enemy, and the prince of the invading army commanded that the said philosopher should not be put to death. It chanced that a soldier met him, and found him absorbed in the work of his inlagining, and asked him his name. But so fixed and [p.211]  intent was he upon his thoughts that he neither knew nor understood that which was asked him, save by making a sign that he should not be disturbed. And as he said nothing, the soldier took his life. Consider how deep was the meditation of this man, who by reason thereof was unconscious of the taking and conquest of the city wherein he dwelt and of the very enemy who slew him.

        Another philosopher, called Neades, was accustomed to sit down to table and forget to eat; and that he might not perish of hunger his servant had to take the food and give it to him with her own hand. Concerning this man, Valerius, who narrates the story, says that he lived for the sake of his soul alone, and was, as it were, imprisoned within the body, which was to him as a thing that was strange and useless.

        We have quoted these examples to show that the soul can cast out all imaginings and cares which profit it not, and rise and soar aloft to other things which are holier and more profitable. In this way, it may be brought to an estate of unity and simplicity, by meditating on the manner wherein it can attain to its Creator, Who is its native home, its goal and its love. It may be a harder and a more laborious task to do this than in the examples which we have expounded, the more so because we have to use thoughts more spiritual, and meditations more unusual and lofty. [p.2I2

CHAPTER 46

On various manners wherein holy men have written of contemplation.

RICHARD of Saint Victor wrote a book which contains five parts, wherein he treats the subject of contemplation with great subtlety and profound knowledge, distinguishing therein six kinds or manners. Of these manners two are set by him in the imagination, and two in the reason, and two more in the intellect. And the said doctor sets within the soul three kinds of heavens, according as the soul works successively in various manners in her thought or meditation—namely, in meditating upon bodily objects which are received by the external senses, or upon herself, or upon the angels and their estate, or even in contemplating the Deity. And in the fifth part of the said book Richard shows how contemplation is formed or diversified after three manners. Sometimes the soul is, as it were, enlarged. Some-times, moreover, it is greatly raised in the understanding. And at other times the understanding is, as it were, beside itself, and forgetful of itself completely. And, further, Richard explains the manner wherein this comes to pass, and how it is done, by citing authorities and examples from Holy Scripture. It may come to pass through great wonder, or great devotion, [p.213] or through no small delectation and consolation of the spirit. But since my intention here is not to speak subtly, but plainly and briefly, both because subtlety in these matters pertains to great theologians, and likewise because they are too high for my understanding, we shall say little of these and shall treat of other degrees of contemplation which are better suited to the simple and devout, and which holy men have practised, making trial of them first and afterwards treating of them in writing.

        Saint Augustine, in the book of his Confessions, describes a certain manner of meditation which he practised with his own mother, when seated at a window which overlooked a garden, not long before his mother’s death.

        Saint Gregory, in his Morals, speaks at great length of contemplation, describing both its peril and its profit, but he treats not in that place of any particular method of entering thereon, or exercising oneself therein. Saint Jerome, writing to the virgin Saint Julia Eustochium, describes among other things a manner of meditation, the which is that she should think upon the hour of her death, and of the reward which she will then receive. How the Virgin, Our Lady, with her Son, Our Redeemer, and the holy angels and virgins will come forth to receive her, singing that song which Miriam, the sister of Moses, sang after the passing of the Children of Israel through the Red Sea : Cantemus, Domino, gloriose, etc. And [p.214] moreover the said Saint Jerome says of himself that, after grievous temptations and long beating of his breast, and much time spent in weeping and tears, he besought the help of God, and it seemed to him that he was in the presence of the company of the angels, through the great peace and joy of his conscience which, after his penitence and tribulation, God had sent to him from Heaven.

        All doctors for the most part agree upon this, that it is good to meditate upon the fearful pains of Hell, the joys of Heaven, a man’s own sins and the vanity of the world. And since we have spoken at length of these matters in writing upon the Purgative, Illuminative and Unitive Ways, we now seek another manner of contemplation.

        Saint Bernard, in wellnigh all his sermons upon the Song of Songs, treats of one manner of prayer, namely of the spiritual marriage between God and the soul, wherein he is followed by a doctor who has recently written upon such a spiritual marriage between Divine Wisdom and the soul after the same manner. This book of his is entitled The Clock of Eternal Wisdom. And in truth this manner of prayer is lofty, subtle and fraught with great peril, especially to such as desire to practise it at the beginning of their conversion. The reason whereof, according to Gerson, is that these novices, who are as yet unpractised in prayer, would lightly fall into remembrance of the matrimony of the flesh, if they entered [p.215]

into thoughts of this union and matrimony which is of the spirit; wherefore they would become defiled and have none of the purity which they were seeking.

CHAPTER 47

Of the method of contemplation which was practised by Saint Bernard soon after his conversion.

SAINT Bernard recounts of himself the manner wherein, at the beginning of his conversion, he realised that he must needs perform works which were good and meritorious, the which he could not do by himself, wherefore he sought to have them of the merits of Christ our Redeemer. And from that time forward he was wont to meditate most diligently upon the whole of the life of the Lord, from His Conception to His Ascension. And from all His bitter sufferings he gathered as it were a bundle of myrrh, which he kept ever by him in his heart ; and by continual remembrance thereof he began to have heartfelt sorrow; wherefore I conclude that the said blessed saint began his ascent and contemplation, by meditating upon the said life of the Lord frequently. In the same way we read of Saint Cecilia that she kept the Gospel of Christ hidden in her breast, — that is to say, she meditated ever upon His life, and ceased not, by day or by night, to speak with God and pray to Him. And the seraphic doctor Saint Bonaventura, in his book entitled Stimulus amoris, speaks of the same matter, and especially of the Passion of our Redeemer and Saviour Jesus Christ, saying that all good things  [p.216] are found therein, and that this Passion is a gate to the way of contemplation, and he that would enter this way otherwise deceives himself. And the said holy doctor confirms this saying by the authority of the Lord, Who says : a Ego sum via, yentas et vita.” Which is to say : “ I am the Way, the Truth and the Life a. The Way : wherein we must walk. The Truth : which illumines the traveller. The life : which refreshes, upholds and rewards him.

        There are many others who have no method in their contemplation save that which they find in some book of devotions, or in the life of some saint, or in other books which they read for the exercise of their devotion, according to the matter which they find therein. To such as these the use of books would always be necessary. Wherefore this method is not of itself sufficient, save if they learn to practise it without the use of books.

Others there are who learn much, and exercise themselves with great effort in contemplation, by means of the Divine offices in ‘church ; but this I judge to be very difficult, especially at the beginning; for by reason of the fatigue inseparable from chanting, it is hard to attain the perfection of  contemplation, save if one be accustomed to practise it in secret. And now, to avoid prolixity, we shall leave the numerous other methods which many devout persons have practised in the exercise and matter of contemplation, and we shall say certain other things thereof.

CHAPTER 48

What contemplation is ; its various kinds; and of the subjects which the exercitant should contemplate.

ACCORDING to Richard of Saint Victor, contemplation is a fixed regard of the soul on the sights of God with marvelling and wonder. Or, ac-cording to Saint Augustine, contemplation is an enlightenment or illumination of the spirit, which in-spires the soul with wholesome affection for the in-visible things of God. Or, according to Hugh of Saint Victor, contemplation is a quickening of the understanding, and he who has it beholds all things clearly and knows them with open vision. As it is written : Spiritus omnia scrutatur. Which is to say : The spirit searcheth all things. This means that it causes men to search them, yea, even the deep things of God. Let this be sufficient concerning the meaning of contemplation.

        We come now to speak of the kinds thereof, concerning which the said Richard in his book on Contemplation gives instruction as follows, in this way.

        First, he says that the contemplative must progress by three paths. The first of these is by his industry, and this, he thinks, may help him greatly; and he must labour therein with great diligence that he may merit higher flights and be aided by God to make them. The second way is by the learning and skill of other men; and this is the means whereby many study and. follow the teachings of those doctrines of the saints which we have quoted, and others likewise. The third way is by the especial grace of God, Who wills to raise men on high to a knowledge of His secrets.

        The second instruction of the said doctor is that contemplation is divided into three parts.

        The first is called Mentis dilatatio, or enlargement of the spirit. This comes to pass when the contemplative enlarges the boundaries of his mind by human industry, and extends the object of his thought.

        The second is called Mentis snblevatio, or the lifting up of the spirit. This comes to pass when the contemplative, illumined by the especial light of God, understands things for which no human industry suffices. Yet albeit that which he understands is above the reach of human industry, the understanding is yet within itself, and neither strays nor wanders beyond itself, but rather remains within itself, al-though not as it was aforetime in the things to which it was accustomed.

        The third part is called Mentis alienatio, or ecstasy of the spirit. This is that which comes to pass when the soul sees things to which its natural industry suffices not to raise it. In these visions the soul goes out of itself, and of the wonted judg [p.220]

 ment of its understanding. It knows not where it is, nor what it is, nor whether it is in the body or out of the body. And this is also called rapture, whereof we have spoken in treating of the Unitive Way.

        Let it be noted here that the first of these three parts, which is called enlargement of the spirit, is helped by the skill of man, and by his constant exercise and great diligence. The second, — that is, the lifting up of the spirit — is aided by the light of Heaven which the soul receives from time to time over and above its own industry, and at times above even its own knowledge, and at times above nature. In this way were the prophets lifted up on high when they saw and told of things past and things to come, and the secrets of the hearts of men, yet without being enraptured or suffering any estrangement or rapture in themselves. The third, — that is to say ecstasy or rapture of the spirit — comes to pass within us either through excess of devotion, which arises from an exceeding great desire or love for the Lord, or through marvelling greatly at some-thing that appears most high and wonderful, or again through an exceeding great delight or joy in that which is received within us through the especial grace of the Lord.

        The third chief instruction of Richard of Saint Victor is that when the exercitant in his contemplation feels himself cold, he must warm himself after [p.221] a special manner by his own effort, that he may the sooner rise up in contemplation to meet the Lord. He must take some subject wherewith he may be-come enkindled in his contemplation, as we have said above in the meditations upon the three Ways, — that is, the Purgative, the Illuminative and the Unitive. But since, as we said, following the seraphic doctor Saint Bonaventura, the door whereby we enter the contemplative life is the life and passion of Christ our Redeemer, and that he who would enter therein other-wise deceives himself, we shall speak now in summary form of the life of the Lord up to the Last Supper. [p.222]

 

 

 

 

 


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