A Spiritual Canticle of The Soul and The Bridegroom - John of The Cross (1909) Transl Lewis

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A
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canticle
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THE WORKS OF
ST.
JOHN OF THE CROSS
NIHIL OBSTAT
Henricus S. Bowden
Censor Depntatus.
IMPRIMATUR
Edmd. Canonicus Surmont
Vicarius Generalis.
Westmonasterii
Die 28 Junii 1909.
Jvxav A^-
.'
APiU7'1916
A SPIRITUAL
CANTIClP"^
OF THE SOUL
AND
THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST
BY
ST.
JOHN OF THE CROSS
TRANSLATED BY
DAVID LEWIS
WITH CORRECTIONS AND AN INTRODUCTION
BY
BENEDICT ZIMMERMAN, O.C.D.
Prior
of
St. Luke's, Wincanton
New York, Cincinnati, Chicago
BENZIGER BROTHERS
PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE
1909
Printed and Published ey Thomas Baker,
72,
Newman Street, London, W.
July, 1909.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION, BY Rev. Benedict Zimmerman, O.CD. .. xi
SPIRITUAL CANTICLE OF THE SOUL
AND
THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST
PS.GB
Prologue . . . . . . . . .
.
.
.
. . . I
Song of the Soul and the Bridegroom . . . . .
.
.
5
Argument .. .. .. .. .. .. .. 13
EXPLANATION OF THE STANZAS
Note '4
STANZA I
God essentially hidden. The Only-begotten Son. The hidden
treasure. The peaceful pain of hope .
.
. . . 1
5
STANZA II
Messengers of the wounded soul. The message of love .
.
.
32
STANZA III
The search after God commenced. Flowers by the roadside.
Meeting the enemy . . . . . .
.
3^
STANZA IV
The Universe questioned about God . . .
.
.
- 4^
STANZA V
Answer of the Creatures .
.
.
.
S
Note
52
v
VI CONTENTS
STANZA VI
PAGE
The Creature excites love for the Creator .
.
.
.
.
.
53
STANZA VII
God the desired message and messenger. Testimony of
rational creatures . . . . . . .
.
.
.
. .
57
STANZA VIII
Death in the quiver of life . . . . . . .
.
.
.
. . 62
Note .
.
.
.
. . .
.
. . .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
65
STANZA IX
Complaint of the wounded soul. Love the reward of love . . 66
Note .
.
.
.
.
.
. . .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
70
STANZA X
The soul satisfied by God alone. The uncreated light . . . .
72
Note
75
STANZA XI
The soul asks to see God and die. ]\Ian cannot see God and live.
Death the friend. The cure of imperfect love. . . . .
76
Note ..
86
STANZA XII
The crystal fount of faith reflects the face of God. Love begets
likeness and union . . . . . . . . . . . .
87
Note 94
STANZA XIII
Dark approach to Divine Light. Glance of the Divine eyes.
Voice of the Beloved . . . . . . . . . . . -
95
Note 104
STANZA XIV
Song of the Bride-soul. God the undiscovered country. His
voice upon the waters. The gentle air and the night
vision .
.
. . .
.
. . . . . .
.
. . 105
CONTENTS
vii
STANZA XV
Note
STANZA XVIII
STANZA XIX
Note
STANZA XX
PAGE
Calm morning twilight. Universal hymn of praise to God.
Spiritual banquet of love .. .. .. .. .. 121
Note
128
STANZA XVI
Foxes in the vineyard. The nosegay of roses. Solitude of the
heart .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. . i^q
Note
136
STANZA XVII
The suffering of love. North and south winds. Breath of the
sweet-smelling flowers .. .. .. .. .. .. 137
144
The soul rebukes the rebellious motions of the flesh. The royal
captivein prison. Loiterers at the gate of the city . , 146
Note
149
Sunlight on the mountams. The soul asks for purely spiritual
communication with God .. .. .. .. .. iî
154
The Bridegroom guards his bride. The soul restored to justice
by Christ. God a joy for ever
. . .
.
.
.
. . 156
STANZA XXI
The reign of everlasting
peace .
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
. . 167
Note
i6g
T
STANZA XXII
Rejoicing of the Good Shepherd over His recovered sheep. From
penance to perfection. The spiritual marriage .. .. 170
Note .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ,. ,. 177
Viii
CONTENTS
STANZA XXIII
PAGE
The trees of Paradise and of Calvary. The Cross our second
Mother . . . . . . . - .
i?^
Note
i8i
STANZA XXIV
Bliss of the state of perfect union with God. Perfume shed by
Divine flowers. Virtues a crown and defence .. .. 182
Note
190
STANZA XXV
The soul gives thanks for graces bestowed on others. Running
in the way of life. New and old wine. The old friend of
God
190
Note
198
STANZA XXVI
Happy state of the soul in Divine love. Perfect fear, perfect
love. We may know little and love much. Wisdom and
folly. The shepherd loses his flock . . . . . . . . 200
Note
211
STANZA XXVII
The communion of God and the soul in love. Mutual and un-
reserved surrender. Perfect fulfilment of the law of love .. 213
Note . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . 217
STANZA XXVIII
The soul centred on love, its sole occupation. God, and nothing
else . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . 218
Note . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . 222
STANZA XXIX
Love highest in importance and profit. Loss and gain of the
soul. The better part. Mary and Martha .
.
.
.
. . 225
Note .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. . . . .
.
.
.
. . 230
CONTENTS
ix
STANZA XXX
PACE
First flowers of spring sweetest. The delight of the bride-soul
and Christ in the possession of the virtues and gifts of each
other. Christ crowned by His Saints. Beauty and strength
of the perfect soul . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
Note
238
STANZA XXXI
God captive to pure strong love. The thread of Love binding
together God and the soul. Power of trust in God .. .. 240
Note
STANZA XXXII
Note
STANZA XXXIII
Note
Note
244
Grace the cause of merit. The soul refers all to God, and gives
thanks to Him for His mercy in looking lovingly upon her . . 245
250
The soul prays for the continuance of the Divine spiritual union.
The soul's beauty God's gift. God honours His own work . . 252
257
STANZA XXXIV
The olive branch of peace . . .
. 258
Note
261
STANZA XXXV
The Dove's nest . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 262
Note
266
STANZA XXXVI
The soul ripe for heaven. Beauty of God in the soul. Infinite
depths of Divine truths . . . . . . . . . . 268
275
CONTENTS
STANZA XXXVII
PAGE
To know God is eternal life. Truth as it is in Jesus. New wine
of the pomegranates .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. . 276
Note . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . 282
STANZA XXXVIII
Love for love. Day of God's eternity. Victory and Crown . . 283
Note .
.
. . .
.
.
.
. . . . .
.
.
.
. . 291
STANZA XXXIX
Breath of eternal life. The nightingale's song. The grove and
its beauty. Blissful and consuming fire of God's love . . 291
STANZA XL
Going up by the desert of death. Encampment by the waters
of Life
303
Index to passages from Holy Scripture . . . . .
.
. . 308
General Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315
INTRODUCTION
THE
present volume of the works of St. John
of the Cross contains the explanation of
the
'
Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the
Bridegroom Christ.' The two earlier works, the
*
Ascent of Mount Carmel
'
and the
'
Dark Night
of the Soul ' dealt with the cleansing of the soul,
the unremittant war against even the smallest
imperfections standing in the wa}^ of union with
God
;
imperfections which must be removed,
partly by strict self-discipline, partly by the
direct intervention of God, Who, searching
'
the
reins and hearts
'
by means of heavy interior and
exterior trials, purges away whatever is dis-
pleasing to Him. Although some stanzas refer
to this preliminary state, the chief object of the
*
Spiritual Canticle
'
is to picture under the
Biblical simile of Espousals and Matrimony the
blessedness of a soul that has arrived at union
with God.
The Canticle was composed during the long
Xll INTRODUCTION
imprisonment St. John
underwent at Toledo from
the beginning of December
1577
till the middle
of August of the following year. Being one of
the principal supporters of the Reform of St.
Teresa, he was also one of the victims of the war
waged against her work by the Superiors of the
old branch of the Order. St. John's prison was
a narrow, stifling cell, with no window, but only
a small loophole through which a ray of light
entered for a short time of the day, just long
enough to enable him to say his office, but affording
little facility for reading or writing. However,
St. John stood in no need of books. Having for
many years meditated on every word of Holy
Scripture, the Word of God was deeply written
in his heart, supplying abundant food for con-
versation with God during the whole period of
his imprisonment. From time to time he poured
forth his soul in poetry
;
afterwards he com-
municated his verses to friends.
One of these poetical works, the fruit of his
imprisonment, was the
*
Spiritual Canticle,'
which, as the reader will notice, is an abridged
paraphrase of the Canticle of Canticles, the Song
of Solomon, wherein under the image of pas-
sionate love are described the mystical sufferings
and longings of a soul enamoured with God.
INTRODUCTION
xiii
From the earliest times the Fathers and Doctors
of the Church had recognised the mystical cha-
racter of the Canticle, and the Church had largely
utilised it in her liturgy. But as there is nothing
so holy but that it may be abused, the Canticle,
almost more than any other portion of Holy
Scripture, had been misinterpreted by a false
Mysticism, such as was rampant in the middle
of the sixteenth century. It had come to pass,
said the learned and saintly Augustinian, Fray
Luis de Leon, that that which was given as a
medicine was turned into poison,* so that the
Ecclesiastical authority, by the Index of
1559,
forbade the circulation of the Bible or parts of
the Bible in any but the original languages,
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin
;
and no one knew
better than Luis de Leon himself how rigorously
these rules were enforced, for he had to expiate
by nearly five years' imprisonment the audacity
of having translated into Castilian the Canticle
of Canticles.
I
Again, one of the confessors of St. Teresa, com-
monly thought to have been the Dominican, Fray
* '
Los nombres de Cristo. ' Introduction.
t
This exceptionally severe legislation, justified by the dangers of
the time, only held good for Spain and the Spanish colonies, and has
long since been revised. It did not include the Epistles and Gospels.
Psalms, Passion, and other parts of the daily service.
XIV INTRODUCTION
Diego de Yanguas, on learning that the Saint had
written a book on the Canticle, ordered her to
throw it into the fire, so that we now only possess
a few fragments of her work, which, unknown to
St. Teresa, had been copied by a nun.
It will now be understood that St.
John's
poetical paraphrase of the Canticle must have
been welcome to many contemplative souls who
desired to kindle their devotion with the words of
Solomon, but were unable to read them in Latin.
Yet the text alone, without explanation, would
have helped them little
;
and as no one was better
qualified than the author to throw light on the
mysteries hidden under oriental imagery, the
Venerable Ann of Jesus,
Prioress of the Carmelite
convent at Granada, requested St. John to write
a commentary on his verses.* He at first excused
himself, saying that he was no longer in that
state of spiritual exuberance in which he had been
when composing the Canticle, and that there only
*
Ann de Lobera, born at Medina del Campo, November
25, 1545,
was a deaf-mute until her eighth year. When she applied for ad-
mission to the Carmelite convent at Avila St. Teresa promised to
receive her not so much as a novice, but as her companion and future
successor ;
she took the habit August i,
1570,
and made her pro-
fession at Salamanca, October 21, 1571. She became the first prioress
of Veas, and was entrusted by St. Teresa with the foundation of Granada
(January 1582),
where she found St. John of the Cross, who was prior
of the convent of The Martyrs (well known to visitors of the Alhambra
although no longer a convent). St. John not only became the director
INTRODUCTION XV
remained to him a confused recollection of the
wonderful operations of Divine grace during the
period of his imprisonment. Ann of Jesus was
not satisfied with this answer
;
she not only knew
that St. John
had lost nothing of his fervour,
though he might no longer experience the same
feelings, but she remembered what had happened
to St. Teresa under similar circumstances, and
believed the same thing might happen to St. John.
When St. Teresa was obliged to write on some
mystical phenomena, the nature of which she did
not fully understand, or whose effect she had
forgotten, God granted her unexpectedly a repe-
tition of her former experiences so as to enable
her to fully study the matter and report on it.*
Venerable Ann of
Jesus felt sure that if St. John
undertook to write an explanation of the Canticle
he would soon find himself in the same mental
attitude as when he composed it.
St. John at last consented, and wrote the work
and confessor of the convent of nuns, but remained the most faithful
helper and the staunchest friend of Mother Ann throughout the heavy
trials which marred many years of her life. In 1604 she went to Paris
to found the first convent of her Order in France, and in 1607 she pro-
ceeded to Brussels, where she remained until her death, March
4,
1621. The heroic nature of her virtues having been acknowledged,
she was declared
'
Venerable
'
in 1878, and it is hoped that she will
soon be beatified.
*
See
'
Life of St. Teresa
'
: ed. Baker (London, 1904), ch. xiv. 12,
xvi. 2, xviii. 10.
XVI INTRODUCTION
now before us. The following letter, which has
lately come to light, gives some valuable in-
formation of its composition. The writer, Mag-
dalen of the Holy Ghost, nun of Veas, where she
was professed on August
6,
1577,
was inti-
mately acquainted with the Saint.
'
When the holy father escaped from prison,
he took with him a book of poetry he had written
while there, containing the verses commencing
"
In the beginning was the Word," and those
others : "I know the fountain well which flows
and runs, though it be night," and the canticle,
"
Where hast thou hidden thyself ?
"
as far as
"O nymphs of Judea"
(stanza XVIIL). The re-
maining verses he composed later on while rector
of the college of Baeza
(1579-81),
while some of
the explanations were written at Veas at the
request of the nuns, and others at Granada. The
Saint wrote this book in prison and afterwards
left it at Veas, where it was handed to me to make
some copies of it. Later on it was taken away
from my cell, and I never knew who took it. I
was much struck with the vividness and the
beauty and subtlety of the words. One day I
asked the Saint whether God had given him these
words which so admirably explain those mysteries,
and he answered :
"
Child, sometimes God gave
INTRODUCTION XVll
them to me, and at other times I sought them
myself."
* *
The autograph of St. John's work which is pre-
served at Jaen
bears the following title :
'
Explanation of Stanzas treating of the
exercise of love between the soul and Jesus
Christ its Spouse, dealing with and commenting
on certain points and effects of prayer
;
written
at the request of Mother Ann of Jesus,
prioress
of the Discalced Carmelite nuns of St. Joseph's
convent, Granada, 1584.'
As might be expected, the author dedicated the
book to Ann of Jesus,
at whose request he had
written it. Thus, he began his Prologue with
the following words :
*
Inasmuch as this canticle.
Reverend Mother {Religiosa Madre), seems to have
been written,' etc. A little further on he said :
*
The stanzas that follow, having been written
under the influence of that love which proceeds
from the overflowing mystical intelligence, can-
not be fully explained. Indeed, I do not purpose
any such thing, for my sole purpose is to throw
some general light over them, since Your Reverence
has asked me to do so, and since this, in my opinion
too, is the better course.' And again :
*
I shall,
*
'
Manuel Serrano
y
Sanz,' Apuntos para una Biblioteca de Escri-
tores espanoles.
(1903, p. 399.)
b
XVlll INTRODUCTION
however, pass over the more ordinary (effects of
prayer), and treat briefly of the more extra-
ordinary to which they are subject who, by the
mercy of God, have advanced beyond the state
of beginners. This I do for two reasons : the first
is that much is aheady written concerning be-
ginners
;
and the second is that I am addressing
myself to Your Reverence at your own bidding
;
for
you have received from Our Lord the grace of
being led on from the elementary state and led
inwards to the bosom of His divine love.' He
continues thus :
'
I therefore trust, though I may
discuss some points of scholastic theology relating
to the interior commerce of the soul with God, that
I am not using such language altogether in vain,
and that it will be found profitable for pure spiritua-
lity. For though Your Reverence is ignorant
of
scholastic theology, you are by no means ignorant
of mystical theology, the science of love, etc'
From these passages it appears quite clearly
that the Saint wrote the book for Venerable Ann
of Jesus
and the nuns of her convent. With the
exception of an edition published at Brussels in
1627,
these personal allusions have disappeared
from both the Spanish text and the translations,*
*
Cf. Berthold-Ignace de Sainte Anne,
'
Vie de la Mere Anne de
Jesus'
(Malines,
1876),
I.
343
sqq.
INTRODUCTION XIX
nor are they to be found in Mr. Lewis's version.
There cannot be the least doubt that they repre-
sent St. John's own intention, for they are to be
found in his original manuscript. This, con-
taining, in several parts, besides the Explanation
of the Spiritual Canticle, various poems by the
Saint, was given by him to Ann of
Jesus, who in
her turn committed it to the care of one of her
nuns, Isabelle of the Incarnation, who took it
with her to Baeza, where she remained eleven
years, and afterwards to Jaen, where she founded
a convent of which she became the first prioress.
She there caused the precious manuscript to be
bound in red velvet with silver clasps and gilt
edges. It still was there in
1876,
and, for aught
we know, remains to the present day in the keep-
ing of the said convent. It is a pity that no
photographic edition of the writings of St. John
(so far as the originals are preserved) has yet
been attempted, for there is need for a critical
edition of his works.
The following is the division of the work :
Stanzas I. to IV. are introductory
;
V. to XII.
refer to the contemplative life in its earlier stages
;
XIII. to XXL, dealing with what the Saint calls
the Espousals, appertain to the Unitive way,
where the soul is frequently^
but
not habitually,
XX INTRODUCTION
admitted to a transient union with God
;
and
XXII. to the end describe what he calls Matri-
mony, the highest perfection a soul can attain
this side of the grave. The reader will find an
epitome of the whole system of mystical theology
in the explanation of Stanza XXVI.
This work differs in many respects from the
'
Ascent
'
and the
'
Dark Night.' Whereas
these are strictly systematic, proceeding on the
line of relentless logic, the
'
Spiritual Canticle/
as a poetical work ought to do, soars high above
the divisions and distinctions of the scholastic
method. With a boldness akin to that of his
Patron Saint, the Evangelist, St. John
rises to the
highest heights, touching on a subject that should
only be handled by a Saint, and which the reader,
were he a Saint himself, will do well to treat
cautiously : the partaking by the human soul of
the Divine Nature, or, as St. John
calls it, the
Deification of the soul (Stanza XXVI. sqq).
These are regions where the ordinary mind
threatens to turn
;
but St. John,
with the know-
ledge of what he himself had experienced, not
once but many times, what he had observed in
others, and what, above all, he had read of in
Holy Scripture, does not shrink from hfting the
veil more completely than probably any Cathohc
INTRODUCTION
XXI
writer on mystical theology has done. To pass
in silence the last wonders of God's love for fear
of being misunderstood, would have been tanta-
mount to ignoring the very end for which souls
are led along the way of perfection
;
to reveal
these mysteries in human language, and say all
that can be said with not a word too much, not
an uncertain or misleading line in the picture
:
this could only have been accomplished by one
whom the Church has already declared to have
been taught by God Himself (divinitus instrudus),
and whose books She tells us are filled with
heavenly wisdom (coelesti sapientia refertos). It
is hoped that sooner or later She will proclaim him
(what many grave authorities think him to be)
a Doctor of the Church, namely, the Doctor of
Mystical theology.*
As has already been noticed in the Introduction
to the
*
Ascent,' the whole of the teaching of
St. John
is directly derived from Holy Scripture
and from the psychological principles of St.
Thomas Aquinas. There is no trace to be found
of an influence of the Mystics of the Middle Age,
with whose writings St.
John does not appear to
have been acquainted. But throughout this
*
On this subject see Fray Eulogio de San
Jose,
'
Doctorado de Santa
Teresa de Jesus
y
de San Juan de la Cruz.' Cordoba, 1896.
XXll INTRODUCTION
treatise there are many obvious allusions to the
writings of St. Teresa^ nor will the reader fail to
notice the encouraging remark about the pub-
lication of her works
(p.
loo). The fact is that
the same Venerable Ann of
Jesus who was respon-
sible for the composition of St. John's treatise
was at the same time making preparations for the
edition of St. Teresa's works which a few years
later appeared at Salamanca under the editorship
of Fray Luis de Leon, already mentioned.
Those of his readers who have been struck with,
not to say frightened by, the exactions of St. John
in the
*
Ascent ' and the
'
Dark Night,' where
he demands complete renunciation of every kind
of satisfaction and pleasure, however legitimate
in themselves, and an entire mortification of the
senses as well as the faculties and powers of the
soul, and who have been wondering at his self-
abnegation which caused him not only to accept,
but even to court contempt, will find here the clue
to this almost inhuman attitude. In his response
to the question of Our Lord,
'
What shall I give
thee for all thou hast done and suffered for Me ?
'
*
Lord, to suffer and be despised for Thee
'
he
was not animated by grim misanthropy or stoic
indifference, but he had learned that in propor-
tion as the human heart is emptied of Self, after
INTRODUCTION XXlll
having been emptied of all created things, it is
open to the influx of Divine grace. This he fully
proves in the
'
Spiritual Canticle.' To be made
'
partaker of the Divine Nature/ as St. Peter
says, human nature must undergo a radical trans-
formation. Those who earnestly study the teach-
ing of St. John
in his earlier treatises and en-
deavour to put his recommendations into practice,
will see in this and the next volume an unexpected
perspective opening before their eyes, and they
will begin to understand how it is that the suffer-
ings of this timewhether voluntary or involun-
taryare not worthy to be compared with the
glory to come that shall be revealed in us.
Mr. Lewis's masterly translation of the works of
St. John of the Cross appeared in 1864 under the
auspices of Cardinal Wiseman. In the second
edition, of
1889,
he made numerous changes, with-
out, however, leaving a record of the principles
that guided him. Sometimes, indeed, the revised
edition is terser than the first, but just as often
the old one seems clearer. It is more difficult to
understand the reasons that led him to alter very
extensively the text of quotations from Holy
Scripture. In the first edition he had nearly
always strictly adhered to the Douay version,
which is the one in official use in the Catholic
XXIV INTRODUCTION
Church in EngHsh-speaking countries. It may
not always be as perfect as one would wish it to
be, but it must be acknowledged that the whole-
sale alteration in Mr. Lewis's second edition is, to
say the least, puzzling. Even the Stanzas have
undergone many changes in the second edition,
and it will be noticed that there are some variants
in their text as set forth at the beginning of the
book, and as repeated at the heading of each
chapter.
The present edition, allowing for some slight
corrections, is a reprint of that of 1889.
BENEDICT ZIMMERMAN, PRIOR, O.C.D.
St. Luke's, Wincanton, Somerset,
Feast of St. Simon Stock,
May 16, 1909.
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE OF THE SOUL
AND THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST*
PROLOGUE
Inasmuch as this canticle seems to have been written
with some fervour of love of God, whose wisdom and
love are, as is said in the book of Wisdom,f so vast that
they reach
'
from end unto end,' and as the soul, taught
and moved by Him, manifests the same abundance and
strength in the words it uses, I do not purpose here to
set forth all that greatness and fulness the spirit of love,
which is fruitful, embodies in it. Yea, rather it would
be foolishness to think that the language of love and the
mystical intelligenceand that is what these stanzas
arecan be at all explained in words of any kind, for the
Spirit of our Lord who helps our weaknessas St. Paul
saith
J
dwelling in us makes petitions for us with
*
[This canticle was made by the Saint when he was in the prison
of the Mitigation, in Toledo. It came into the hands of the Venerable
Anne of Jesus, at whose request he wrote the following commentary on
it, and addressed it to her.]
f
Wisdom viii. i
J
Rom. viii. 26.
I
2
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE
groanings unutterable for that which we cannot well
understand or grasp so as to be able to make it known.
'
The Spirit helpeth our infirmity . . . the Spirit Himself
requesteth for us with groanings unspeakable.' For who
can describe that which He shows to loving souls in
whom He dwells ? Who can set forth in words that
which He makes them feel ? and, lastly, who can explain
that for which they long ?
2. Assuredly no one can do it
;
not even they them-
selves who experience it. That is the reason why they
use figures of special comparisons and similitudes
;
they
hide somewhat of that which they feel and in the
abundance of the Spirit utter secret mysteries rather
than express themselves in clear words.
3.
And if these similitudes be not received in the
simplicity of a loving mind, and in the sense in which
they are uttered, they will seem to be effusions of folly
rather than the language of reason
;
as any one may see
in the divine Canticle of Solomon, and in others of the
sacred books, wherein the Holy Ghost, because ordinary
and common speech could not convey His meaning,
uttered His mysteries in strange terms and similitudes.
It follows from this, that after all that the holy doctors
have said, and may say, no words of theirs can explain it
;
nor can words do it ; and so, in general, all that is said
falls far short of the meaning.
OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
3
4.
The stanzas that follow having been written under
the influence of that love which proceeds from the over-
flowing mystical intelligence, cannot be fully explained.
Indeed I do not purpose any such thing, for my sole
object is to throw some general light over them, whicn
in my opinion is the better course. It is better to leave
the outpourings of love in their own fulness, that every
one may apply them according to the measure of his
spirit and power, than to pare them down to one particular
sense which is not suited to the taste of every one. And
though I do put forth a particular explanation, still
others are not to be bound by it. The mystical wisdom
that is, the love, of which these stanzas speakdoes
not require to be distinctly understood in order to pro-
duce the effect of love and tenderness in the soul, for it
is in this respect like faith, by which we love God with-
out a clear comprehension of Him.
5.
I shall therefore be very concise, though now and
then unable to avoid some prolixity where the subject
requires it, and when the opportunity is offered of dis-
cussing and explaining certain points and effects of
prayer : many of which being referred to in these stanzas,
I must discuss some of them. I shall, however, pass over
the more ordinary ones, and treat briefly of the more
extraordinary to which they are subject who, by the
mercy of God, have advanced beyond the state of
4
beginners. This I do for two reasons : the first is, that
much is already written concerning beginners
;
and the
second is, that I am addressing those who have received
from our Lord the grace of being led on from the ele-
mentary state and are led inwards to the bosom of His
divine love.
6. I therefore trust, though I may discuss some points
of scholastic theology relating to the interior commerce
of the soul with God, that I am not using such language
altogether in vain, and that it will be found profitable
for pure spirituality. For though some may be alto-
gether ignorant of scholastic theology by which the
divine verities are explained, yet they are not ignorant
of mystical theology, the science of love, by which those
verities are not only learned, but at the same time are
relished also.
7.
And in order that what I am going to say may
be the better received, I submit myself to higher judg-
ments, and unreservedly to that of our holy mother the
Church, intending to say nothing in reliance on my own
personal experience, or on what I have observed in other
spiritual persons, nor on what I have heard them say
though I intend to profit by all thisunless I can con-

firm it with the sanction of the divine writings, at least
on those points which are most difficult of comprehension,
8. The method I propose to follow in the matter is
5
this : first of all, to cite the words of the text and then
to give that explanation of them which belongs to the
subject before me. I shall now transcribe all the stanzas
and place them at the beginning of this treatise. In the
next place, I shall take each of them separately, and
explain them line by line, each line in its proper place
before the explanation.
SONG OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM
I
THE BRIDE
Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved ?
Thou hast fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying
; but Thou wert gone.
O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see Him
Whom I love the most.
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.
In search of my Love
I will go over mountains and strands
;
I will gather no flowers,
I will fear no wild beasts
;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.
O groves and thickets
Planted by the hand of the Beloved
;
O verdant meads
Enamelled with flowers,
Tell me, has He passed by you ?
V
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES
A thousand graces diffusing
He passed through the groves in haste.
And merely regarding them
As He passed
Clothed them with His beauty,
VI
THE BRIDE
Oh ! who can heal me ?
Give me at once Thyself,
Send me no more
A messenger
Who cannot tell me what I wish.
All they who serve are telling me
Of Thy unnumbered graces
;
And all wound me more and more.
And something leaves me dying,
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.
But how thou perseverest, O life.
Not living where thou livest
;
The arrows bring death
Which thou receivest
From thy conceptions of the Beloved.
Why, after wounding
This heart, hast Thou not healed it ?
And why, after stealing it,
Hast Thou thus abandoned it,
And not carried away the stolen prey ?
Quench Thou my troubles,
For no one else can soothe them
;
And let mine eyes behold Thee,
For thou art their light.
And I will keep them for Thee alone.
Reveal Thy presence.
And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.
Behold the malady
Of love is incurable
Except in Thy presence and before Thy face.
XII
O crystal well !
Oh that on Thy silvered surface
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those eyes desired
Which are outlined in my heart !
Turn them away, O my Beloved !
I am on the wing :
THE BRIDEGROOM
Return, My Dove !
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.
XIV
THE BRIDE
My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys.
The strange islands,
The roaring torrents.
The whisper of the amorous gales
;
XV
The tranquil night
At the approaches of the dawn.
The silent music.
The murmuring solitude.
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.
Catch us the foxes.
For our vineyard hath flourished
;
While of roses
We make a nosegay.
And let no one appear on the hill.
O killing north wind, cease !
Come, south wind, that awakenest love !
Blow through my garden.
And let its odours flow.
And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers.
O nymphs of Judea !
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume.
Tarry in the suburbs,
And touch not our thresholds.
Hide thyself, O my Beloved !
Turn Thy face to the mountains.
Do not speak,
But regard the companions
Of her who is travellinsr amidst strange islands.
XX
THE BRIDEGROOM
Light-winged birds,
Lions, fawns, bounding does,
Mountains, valleys, strands,
Waters, winds, heat.
And the terrors that keep watch by night
;
XXI
By the soft lyres
And the siren strains, I adjure you.
Let your fury cease,
And touch not the wall,
That the bride may sleep in greater security.
The bride has entered
The pleasant and desirable garden,
And there reposes to her heart's content
;
Her neck reclining
On the sweet arms of the Beloved.
Beneath the apple-tree
There wert thou betrothed
;
There I gave thee My hand,
And thou wert redeemed
Where thy mother was corrupted.
10 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE
XXIV
THE BRIDE
Our bed is of flowers
By dens of lions encompassed,
Hung with purple,
Made in peace.
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.
In Thy footsteps
The young ones run Thy way
;
At the touch of the fire,
And by the spiced wine.
The divine balsam flows.
In the inner cellar
Of my Beloved have I drunk ;
and when I went forth
Over all the plain
I knew nothing,
And lost the flock I followed before.
There He gave me His breasts,
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.
And there I gave to Him
Myself without reserve
;
There I promised to be His bride.
My soul is occupied.
And all my substance in His service
;
Now I guard no flock.
Nor have I any other employment
:
My sole occupation is love.
OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM II
If, then, on the common land
I am no longer seen or found,
You will say that I am lost
;
That, being enamoured,
I lost myself ; and yet was found.
Of emeralds, and of flowers
In the early morning gathered.
We will make the garlands,
Flowering in Thy love.
And bound together with one hair of_^my head.
By that one hair
Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,
And on my neck regarded.
Thou wert captivated
;
And wounded by one of my eyes.
When Thou didst regard me,
Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace
For this didst Thou love me again,
And thereby mine eyes did merit
To adore what in Thee they saw.
Despise me not.
For if I was swarthy once
Thou canst regard me now
;
Since Thou hast regarded me,
Grace and beauty hast Thou given me
XXXIV
THE BRIDEGROOM
The little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the bough
And now the turtle-dove
Its desired mate
On the green banks has found.
In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest
;
And in solitude, alone
Hath the Beloved guided her,
In solitude also wounded with love.
xxxvi
THE BRIDE
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved !
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty.
To the mountain and the hill.
Where the pure water flows
;
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.
We shall go at once
To the deep caverns of the rock
Which are all secret.
There we shall enter in
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.
There thou wilt show me
That which my soul desired
;
And there Thou wilt give at once,
O Thou, my life !
That which Thou gavest me the other day.
1
3
The breathing of the air,
The song of the sweet nightingale,
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night.
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains.
None saw it
;
Neither did Aminadab appear.
The siege was intermitted.
And the cavalry dismounted
At the sight of the waters.
ARGUMENT
These stanzas describe the career of a soul from its
first entrance on the service of God till it comes to the
final state of perfection
^the spiritual marriage. They

refer accordingly to the three states or ways of the
spiritual trainingthe purgative, illuminative, and unitive
ways, some properties and effects of which they explain.
The first stanzas relate to beginnersto the purgative
way. The second to the advancedto the state of
spiritual betrothal ; that is, the illuminative way. The
next to the unitive waythat of the perfect, the spiritual
marriage. The unitive way, that of the perfect, follows
the illuminative, which is that of the advanced. The
last stanzas treat of the beatific state, which only the
already perfect soul aims at.
14
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. I.]
EXPLANATION OF THE STANZAS
NOTE
The soul, considering the obhgations of its state,
seeing that
'
the days of man are short
;
'
*
that the way
of eternal life is strait
;
f
that ' the just man shall scarcely
be saved ;
'
J
that the things of this world are empty
and deceitful ; that all die and perish like water poured
on the ground
;
that time is uncertain, the last account
strict, perdition most easy, and salvation most difficult
;
and recognising also, on the other hand, the great debt
that is owing to God, Who has created it solely for Him-
self, for which the service of its whole life is due, Who
has redeemed it for Himself alone, for which it owes Him
all else, and the correspondence of its will to His love
;
and remembering other innumerable blessings for which
it acknowledges itself indebted to God even before it
was born : and also that a great part of its life has been
wasted, and that it will have to render an account of it
all from the beginning unto the end, to the payment of
'
the last farthing,'
||
when God shall
'
search Jerusalem
with lamps ;
'
^
that it is already late, and perhaps the
end of the day :
**
in order to remedy so great an evil,
*
Job
xiv.
5. t
St. Matt. vii. 14,
J
i St. Pet. iv. 18.
2 Kings xiv. 14. ||

St. Matt. v. 26.
If
Sophon, i. 12.
^
**
St. Matt. XX. 6.
[STAN. I.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
1
5
especially when it is conscious that God is grievously
offended, and that He has hidden His face from it, because
it would forget Him for the creature,the soul, now
touched with sorrow and inward sinking of the heart
at the sight of its imminent risks and ruin, renouncing
everything and casting them aside without delaying for
a day, or even an hour, with fear and groanings uttered
from the heart, and wounded with the love of God,
begins to invoke the Beloved and says :
STANZA I
THE BRIDE
Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,
And left me to my sorrow, my Beloved !
Thou hast fled like the hart.
Having wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying ; but Thou werf gone.
In this first stanza the soul, enamoured of the Word,
the Son of God, the Bridegroom, desiring to be united
to Him in the clear and substantial vision, sets before
Him the anxieties of its love, complaining of His absence.
And this the more so because, now pierced and wounded
with love, for which it had abandoned all things, even
itself, it has still to endure the absence of the Beloved,
Who has not released it from its mortal flesh, that it
l6 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. I.]
might have the fruition of Him in the glory of eternity.
Hence it cries out,
*
Where hast Thou hidden Thyself ?
'
2. It is as if the soul said,
'
Show me,0 Thou the Word,
my
Bridegroom, the place where Thou art hidden.' It
asks for the revelation of the divine Essence
;
for the
place where the Son of God is hidden is, according to
St. John,
'
the bosom of the Father,'
*
which is the
divine Essence, transcending all mortal vision, and
hidden from all human understanding, as Isaias saith,
speaking to God,
'
Verily Thou art a hidden God.'
f
From
this we learn that the communication and sense of His
presence, however great they may be, and the most
sublime and profound knowledge of God which the soul
may have in this life, are not God essentially, neither
have they any affinity with Him, for in very truth He is
still hidden from the soul ; and it is therefore expedient
for it, amid all these grandeurs, always to consider Him
as hidden, and to seek Him in His hiding-place, saying,
*
'
3.
Neither sublime communications nor sensible
presence furnish any certain proof of His gracious pre-
sence
;
nor is the absence thereof, and aridity, any proof
of His absence from the soul.
'
If He come to me,
*
St. John i. 18.
t
Is. xlv. 15.
[STAN. I.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I7
I shall not see Him
;
if He depart, I shall not under-
stand.'
*
That is, if the soul have any great communica-
tion, or impression, or spiritual knowledge, it must not
on that account persuade itself that what it then feels
is to enjoy or see God clearly and in His Essence, or that
it brings it nearer to Him, or Him to it, however deep
such feelings may be. On the other hand, when all
these sensible and spiritual communications fail it, and
it is itself in dryness, darkness, and desolation, it must
not on that account suppose that God is far from it ; for
in truth the former state is no sign of its being in a state
of grace, nor is the latter a sign that it is not ; for
'
man
knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred
'
f
in the sight of God.
4.
The chief object of the soul in these words is
not to ask only for that affective and sensible devotion,
wherein there is no certainty or evidence of the posses-
sion of the Bridegroom in this life
;
but principally for
that clear presence and vision of His Essence, of which
it longs to be assured and satisfied in the next. This,
too, was the object of the bride who, in the divine song
desiring to be united to the Divinity of the Bridegroom
Word, prayed to the Father, saying,
'
Show me where
Thou feedest, where Thou hest in the midday.'
J
For to
ask to be shown the place where He fed was to ask to be
*
Job ix. II,
f
Eccles. ix. i.
|
Cant. i. 6.
2
l8 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. I.]
shown the Essence of the Divine Word, the Son
;
because
the Father feedeth nowhere else but in His only begotten
Son, Who is the glory of the Father. In asking to be
shown the place where He lieth in the midday, was to ask
for the same thing, because the Son is the sole delight of
the Father, Who lieth in no other place, and is com-
prehended by no other thing, but in and by His beloved
Son, in Whom He reposeth wholly, communicating to
Him His whole Essence, in the
'
midday,' which is
eternity, where the Father is ever begetting and the Son
ever begotten.
5.
This pasture, then, is the Bridegroom Word, where
the Father feedeth in infinite glory. He is also the bed
of flowers whereupon He reposes with infinite delight of
love, profoundly hidden from all mortal vision and
every created thing. This is the meaning of the bride-
soul when she says,
'
'
6. That the thirsty soul may find the Bridegroom,
and be one with Him in the union of love in this life
so far as that is possibleand quench its thirst with that

drink which it is possible to drink of at His hands in
this life, it will be as wellsince that is what the soul
asks of Himthat we should answer for Him, and point
out the special spot where He is hidden, that He may be
[STAN. I.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I9
found there in that perfection and sweetness of which
this hfe is capable, and that the soul may not begin to
loiter uselessly in the footsteps of its companions.
7.
We must remember that the Word, the Son of
God, together with the Father and the Holy Ghost, is
hidden in essence and in presence, in the inmost being of
the soul. That soul, therefore, that will find Him, must
go out from all things in will and affection, and enter into
the profoundest self-recollection, and all things must be
to it as if they existed not. Hence, St. Augustin saith :
*
I found Thee not without, O Lord ; I sought Thee
without in vain, for Thou art within.'
*
God is there-
fore hidden within the soul, and the true contemplative
will seek Him there in love, saying,
'
'
8. O thou soul, then, most beautiful of creatures, who
so longest to know the place where thy Beloved is, that
thou mayest seek Him, and be united to Him, thou
knowest now that thou art thyself that very tabernacle
where He dwells, the secret chamber of His retreat where
He is hidden. Rejoice, therefore, and exult, because all
thy good and all thy hope is so near thee as to be within
thee
;
or, to speak more accurately, that thou canst not
be without it,
'
for lo, the kingdom of God is within
* '
Soliloq.,' c. 31. Opp. Ed. Ben. torn. vi. app.
p. 98.
20
you.'
*
So saith the Bridegroom Himself, and His servant,
St. Paul, adds :
'
You are the temple of the living God.'
f
What joy for the soul to learn that God never abandons
it, even in mortal sin
;
how much less in a state of grace !
J
9.
What more canst thou desire, what more canst
thou seek without, seeing that within thou hast thy
riches, thy delight, thy satisfaction, thy fulness and thy
kingdom; that is, thy Beloved, Whom thou desirest and
seekest ? Rejoice, then, and be glad in Him with interior
recollection, seeing that thou hast Him so near. Then
love Him, then desire Him, then adore Him, and go not
to seek Him out of thyself, for that will be but distraction
and weariness, and thou shalt not find Him
;
because
there is no fruition of Him more certain, more ready,
or more intimate than that which is within.
10. One difficulty alone remains : though He is
within, yet He is hidden. But it is a great matter to
know the place of His secret rest, that He may be sought
there with certainty. The knowledge of this is that
which thou askest for here, O soul, when with loving
affection thou criest,
'
'
11. You ^\^ll still urge and say. How comes it, then,
that I find Him not, nor feel Him, if He is within my
*
St. Lukexvii.
21."'
f
aCor. vi. 16. + '
Mt. Carmcl, ' Bk. 2, c.
5, 3.
[STAN. I.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 21
soul ? It is because He is hidden, and because thou
hidest not thyself also that thou mayest find Him and
feel Him ;
for he that will seek that which is hidden must
enter secretly into the secret place where it is hidden, and
when he finds it, he is himself hidden like the object of
his search. Seeing, then, that the Bridegroom whom
thou lovest is
'
the treasure hidden in the field
'
*
of thy
soul, for which the wise merchant gave all that he had,
so thou, if thou wilt find Him, must forget all that is
thine, withdraw from all created things, and hide thyself
in the secret retreat of the spirit, shutting the door upon
thyselfthat is, denying thy will in all thingsand
praying to thy Father in secret. f Then thou, being
hidden with Him, wilt be conscious of His presence
in secret, and wilt love Him, possess Him in secret, and
delight in Him in secret, in a way that no tongue or
language can express.
12. Courage, then, O soul most beautiful, thou
knowest now that thy Beloved, Whom thou desirest,
dwelleth hidden within thy breast ; strive, therefore, to
be truly hidden with Him, and then thou shalt embrace
Him, and be conscious of His presence with loving
affection. Consider also that He bids thee, by the mouth
of Isaias, to come to His secret hiding-place, saying,
'
Go,
. . . enter into thy chambers, shut thy doors upon
*
St. Matt. xiii.
44. f
lb. vi. 6.
22 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. I.]
thee
'
;
that is, all thy faculties, so that no created thing
shall enter :
'
be hid a little for a moment,'
*
that is, for
the moment of this mortal life
;
for, if now during
this life which is short, thou wilt
'
with all watchfulness
keep thy heart,'
f
as the wise man saith, God will most
assuredly give thee, as He hath promised by the prophet
Isaias,
'
hidden treasures and mysteries of secrets.'
J
The substance of these secrets is God Himself, for He is
the substance of the faith, and the object of it, and the
faith is the secret and the mystery. And when that
which the faith conceals shall be revealed and made
manifest, that is the perfection of God, as St. Paul saith,
'
When that which is perfect is come,'

then shall be
revealed to the soul the substance and mysteries of these
secrets.
13.
Though in this mortal life the soul will never
reach to the interior secrets as it will in the next, however
much it may hide itself, still, if it will hide itself with
Moses,
'
in the hole of the rock
'
which is a real imitation
of the perfect life of the Bridegroom, the Son of God
protected by the right hand of God, it will merit the

vision of the
'
back parts
' ; ||
that is, it will reach to such
perfection here, as to be united, and transformed by love,
in the Son of God, its Bridegroom. So effectually will
*
Is. xxvi. 20.
I
Prov. iv.
23.
I
Is. xlv.
3,
I Cor. xiii. 10. || Exod. xxxiii. 2Z, 23.

23
this be wrought that the soul will feel itself so united to
Him, so learned and so instructed in His secrets, that, so
far as the knowledge of Him in this life is concerned, it
will be no longer necessary for it to say :
'
Where hast
Thou hidden Thyself ?
14.
Thou knowest then, O soul, how thou art to
demean thyself if thou wilt find the Bridegroom in His
secret place. But if thou wilt hear it again, hear this one
word full of substance and unapproachable truth : Seek
Him in faith and love, without seeking to satisfy thyself
in aught, or to understand more than is expedient for
thee to know
;
for faith and love are the two guides of
the blind
;
they will lead thee, by a way thou knowest not,
to the secret chamber of God. Faith, the secret of which
I am speaking, is the foot that journeys onwards to God,
and love is the guide that directs its steps. And while
the soul meditates on the mysterious secrets of the faith,
it will merit the revelation, on the part of love, of that
which the faith involves, namely, the Bridegroom Whom
it longs for, in this life by spiritual grace, and the divine
union, as we said before,* and in the next in essential
glory, face to face, hidden now.
15. But meanwhile, though the soul attains to union,
the highest state possible in this life, yet inasmuch as He
is still hidden from it in the bosom of the Father, as I have
*
4.
24
said, the soul longing for the fruition of Him in the life to
come, ever cries,
'
Where hast Thou hiddenThyself ?
'
i6. Thou doest well, then, O soul, in seeking Him
always in His secret place
;
for thou greatly magnifiest
God, and drawest near unto Him, esteeming Him as far
beyond and above all thou canst reach. Rest, therefore,
neither wholly nor in part, on what thy faculties can
embrace
;
never seek to satisfy thyself with what thou
comprehendest of God, but rather with what thou
comprehendest not ; and never rest on the love of, and
delight in, that which thou canst understand and feel, but
rather on that which is beyond thy understanding and
feeling : this is, as I have said, to seek Him by faith.
17. God is, as I said before,* inaccessible and hidden,
and though it may seem that thou hast found Him, felt
Him, and comprehended Him, yet thou must ever regard
Him as hidden, serve Him as hidden, in secret. Be not
thou like many unwise, who, with low views of God,
think that when they cannot comprehend Him, or be
conscious of His presence, that He is then farther away
and more hidden, when the contrary is true, namely,
that He is nearer to them when they are least aware of
it
;
as the prophet David saith,
'
He put darkness His
covert.'
t
Thus, when thou art near unto Him, the
very infirmity of thy vision makes the darkness palpable
;
*
2.
j
Ps. xvii. 12.
25
thou doest well, therefore, at all times, in prosperity as
well as in adversity, spiritual or temporal, to look upon
God as hidden, and to say unto Him,
'
Where hast Thou
hidden Thyself ?
(
And left me to my sorrow, O my Beloved ?
'
i8. The soul calls Him
'
my Beloved,' the more to
move Him to listen to its cry, for God, when loved, most
readily listens to the prayer of him who loves Him. Thus
He speaks Himself :
'
If you abide in Me . , . you shall
ask what thing soever you will, and it shall be done
to you.
'
*
The soul may then with truth call Him
Beloved, when it is wholly His, when the heart has no
attachments but Him, and when all the thoughts are
continually directed to Him. It was the absence of this
that made Delila say to Samson,
'
How dost thou say
thou lovest me when thy mind is not with me ?
'
f
The
mind comprises the thoughts and the feelings. Some there
are who call the Bridegroom their Beloved, but He is not
really beloved, because their heart is not wholly with Him.
Their prayers are, therefore, not so effectual before God,
and they shall not obtain their petitions until, persevering
in prayer, they fix their minds more constantly upon
God and their hearts more wholly in loving affection upon
Him, for nothing can be obtained from God but by love.
*
St. John XV.
7.
I
Judg. xvi. 15.
[STAN. I.]
19.
The words,
'
And left me to my sorrow,' tell us
that the absence of the Beloved is the cause of continual
sadness in him who loves
;
for as such an one loves none
else, so, in the absence of the object beloved, nothing
can console or relieve him. This is, therefore, a test
to discern the true lover of God. Is he satisfied with
anything less than God ? Do I say satisfied ? Yea,
if a man possess all things, he cannot be satisfied
;
the
greater his possessions the less will be his satisfaction,
for the satisfaction of the heart is not found in posses-
sions, but in detachment from all things and in poverty
of spirit. This being so, the perfection of love in which
we possess God, by a grace most intimate and special,
lives in the soul in this life when it has reached it, with
a certain satisfaction, which however is not full, for
David, notwithstanding all his perfection, hoped for that
in heaven, saying,
'
I shall be satisfied when Thy glory
shall appear.'
*
20. Thus, then, the peace and tranquillity and satis-
faction of heart to which the soul may attain in this life
are not sufficient to relieve it from its groaning, peaceful
and painless though it be, while it hopes for that which
is still wanting. Groaning belongs to hope, as the Apostle
says of himself and others, though perfect,
'
Ourselves
also, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we
*
Ps. xvi.
15.
27
ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption
of the sons of God.'
*
The soul groans when the heart is
enamoured, for where love wounds there is heard the
groaning of the wounded one, complaining feelingly of the
absence of the Beloved, especially when, after tasting
of the sweet converse of the Bridegroom, it finds itself
suddenly alone, and in aridity, because He has gone
away. That is why it cries,
'
Thou hast fled like the hart.'
21. Here it is to be observed that in the Canticle of
Canticles the bride compares the Bridegroom to the roe
and the hart on the mountains
' My Beloved is like unto

a roe and to a fawn of harts '
f
not only because He is
shy, solitary, and avoids companions as the hart, but also
for his sudden appearance and disappearance. That is
His way in His visits to devout souls in order to comfort
and encourage them, and in the withdrawing and absence
which He makes them feel after those visits in order to
try, humble, and teach them. For that purpose He makes
them feel the pain of His absence most keenly, as the
following words show
:
'
Having wounded me.'
22. It is as if it had said,
'
It was not enough that T
*
Rom. viii,
23.
f
Cant, ii,
9.
28 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. I.]
should feel the pain and grief which Thy absence causes,
and from which I am continually suffering, but Thou
must, after wounding me with the arrow of Thy love,
and increasing my longing and desire to see Thee, run
away from me with the swiftness of the hart, and not
permit me to lay hold of Thee, even for a moment.'
23.
For the clearer understanding of this we are to
keep in mind that, beside the many kinds of God's visits
to the soul, in which He wounds it with love, there are
commonly certain secret touches of love, which, like a
fiery arrow, pierce and penetrate the soul, and burn it
with the fire of love. These are properly called the
wounds of love, and it is of these the soul is here speaking.
These wounds so inflame the will, that the soul becomes
so enveloped with the fire of love as to appear consumed
thereby. They make it go forth out of itself, and be
renewed, and enter on another life, as the phoenix from
the fire.
24.
David, speaking of this, saith,
'
My heart hath
been inflamed, and my reins have been changed
;
and
I am brought to nothing, and I knew not.'
*
The desires
and affections, called the reins by the prophet, are all
stirred and divinely changed in this burning of the
heart, and the soul, through love, melts into nothing,
knowing nothing but love. At this time the changing
*
Ps. Ixxii. 21, 22.
29
of the reins is a great pain, and longing for the vision
of God ;
it seems to the soul that God treats it with
intolerable severity, so much so that the severity with
which love treats it seems to the soul unendurable, not
because it is woundedfor it considers such wounds to
be its salvationbut because it is thus suffering from
its love, and because He has not wounded it more deeply,
so as to cause death, that it may be united to Him in the
life of perfect love. The soul, therefore, magnifying
its sorrows, or revealing them, says,
'
Having wounded me.'
25. The soul says in effect,
'
Thou hast abandoned
me after wounding me, and Thou hast left me dying of
love
;
and then Thou hast hidden Thyself as a hart
swiftly running away.' This impression is most pro-
found in the soul ; for by the wound of love, made
in the soul by God, the affections of the will lead most
rapidly to the possession of the Beloved, whose touch
it felt, and as rapidly also. His absence, and its inability
to have the fruition of Him here as it desires. There-
upon succeed the groaning because of His absence
;
for
these visitations of God are not like those which recreate
and satisfy the soul, because they are rather for wounding
than for healingmore for afflicting than for satisfying
it, seeing that they tend rather to quicken the knowledge,
30
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAX. I.]
and increase the longing, and consequently pain with the
longing for the vision of God. They are called the
spiritual wounds of love, most sweet to the soul and
desirable ; and, therefore, when it is thus wounded
the soul would willingly die a thousand deaths, because
these wounds make it go forth out of itself, and enter
into God, which is the meaning of the words that follow :
'
I ran after Thee, crying
;
but Thou wert gone.'
26. There can be no remedy for the wounds of love
but from Him who inflicted them. And so the wounded
soul, urged by the vehemence of that burning which
the wounds of love occasion, runs after the Beloved,
crying unto Him for relief. This spiritual running after
God has a two-fold meaning. The first is a going forth
from all created things, which is effected by hating and
despising them
;
the second, a going forth out of oneself,
by forgetting self, which is brought about by the love of
God. For when the love of God touches the soul with
that vividness of which we are here speaking, it so elevates
it, that it goes forth not only out of itself by self-forget-
fulness, but is also drawn away from its own judgment,
natural ways and inclinations, crying after God,
'
O my
Bridegroom,' as if saying,
'
By this touch of Thine and
wound of love hast Thou drawn me away not only from
all created things, but also from myselffor, in truth,
[STAN. I.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 3I
soul and body seem now to partand raised me up
to Thyself, crying after Thee in detachment from all
things that I might be attached to Thee :
'Thou wert gone.'
27.
As if saying,
'
When I sought Thy presence, I found
Thee not
;
and I was detached from all things without
being able to cHng to Theeborne painfully by the gales
of love without help in Thee or in myself. This going
forth of the soul in search of the Beloved is the rising of
the bride in the Canticle :
'
I will rise and go about the
city
;
in the streets and the high ways I will seek Him
Whom my soul loveth. I have sought Him and have not
found . . . they wounded me,'
*
The rising of the bride
speaking spirituallyis from that which is mean to
that which is noble
;
and is the same with the going forth
of the soul out of its own ways and inferior love to the
ennobling love of God. The bride says that she was
wounded because she found him not
;
t
so the soul also
says of itself that it is wounded with love and forsaken
;
that is, the loving soul is ever in pain during the absence
of the Beloved, because it has given itself up wholly unto
Him, hoping for the reward of its self-surrender, the
possession of the Beloved. Still the Beloved withholds
Himself while the soul has lost all things, and even itself,
*
Cant. iii. 2, v.
7. t
lb. v.
6, 7.
32
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. II.]
for Him
;
it obtains no compensation for its loss, seeing
that it is deprived of Him whom it loveth.
28. This pain and sense of the absence of God is
wont to be so oppressive in those who are going onwards
to the state of perfection, that they would die if God did
not interpose when the divine wounds are inflicted upon
them. As they have the palate of the will wholesome,
and the mind pure and disposed for God, and as they
taste in some degree of the sweetness of divine love,
which they supremely desire, so they also suffer supremely
;
for, having but a glimpse of an infinite good which they
are not permitted to enjoy, that is to them an ineffable
pain and torment.
STANZA II
O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If
you shall see
Him Whom I love.
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.
The soul would now employ intercessors and mediators
between itself and the Beloved, praying them to make its
sufferings and afflictions known. One in love, when
he cannot converse personally with the object of his love,
will do so in the best way he can. Thus the soul employs
its affections, desires, and groanings as messengers well
I
STAN. II.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
33
able to manifest the secret of its heart to the Be-
loved. Accordingly, it calls upon them to do this,
saying :
'
O shepherds, you who go.'
2. The shepherds are the affections, and desires, and
groanings of the soul, for they feed it with spiritual good
things. A shepherd is one who feeds : and by means of
such God communicates Himself to the soul and feeds it
in the divine pastures
;
for without these groans and
desires He communicates but slightly with it.
'
You who go.'
You who go forth in pure love
;
for all desires and affec-
tions do not reach God, but only those which proceed
from sincere love.
'
Through the sheepcots up the hill.'
3.
The sheepcots are the heavenly hierarchies, the
angelic choirs, by whose ministry, from choir to choir,
our prayers and sighs ascend to God
;
that is, to the
*
hill,' for He is the highest eminence, and because in
Him, as on a hill, we observe and behold all things, the
higher and the lower sheepcots. To Him our prayers
ascend, offered by angels, as I have said
;
so the angel
said to Tobias :
'
When thou didst pray with tears, and
3
34
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. II.]
didst bury the dead ... I offered thy prayer to the
Lord.'
*
4.
The shepherds also are the angels themselves,
who not only carry our petitions to God, but also bring
down the graces of God to our souls, feeding them like
good shepherds with the sweet communications and
inspirations of God, Who employs them in that ministry.
They also protect us and defend us against the wolves,
which are the evil spirits. And thus, whether we under-
stand the affections or the angels by the shepherds,
the soul calls upon both to be its messengers to the
Beloved, and thus addresses them all
:
'
If you shall see Him.'
That is to say :
5.
If, to my great happiness, you shall come into
His presence, so that He shall see you and hear your
words. God, indeed, knoweth all things, even the very
thoughts of the soul, as He said unto Moses, f but it is
then He beholds our necessities when He relieves them,
and hears our prayers when He grants them. God does
not see all necessities and hear all petitions until the time
appointed shall have come
;
it is then that He is said to
hear and see, as we learn in the book of Exodus. When
the children of Israel had been afflicted for four hundred
*
Tob. xii. 12.
I
Deut. xxxi. 21.
[STAN. II.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
35
years as serfs in Egypt, God said unto Moses,
'
I have
seen the affliction of my people in Egypt, and I have
heard their cry, and ... I am come down to dehver
them.'
*
And yet He had seen it always. So also
St. Gabriel bade Zacharias not to fear, because God had
heard his prayer, and would grant him the son, for whom
he had been praying for many years
;
f
yet God had
always heard him. Every soul ought to consider that
God, though He does not at once help us and grant our
petitions, will still succour us in His own time, for He is,
as David saith,
'
a helper in due time in tribulation,'
J
if
we do not become faint-hearted and cease to pray. This
is what the soul means by saying,
'
If you shall see Him
'
;
that is to say, if the time is come when it shall be His
good pleasure to grant my petitions.
6. 'Whom I love the most': that is, whom I love
more than all creatures. This is true of the soul when
nothing can make it afraid to do and suffer all things
in His service. And when the soul can also truly say
that which follows, it is a sign that it loves Him above
all things :
'
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.'
7.
Here the soul speaks of three things that distress
it : namely, languor, suffering, and death
;
for the soul
*
Exod. iii.
7,
8.
f
St. Luke i. 13.
I
Ps. ix. 10
36 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. II.]
that truly loves God with a love in some degree perfect,
suffers in three ways in His absence, in its three powers
ordinarilythe understanding, the will, and the memory.
In the understanding it languishes because it does not
see God, Who is the salvation of it, as the Psalmist saith :
'
I am thy salvation.'
*
In the will it suffers, because
it possesses not God, Who is its comfort and delight,
as David also saith :
'
Thou shalt make them drink of
the torrent of Thy pleasure.'
f
In the memory it dies,
because it remembers its privation of all the blessings
of the understanding, which are the vision of God, and
of the delights of the will, which are the fruition of Him,
and that it is very possible also that it may lose Him for
ever, because of the dangers and chances of this life.
In the memory, therefore, the soul labours under a
sensation like that of death, because it sees itself without
the certain and perfect fruition of God, Who is the
life of the soul, as Moses saith :
'
He is thy life.'
|
8. Jeremias also, in the Lamentations, speaks of these
three things, praying unto God, and saying :
'
Remember
my poverty . . . the wormwood and the gall.'

Poverty
relates to the understanding, to which appertain the
riches of the knowledge of the Son of God,
'
in whom
all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hid.'
||
*
Ps. xxxiv.
3.
t
lb. XXXV.
9.
J
Deut. xxx. 20.
? Lam. iii. 19. Col. ii.
3.
[STAN. II.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
37
The wormwood, which is a most bitter herb, relates to
the will, to which appertains the sweetness of the frui-
tion of God, deprived of which it abides in bitterness.
We learn in the Apocalypse that bitterness appertains
spiritually to the will, for the angel said to St. John :
'
Take the book and eat it up ;
and it shall make thy
belly bitter.'
*
Here the belly signifies the will. The
gall relates not only to the memory, but also to all the
powers and faculties of the soul, for it signifies the death
thereof, as we learn from Moses speaking of the damned :
'
Their wine is the gall of dragons, and the venom of asps,
which is incurable.'
f
This signifies the loss of God,
which is the death of the soul.
9.
These three things which distress the soul are
grounded on the three theological virtuesfaith, charity,
and hope, which relate, in the order here assigned them,
to the three faculties of the soulunderstanding, will, and
memory. Observe here that the soul does no more than
represent its miseries and pain to the Beloved : for he
who loves wisely does not care to ask for that which
he wants and desires, being satisfied with hinting at
his necessities, so that the beloved one may do what
shall to him seem good. Thus the Blessed Virgin at the
marriage feast of Cana asked not directly for wine, but
only said to her beloved Son,
*
They have no wine.'
|
*
Apoc. X.
9.
f
Deut. xxxii.
33.
J
St. John ii.
3.
38
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. III.]
The sisters of Lazarus sent to Him, not to ask Him to
heal their brother, but only to say that he whom He
loved was sick :
'
Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest
is sick.'
*
10. There are three reasons for this. Our Lord knows
what is expedient for us better than we do ourselves.
Secondly, the Beloved is more compassionate towards
us when He sees our necessities and our resignation.
Thirdly, we are more secured against self-love and self-
seeking when we represent our necessity, than when
we ask for that which we think we need. It is in this
way that the soul represents its three necessities
;
as
if it said :
'
Tell my Beloved, that as I languish, and
as He only is my salvation, to save me ;
that as I am
suffering, and as He only is my joy, to give me joy
;
that as I am dying, and as He only is my life, to give
me life.'
STANZA HI
In search of
my Love
I will go over mountains and strands
;
I will gather no flowers,
;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.
The soul, observing that its sighs and prayers suffice
not to find the Beloved, and that it has not been helped
*
St. John
xi.
3.
[STAN. III.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
39
by the messengers it invoked in the first and second
stanzas, will not, because its searching is real and its
love great, leave undone anything itself can do. The
soul that really loves God is not dilatory in its efforts
to find the Son of God, its Beloved
;
and, even when it
has done all it could it is still not satisfied, thinking it
has done nothing. Accordingly, the soul is now, in
this third stanza, actively seeking the Beloved, and
saying how He is to be found ;
namely, in the practice
of all virtue and in the spiritual exercises of the active
and contemplative life
;
for this end it rejects all de-
lights and all comforts
;
and all the power and wiles of its
three enemies, the world, the devil, and the flesh, are
unable to delay it or hinder it on the road.
'
In search of my Love.'
2. Here the soul makes it known that to find God
it is not enough to pray with the heart and the tongue,
or to have recourse to the help of others
;
we must
also work ourselves, according to our power. God
values one effort of our own more than many of others
on our behalf ; the soul, therefore, remembering the
saying of the Beloved,
'
Seek and you shall find,'
*
is resolved on going forth, as I said just now, to seek
Him actively, and not rest till it finds Him, as many
*
St Luke xi.
9.
40
do who will not that God should cost them anything
but words, and even those carelessly uttered, and for
His sake will do nothing that will cost them anything.
Some, too, will not leave for His sake a place which
is to their taste and liking, expecting to receive all the
sweetness of God in their mouth and in their heart
without moving a step, without mortifying themselves
by the abandonment of a single pleasure or useless
comfort.
3.
But until they go forth out of themselves to seek
Him, however loudly they may cry they will not find
Him
;
for the bride in the Canticle sought Him in this
way, but she found Him not until she went out to seek
Him :
'
In my little bed in the nights I have sought
Him Whom my soul loveth : I have sought Him and
have not found Him. I will rise and will go about the
city : by the streets and highways I will seek Him Whom
my soul loveth.'
*
She afterwards adds that when she
had endured certain trials she
'
found Him.'
f
4.
He, therefore, who seeks God, consulting his own
ease and comfort, seeks Him by night, and therefore
finds Him not. But he who seeks Him in the practice
of virtue and of good works, casting aside the comforts
of his own bed, seeks Him by day ;
such an one shall
find Him, for that which is not seen by night is visible
*
Cant. iii. i.
f
lb. iii.
4.
[STAN. III.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 4I
by day. The Bridegroom Himself teaches us this,
saying,
'
Wisdom is clear and never fadeth away, and
is easily seen of them that love her, and is found of
them that seek her. She preventeth them that covet
her, that she first may show herself unto them. He
that awaketh early to seek her shall not labour
;
for
he shall find her sitting at his doors.'
*
The soul that
will go out of the house of its own will, and abandon
the bed of its own satisfaction, will find the divine Wis-
dom, the Son of God, the Bridegroom waiting at the door
without, and so the soul says :
'
I will go over mountains and strands.'
5.
Mountains, which are lofty, signify virtues, partly
on account of their height and partly on account of the
toil and labour of ascending them
;
the soul says it will
ascend to them in the practice of the contemplative
life. Strands, which are low, signify mortifications,
penances, and the spiritual exercises, and the soul will
add to the active life that of contemplation
;
for both
are necessary in seeking after God and in acquiring
virtue. The soul says, in effect,
'
In searching after my
Beloved I will practise great virtue, and abase myself
by lowly mortifications and acts of humility
;
for the
way to seek God is to do good works in Him, and to
*
Wisd, vi. 13.
42
mortify the evil in ourselves, as it is said in the words
that follow
:
'
I will gather no flowers.'
6. He that will seek after God must have his heart
detached, resolute, and free from all evils, and from all
goods which are not simply God
;
that is the meaning
of these words. The words that follow describe the
liberty and courage which the soul must possess in search-
ing after God. Here it declares that it will gather no
flowers by the waythe flowers are all the delights,
satisfactions, and pleasures which this life offers, and
which, if the soul sought or accepted, would hinder
it on the road.
7.
These flowers are of three kindstemporal, sensual,
and spiritual. All of them occupy the heart, and stand
in the way of the spiritual detachment required in the
way of Christ, if we regard them or rest in them. The
soul, therefore, says, that it will not stop to gather
any of them, that it may seek after God. It seems
to say, I will not set my heart upon riches or the goods
of this world
;
I will not indulge in the satisfactions
and ease of the flesh, neither will I consult the taste
and comforts of my spirit, in order that nothing may
detain me in my search after my Love on the toilsome
mountains of virtue. This means that it accepts the
counsel of the prophet David to those who travel on
43
this road :
'
If riches abound, set not your heart upon
them.'
*
This is apphcable to sensual satisfactions,
as well as to temporal goods and spiritual consolations.
8. From this we learn that not only temporal goods
and bodily pleasures hinder us on the road to God,
but spiritual delight and consolations also, if we attach
ourselves to them or seek them ;
for these things are
hindrances on the way of the cross of Christ, the Bride-
groom. He, therefore, that will go onwards must not
only not stop to gather flowers, but must also have
the courage and resolution to say as follows :
*
;
and I will go over
the mighty and the frontiers.'
Here we have the three enemies of the soul which make
war against it, and make its way full of difficulties.
The wild beasts are the world ; the mighty, the devil
;
and the frontiers are the flesh.
9.
The world is the wild beasts, because in the be-
ginning of the heavenly journey the imagination pictures
the world to the soul as wild beasts, threatening and
fierce, principally in three ways. The first is, we must
forfeit the world's favour, lose friends, credit, reputation,
and property
;
the second is not less cruel : we must
suffer the perpetual deprivation of all the comforts
*
Ps. Ixi. II.
44
and pleasures of the world
;
and the third is still worse :
evil tongues will rise against us, mock us, and speak
of us with contempt. This strikes some persons so
vividly that it becomes most difficult for them, I do not
say to persevere, but even to enter on this road at all.
10. But there are generous souls who have to encounter
wild beasts of a more interior and spiritual nature
trials, temptations, tribulations, and afflictions of divers

kinds, through which they must pass. This is what
God sends to those whom He is raising upwards to
high perfection, proving them and trying them as gold
in the fire
;
as David saith :
'
Many are the tribulations
of the just
;
and out of all these our Lord will deliver
them.'
*
But the truly enamoured soul, preferring the
Beloved above all things, and relying on His love and
favour, finds no difficulty in saying :
'
I will fear no wild beasts.'
'
And pass over the mighty and the frontiers.'
11. Evil spirits, the second enemy of the soul, are
called the mighty, because they strive with all their
might to seize on the passes of the spiritual road
;
and
because the temptations they suggest are harder to
overcome, and the craft they employ more difficult
to detect, than all the seductions of the world and the
*
Ps. xxxiii. 20.
45
flesh
;
and because, also, they strengthen their own
position by the help of the world and the flesh in order
to fight vigorously against the soul. Hence the Psalmist
calls them mighty, saying :
'
The mighty have sought
after my soul.'
*
The prophet
Job
also speaks of
their might :
'
There is no power upon the earth that
may be compared with him who was made to fear no
man.'
f
12. There is no human power that can be compared
with the power of the devil, and therefore the divine
power alone can overcome him, and the divine light
alone can penetrate his devices. No soul therefore can
overcome his might without prayer, or detect his illu-
sions without humility and mortification. Hence the
exhortation of St. Paul to the faithful :
'
Put you on the
armour of God, that you may stand against the deceits
of the devil : for our wrestling is not against flesh and
blood.'
X
Blood here is the world, and the armour of
God is prayer and the cross of Christ, wherein consist
the humility and mortification of which I have spoken.
13.
The soul says also that it will cross the frontiers :
these are the natural resistance and rebellion of the flesh
against the spirit, for, as St. Paul saith, the
'
flesh lusteth
against the spirit,'

and sets itself as a frontier against
the soul on its spiritual road. This frontier the soul
*
Ps. liii.
5.
t
Job xli. 24.
J
Eph. vi. 11, Gal. v.
17.
46
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. IV.]
must cross, surmounting difficulties, and trampling under-
foot all sensual appetites and all natural affections with
great courage and resolution of spirit : for while they
remain in the soul, the spirit will be by them hindered
from advancing to the true life and spiritual delight.
This is set clearly before us by St. Paul, saying :
'
If
by the spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you
shall live.'
*
This, then, is the process which the soul
in this stanza says it becomes it to observe on the way
to seek the Beloved : which briefly is a firm resolution
not to stoop to gather flowers by the way
;
courage not
to fear the wild beasts, and strength to pass by the
mighty and the frontiers
;
intent solely on going over
the mountains and the strands of the virtues, in the
way just explained.
STANZA IV
O groves and thickets.
Planted by the hand
of
the Beloved.
O verdant meads
Enamelled with flowers.
The disposition requisite for entering on the spiritual
journey, abstinence from joys and pleasure, being now
described
;
and the courage also with which to overcome
*
Rom. viii. 13.
[STAN. IV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
47
temptations and trials, wherein consists the practice of
self-knowledge, which is the first step of the soul to the
knowledge of God. Now, in this stanza the soul begins
to advance through consideration and knowledge of
creatures to the knowledge of the Beloved their Creator.
For the consideration of the creature, after the practice
of self-knowledge, is the first in order on the spiritual
road to the knowledge of God, Whose grandeur and
magnificence they declare, as the Apostle saith :
'
For
His invisible things from the creation of the world
are seen, being understood by these things that are
made.'
*
It is as if he said,
'
The invisible things of
God are made known to the soul by created things,
visible and invisible.'
2. The soul, then, in this stanza addresses itself to
creatures inquiring after the Beloved, And we observe,
as St. Augustine
t
says, that the inquiry made of creatures
is a meditation on the Creator, for which they furnish the
matter. Thus, in this stanza the soul meditates on the
elements and the rest of the lower creation
;
on the
heavens, and on the rest of created and material things
which God has made therein
;
also on the heavenly
spirits, saying :
*
O groves and thickets.'
*
Rom. i. 20.
t
Conf. x. 6.
48
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. IV.]
3.
The groves are the elements, earth, water, air, and
fire. As the most pleasant groves are studded with plants
and shrubs, so the elements are thick with creatures, and
here are called thickets because of the number and variety
of creatures in each. The earth contains innumerable
varieties of animals and plants, the water of fish, the air
of birds, and fire concurs with all in animating and
sustaining them. Each kind of animal lives in its proper
element, placed and planted there, as in its o\\ti grove
and soil where it is born and nourished
;
and, in truth,
God so ordered it when He made them
;
He commanded
the earth to bring forth herbs and animals
;
the waters
and the sea, fish
;
and the air He gave as an habitation to
birds. The soul, therefore, considering that this is the
effect of His commandment, cries out,
*
Planted by the hand of the Beloved.'
4.
That which the soul considers now is this : the
hand of God the Beloved only could have created and
nurtured all these varieties and wonderful things. The
soul says deliberately,
'
by the hand of the Beloved,'
because God doeth many things by the hands of others,
as of angels and men ;
but the work of creation has never
been, and never is, the work of any other hand than
His own. Thus the soul, considering +he creaton, is
profoundly stirred up to love God the Beloved for it
[STAN. IV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
49
beholds all things to be the work of His hands, and goes
on to say :
'
O verdant meads.'
5.
These are the heavens
;
for the things which He
hath created in the heavens are of incorruptible freshness,
which neither perish nor wither \vith time, where the just
are refreshed as in the green pastures. The present
consideration includes all the varieties of the stars in
their beauty, and the other works in the heavens.
6. The Church also applies the term
'
verdure
'
to
heavenly things
;
for while praying to God for the
departing soul, it addresses it as follows :
'
May Christ,
the Son of the living God, give thee a place in the ever-
pleasant verdure of His paradise.'
*
The soul also says
that this verdant mead is
'
Enamelled with flowers.'
7.
The flowers are the angels and the holy souls who
adorn and beautify that place, as costly and fine enamel
on a vase of pure gold.
'
'
8. This inquiry is the consideration of the creature
just spoken of, and is in effect : Tell me, what perfections
has He created in you ?
*
Ordo commendationis animje.
50
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. V.]
STANZA V
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES
A thousand graces diffusing.
He passed the groves in haste,
And merely regarding them
As He passed.
Clothed them with His beauty.
This is the answer of the creatures to the soul which,
according to St. Augustine, in the same place, is the
testimony which they furnish to the majesty and per-
fections of God, for which it asked in its meditation
on created things. The meaning of this stanza is, in
substance, as follows : God created all things with great
ease and rapidity, and left in them some tokens of Him-
self, not only by creating them out of nothing, but also
by endowing them with innumerable graces and qualities,
making them beautiful in admirable order and unceasing
mutual dependence. All this He wrought in wisdom,
by which He created them, which is the Word, His only
begotten Son. Then the soul says :
'
A thousand graces diffusing.'
2. These graces are the innumerable multitude of
His creatures. The term
'
thousand,' which the soul
makes use of, denotes not their number, but the im-
possibility of numbering them. They are called graces,
[STAN, v.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
51
because of the qualities with which He has endowed
them. He is- said to diffuse them because He fills the
whole world with them.
'
He passed through the groves in haste.'
3.
To pass through the groves is to create the
elements
;
here called groves, through which He is said
to pass, diffusing a thousand graces, because He adorned
them with creatures which are all beautiful. Moreover,
He diffused among them a thousand graces, giving the
power of generation and self-conservation. He is said to
pass through, because the creatures are, as it were, traces
of the passage of God, revealing His majesty, power, and
wisdom, and His other divine attributes. He is said to
pass in haste, because the creatures are the least of the
works of God : He made them, as it were, in passing.
His greatest works, wherein He is most visible and at
rest, are the incarnation of the Word and the mysteries
of the Christian faith, in comparison with which all His
other works were works wrought in passing and in haste.
'
And thereby regarding them
As He passed.
Clothed them with His beauty.'
4.
The Son of God is, in the words of St. Paul, the
'
brightness of His glory and the figure of His substance.'
*
*
Heb. i.
3.
52
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. V.]
God saw all things only in the face of His Son. This
was to give them their natural being, bestowing upon
them many graces and natural gifts, making them perfect,
as it is written in the book of Genesis :
'
God saw all the
things that He had made : and they were very good.'
*
To see all things very good was to make them very good
in the Word, His Son. He not only gave them their
being and their natural graces when He beheld them, but
He also clothed them with beauty in the face of His Son,
commun'cating to them a supernatural being when He
made man, and exalted him to the beauty of God, and,
by consequence, all creatures in him, because He united
Himself to the nature of them all in man. For this
cause the Son of God Himself said,
'
And I, if I be lifted
up from the earth will draw all things to Myself.'
f
And
thus in this exaltation of the incarnation of His Son, and
the glory of His resurrection according to the flesh, the
Father not only made all things beautiful in part, but
also, we may well say, clothed them wholly with beauty
and dignity.
NOTE
But beyond all thisspeaking now of contemplation as it
affects the soul and makes an impression on itin the
vivid contemplatioTj and knowledge of created things
*
Gen. i. 31.
t
St. John xii. 32.
[STAN. VI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
53
the soul beholds such a multipLcity of graces, powers,
and beauty wherewith God has endowed them, that they
seem to it to be clothed with admirable beauty and
supernatural vrtue derived from the infinite super-
natural beauty of the face of God, Whose beholding of
them clothed the heavens and the earth with beauty
and joy
;
as it is written :
'
Thou openest Thy hand and
fillest with blessing every living creature.'
*
Hence the
soul wounded with love of that beauty of the Beloved
which it traces in created things, and anxious to behold
that beauty which is the source of this visible beauty,
sings as in the
following
stanza :
STANZA VI
THE BRIDE
Oh, who can heal me ?
Give me perfectly Thyself,
Send me no mere
A messenger
Who cannot tell me what 1 wish.
As created things furnish to the soul traces of the
Beloved, and exhibit the impress of His beauty and
magnificence, the love of the soul increases, and con-
sequently the pain of His absence : for the greater the
soul's knowledge of God the greater its desire to see Him,
*
Ps. cxliv. 16.
54
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. VI.]
and its pain when it cannot
;
and as it sees there is no
remedy for this pain except in the presence and vision of
the Beloved, distrustful of every other remedy, it prays
in this stanza for the fruition of His presence, saying :
'
Entertain me no more with any knowledge or communica-
tions or impressions of Thy grandeur, for these do but
increase my longing and the pain of Thy absence
;
Thy
presence alone can satisfy my will and desire.' The will
cannot be satisfied with anything less than the vision of
God, and therefore the soul prays that He may be pleased
to give Himself to it in truth, in perfect love.
'
Oh ! who can heal me ?
'
2. That is, there is nothing in all the delights of the
world, nothing in the satisfaction of the senses, nothing
in the sweet taste of the .spirit that can heal or content me,
and therefore it adds :
'
Give me at once Thyself.'
3.
No soul that really loves can be satisfied or content
short of the fruition of God. For everything else, as I
have just said, not only does not satisfy the soul, but
rather increases the hunger and thirst of seeing Him as
He is. Thus every glimpse of the Beloved, every know-
ledge and impress" on or communication from Himthese
are the messengers suggestive of Himincrease and
[STAN. VI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
55
quicken the soul's desire after Him, as crumbs of food
in hunger stimulate the appetite. The soul, therefore,
mourning over the misery of being entertained by matters
of so little moment, cries out :
'
Give me perfectly Thyself.'
4.
Now all our knowledge of God in this life, how
great soever it may be, is not a perfectly true knowledge
of Him, because it is partial and incomplete
;
but to
know Him essentially is true knowledge, and that is it
which the soul prays for here, not satisfied with any
other kind. Hence it says :
'
Send me no more a messenger.'
5.
That is, grant that I may no longer know Thee in
this imperfect way by the messengers of knowledge and
impressions, which are so distant from that which my
soul desires
;
for these messengers, as Thou well knowest,
O my Bridegroom, do but increase the pain of Thy
absence. They renew the wound which Thou hast
inflicted by the knowledge of Thee which they convey,
and they seem to delay Thy coming. Henceforth do
Thou send me no more of these inadequate communica-
tions, for if I have been hitherto satisfied with them, it
was owing to the slightness of my knowledge and of my
love : now that my love has become great, I cannot
56
A SPIRITUAL
CANTICLE [STAN. VI.]
satisfy myself with them ;
do Thou, therefore, give me at
once Thyself.
6. This, more clearly expressed, is as follows :
'
O Lord,
my Bridegroom,
Who didst give me Thyself partially
before, give me Thyself wholly now. Thou who didst
show glimpses of Thyself before, show Thyself clearly
now. Thou who didst communicate Thyself hitherto by
the instrumentahty of messengersit was as if Thou
didst mock me
give Thyself by Thyself now. Some-

times when Thou didst visit me Thou didst give me the
pearl of Thy possession, and, when I began to examine it,
lo, it was gone, for Thou hadst hidden it Thyself : it was
like a mockery. Give me then Thyself in truth, Thy
whole self, that I may have Thee wholly to myself wholly,
and send me no messengers again.'
'
Who cannot tell me what I wish.'
7.
'
I wish for Thee wholly, and Thy messengers neither
know Thee wholly, nor can they speak of Thee wholly,
for there is nothing in earth or heaven that can furnish
that knowledge to the soul which it longs for. They
cannot tell me, therefore, what I wish. Instead, then,
of these messengers, be Thou the messenger and the
message.'
[STAN. VII] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
57
STANZA VII
AII they who serve are telling me
Of
Thy unnumbered graces
;
And all wound me more and more
And something leaves me dying, I know not what.
Of
which they are darkly speaking.
The soul describes itself in the foregoing stanza as
wounded, or sick with love of the Bridegroom, because
of the knowledge of Him which the irrational creation
supplies, and in the present, as wounded with love
because of the other and higher knowledge which it
derives from the rational creation, nobler than the
former
;
that is, angels and men. This is not all, for
the soul says also that it is dying of love, because of
that marveJous immensity not wholly but partially
revealed to it through the rational creation. This it
calls
'
I know not what,' because it cannot be described,
and because it is such that the soul dies of it.
2. It seems, from this, that there are three kinds of
pain in the soul's love of the Beloved, corresponding to
the three kinds of knowledge that can be had of Him.
The first is called a wound
;
not deep, but slight, like a
wound which heals quickly, because it comes from its
knowledge of the creatures, which are the lowest works
of God. This wounding of the soul, called also sickness,
is thus spoken of by the bride in the Canticle :
'
I adjure
58
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. VII.]
you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved,
that you tell Him that I languish with love.'* The
daughters of Jerusalem are the creatures.
3.
The second is called a sore which enters deeper
than a wound into the soul, and is, therefore, of longer
continuance, because it is as a wound festering, on
account of which the soul feels that it is really dying of
love. This sore is the effect of the knowledge of the
works of God, the incarnation of the Word, and the
mysteries of the faith. These being the greatest works
of God, and involving a greater love than those of
creation, produce a greater effect of love in the soul. If
the first kind of pain be as a wound, this must be like
a festering, continuous sore. Of this speaks the Bride-
groom, addressing Himself to the bride, saying :
'
Thou
hast wounded my heart, my sister, my bride
;
thou hast
wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one hair
of thy neck.'
f
The eye signifies faith in the incarnation of
the Bridegroom, and the one hair is the love of the same.
4.
The third kind of pain is like dying
;
it is as if
the whole soul were festering because of its wound. It
is dying a living death until love, having slain it, shall
make it live the life of love, transforming it in love.
This dying of love is effected by a single touch of the
knowledge of the Divinity
;
it is the
'
I know not what,'
*
Cant. T. 8.
f
lb. iv.
9,
[STAN. VII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
59
of which the creatures, as in the stanza is said, are speaking
indistinctly. This touch is not continuous nor great,
for then soul and body would partbut soon over, and
thus the soul is dying of love, and dying the more when
it sees that it cannot die of love.* This is called im-
patient love, which is spoken of in the book of Genesis,
where the Scripture saith that Rachel's love of children
was so great that she said to Jacob her husband,
'
Give
me children, otherwise I shall die.'
f
And the prophet
Job
said,
'
Who will grant that . . . He that hath begun
the same would cut me off.'
J
5.
These two-fold pains of lovethat is, the wound
and the dyingare in the stanza said to be merely the
rational creation. The wound, when it speaks of the
unnumbered graces of the Beloved in the mysteries and
wisdom of God taught by the faith. The dying, when it
is said that the rational creation speaks indistinctly. This is
a sense and knowledge of the Divinity sometimes revealed
when the soul hears God spoken of. Therefore it says :
'
All they who serve.'
6. That is, the rational creation, angels and men
;
for these alone are they who serve God, understanding
by that word intelligent service ; that is to say, all
they who serve God. Some serve Him by contemplation
*
See
'
Living Flame,' stanza iii. line
3,
20.
j
Gen. xxx, i.
J
Job vi. 8, 9.
60 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. VII.]
and fruition in heaventhese are the angels
;
others
by loving and longing for Him on earththese are
men. And because the soul learns to know God more
distinctly through the rational creation, whether by
considering its superiority over the rest of creation, or
by what it teaches us of Godthe angels interiorly by
secret inspirations, and men exteriorly by the truths
of Scriptureit says :
'
Telling me of Thy unnumbered graces.'
7.
That is, they speak of the wonders of Thy grace
and mercy in the Incarnation, and in the truths of the
faith which they show forth and are ever telling more
distinctly ;
for the more they say, the more do they
reveal Thy graces.
'
And all wound me more and more.'
8. The more the angels inspire me, the more men
teach me, the more do I love Thee
;
and thus all wound
me more and more with love.
'
And something 'eaves me dying,
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.'
9.
It is as if it said :
'
But beside the wound which
the creatures inflict when they tell me of Thy unnumbered
graces, there is yet something which remains to be told,
one thing
unknown to be uttered, a most clear trace of
[STAN. Vir.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
6r
the footsteps of God revealed to the soul, which it should
follow, a most profound knowledge of God, which is
ineffable, and therefore spoken of as
'
I know not what.'
If that which I comprehend inflicts the wound
and
festering sore of love, that which I cannot comprehend
but yet feel profoundly, kills me.
10. This happens occasionally to souls advanced,
whom God favours in what they hear, or see, or under-
standand sometimes without these or other means
with a certain profound knowledge, in which they feel

or apprehend the greatness and majesty of God. In
this state they think so highly of God as to see clearly
that they know Him not, and in their perception of His
greatness they recognise that not to comprehend Him
is the highest comprehension. And thus, one of the
greatest favours of God, bestowed transiently on the
soul in this life, is to enable it to see so distinctly, and to
feel so profoundly, that it clearly understands it cannot
comprehend Him at all. These souls are herein, in some
degree, like the saints in heaven, where they who know
Him most perfectly perceive most clearly that He is
infinitely incomprehensible, for those who have the less
clear vision, do not perceive so distinctly as the others,
how greatly He transcends their vision. This is clear
to none who have not had experience of it. But the
experienced soul, comprehending that there is something
62
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. VIII.]
further of which it is profoundly sensible, calls it,
'
I
know not what.' As that cannot be understood, so
neither can it be described, though it be felt, as I have
said. Hence the soul says that the creatures speak
indistinctly, because they cannot distinctly utter that
which they would say : it is the speech of infants, who
cannot explain distinctly or speak intelligibly that which
they would convey to others.
II. The other creatures, also, are in some measure a
revelation to the soul in this way, but not of an order so
high, whenever it is the good pleasure of God to manifest
to it their spiritual sense and significance
;
they are
seemingly on the point of making us understand the
perfections of God, and cannot compass it
;
it is as if
one were about to explain a matter and the explanation
is not given
;
and thus they stammer
'
I know not what.'
The soul continues to complain, and addresses its own
life, saying, in the stanza that follows :
STANZA VIII
But how thou perseverest, life !
Not living where thou livest
;
Which thou receivest
From thy conceptions of
the Beloved.
The soul, perceiving itself to be dying of love, as it
has just said, and yet not dying so as to have the free
[STAN. VIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
63
enjoyment of its love, complains of the continuance of its
bodily life, by which the spiritual life is delayed. Here
the soul addresses itself to the life it is living upon earth,
magnifying the sorrows of it. The meaning of the stanza
therefore is as follows :
'
O life of my soul, how canst
thou persevere in this life of the flesh, seeing that it
is thy death and the privation of the true spiritual life in
God, in Whom thou livest in substance, love, and desire,
more truly than in the body ? And if this were not
reason enough to depart, and free thyself from the body
of this death, so as to live and enjoy the life of God,
how canst thou still remain in a body so frail ? Besides,
these wounds of love made by the Beloved in the revela-
tion of His majesty are by themselves alone sufficient
to put an end to thy life, for they are very deep
;
and
thus all thy feelings towards Him, and all thou knowest of
Him, are so many touches and wounds of love that kill,
'
But how thou perseverest, O life !
Not living where thou livest.'
2. We must keep in mind, for the better understanding
of this, that the soul lives there where it loves, rather
than in the body which it animates. The soul does not
live by the body, but, on the contrary, gives it life,
and lives by love in that which it loves. For beside this
life of love which it lives in God Who loves it, the soul
64
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. VIII.]
has its radical and natural life in God, like all created
things, according to the saying of St. Paul :
'
In Him
we live, and move, and are
;
'
*
that is, our life, motion,
and being is in God. St. John
also says that all that
was made was life in God :
'
That which was made, in
Him was life.'
f
3.
When the soul sees that its natural life is in God
through the being He has given it, and its spiritual life
also because of the love it bears Him, it breaks forth
into lamentations, complaining that so frail a life in a
mortal body should have the power to hinder it from
the fruition of the true, real, and delicious life, which it
lives in God by nature and by love. Earnestly, therefore,
does the soul insist upon this : it tells us that it suffers
between two contradictionsits natural life in the body,
and its spiritual life in God
;
contrary the one to the
other, because of their mutual repugnance. The soul
living this double life is of necessity in great pain
;
for
the painful life hinders the delicious, so that the natural
life is as death, seeing that it deprives the soul of its
spiritual life, wherein is its whole being and life by nature.
*
Acts xvii. 28.
f
St. John i. 3. The Saint adopts an old punctuation, different from
the usual one. He reads thus :
'
Omnia per Ipsum facta sunt, et sine
Ipso factum est nihil : Quod factum est, in Ipso vita erat (' AH things
were made by Him, and without Him nothing was made : What was
made in Him was life
').
[STAN. VIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
65
and all its operations and feelings by love. The soul,
therefore, to depict more vividly the hardship of this
fragile life, says :
'
which thou receivest,'
4.
That is to say :
'
Besides, how canst thou continue
in the body, seeing that the touches of lovethese are
the arrows^\dth which the Beloved pierces thy heart,
are alone sufficient to deprive thee of life ?
'
These touches
of love make the soul and the heart so fruitful of the
knowledge and love of God, that they may well be called
conceptions of God, as in the words that follow :
'
From thy conceptions of the Beloved.'
5.
That is, of the majesty, beauty, wisdom, grace,
and power, which thou knowest to be His.
NOTE
As the hart wounded with a poisoned arrow cannot be
easy and at rest, but seeks relief on all sides, plunging
into the waters here and again there, whilst the poison
spreads notwithstanding all attempts at relief, till it
reaches the heart, and occasions death ;
so the soul,
pierced by the arrow of love, never ceases from seeking
to alleviate its pains. Not only does it not succeed, but
5
66 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. IX.]
its pains increase, let it think, and say, and do what it
may ;
and knowing this, and that there is no other
remedy but the resignation of itself into the hands of
Him Who wounded it, that He may relieve it, and effec-
tually slay it through the violence of its love
;
it turns
towards the Bridegroom, Who is the cause of all, and
says :
STANZA IX
Why, after woundinq
This heart, hast Thou not healed it ?
And why, after stealing it.
Hast Thou thus abandoned it.
Here the soul returns to the Beloved, still complaining
of its pain ;
for that impatient love which the soul now
exhibits admits of no rest or cessation from pain
;
so it
sets forth its griefs in all manner of ways until it finds
relief. The soul seeing itself wounded and lonely, and
as no one can heal it but the Beloved Who has wounded
it, asks why He, having wounded its heart with that love
which the knowledge of Him brings, does not heal it in
the vision of His presence
;
and why He thus abandons
the heart which He has stolen through the love which
inflames it, after having deprived the soul of all power
over it. The soul has now no power over its heartfor
he who loves has nonebecause it is surrendered to the
[STAN. IX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
67
Beloved, and yet He has not taken it to Himself in the
pure and perfect transformation of love in glory.
'
Why, after wounding this heart,
hast Thou not healed it ?
'
2. The enamoured soul is complaining not because it
is wounded, for the deeper the wound the greater the joy,
but because, being wounded, it is not healed by being
wounded unto death. The wounds of love are so
deliciously sweet, that if they do not kill, they cannot
satisfy the soul. They are so sweet that it desires to die
of them, and hence it is that it says,
'
Why, after
wounding this heart, hast Thou not healed it ?
'
That is,
'
Why hast Thou struck it so sharply as to wound it so
deeply, and yet not healed it by killing it utterly with
love ? As Thou art the cause of its pain in the affliction
of love, be Thou also the cause of its health by a death
from love
;
so the heart, wounded by the pain of Thy
absence, shall be healed in the delight and glory of Thy
sweet presence.' Therefore it goes on :
'
And why, after stealing it,
hast Thou thus abandoned it ?
'
3.
Stealing is nothing else but the act of a robber in
dispossessing the owner of his goods, and possessing them
himself. Here the soul complains to the Beloved that He
has robbed it of its heart lovingly, and taken it out of its
68 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. IX.]
power and possession, and then abandoned it, without
taking it into His own power and possession as the thief
does with the goods he steals, carrying them away with
him. He who is in love is said to have lost his heart, or
to have it stolen by the object of his love
;
because it is
no longer in his own. possession, but in the power of the
object of his love, and so his heart is not his own, but the
property of the person he loves.
4.
This consideration udll enable the soul to determine
whether it loves God simply or not. If it loves Him it
will have no heart for itself, nor for its own pleasure or
profit, but for the honour, glory, and pleasure of God
;
because the more the heart is occupied with self, the less
is it occupied \\dth God. Whether God has really stolen
the heart, the soul may ascertain by either of these two
signs : Is it anxiously seeking after God ? and has it no
pleasure in anything but in Him, as the soul here says ?
The reason of this is that the heart cannot rest in peace
without the possession of something ; and when its
affections are once placed, it has neither the possession
of itself nor of anything else
;
neither does it perfectly
possess what it loves. In this state its weariness is in pro-
portion to its loss, until it shall enter into possession and be
satisfied
;
for until then the soul is as an empty vessel
waiting to be filled, as a hungry man eager for food, as a sick
man sighing for health, and as a man suspended in the air
69
without support to his feet. Such is the state of the loving
heart, and the soul through experience of it cries out, 'Why
hast Thou thus abandoned it ?
'
that is, empty, hungry,
lonely, wounded, in the pangs of love, suspended in air.
'
'
5.
'
Why dost Thou not carry away the heart which
Thy love has stolen, to fill it, to heal it, and to satiate it
by giving it perfect rest in Thyself ?
'
6. The loving soul, for the sake of greater conformity
with the Beloved, cannot cease to desire the recompense
and reward of its love for the sake of which it serves the
Beloved, otherwise it could not be true love, for the
recompense of love is nothing else, and the soul seeks
nothing else, but greater love, until it reaches the perfec-
tion of love
;
for the sole reward of love is love, as we learn
from the prophet
Job,
who, speaking of his own distress,
which is that of the soul now referred to, says :
*
As a ser-
vant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the
end of his work
;
so I also have had empty months, and
have numbered to myself wearisome nights. If I sleep, I
shall say. When shall I arise ? and again, I shall look for the
evening, and shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.'
*
7.
Thus, then, the soul on fire with the love of God
longs for the perfection and consummation of its love,
*
Job
vii. 24.
70
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. IX.]
that it may be completely refreshed. As the servant
wearied by the heat of the day longs for the cooling
shade, and as the hirehng looks for the end of his work,
so the soul for the end of its own. Observe,
Job
does
not say that the hireling looks for the end of his labour,
but only for the end of his work. He teaches us that the
soul which loves looks not for the end of its labour, but
for the end of its work
;
because its work is to love, and
it is the end of this work, which is love, that it hopes for,
namely, the perfect love of God. Until it attains to this,
the words of
Job
will be always true of itîts months
will be empty, and its nights wearisome and tedious. It
is clear, then, that the soul which loves God seeks and
looks for no other reward of its services than to love God
perfectly.
NOTE
The soul, having reached this degree of love, resembles a
sick man exceedingly wearied, whose appetite is gone, and
to whom his food is loathsome, and all things annoyance
and trouble. Amidst all things that present themselves
to his thoughts, or feelings, or sight, his only wish and
desire is health
;
and everything that does not contribute
thereto is weariness and oppressive. The soul, therefore,
in pain because of its love of God, has three peculiarities.
Under all circumstances, and in all affairs, the thought
7
1
of its healththat is, the Belovedis ever present to it
;
and though it is obliged to attend to them because it
cannot help it, its heart is ever with Him. The second
peculiarity, namely, a loss of pleasure in everything,
arises from the first. The third also, a consequence of
the second, is that all things become wearisome, and all
affairs full of vexation and annoyance.
2. The reason is that the palate of the will having
touched and tasted of the food of the love of God, the
will instantly, under all circumstances, regardless of every
other consideration, seeks the fruition of the Beloved. It
is with the soul now as it was with Mary Magdalene,
when in her burning love she sought Him in the garden.
She, thinking Him to be the gardener, spoke to Him
without further reflection, saying :
'
If thou hast taken
Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will
take Him away.'
*
The soul is under the influence of a
like anxiety to find Him in all things, and not finding
Him immediately, as it desiresbut rather the very
reversenot only has no pleasure in them, but is even
tormented by them, and sometimes exceedingly so : for
such souls suffer greatly in their intercourse with men
and in the transactions of the world, because these things
hinder rather than help them in their search.
3.
The bride in the Canticle shows us that she had
*
St. John XX. 15.
72
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. X.]
these three pecuUarities when seeking the Bridegroom.
'
I sought Him and found Him not : the keepers that go
about the city found me, they struck me and wounded
me : the keepers of the walls took away my cloak.'
*
The keepers that go about the city are the affairs of this
world, which, when they
'
find
'
a soul seeking after God,
inflict upon it much pain, and grief, and loathing
;
for
the soul not only does not find in them what it seeks, but
rather a hindrance. They who keep the wall of con-
templation, that the soul may not enter
-that is, evil

spirits and worldly affairstake away the cloak of peace
and the quiet of loving contemplation. All this inflicts
infinite vexation on the soul enamoured of God ; and
while it remains on earth without the vision of God, there
is no relief, great or small, from these afflictions, and
the soul therefore continues to complain to the Beloved,
saying :
STANZA X
Quench Thou my troubles,
For no one else can soothe them
;
And let mine eyes behold Thee
For Thou art their light,
And I will keep them for Thee alone.
Here the soul continues to beseech the Beloved to put
an end to its anxieties and distressnone other than He
*
Cant. V.
6, 7.
[STAN. X.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
73
can do soand that in such a way that its eyes may
behold Him
;
for He alone is the light by which they see,
and there is none other but He on whom it will look.
'
Quench Thou my troubles.'
2. The desire of love has this property, that every-
thing said or done which does not become that which the
will loves, wearies and annoys it, and makes it peevish
when it sees itself disappointed in its desires. This and
its weary longing after the vision of God is here called
'
troubles.' These troubles nothing can remove except
the possession of the Beloved
;
hence the soul prays
Him to quench them with His presence, to cool their
feverishness, as the cooling water him who is wearied by
the heat. The soul makes use of the expression
'
quench/
to denote its sufferings from the fire of love.
'
For no one else can soothe them.'
3.
The soul, in order to move and persuade the
Beloved to grant its petition, says,
'
As none other but
Thou can satisfy my needs, do Thou quench my troubles.'
Remember here that God is then close at hand, to com-
fort the soul and to satisfy its wants, when it has and
seeks no satisfaction or comfort out of Him. The soul
that finds no pleasure out of God cannot be long un-
visiled by the Beloved.
'
And let mine eyes behold Thee,'
74
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. X.]
4.
Let me see Thee face to face with the eyes of the
soul,
'
For Thou art their hght.'
5.
God is the supernatural light of the soul, without
which it abides in darkness. And now, in the excess of
its affection, it calls Him the light of its eyes, as an
earthly lover, to express his affection, calls the object of
his love the light of his eyes. The soul says in effect in
the foregoing terms,
'
Since my eyes have no other light,
either of nature or of love, but Thee, let them behold
Thee, Who in every way art their light.' David was
regretting this light when he said in his trouble,
*
The
light of mine eyes, and the same is not with me
;
'
*
and
Tobias, when he said,
'
What manner of joy shall be to
me who sit in darkness, and see not the light of heaven ?
'f
He was longing for the clear vision of God ;
for the
light of heaven is the Son of God
;
as St. John saith
in the Apocalypse :
'
And the city needeth not sun, nor
moon to shine in it
;
for the glory of God hath illuminated
it, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof.'
J
'
And I will keep them for Thee alone.'
6. The soul seeks to constrain the Bridegroom to let
it see the light of its eyes, not only because it would be
in darkness \\ithout it, but also because it wall not look
*
Ps. xxxvii. II.
t
Tob, v. 12.
I
Apoc. xxi.
23.
[STAN. X.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
75
upon anything but on Him. For as that soul is justly
deprived of this divine light if it fixes the eyes of the will
on any other light, proceeding from anything that is not
God, for then its vision is confined to that object
;
so
also the soul, by a certain fitness, deserves the divine
light, if it shuts its eyes against all objects whatever,
to open them only for the vision of God.
NOTE
But the loving Bridegroom of souls cannot bear to see
them suffer long in the isolation of which I am speaking,
for, as He saith by the mouth of Zacharias,
'
He that
shall touch you, toucheth the apple of Mine eye
;
' *
especially when their sufferings, as those of this soul,
proceed from their love for Him. Therefore doth He
speak through Isaias,
'
It shall be before they call, I will
hear ; as they are yet speaking, I will hear.'
f
And
the wise man saith that the soul that seeketh Him as
treasure shall find Him.
J
God grants a certain spiritual
presence of Himself to the fervent prayers of the loving
soul which seeks Him more earnestly than treasure,
seeing that it has abandoned all things, and even itself,
for His sake.
2. In that presence He shows certain profound
*
Zach. ii. 8.
f
Is. Ixv.
24.
I
Prov. ii.
4, 5.
76
[STAN. XI.]
glimpses of His divinity and beauty, whereby He still
increases the soul's anxious desire to behold Him. For
as men throw water on the coals of the forge to cause
intenser heat, so our Lord in His dealings with certain
souls, in the intermission of their love, makes some
revelations of His majesty, to quicken their fervour, and
to prepare them more and more for those graces which
He will give them afterwards. Thus the soul, in that
obscure presence of God, beholding and feeling the
supreme good and beauty hidden there, is dying in desire
of the vision, saying in the stanza that follows :
STANZA XI
Reveal Thy presence,
And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.
Behold, the malady
Of
love is incurable
Except in Thy presence and before Thy face.
The soul, anxious to be possessed by God, Who is so
great. Whose love has wounded and stolen its heart,
and unable to suffer more, beseeches Him directly, in
this stanza, to reveal His beautythat is, the divine
essenceand to slay it in that vision, separating it from
the body, in which it can neither see nor possess Him as
it desires. And further, setting before Him the distress
and sorrow of heart, in which it continues, suffering it
[STAN. XI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
77
because of its love, and unable to find any other remedy
than the glorious vision of the divine essence, cries out :
'
Reveal Thy presence.'
2. To understand this clearly we must remember
that there are three ways in which God is present in
the soul. The first is His presence in essence, not in holy
souls only, but in wretched and sinful souls as well, and
also in all created things
;
for it is by this presence that
He gives life and being, and were it once withdrawni all
things would return to nothing.* This presence never
fails in the soul.
3.
The second is His presence by grace, whereby He
dwells in the soul, pleased and satisfied with it. This
presence is not in all souls
;
for those who fall into mortal
sin lose it, and no soul can know in a natural way whether
it has it or not. The third is His presence by spiritual
affection. God is wont to show His presence in many
devout souls in divers ways, in refreshment, joy, and
gladness
;
yet this, like the others, is all secret, for He
does not show Himself as He is, because the condition
of our mortal life does not admit of it. Thus this prayer
of the soul may be understood of any one of them.
*
4.
Inasmuch as it is certain that God is ever present
*
See 'Ascent of Mount Carmel,' bk. ii. ch. v.
3.
78
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XI.]
in the soul, at least in the first way, the soul does not
say,
'
Be Thou present ' ;
but,
'
Reveal and manifest Thy
hidden presence, whether natural, spiritual, or affective,
in such a way that I may behold Thee in Thy divine
essence and beauty.' The soul prays Him that as He by
His essential presence gives it its natural being, and
perfects it by His presence of grace, so also He would
glorify it by the manifestation of His glory. But as
the soul is now loving God with fervent affections, the
presence, for the revelation of which it prays the Beloved
to manifest, is to be understood chiefly of the affective
presence of the Beloved. Such is the nature of this
presence that the soul felt there was an infinite being
hidden there, out of which God communicated to it
certain obscure visions of His owm divine beauty. Such
was the effect of these visions that the soul longed and
fainted away with the desire of that which is hidden in
that presence.
5.
This is in harmony with the experience of David,
when he said :
'
My soul longeth and fainteth for the
courts of our Lord.'* The soul now faints with desire
of being absorbed in the Sovereign Good which it feels
to be present and hidden
;
for though it be hidden, the
soul is most profoundly conscious of the good and delight
which are there. The soul is therefore attracted to this
*
Ps. Ixxxiii.
3.
79
good with more violence than matter is to its centre,
and is unable to contain itself, by reason of the force
of this attraction, from saying :
*
6. Moses, on Mount Sinai in the presence of God,
saw such glimpses of the majesty and beauty of His
hidden Divinity, that, unable to endure it, he prayed
twice for the vision of His glory, saying :
*
Whereas Thou
hast said : I know thee by name, and thou hast found
grace in My sight. If, therefore, I have found grace in
Thy sight, shew me Thy face, that I may know Thee
and may find grace before Thine eyes
;
'*
that is, the grace
which he longed forto attain to the perfect love of the
glory of God. The answer of our Lord was :
'
Thou
canst not see My face, for man shall not see Me and
live.'t It is as if God had said :
'
Moses, thy prayer is
difficult to grant
;
the beauty of My face, and the joy
in seeing Me is so great, as to be more than thy soul
can bear in a mortal body that is so weak.' The soul,
accordingly, conscious of this truth, either because of
the answer made to Moses or also because of that which
I spoke of before, J namely, the feeling that there is
something still in the presence of God here which it could
not see in its beauty in the life it is now living, because,
*
Exod. xxxiii. 12, 13.
f
lb. 20.
J
Stan. vii.

10.
80 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XI,]
as I said before,* it faints when it sees but a glimpse
of it. Hence it comes that it anticipates the answer
that may be given to it, as it was to Moses, and says :
'
Let the vision and Thy beauty kill me.'
7.
That is,
'
Since the vision of Thee and Thy beauty
is so full of delight that I cannot endure, but must die
in the act of beholding them, let the vision and Thy
beauty kill me.'
8. Two visions are said to be fatal to man, because
he cannot bear them and live. One, that of the basilisk,
at the sight of which men are said to die at once. The
other is the vision of God
;
but there is a great difference
between them. The former kills by poison, the other
with infinite health and bliss. It is, therefore, nothing
strange for the soul to desire to die by beholding the
beauty of God in order to enjoy Him for ever. If the
soul had but one single glimpse of the majesty and
beauty of God, not only would it desire to die once in
order to see Him for ever, as it desires now, but would
most joyfully undergo a thousand most bitter deaths
to see Him even for a moment, and having seen Him
would suffer as many deaths again to see Him for another
moment.
9.
It is necessary to observe for the better explanation
*
Supra,

4.
[STAN. XI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 8l
of this line, that the soul is now speaking conditionally,
when it prays that the vision and beauty may slay it
;
it assumes that the vision must be preceded by death,
for if it were possible before death, the soul would not
pray for death, because the desire of death is a natural
imperfection. The soul, therefore, takes it for granted
that this corruptible life cannot coexist ^vith the in-
corruptible life of God, and says :
*
10. St. Paul teaches this doctrine to the Corinthians
when he says :
'
We would not be spoiled, but over-
clothed, that that which is mortal may be swallowed
up of life.'* That is, 'we would not be divested of the
flesh, but invested with glory.' But reflecting that he
could not live in glory and in a mortal body at the same
time, he says to the Philippians :
'
having a desire to
be dissolved and to be with Christ.
'f
11. Here arises this question, Why did the people
of Israel of old dread and avoid the vision of God, that
they might not die, as it appears they did from the
words of Manue to his wife,
'
We shall die because we
have seen God,
'J
when the soul desires to die of that
vision ? To this question two answers may be given.-
12. In those days men could not see God, though
*
2 Cor. V.
4.
t
Phil. i.
23.
J
Judg. xiii. 22.
82 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XI.]
dying in the state of grace, because Christ had not come.
It was therefore more profitable for them to Hve in
the flesh, increasing in merit, and enjoying their natural
life, than to be in Limbus, incapable of meriting, suffering
in the darkness and in the spiritual absence of God.
They therefore considered it a great grace and blessing
to live long upon earth.
13.
The second answer is founded on considerations
drawn from the love of God. They in those days, not
being so confirmed in love, nor so near to God by love,
were afraid of the vision : but now, under the law of
grace, when, on the death of the body, the soul may
behold God, it is more profitable to live but a short
time, and then to die in order to see Him. And even
if the vision were withheld, the soul that really loves
God will not be afraid to die at the sight of Him
;
for
true love accepts with perfect resignation, and in the same
spirit, and even with joy, whatever comes to it from the
hands of the Beloved, whether prosperity or adversity
^yea, and even chastisements such as He shall be pleased

to send, for, as St. John
saith,
'
perfect charity casteth
out fear.'*
14.
Thus, then, there is no bitterness in death to
the soul that loves, when it brings with it all the sweetness
and delights of love
;
there is no sadness in the remem-
*
I St. John
iv, 18,
8^
brance of it when it opens the door to all joy
;
nor can
it be painful and oppressive, when it is the end of all
unhappiness and sorrow, and the beginning of all good.
Yea, the soul looks upon it as a friend and its bride, and
exults in the recollection of it as the day of espousals
;
it yearns for the day and hour of death more than the
kings of the earth for principalities and Kingdoms.
15.
It was of this kind of death that the wise man
said,
'
O death, thy judgment is good to the needy
man.'* If it be good to the needy man, though it does
not supply his wants, but on the contrary deprives him
even of what he hath, how much more good will it be
to the soul in need of love and which is crying for more,
when it will not only not rob it of the love it hath already,
but will be the occasion of that fulness of love which
it yearns for, and is the supply of all its necessities. It
is not without reason, then, that the soul ventures to
say:
'
16. The soul knows well that in the instant of that
vision it will be itself absorbed and transformed into
that beauty, and be made beautiful like it, enriched,
and abounding in beauty as that beauty itself. This is
why David said,
'
Precious in the sight of the Lord is
-
*
Ecclus. xli.
3.
84
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XI.]
the death of His saints,'* but that could not be if they
did not become partakers of His glory, for there is nothing
precious in the eyes of God except that which He is
Himself, and therefore the soul, when it loves, fears not
death, but rather desires it. But the sinner is always
afraid to die, because he suspects that death will deprive
him of all good, and inflict upon him all evil ; for in
the words of David,
'
the death of the \vicked is very
cvil,'t and therefore, as the wise man saith, the very
thought of it is bitter :
'
O death, how bitter is thy
memory to a man that hath peace in his riches !'|
The
wicked love this life greatly, and the next but little,
and are therefore afraid of death
;
but the soul that
loves God lives more in the next life than in this, because
it lives rather where it loves than where it dwells, and
therefore esteeming but lightly its present bodily life,
cries out :
'
'
Behold, the malady of love is incurable,
except in Thy presence and before Thy face.'
17,
The reason why the malady of love admits of
no other remedy than the presence and countenance of
the Beloved is, that the malady of love differs from
every other sickness, and therefore requires a different
remedy. In other diseases, according to sound
*
Ps. cxv. 15.
t
^b- xxxiii. 22.
X
Ecclus. xli. i.
[STAN. Xr.j OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
85
philosophy, contraries are cured by contraries
; but
love is not cured but by that which is in harmony with
itself. The reason is, that the health of the soul con-
sists in the love of God
;
and so when that love is not
perfect, its health is not perfect, and the soul is therefore
sick, for sickness is nothing else but a failure of health.
Thus, that soul which loves not at all is dead
; but
when it loves a little, how little soever that may be, it
is then alive, though exceedingly weak and sick because
it loves God so little. But the more its love increases,
the greater will be its health, and when its love is perfect,
then, too, its health also is perfect. Love is not perfect
until the lovers become so on an equality as to be mutually
transformed into one another ; then love is wholly
perfect.
18. And because the soul is now conscious of a certain
adumbration of love, which is the malady of which it
here speaks, yearning to be made like to Him of whom
it is a shadow, that is the Bridegroom, the Word, the
Son of God, Who, as St. Paul saith, is the
'
splendour
of His glory, and the figure of His substance
;
'*
and
because it is into this figure it desires to be transformed
by love, cries out,
'
Behold, the malady of love is in-
curable except in Thy presence, and in the light of Thy
countenance.' The love that is imperfect is rightly
*
Heb. i.
3.
86 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XI.]
called a malady, because as a sick man is enfeebled and
cannot work, so the soul that is weak in love is also
enfeebled and cannot practise heroic virtue.
19.
Another explanation of these words is this : he
who feels this malady of lovethat is, a failure of it
has an evidence in himself that he has some love, because

he ascertains what is deficient in him by that which he
possesses. But he who is not conscious of this malady
has evidence therein that he has no love at all, or that
he has already attained to perfect love.
NOTE
The soul now conscious of a vehement longing after
God, like a stone rushing to its centre, and like wax
which has begun to receive the impression of the seal
which it cannot perfectly represent, and knowing, more-
over, that it is like a picture lightly sketched, crying
for the artist to linish his work, and having its faith so
clear as to trace most distinctly certain divine glimpses
of the majesty of God, knows not what else to do but
to turn inward to that faithas involving and veiling
the face and beauty of the Belovedfrom which it
hath received those impressions and pledges of love,
rmd which it thus addresses :
[STAN. XII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
87
STANZA XII
O crystal well
!
that on thy silvered surface
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those desired eyes
Which are outlined in my heart.
The soul vehemently desiring to be united to the Bride-
groom, and seeing that there is no help or succour in
created things, turns towards the faith, as to that which
gives it the most vivid vision of the Beloved, and adopts
it as the means to that end. And, indeed, there is no
other way of attaining to true union, to the spiritual
betrothal of God, according to the words of Osee_:
'
I
will betrothe thee to Me in faith.'* In this fervent
desire it cries out in the words of this stanza, which are
in effect this :
'
O faith of Christ, my Bridegroom ! Oh
that thou wouldest manifest clearly those truths con-
cerning the Beloved, secretly and obscurely infused
for faith is, as theologians say, an obscure habitso

that thy informal and obscure communications may
be in a moment clear
;
Oh that thou wouldest withdraw
thyself formally and completely from these truths
for faith is a veil over the truths of Godand reveal

them perfectly in glory.' Accordingly it says :
'
O crystal well !
'
*
Os. ii. 20,
88 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XII.]
2. Faith is called crystal for two reasons : because
it is of Christ the Bridegroom ;
because it has the property
of crystal, pure in its truths, a limpid well clear of error,
and of natural forms. It is a well because the waters
of all spiritual goodness flow from it into the soul. Christ
our Lord, speaking to the woman of Samaria, calls
faith a well, saying,
'
The water that I will give him
shall become in him a well of water springing up into
life everlasting.'* This water is the -Spirit, which they
who believe shall receive by faith in Him.
'
Now
this He said of the Spirit which they who believed in
Him should receive.'!
'
Oh that on thy silvered surface.'
3.
The articles and definitions of the faith are called
silvered surfaces. In order to understand these words
and those that follow, we must know that faith is com-
pared to silver because of the propositions it teaches
us, the truth and substance it involves being compared
to gold. This very substance which we now believe,
hidden behind the silver veil of faith, we shall clearly be-
hold and enjoy hereafter
;
the gold of faith shall be made
manifest. Hence the Psalmist, speaking of this, saith :
'
If ye sleep amidst the lots, the wings of the dove are
laid over with silver, and the hinder parts of the back
*
S. John iv.
14.
f
lb. vii.
39.
89
in the paleness of gold.'* That means, if we shall keep
the eyes of the understanding from regarding the things
of heaven and of earththis the Psalmist calls sleeping in
the midstwe shall be firm in the faith, here called dove,
the wings of which are the truths laid over with silver,
because in this life the faith puts these truths before us
obscurely beneath a veil. This is the reason why the soul
calls them silvered surface. But when faith shall have been
consummated in the clear vision of God, then the substance
of faith, the silver veil removed, will shine as gold.
4.
As the faith gives and communicates to us God
Himself, but hidden beneath the silver of faith, yet it
reveals Him none the less. So if a man gives us a vessel
made of gold, but covered with silver, he gives us in
reality a vessel of gold, though the gold be covered
over. Thus, when the bride in the Canticle was longing
for the fruition of God, He promised it to her so far as
the state of this life admitted of it, saying :
'
We will
make thee chains of gold inlaid with silver.
'f
He thus
promised to give Himself to her under the veil of faith.
Hence the soul addresses the faith, saying :
'
Oh that on
thy silvered surface
'
the definitions of faith' in which
thou hidest ' the gold of the divine rayswhich are the
desired eyes,instantly adding :
'
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once those desired eyes
!
'
*
Ps. Ixvii. 14.
t
Cant. i. 10.
90
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. Xll.j
5.
By the eyes are understood, as I have said, the
rays and truths of God, which are set before us hidden
and informal in the definitions of the faith. Thus the
words say in substance :
'
Oh that thou wouldest formally
and explicitly reveal to me those hidden truths which
Thou teachest implicitly and obscurely in the definitions
of the faith
;
according to my earnest desire.' Those
truths are called eyes, because of the special presence
of the Beloved, of which the soul is conscious, believing
Him to be perpetually regarding it
;
and so it says :
'
\Miich are outlined in my heart.'
6. The soul here says that these truths are outlined
in the heartthat is, in the understanding and the will.
It is through the understanding that these truths are
infused into the soul by faith. They are said to be
outlined because the knowledge of them is not perfect.
As a sketch is not a perfect picture, so the knowledge
that comes by faith is not a perfect understanding.
The truths, therefore, infused into the soul by faith are
as it were in outline, and when the clear vision shall
be granted, then they will be as a perfect and finished
picture, according to the words of the Apostle :
*
When
that shall come which is perfect, that shall be made
void which is in part.'*
'
That which is perfect ' is the
*
I Cor. xiii. 10.
[STAN. XII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM QI
clear vision, and
'
that wliich is in part
'
is the knowledge
that comes by faith.
7.
Besides this outline which comes by faith, there
is another by love in the soul that loves that is, in the
willin which the face of the Beloved is so deeply and
vividly pictured, when the union of love occurs, that
it may be truly said the Beloved Uves in the loving
soul, and the loving soul in the Beloved. Love produces
such a resemblance by the transformation of those who
love that one may be said to be the other, and both
but one. The reason is, that in the union and trans-
formation of love one gives himself up to the other
as his possession, and each resigns, abandons, and ex-
changes himself for the other, and both become but
one in the transformation wrought by love.
8. This is the meaning of St. Paul when he said,
'
I live, now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.'* In that
He saith,
'
I live, now, not I,' his meaning is, that
though he lived, yet the life he lived was not his own,
because he was transformed in Christ : that his life was
divine rather than human
;
and for that reason, he said
it was not he that lived, but Christ Who lived in him.
We may therefore say, according to this likeness of
transformation, that his life and the life of Christ were
one by the union of love. This will be perfect in heaven
*
Gal. ii. 20.
()2
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XII.]
in the divine life of all those who shall merit the beatific
vision
;
for, transformed in God, they will live the life
of God and not their own, since the life of God will be
theirs. Then they will say in truth,
'
We live, but not
we ourselves, for God liveth in us.'
9.
Now, this may take place in this life, as in the
case of St. Paul, but not perfectly and completely, though
the soul should attain to such a transformation of love
as shall be spiritual marriage, which is the highest state
it can reach in this life
;
because all this is but an outline
of love compared with the perfect image of transforma-
tion in glory. Yet, when this outline of transformation
is attained in this life, it is a grand blessing, because the
Beloved is so greatly pleased therewith. He desires,
therefore, that the bride should have Him thus delineated
in her soul, and saith unto her,
'
Put Me as a seal upon
thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm.'* The heart here
signifies the soul, wherein God in this life dwells as
an impression of the seal of faith, and the arm is the
resolute will, where He is as the impressed token of love.
10. Such is the state of the soul at that time. I speak
but little of it, not willing to leave it altogether untouched,
though no language can describe it.
11. The very substance of soul and body seems to
be dried up by thirst after this living well of God, for
*
Cant. vUi. 6.
93
the thirst resembles that of David when he cried out,
'
As the hart longeth for the fountains of waters, so
my soul longeth for Thee, O God. My soul hath thirsted
after the strong living God
;
when shall I come and
appear before the face of God ?
'*
So oppressive is
this thirst to the soul, that it counts it as nothing to
break through the camp of the Philistines, like the
valiant men of David, to fill its pitcher with
'
water
out of the cisterns of Bethlehem,
'f
which is Christ, The
trials of this world, the rage of the devil, and the pains
of hell are nothing to pass through, in order to plunge
into this fathomless fountain of love.
12. To this we may apply those words in the
Canticle :
'
Love is strong as death, jealousy is hard
as hell.' J: It is incredible how vehement are the longings
and sufferings of the soul when it sees itself on the point
of tasting this good, and at the same time sees it withheld
;
for the nearer the object desired, 'the greater the pangs
of its denial :
'
Before I eat,' saith
Job,
'
I sigh, and as
it were overflowing waters so my roaring
'
and hunger
for food. God is meant here by food
;
for in proportion
to the soul's longing for food, and its knowledge of God,
is the pain it suffers now.
*
Ps. xli. I, 2.
t
I Paral. xi. 18.
I
Cant. viii. 6.
Job iii.
24.
94
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XII.]
NOTE
The source of the grievous sufferings of the soul at this
time is the consciousness of its own emptiness of God
while it is drawing nearer and nearer to Himand also

the thick darkness with the spiritual fire, which dry and
puri'y it, that, its purification ended, it may be united
with God. For when God sends not forth a ray of super-
natural light into the soul, He is to it intolerable darkness
when He is even near to it in spirit, for the supernatural
light by its very brightness obscures the mere natural
light. David referred to this when he said :
'
Cloud
and mist round about Him ... a fire shall go
before Him.'
*
And again :
'
He put darkness His
covert ;
His tabernacle is round about Him, darksome
waters in the clouds of the air. Because of the brightness
in His sight the clouds passed, hail and coals of fire.'
f
The soul that approaches God feels Him to be all this
more and more the further it advances, until He shall
cause it to enter within His divine brightness through
the transformation of love. But the comfort and con-
solations of God are, by His infinite goodness, proportional
to the darkness and emptiness of the soul, as it is written,
'
As the darkness thereof, so also the light thereof.
'{
And because He humbles souls and wearies them, while
Ps. xcvi,
2, 3.
t
lb. xvii, 12,
13.
X
lb. Gxxxviii. iz.
[STAN. XIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
95
He is exalting them and making them glorious, He sends
into the soul, in the midst of its weariness, certain divine
rays from Himself, in such gloriousness and strength
of love as to stir it up from its very depths, and to change
its whole natural condition. Thus the soul, in great
fear and natural awe, addresses the Beloved in the first
words of the following stanza, the remainder of which
is His answer :
,,
STANZA XIH
I am on the wing.
THE BRIDEGROOM
Return, My Dove !
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air
of thy flight and is refreshed.
EXPLANATION
Amid those fervent affections of love, such as the soul
has shown in the preceding stanzas, the Beloved is wont
to visit His bride, tenderly, lovingly, and with great
strength of love
;
for ord'narily the graces and visits of
God are great in proportion to the greatness of those
fervours and longings of love which have gone before.
And, as the soul has so anxiously longed for the divine
96
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIII.]
eyesas in the foregoing stanzathe Beloved reveals to
it some glimpses of His majesty and Godhead, according
to its desires. These divine rays strike the soul so
profoundly and so vividly that it is rapt into an ecstasy
which in the beginning is attended with great suffering
and natural fear. Hence the soul, unable to bear the
ecstasies in a body so frail, cries out,
'
Turn away thine
eyes from me.'
'
'
2. That is, 'Thy divine eyes, for they make me fly
away out of myself to the heights of contemplation, and
my natural force cannot bear it.' This the soul says
because it thinks it has escaped from the burden of the
flesh, which was the object of its desires
;
it therefore
prays the Beloved to turn away His eyes
;
that is, not to
show them in the body where it cannot bear and enjoy
them as it would, but to show them to it in its flight from
the body. The Bridegroom at once denies the request
and hinders the flight, saying,
'
Return, My Dove ! for
the communications I make to thee now are not those of
the state of glory wherein thou desirest to be
;
but
return to Me, for I am He WTiom thou, wounded with
love, art seeking, and I, too, as the hart, wounded with
thy love, begin to show Myself to thee on the heights of
contemplation, and am refreshed and delighted by the
97
love which thy contemplation involves.' The soul then
says to the Bridegroom :
*
Turn them away, my Beloved !
*
3.
The soul, because of its intense longing after the
divine eyezthat is, the Godheadreceives interiorly
from the Beloved such communications and knowledge
of God as compel it to cry out,
'
Turn them away, O my
Beloved !
'
For such is the wretchedness of our mortal
nature, that we cannot beareven when it is offered to
usbut at the cost of our life, that which is the very
life of the soul, and the object of its earnest desires,
namely, the knowledge of the Beloved. Thus the soul is
compelled to say, with regard to the eyes so earnestly,
so anxiously sought for, and in so many wayswhen they
become visible
' Turn them away.'

4.
So great, at times, is the suffering of the soul
during these ecstatic visitationsand there is no other
pain which so wrenches the very bones, and which so
oppresses our natural forcesthat, were it not for the
special interference of God, death would ensue. And, in
truth, such is it to the soul, the subject of these visita-
tions, for it feels as if it were released from the body
and a stranger to the flesh. Such graces cannot be
perfectly received in the body, because the spirit of man
is lifted up to the communion of the Spirit of God, Who
7
gS A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIII.]
visits the soul, and must therefore of necessity be in some
measure a stranger to the body. Hence it is that the
flesh has to suffer, and consequently the soul in it, by
reason of their union in one person. The great agony of
the soul, therefore, in these visitations, and the great fear
that overwhelms it when God deals with it in the super-
natural way,* force it to cry out,
'
Turn them away, O
my Beloved !
'
5.
But it is not to be supposed, however, that the
soul really wishes Him to turn away His eyes
;
for this is
nothing else but the expression of natural awe, as I said
before.t Yea, rather, cost they what they may, the soul
would not willingly miss these visitations and favours of
the Beloved
;
for though nature may suffer, the spirit
flies to this supernatural recollection, in order to enjoy
the spirit of the Beloved, the object of its prayers and
desires. The soul is unwilling to receive these visitations
in the body, when it cannot have the perfect fruition
of them, and only in a slight degree and in pain
;
but it
covets them in the flight of the disembodied spirit when
it can enjoy them freely. Hence it says,
'
Turn them
away, my Beloved
'
that is. Do not visit me in the
flesh.
'
I am on the wing."
* See St. Teresa,
'
Life,' ch. xx.
16, or
'
Las Moradas,' vi. ch. xi.
t

I supra.
99
6. It is as if it said,
'
I am taking my flight out of the
body, that Thou mayest show them when I shall have
left it ; they being the cause of my flight out of the body.'
For the better understanding of the nature of this flight
we should consider that which I said just now.* In this
visitation of the divine Spirit the spirit of the soul is with
great violence borne upwards into communion with the
divine, the body is abandoned, all its acts and senses are
suspended, because they are absorbed in God. Thus the
Apostle, St. Paul, speaking of his own ecstasy, saith,
'
Whether in the body or out of the body, I cannot tell.'
f
But we are not to suppose that the soul abandons the
body, and that the natural life is destroyed, but only that
its actions have then ceased.
7.
This is the reason why the body remains insensible
in raptures and ecstasies, and unconscious of the most
painful inflictions. These are not hke the swoons and
faintings of the natural life, which cease when pain begins.
They who have not arrived at perfection are liable to
these visitations, for they happen to those who are
walking in the way of proficients. They who are already
perfect receive these visitations in peace and in the
sweetness of love : ecstasies cease, for they were only
graces to prepare them for this greater grace,
8. This is a fitting place for discussing the difference
*
4
supra.
t
2 Cor. xii,
3
100 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIII.]
between raptures, ecstasies, other elevations and subtile
flights of the spirit, to which spiritual persons are liable
;
but, as I intend to do nothing more than explain briefly
this canticle, as I undertook in the prologue, I leave the
subject for those who are better qualified than I am.
I do this the more readily, because our mother, the
blessed Teresa of Jesus, has written admirably on this
matter,* whose writings I hope in God to see published
soon. The flight of the soul in this place, then, is to be
understood of ecstasy, and elevation of spirit in God.
The Beloved immediately says :
'
Return, My Dove.'
g.
The soul was joyfully quitting the body in its
spiritual flight, thinking that its natural hfe was over,
and that it was about to enter into the everlasting fruition
of the Bridegroom, and remain with Him without a veil
between them. He, however, restrains it in its flight,
saying
:
Return, My Dove.'
10. It is as if He said,
'
O My Dove, in thy high and
rapid flight of contemplation, in the love wherewith thou
art inflamed, in the simplicity of thy regard
'
these are
three
characteristics of the dove
' return from that flight

in which thou aimest at the true fruition of Myselfthe
*
See 'Relation' viii.
[STAN. XIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM lOI
time is not yet come for knowledge so highreturn, and
submit thyself to that lower degree of it which I com-
municate in this thy rapture.'
'
The wounded hart.'
11. The Bridegroom hkens Himself to a hart, for by
the hart here He means Himself. The hart by nature
climbs up to high places, and when wounded hastens to
seek relief in the coohng waters. If he hears his consort
moan and sees that she is wounded, he runs to her at
once, comforts, and caresses her. So the Bridegroom
now ;
for, seeing the bride wounded with His love. He,
too, hearing her moaning, is wounded Himself with her
love ;
for with lovers the wound of one is the wound of
the other, and they have the same feehngs in common.
The Bridegroom, therefore, saith in effect :
'
Return, my
bride, to Me
;
for as thou art wounded with the love of
Me, I too, like the hart, am wounded by love for thee,
I am like the hart, looming on the top of the hill.' There-
fore He says :
'
Looms on the hill.'
12. That is, 'on the heights of contemplation, to
which thou hast ascended in thy flight.' Contemplation
is a lofty eminence where God, in this life, begins to
communicate Himself to the soul, and to show Himself,
but not distinctly. Hence it is said,
'
Looms on the
102 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIII.]
hill,' because He does not appear clearly. However
profound the knowledge of Himself which God may grant
to the soul in this life, it is, after all, but an indistinct
vision. We now come to the third property of the hart,
the subject of the line that follows :
'
In the air of thy flight, and is refreshed.'
13.
The flight is contemplation in the ecstasy spoken
of before,* and the air is the spirit of love produced in
the soul by this flight of contemplation, and this love
produced by the flight is here with great propriety called
'
air,' for the Holy Ghost also is likened to air in the
Sacred Writings, because He is the breath of the Father
and the Son. And so as He is there the air of the flight
that is, that He proceeds by the will from the contempla-

tion and wisdom of the Father and the Son, and is
breathedso here the love of the soul is called air by the
Bridegroom, because it proceeds from the contemplation
of God and the knowledge of Him which at this time is
possessed by the soul.
14.
We must observe here that the Bridegroom
does not say that He cometh at the flight, but at the air
of the flight, because properly speaking God does not
communicate Himself to the soul because of that flight,
which is, as I have said, the knowledge it has of God, but
*
I.
[STAN. XIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM IO3
because of the love which is the fruit of that knowledge.
For as love is the union of the Father and the Son, so is
it also of God and the soul.
15.
Hence it is that notwithstanding the most pro-
found knowledge of God, and contemplation itself,
together with the knowledge of all mysteries, the soul
without love is nothing worth, and can do nothing, as the
Apostle saith, towards its union with God.* In another
place he saith,
'
Have charity, which is the bond of
perfection.'! This charity then and love of the soul
make the Bridegroom run to drink of the fountain of the
Bride's love, as the cooling waters attract the thirsty and
the wounded hart, to be refreshed therein.
'
And is refreshed.'
16. As the air cools and refreshes him who is wearied
with the heat, so the air of love refreshes and comforts
him who burns with the fire of love. The fire of love
hath this property, the air which cools and refreshes
it is an increase of the fire itself. To him who loves,
love is a flame that bums with the desire of burning more
and more, like the flame of material fire. The consum-
mation of this desire of burning more and more, with
the love of the bride, which is the air of her flight, is
here called refreshment. The Bridegroom says in sub-
*
J
Cor. xjii. 2.
t
Col. iii. 14.
104
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIII.]
stance,
'
I burn more and more because of the ardour
of thy flight, for love kindles love.'
17. God does not establish His grace and love in the
soul but in proportion to the good will of that soul's
love. He, therefore, that truly loves God must strive
that his love fail not
;
for so, if we may thus speak,
will he move God to show him greater love, and to take
greater dehght in his soul. In order to attain to such
a degree of love, he must practise those things of which
the Apostle speaks, saying :
'
Charity is patient, is
benign : charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely
;
is not puffed up, is not ambitious, seeketh not her own,
is not provoked to anger, thinketh not evil, rejoiceth
not upon iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth
;
beareth
all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth
all things.'
*
NOTE
When the dovethat is the soulwas flying on the
gale of love over the waters of the deluge of the weariness
and longing of its love,
'
not finding where her foot might
rest,'
f
the compassionate father Noe, in this last flight,
put forth the hand of his mercy, caught her, and brought
her into the ark of his charity and love. That took
place when the Bridegroom, as in the stanza now ex-
*
I Cor. xiii.
4-7.
f
Gen. viii.
9.
[STAN. XIV, XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I05
plained, said,
'
Return, My Dove.' In the shelter within
the ark, the soul, finding all it desired, and more than
it can ever express, begins to sing the praises of the
Beloved, celebrating the magnificence which it feels and
enjoys in that union, saying :
STANZAS XIV, XV
THE BRIDE
My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys,
The strange islands.
The roaring torrents,
The whisper
of
the amorous gales
;
The tranquil night
At the approaches
of
the dawn.
The silent music,
The murmuring solitude,
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.
Before I begin to explain these stanzas, I must observe,
in order that they and those which follow may be better
understood, that this spiritual flight signifies a certain
high estate and union of love, whereunto, after many
spiritual exercises, God is wont to elevate the soul : it is
called the spiritual betrothal of the Word, the Son of
God. In the beginning, when this occurs the first time,
God reveals to it great things of Himself, makes it
beautiful in majesty and grandeur, adorns it with graces
and gifts, and endows it with honour, and with the
I06
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV
]
knowledge of Himself, as a bride is adorned on the day
of her betrothal. On this happy day the soul not only
ceases from its anxieties and loving complaints, but is,
moreover, adorned with all grace, entering into a state
of peace and delight, and of the sweetness of love, as it
appears from these stanzas, in which it does nothing
else but recount and praise the magnificence of the
Beloved, which it recognises in Him, and enjoys in the
union of the betrothal.
2. In the stanzas that follow, the soul speaks no more
of its anxieties and sufferings, as before, but of the sweet
and peaceful intercourse of love with the Beloved
;
for
now all its troubles are over. These two stanzas, which
I am about to explain, contain all that God is wont at
this time to bestow upon the soul ; but we are not to
suppose that all souls, thus far advanced, receive all that
is here described, either in the same way or in the same
degree of knowledge and of consciousness. Some souls
receive more, others less
;
some in one way, some in
another ;
and yet all may be in the state of spiritual
betrothal. But in this stanza the highest possible is
spoken of, because that embraces all.
EXPLANATION
3.
As in the ark of Noe there were many chambers for
the different kinds of animals, as the Sacred Writings tell
[STAN. XIV, XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I07
US, and
'
all food that may be eaten,'
*
so the soul, in its
flight to the divine ark of the bosom of God, sees therein
not only the many mansions of which our Lord speaks,
but also all the food, that is, all the magnificence in which
the soul may rejoice, and which are here referred to by
the common terms of these stanzas. These are substan-
tially as follows :
4.
In this divine union the soul has a vision and
foretaste of abundant and inestimable riches, and finds
there all the repose and refreshment it desired
;
it attains
to the secrets of God, and to a strange knowledge of Him,
which is the food of those who know Him most
;
it is
conscious of the awful power of God beyond all other
power and might, tastes of the wonderful sweetness
and delight of the Spirit, finds its true rest and divine
light, drinks deeply of the wisdom of God, which
shines forth in the harmony of the creatures and works
of God ; it feels itself filled with all good, emptied,
and delivered from all evil, and, above all, rejoices
consciously in the inestimable banquet of love which
confirms it in love. This is the substance of these two
stanzas.
5.
The bride here says that her Beloved in Himself
and to her is all the objects she enumerates
;
for in the
ecstatic communications of God the soul feels and
*
Gen. vj. 21.
I08 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV.]
understands the truth of the saying of St. Francis :
'
God
is mine and all things are mine.' And because God is
all, and the soul, and the good of all, the communication
in this ecstasy is explained by the consideration that
the goodness of the creatures referred to in these stanzas
is a reflection of His goodness, as will appear from
every line thereof. All that is here set forth is in God
eminently in an infinite way, or rather, every one of
these grandeurs is God, and all of them together are
God. Inasmuch as the soul is one with God, it feels
all things to be God according to the words of St. John:
*
What was made, in Him was life.'
*
6. But we are not to understand this consciousness
of the soul as if it saw the creatures in jGod as we see
material objects in the light, but that it feels all things
to be God in this fruition of Him
;
neither are we to
imagine that the soul sees God essentially and clearly
because it has so deep a sense of Him
;
for this is only
a strong and abundant
communication from Him, a
glirtimering light of what He is in Himself, by which
the soul discerns this goodness of ah things, as I proceed
to explain.
'
My
Beloved is the mountains.'
7.
Mountains are high, fertile, extensive, beautiful,
*
St. John
i.
3,
4.
See Stanza vii'i.
p. 64.
[STAN. XIV, XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM lOQ
lovely, flowery, and odorous. These mountains my
Beloved is to me.
'
The solitary wooded valleys.'
8. Solitaiy valleys are tranquil, pleasant, cooling,
shady, abounding in sweet waters, and by the variety
of trees growing in them, and by the melody of the
birds that frequent them, enhven and delight the senses
;
their sohtude and silence procure us a refreshing rest.
These valleys my Beloved is to me.
'
The strange islands.'
9.
Strange islands are girt by the sea
;
they are also,
because of the sea, distant and unknown to the com-
merce of men. They produce things very different from
those with wh'ch we are conversant, in strange ways,
and with qualities hitherto unknown, so as to surprise
those who behold them, and fill them with wonder.
Thus, then, by reason of the great and marvellous
wonders, and the strange things that come to our know-
ledge, far beyond the common notions of men, which
the soul beholds in God, it calls Him the strange islands.
We say of a man that he is strange for one of two reasons :
either because he withdraws himself from the society
of his fellows, or because he is singular or distinguished
in his life and conduct. For these two reasons together
God is called strange by the soul. He is not only all
no A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN, XIV, XV.]
that is strange in undiscovered islands, but His ways,
judgments, and works are also strange, new, and mar-
vellous to men.
10. It is nothing wonderful that God should be
strange to men who have never seen Him, seeing that
He is also strange to the holy angels and the souls who
see Him ;
for they neither can nor shall ever see Him
perfectly. Yea, even to the day of the last judgment
they will see in Him so much that is new in His deep
judgments, in His acts of mercy and justice, as to excite
their wonder more and more. Thus God is the strange
islands not to men only, but to the angels also
;
only to
Himself is He neither strange nor new.
'
The roaring torrents.'
11. Torrents have three properties, i. They over-
flow all that is in their course. 2. They fill all hollows.
3.
They overpower all other sounds by their own. And
hence the soul, feeling most sweetly that these three
properties belong to God, says,
'
My Beloved is the
roaring torrents.'
12. As to the first property of which the soul is
conscious, it feels itself to be so overwhelmed with the
torrent of the Spirit of God, and so violently overpowered
by it, that all the waters in the world seem to it to have
surrounded it, and to have drowned all its former actions
[STAN. XIV, XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM III
and passions. Though all this be violent, yet there is
nothing painful in it, for these rivers are rivers of peace,
as it is written, God, speaking through Isaias, saying,
'
I will decline upon her, as it were, a flood of peace,
and as a torrent overflowing glory.'
*
That is,
'
I will
bring upon the soul, as it were, a river of peace, and
a torrent overflowing with glory.' Thus this divine
overflowing, like roaring torrents, fills the soul with
peace and glory. The second property the soul feels
is that this divine water is now filling the vessels of
its humility and the emptiness of its desires, as it is
written :
'
He hath exalted the humble, and filled the
hungry with good.'
f
The third property of which
the soul is now conscious in the roaring torrents of
the Beloved is a spiritual sound and voice overpowering
all other sounds and voices in the world. The explana-
tion of this will take a little time.
13. This voice, or this murmuring sound of the waters,
is an overflowing so abundant as to fill the soul with
good, and a power so mighty seizing upon it as to seem
not only the sound of many waters, but a most loud
roaring of thunder. But the voice is a spiritual voice,
unattended by material sounds or the pain and torment
of them, but rather with majesty, power, might, delight,
and glory : it is, as it were, a voice, an infinite interior
*
Isa. Ixvi. 12.
f
S. Luke i. 52.
112 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV,
XV.J
sound which endows the soul with power and might.
The Apostles heard in spirit this voice when the Holy
Ghost descended upon them in the sound
'
as of a mighty
wind,'
*
as we read in the Acts of the Apostles. In
order to manifest this spiritual voice, interiorly spoken,
the sound was heard exteriorly, as of a rushing wind,
by all those who were in Jerusalem. This exterior
manifestation reveals what the Apostles interiorly re-
ceived, namely, fulness of power and might.
14. So also when our Lord Jesus prayed to the Father
because of His distress and the rage of His enemies. He
heard an interior voice from heaven, comforting Him in
His Sacred Humanity. The sound, solemn and grave,
was heard exteriorly by the Jews,
some of whom
'
said
that it thundered : others said, An angel hath spoken to
Him.'
f
The voice outwardly heard was the outward
sign and expression of that strength and power which
Christ then inwardly received in His human nature.
We are not to suppose that the soul does not hear in
spirit the spiritual voice because it is also outwardly
heard. The spiritual voice is the effect on the soul
of the audible voice, as material sounds strike the ear,
and impress the meaning of it on the mind. This we
learn from David when he said,
*
He will give to His
voice the voice of strength ;
'
J
this strength is the
*
Acts ii. 2.
t
St. John xii.
29.
J
Ps. Ixvii.
34.
[STAN. XIV, XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM II3
interior voice. He will give to His voicethat is, the
outward voice, audibly heardthe voice of strength
which is felt within. God is an infinite voice, and com-
municating Himself thus to the soul produces the effect
of an infinite voice.
15.
This voice was heard by St. John, saying in the
Apocalypse,
'
I heard a voice from heaven as the voice
of many waters, and as the voice of great thunder.'
And, lest it should be supposed that a voice so strong
was distressing and harsh, he adds immediately,
'
The
voice which I heard was as the voice of harpers harping
on their harps.'
*
Ezechiel says that this sound as of
many waters was
'
as it were the sound of the High
God,'
I
profoundly and sweetly communicated in it.
This voice is infinite, because, as I have said, it is God
Who communicates Himself, speaking in the soul ; but
He adapts Himself to each soul, uttering the voice of
strength according to its capacity, in majesty and joy.
And so the bride sings in the Canticle :
'
Let Thy voice
sound in my ears, for Thy voice is sweet.'
%
'
The whisper of the amorous gales.'
16. Two things are to be considered here
gales and
whisper. The amorous gales are the virtues and graces
of the Beloved, which, because of its union with the
*
Apoc. xiv. 2.
t
Ezech. i. 24.
J
Cant. ji. i
j.
114
A SPIRITUAf. CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV.]
Bridegroom, play around the soul, and, most lovingly
sent forth, touch it in their own substance. The whisper
of the gales is a most sublime and sweet knowledge of
God and of His attributes, which overflows into the
understanding from the contact of the attributes of God
with the substance of the soul. This is the highest
delight of which the soul is capable in this life.
17.
That we may understand this the better, we must
keep in mind that as in a gale two things are observ-
ablethe touch of it, and the whisper or soundso there
are two things observable also in the communications
of the Bridegroomthe sense of delight, and the under-
standing of it. As the touch of the air is felt in the
sense of touch, and the whisper of it heard in the ear,
so also the contact of the perfections of the Beloved is
felt and enjoyed in the touch of the soulthat is, in the
substance thereof, through the instrumentality of the
will ; and the knowledge of the attributes of God felt in
the hearing of the soulthat is, in the understanding.
18. The gale is said to blow amorously when it strikes
deliciously, satisfying his desire who is longing for the
refreshing which it ministers
;
for it then revives and
soothes the sense of touch, and while the sense of touch
is thus soothed, that of hearing also rejoices and delights
in the sound and whisper of the gale more than the
touch in the contact of the air, because the sense of
hearing is more spiritual, or, to speak with greater cor-
rectness, is more nearly connected with the spiritual
than is that of touch, and the delight thereof is more
spiritual than is that of the touch. So also, inasmuch
as this touch of God greatly satisfies and comforts the
substance of the soul, sweetly fulfilling its longing to be
received into union ; this union, or touch, is called
amorous gales, because, as I said before, the perfections
of the Beloved are by it communicated to the soul
lovingly and sweetly, and through it the whisper of
knowledge to the understanding. It is called whisper,
because, as the whisper of the air penetrates subtilely
into the organ of hearing, so this most subtile and delicate
knowledge enters with marvellous sweetness and delight
into the inmost substance of the soul, which is the highest
of all delights.
19.
The reason is that substantial knowledge is now
communicated intelligibly, and stripped of all accidents
and images, to the understanding, which philosophers
call passive or passible, because inactive without any
natural efforts of its own during this communication.
This is the highest delight of the soul, because it is in
the understanding, which is the seat of fruition, as theo-
logians teach, and fruition is the vision of God. Some
theologians think, inasmuch as this whisper signifies the
substantial intelligence, that our father Elias had a vision
Il6
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV.]
of God in the delicate whisper of the air, which he heard
on the mount at the mouth of the cave. The Holy
Scripture calls it
'
the whistling of a gentle wind,'* be-
cause knowledge is begotten in the understanding by
the subtile and delicate communication of the Spirit.
The soul calls it here the whisper of the amorous gales,
because it flows into the understanding from the loving
communication of the perfections of the Beloved. This
is why it is called the whisper of the amorous gales.
20. This divine whisper which enters in by the ear
of the soul is not only substantial knowledge, but a
manifestation also of the truths of the Divinity, and a
revelation of the secret mysteries thereof. For in general,
in the Holy Scriptures, every communication of God said
to enter in by the ear is a manifestation of pure truths
to the understanding, or a revelation of the secrets of
God. These are revelations or purely spiritual visions,
and are communicated directly to the soul without the
intervention of the senses, and thus, what God com-
municates through the spiritual ear is most profound
and most certain. When St. Paul would express the
greatness of the revelations made to him, he did not say,
'
I saw or I perceived secret words,' but ' I heard secret
words which it is not granted to man to utter.'
f
It is
thought that St. Paul also saw God, as our father Elias,
*
3
Kings xix. 12.
f
2 Cor. xii.
4.
in the whisper of a gentle air. For as
'
faith cometh
by hearing
'
so the Apostle teachesthat is, by the
hearing of the material ear, so also that which the
faith teaches, the intelligible truth, cometh by spiritual
hearing.
21. The prophet
Job,
speaking to God, when He
revealed Himself unto him, teaches the same doctrine,
saying,
'
With the hearing of the ear I have heard Thee,
but now my eye seeth Thee.'
*
It is clear, from this, that
to hear with the ear of the soul is to see with the eye
of the passive understanding. He does not say,
'
I heard
with the hearing of my ears,' but
'
with the hearing of my
ear
'
; nor,
'
with the seeing of my eyes,' but
'
with the eye
of my understanding ' ;
the hearing of the soul is, therefore,
the vision of the understanding.
22. Still, we are not to think that what the soul
perceives, though pure truth, can be the perfect and
clear fruition of Heaven. For though it be free from
accidents, as I said before,! it is dim and not clear,
because it is contemplation, which in this life, as
St. Dionysius saith,
'
is a ray of darkness,'
J
and thus we
may say that it is a ray and an image of fruition, because
it is in the understanding, which is the seat of fruition.
*
Job
xlii.
5.
t

20.
I
' De Mystica Theologia,' cap. i, irpbs ttjc virepovaLov rod delov ctkotovs
aKTiva.
Il8 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV.]
This substantial truth, cahed here a whisper, is the
*
eyes desired
'
which the Beloved showed to the bride,
who, unable to bear the vision, cried,
'
Turn them away,
my Beloved.'
*
23.
There is a passage in the book of
Job
which
greatly confirms what I have said of rapture and be-
trothal, and, because I consider it to be much to the
purpose, I will give it here, though it may de'ay us a
little, and explain those portions of it which belong to
my subject. The explanation shall be short, and, when
1 shall have made it, I shall go on to explain the other
stanza. The passage is as follows :
'
To me there was
spoken a secret word,' said Ehphaz the Themanite,
'
and,
as it were, my ear by stealth received the veins of its
whisper. In the horror of a vision by night, when deep
sleep is wont to hold men, fear held me and trembling,
and all my bones were made sore afraid : and when the
spirit passed before me the hair of my flesh stood upright.
There stood one whose countenance I knew not, an
image before mine eyes, and I heard the voice, as it
were, of a gentle wind.'
t
24.
This passage contains almost all I said about
rapture in the thirteenth stanza, where the bride says :
'
Turn them away, O my Beloved.' The
'
word spoken
in secret
'
to Eliphaz is that secret communication
*
Cant. vi.
4
t
Job
iv. 12-16,
which by reason of its greatness the soul was not able
to endure, and, therefore, cried out :
'
Turn them away,
O my Beloved.' Eliphaz says that his
'
ear as it were
by stealth received the veins of its whisper.' By that
is meant the pure substance which the understanding
receives, for the
'
veins
'
here denote the interior sub-
stance. The whisper is that communication and touch
of the virtues whereby the said substance is communi-
cated to the understanding. It is called a whisper because
of its great gentleness. And the soul calls it the amorous
gales because it is lovingly communicated. It is said to
be received as it were by stealth, for as that which is
stolen is alienated, so this secret is alien to man, speaking
in the order of nature, because that which he received
does not appertain to him naturally, and thus it was not
lawful for him to receive it
;
neither was it lawful for
St. Paul to repeat what he heard. For this reason the
prophet saith twice,
'
My secret to myself, my secret
to myself.'
*
25. When Eliphaz speaks of the horror of the vision
by night, and of the fear and trembling that seized upon
him, he refers to the awe and dread that comes upon
the soul naturally in rapture, because in its natural
strength it is unable, as I said before, f to endure the
communication of the Spirit of God. The prophet gives
*
Is. xxiv. 16.
t
Stan. xiii.

i.
120 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIV, XV.]
US to understand that, as when sleep is about to fall
upon men, a certain vision which they call a nightmare
is wont to oppress and terrify them in the interval
between sleeping and waking, which is the moment of
the approach of sleep, so in the spiritual passage between
the sleep of natural ignorance and the waking of the
supernatural understanding, which is the beginning of
an ecstasy or rapture, the spiritual vision then revealed
makes the soul fear and tremble.
26.
'
All my bones were affrighted
'
; that is, were
shaken and disturbed. By this he meant a certain
dislocation of the bones which takes place when the soul
falls into an ecstasy. This is clearly expressed by Daniel
when he saw the angel, saying,
'
O my lord, at the sight
of thee my joints are loosed.'
*
'
When the spirit passed
before me
'
that is,
'
When my spirit was made to tran-
scend the ways and limitations of nature in ecstasies and
raptures
'
' the hair of my flesh stood upright

'
; that is,
my body was chilled, and the flesh contracted, like that
of a dead man.'
27.
'
There stood One
'
that is God, Who reveals
Himself after this manner
' \\'hose countenance I

knew not ' : in these communications or visions, however
high they may be, tlic soul neither knows nor beholds
the face and being of God.
'
An image before my eyes
'
;
*
Dan, X. 16.
[STAN. XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 121
that is, the knowledge of the secret words was most
deep, as it were the image and face of God
;
but still this
is not the essential vision of God.
'
I heard the voice,
as it were, of a gentle wind ' ;
this is the whisper of the
amorous galesthat is, of the Beloved of the soul.
28. But it is not to be supposed that these visits
of God are always attended by such terrors and distress
of nature : that happens to them only who are entering
the state of illumination and perfection, and in this
kind of communications
;
for in others they come with
great sweetness.
STANZA XV
'
The tranquil night.' In this spiritual sleep in the
bosom of the Beloved the soul is in possession and fruition
of all the calm, repose, and quiet of a peaceful night,
and receives at the same time in God a certain dim,
unfathomable divine intelligence. This is the reason
why it says that the Beloved is to it the tranquil night.
2. 'At the approaches of the dawn.' This tranquil
night is not like a night of darkness, but rather hke
the night when the sunrise is drawing nigh. This tran-
quillity and repose in God is not all darkness to the soul,
as the dark night is, but rather tranquilHty and repose in
the divine light and in a new knowledge of God, whereby
122 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XV.]
the mind, most sweetly tranquil, is raised to a divine
light.
3.
This divine light is here very appropriately called
the approaches of the dawn, that is, the twilight
;
for
as the twilight of the morn disperses the darkness of the
night and reveals the light of day, so the mind, tranquil
and reposing in God, is raised up from the darkness of
natural knowledge to the morning light of the super-
natural knowledge of God
;
not clear, indeed, as I have
said, but dim, like the night at the approaches of the
dawn. For as it is then neither wholly night nor wholly
day, but, as they say, twilight, so this solitude and divine
repose is neither perfectly illumined by the divine light
nor yet perfectly alien from it.
4.
In this tranquillity the understanding is lifted up
in a strange way above its natural comprehension to the
divine light : it is like a man who, after a profound sleep,
opens his eyes to unexpected light. This knowledge is
referred to by David when he says,
'
I have watched,
and am become as the lonely sparrow on the housetop
'
;
*
that is,
'
I opened the eyes of my understanding, and was
raised up above all natural comprehension, lonely,
without them, on the housetop, lifted up above all earthly
considerations.' He says that he was
'
become as the
lonely sparrow,' because, in this kind of contemplation,
*
Ps. ci. 8.
the spirit has the properties of the sparrow. These are
five in number :
i. It frequents in general high places
;
and thespirit,
in this state, rises to the highest contemplation.
ii. It is ever turning its face in the direction of the
wind, and the spirit turns its affections thither whence
comes the spirit of love, which is God.
iii. It is in general solitary, abstaining from the
companionship of others, and flying away when any
approach it : so the spirit, in contemplation, is far away
from all worldly thoughts, lonely in its avoidance of
them
;
neither does it consent to anything except to
this solitude in God.
iv. It sings most sweetly, and so also does the
spirit at this time sing unto God
;
for the praises
which it offers up proceed from the sweetest love,
most pleasing to itself, and most precious in the sight
of God.
V. It is of no definite colour
;
so also is the perfect
spirit, which in this ecstasy is not only without any
tinge of sensual affection or self-love, but also without
any particular consideration of the things of heaven or
earth ; neither can it give any account whatever of
them, because it has entered into the abyss of the know-
ledge of God,
'
The silent music'
124
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XV.]
5.
In this silence and tranquillity of the night, and
in this knowledge of the divine light, the soul discerns
a marvellous arrangement and disposition of God's
wisdom in the diversities of His creatures and operations.
All these, and each one of them, have a certain
correspondence with God, whereby each, by a voice
peculiar to itself, proclaims what there is in itself of God,
so as to form a concert of sublimest melody, transcending
all the harmonies of the world. This is the silent music,
because it is knowledge tranquil and calm, without
audible voice
;
and thus the sweetness of music and the
repose of silence are enjoyed in it. The soul says that
the Beloved is silent music, because this harmony of
spiritual music is in Him understood and felt. He is
not this only, He is also
'
The murmuring solitude.'
6. This is almost the same as the silent music. For
though the music is inaudible to the senses and the
natural powers, it is a solitude most full of sound to
the spiritual powers. These powers being in solitude,
emptied of all forms and natural apprehensions, may
well receive in spirit, like a resounding voice, the spiritual
impression of the majesty of God in Himself and in His
creatures ;
as it happened to St. John,
who heard in
spirit as it were
'
the voice of harpers harping on their
harps.'
*
St. John
heard this in spirit : it was not
material harps that he heard, but a certain knowledge
that he had of the praises of the blessed, which every one
of them, each in his own degree of glory, is continually
singing before God. It is as it were music. For as
every one of the saints had the gifts of God in a different
way, so every one of them sings His praises in a different
way, and yet all harmonise in one concert of love, as in
music.
7.
In the same way, in this tranquil contemplation,
the soul beholds all creatures, not only the highest, but
the lowest also, each one according to the gift of God
to it, sending forth the voice of its witness to what God
is. It beholds each one magnifying Him in its own
way, and possessing Him according to its particular
capacity
;
and thus all these voices together unite in
one strain in praise of God's greatness, wisdom, and
marvellous knowledge. This is the meaning of those
words of the Holy Ghost in the Book of Wisdom :
'
The
Spirit of our Lord hath replenished the whole world,
and that which containeth all things hath the knowledge
of the voice.'
f
'
The voice
'
is the murmuring solitude,
which the soul is said to know, namely, the witness
which all things bear to God. Inasmuch as the soul
hears this music only in solitude and in estrangement
*
Apoc. xiv. 2.
t
Wisd. i.
7.
from all outward things, it calls it silent music and
murmuring solitude. These are the Beloved.
*
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.'
8. Lovers find recreation, satisfaction, and love in
feasts. And because the Beloved in this sweet com-
munication produces these three effects in the soul, He
is here said to be the supper that revives, and enkindles
love. In Holy Scripture supper signifies the divine
vision, for as supper is the conclusion of the day's labours,
and the beginning of the night's repose, so the soul in
this tranquil knowledge is made to feel that its trials
are over, the possession of good begun, and its love of
God increased. Hence, then, the Beloved is to the soul
the supper that revives, in being the end of its trials,
and that enkindles love, in being the beginning of the
fruition of all good.
9.
That we may see more clearly how the Bridegroom
is the supper of the soul, we must refer to those words
of the Beloved in the Apocalypse :
'
Behold, I stand at
the door and knock. If any man shall hear My voice,
and open to Me the gate, I will enter in to him, and
will sup with him, and he with Me.'
*
It is evident
from these words that He brings the supper with Him,
which is nothing else but His own sweetness and delights,
*
Apoc. iii. 20.
[STAN. XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I27
wherein He rejoiceth Himself, and which He, uniting
Himself to the soul, communicates to it, making it a
partaker of His joy : for this is the meaning of
'
I will
sup with him, and he with Me.' These words describe
the effect of the divine union of the soul with God, wherein
it shares the very goods of God Himself, Who communi-
cates them graciously and abundantly to it. Thus the
Beloved is Himself the supper which revives, and en-
kindles love, refreshing the soul with His abundance,
and enkindling its love in His graciousness.
10. But before I proceed to explain the stanzas which
follow, I must observe that, in the state of betrothal,
wherein the soul enjoys this tranquilhty, and wherein
it receives all that it can receive in this life, we are not
to suppose its tranquillity to be perfect, but that the
higher part of it is tranquil
;
for the sensual part, except
in the state of spiritual marriage, never loses all its im-
perfect habits, and its powers are never wholly subdued,
as I shall show hereafter.* What the soul receives
now is all that it can receive in the state of be-
trothal, for in that of the marriage the blessings are
greater. Though the bride-soul has great joy in these
visits of the Beloved in the state of betrothal,
still
it has to suffer from His absence, to endure trouble
and afflictions in the lower part, and at the hands of
*
stanza xxvi.
the devil. But all this ceases in the state of spiritual
marriage.
NOTE
The bride now in possession of the virtues in their
perfection, whereby she is ordinarily rejoicing in peace
when the Beloved visits her, is now and then in the
fruition of the fragrance and sweetness of those virtues
in the highest degree, because the Beloved touches
them within her, just as the sweetness and beauty of
the lilies and other flowers when in their bloom are
perceived when we handle them. For in many of these
visits the soul discerns within itself all its virtues which
God has given it
;
He shedding light upon them. The
soul now, with marvellous joy and sweetness of love,
binds them together and presents them to the Beloved
as a nosegay of beautiful flowers, and the Beloved in
accepting themfor He truly accepts them then
accepts thereby a great service. All this takes place

within the soul, feeling that the Beloved is within it as
on His own couch, for the soul presents itself with the
virtues which is the greatest service it can render Him,
and thus this is one of the greatest joys which in its
interior converse with God the soul is wont to receive
in presents of this kind made to the Beloved.
2. The devil, beholding this prosperity of the soul.
[STAN. XV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I29
and in his great malice envying all the good he sees in
it, now uses all his power, and has recourse to all his
devices, in order to thwart it, if possible, even in the
slightest degree. He thinks it of more consequence to
keep back the soul, even for an instant, from this abund-
ance, bliss, and delight, than to make others fall into
many and mortal sins. Other souls have little or nothing
to lose, while this soul has much, having gained many
and great treasures
;
for the loss of one grain of refined
gold is greater than the loss of many of the baser metals.
3. The devil here has recourse to the sensual
appetites, though now they can give him generally but
little or no help because they are mortified, and because
he cannot turn them to any great account in distracting
the imagination. Sometimes he stirs up many movements
in the sensitive part of the soul, and causes other vexa-
tions, spiritual as well as sensual, from which the soul
is unable to deliver itself until our Lord shall send His
angel, as it is written,
'
The angel of the Lord shall put
in himself about them that fear Him, and shall deliver
them
;
'
*
and so establish peace, both in the spiritual
and sensitive parts of the soul. With a view to show
forth this truth, and to ask this favour, the soul, appre-
hensive by experience of the craft which the devil makes
use of to thwart this good, addressing itself to the angels,
*
Ps. xxxiii. 8.
130
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVI.]
whose function it is to succour it at this time by putting
the evil spirits to flight, speaks as in the following
stanza :
STANZA XVI
Catch us the foxes,
For our vineyard hath flourished
;
While
of
roses
We make a nosegay,
*
- *
And let no one appear on the hill.
The soul, anxious that this interior delight of love, which
is the flowers of the vineyard, should not be interrupted,
either by envious and malicious devils, or the raging
desires of sensuality, or the various comings and goings
of the imagination, or any other consciousness or presence
of created things, calls upon the angels to seize and
hinder all these from interrupting its practice of interior
love, in the joy and sweetness of which the soul and
the Son of God communicate and delight in the virtues
and graces.
,,
,
.1
^.^
*
Catch us the foxes, for our vineyard hath flourished.'
2. The vineyard is the plantation in this holy soul
of all the virtues which minister to it the wine of sweet
taste. The vineyard of the soul is then flourishing when
it is united in will to the Bridegroom, and delights itself
in Him in all the virtues. Sometimes, as I have just
[STAN. XVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I3I
said, the memory and the fancy are assailed by various
forms and imaginings, and divers motions and desires
trouble the sensual part. The great variety and diversity
of these made David say, when he felt the inconvenience
and the trouble of them as he was drinking of the sweet
wine of the spirit, thirsting greatly after God :
'
For
Thee my soul hath thirsted, for Thee my flesh, O how
many ways.'
*
3.
Here the soul calls the whole troop of desires and
stirrings of sense, foxes, because of the great resemblance
between them at this time. As foxes pretend to be
asleep that they may pounce upon their prey when it
comes in their way, so all the desires and powers of
sense in the soul are asleep until the flowers of virtue
grow, flourish, and bloom. Then the desires and powers
of sense awake to resist the Spirit and domineer.
'
The
flesh lusteth against the spirit,'
f
and as the inclination
of it is towards the sensual desires, it is disgusted as
soon as it tastes of the Spirit, and herein the desires
prove extremely troublesome to spiritual sweetness.
'
Catch us the foxes.'
4.
The evil spirits now molest the soul in two ways.
They vehemently excite the desires, and employ them
with other imaginations to assail the peaceful and
*
Ps. Ixii. 2,
t
Gal. v.
17,
132
flourishing kingdom of the soul. Thenand this is much
worsewhen they do not succeed in stirring up the desires,
they assail the soul with bodily pains and noises in
order to distract it. And, what is still more serious,
they fight with spiritual horror and dread, and sometimes
with fearful torments, which, at this time, if God permits
them, they can most effectually bring about, for inasmuch
as the soul is now spiritually detached, so as to perform
its spiritual exercises, the devil being himself a spirit
presents himself before it with great ease.
5.
At other times the evil spirit assails the soul with
other horrors, before it begins to have the fruition of
the sweet flowers, when God is beginning to draw it forth
out of the house of sense that it may enter on the interior
exercises in the garden of the Bridegroom, for he knows
well that once entered into this state of recollection it
is there so protected that, notwithstanding all he can
do, he cannot hurt it. Very often, too, when the devil
goes forth to meet the soul, the soul becomes quickly
recollected in the secret depths of its interior, where it
finds great sweetness and protection
;
then those terrors
of Satan are so far off that they not only produce no
fear, but are even the occasion of peace and joy. The
bride, in the Canticle, speaks of these terrors, saying,
*
My soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab.'
*
*
Cant. vi. 11.
[STAN. XVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I33
Aminadab is the evil spirit, and his chariots are his
assaults upon the soul, which he makes with great
violence, noise, and confusion.
6. The bride also says what the soul says here,
namely :
'
Catch us the little foxes that destroy the
vineyards
;
for our vineyard hath flourished.'
*
She
does not say,
'
Catch me,' but
'
Catch us,' because she is
speaking of herself and the Beloved
;
for they are one,
and enjoy the flourishing of the vineyard together.
7.
The reason why the vineyard is said to be
flourishing and not bearing fruit is this : the soul in
this hfe has the fruition of virtues, however perfect they
may be, only in their flower, because the fruit of them
is reserved for the life to come.
'
While of roses we make a nosegay.'
8. Now, at this time, while the soul is rejoicing in
the flourishing of the vineyard, and delighting itself in
the bosom of the Beloved, all its virtues are perfect,
exhibiting themselves to the soul, and sending forth
great sweetness and delight. The soul feels them to
be in itself and in God so as to seem to be one vineyard
most flourishing and pleasing belonging to both, wherein
they feed and delight. Then the soul binds all its virtues
together, makes acts of love in each of them separately,
*
Cant. ii. 15.
134
and in all together, and then offers them all to the
Beloved, with great tenderness of love and sweetness,
and in this the Beloved helps it, for without His help
and favour it cannot make this union and oblation of
virtue to the Beloved. Hence it says,
'
We make a
nosegay
'
that is
'
the Beloved and myself.'
9.
This union of the virtues is called a nosegay
;
for as a nosegay is cone-like in form, and a cone is strong,
containing and embracing many pieces firmly joined
together, so this cone-like nosegay of the virtues which
the soul makes for the Beloved is the uniform perfection
of the soul which firmly and solidly contains and
embraces many perfections, great virtues, and rich
endowments ; for all the perfections and virtues of
the soul unite together to form but one. And while
this perfection is being accomplished, and when ac-
complished, offered to the Beloved on the part of the
soul, it becomes necessary to catch the foxes that they
may not hinder this mutual interior communication.
The soul prays not only that this nosegay may be carefully
made, but also adds,
'
And let no one appear on the hill.'
10. This divine interior exercise requires solitude
and detachment from all things, whether in the lower
part of the soul, which is that of sense, or in the higher,
which is the rational. These two divisions comprise
all the faculties and senses of man, and are here called
[STAN. XVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ItS BRIDEGROOM I35
the hill ; because all our natural notions and desires
being in them, as quarry on a hill, the devil lays in wait
among these notions and desires, in order that he may
injure the soul.
'
And let no one appear on the hill.'
11. That is, let no representation or image of any
object whatever, appertaining to any of these faculties
or senses, appear in the presence of the soul and the
Bridegroom : in other words, let the spiritual powers
of the soul, memory, understanding, and will be divested
of all notions, particular inclinations, or considerations
whatsoever
;
and let all the senses and faculties of the
body, interior as well as exterior, the imagination, the
fancy, the sight and hearing, and the rest be divested of
all occasions of distractions, of all forms, images, and
representations, and of all other natural operations.
12. The soul speaks in this way because it is necessary
for the perfect fruition of this communication of God,
that all the senses and powers, both interior and exterior,
should be disencumbered and emptied of their proper
objects and operations
;
for the more active they are,
the greater will be the hindrance which they will occasion.
The soul having attained to a certain interior union
of love, the spiritual faculties of it are no longer active,
and still less those of the body
;
for now that the union
136 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVI.]
of love is actually wrought in love, the faculties of the
soul cease from their exertions, because now that the
goal is reached all employment of means is at an end.
What the soul at this time has to do is to wait lovingly
upon God, and this waiting is love in a continuation of
unitive love. Let no one, therefore, appear on the hill,
but the will only waiting on the Beloved in the offering
up of self and of all the virtues in the way described.
NOTE
For the clearer understanding of the following stanza,
we must keep in mind that the absence of the Beloved,
from which the soul suffers in the state of spiritual
betrothal, is an exceedingly great affliction, and at
times greater than all other trials whatever. The reason
is this : the love of the soul for God is now so vehement
and deep that the pain of His absence is vehement and
deep also. This pain is increased also by the annoyance
which comes from intercourse with creatures, which is
very great ; for the soul, under the pressure of its
quickened desire of union with God, finds all other
conversation most painful and difficult to endure. It
is like a stone in its flight to the place whither it is rapidly
tending
; every obstacle it meets with occasions a
violent shock. And as the soul has tasted of the sweet-
[STAN. XVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I37
ness of the Beloved's visits, which are more desirable
than gold and all that is beautiful, it therefore dreads
even a momentary absence, and addresses itself as follows
to aridities, and to the Spirit of the Bridegroom
:
STANZA XVII
Killing north wind, cease,
Come, south wind, that awakenest love !
Blow through my garden.
And let its odours flow.
And the Beloved shall feed among the floiuers.
Beside the causes mentioned in the foregoing stanza,
spiritual dryness also hinders the fruition of this interior
sweetness of which I have been speaking, and afraid of
it the soul had recourse to two expedients, to which it
refers in the present stanza. The first is to shut the
door against it by unceasing prayer and devotion. The
second, to invoke the Holy Ghost
;
it is He Who drives
away dryness from the soul, maintains and increases
its love of the Bridegroomthat He may establish in
it the practice of virtue, and all this to the end that
the Son of God, its Bridegroom, may rejoice and delight
in it more and more, for its only aim is to please the
Beloved.
'
Killing north wind, cease.'
2. The north wind is exceedingly cold
;
it dries up
138 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVII.]
and parches flowers and plants, and at the least, when
it blows, causes them to draw in and shrink. So, dryness
of spirit and the sensible absence of the Beloved, because
they produce the same effect on the soul, exhausting the
sweetness and fragrance of virtue, are here called the
killing north wind ; for all the virtues and affective
devotions of the soul are then dead. Hence the soul
addresses itself to it, saying,
'
Killing north wind, cease,'
These words mean that the soul applies itself to spiritual
exercises, in order to escape aridity. But the communi-
cations of God are now so interior that by no exertion
of its faculties can the soul attain to them if the Spirit
of the Bridegroom do not cause these movements of
love. The soul, therefore, addresses Him, saying :
'
Come, south wind, that awakenest love.'
3.
The south wind is another wind commonly called
the south-west \vind. It is soft, and brings rain
;
it
makes the grass and plants grow, flowers to blossom
and scatter their perfume abroad
;
in short, it is the very
opposite in its effects of the north wind. By it is meant
here the Holy Ghost, Who awakeneth love
;
for when
this divine Breath breathes on the soul, it so inflames
and refreshes it, so quickens the will, and stirs up the
desires, which were before low and asleep as to the
love of God, that we may well say of it that it quickens
the love between Him and the soul. The prayer of
the soul to the Holy Ghost is thus expressed,
'
Blow
through my garden.'
4.
This garden is the soul itself. For as the soul
said of itself before, that it was a flourishing vineyard,
because the flowers of virtue which are in it give forth
the wine of sweetness, so here it says of itself that it
is a garden, because the flowers of perfection and the
virtues are planted in it, flourish, and grow.
5.
Observe, too, that the expression is
'
blow through
my garden,' not blow in it. There is a great difference
between God's breathing into the soul and through it.
To breathe into the soul is to infuse into it graces, gifts,
and virtues
;
to breathe through it is, on the part of
God, to touch and move its virtues and perfections now
possessed, renewing them and stirring them in such a
way that they send forth their marvellous fragrance
and sweetness. Thus aromatic spices, when shaken or
touched, give forth the abundant odours which are not
otherwise so distinctly perceived. The soul is not
always in the conscious fruition of its acquired and
infused virtues, because, in this life, they are like flowers
in seed, or in bud, or like aromatic spices covered over,
the perfume of which is not perceived till they are exposed
and shaken.
6. But God sometimes is so merciful to the bride-
140 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVII.]
soul, asthe Holy Ghost breathing meanwhile through
the flourishing gardento open these buds of virtue
and expose the aromatic herbs of the soul's gifts, per-
fections, and riches, to manifest to it its interior
treasures and to reveal to it all its beauty. It is then
marvellous to behold, and sweet to feel, the abundance
of the gifts now revealed in the soul, and the beauty
of the flowers of virtue now flourishing in it. No
language can describe the fragrance which every one of
them diffuses, each according to its kind. This state
of the soul is referred to in the words,
'
Let its odours
flow.'
7.
So abundant are these odours at times, that the
soul seems enveloped in delight and bathed in inestimable
bliss. Not only is it conscious itself of them, but they
even overflow it, so that those who know how to discern
these things can perceive them. The soul in this state
seems to them as a delectable garden, full of the joys
and riches of God. This is observable in holy souls,
not only when the flowers open, but almost always
;
for they have a certain air of grandeur and dignity
which inspires the beholders with awe and reverence,
because of the supernatural effects of their close and
familiar converse with God. We have an illustration of
this in the life of Moses, the sight of whose face the
people could not bear, by reason of the glory that rested
ISTAN. XVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I41
upon itthe effect of his speaking to God face to
face.*
8. While the Holy Ghost is breathing through the
gardenthis is His visitation of the soulthe Bride-
groom Son of God communicates Himself to it in a
profound way, enamoured of it. It is for this that He
sends the Holy Spirit before Himas He sent the
Apostles
t
to make ready the chamber of the soul
His bride, comforting it with delight, setting its garden
in order, opening its flowers, revealing its gifts, and
adorning it with the tapestry of graces. The bride-soul
longs for this with all its might, and therefore bids the
north wind not to blow, and invokes the south wind
to blow through the garden, because she gains much
here at once.
9.
The bride now gains the fruition of all her virtues
in the'r sweetest exercise. She gains the fruition of
her Beloved in them, because it is through them that He
converses with her in most intimate love, and grants her
favours greater than any of the past. She gains, too,
that her Beloved delights more in her because of the
actual exercise of virtue, which is what pleases her most,
namely, that her Beloved should be pleased with her.
She gains also the permanent continuance of the sweet
fragrance which remains in the soul while the Bridegroom
*
Exod. xxxiv.
30.
t
St. Luke xxii. 8.
142
A SPIKITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVII.]
is present, and the bride entertains Him with the sweet-
ness of her virtues, as it is written :
'
While the King
was at His repose,' that is, in the soul,
'
my spikenard
sent forth its odour.'* The spikenard is the soul, which
from the flowers of its virtues sends forth sweet odours
to the Beloved, Who dwells within it in the union of love.
10. It is therefore very much to be desired that every
soul should pray the Holy Ghost to blow through its
garden, that the divine odours of God may flow. And
as this is so necessary, so blissful and profitable to the
soul, the bride des'res it, and prays for it, in the words
of the Canticle, saying, 'Arise, north wind, and come,
south wind
;
blow through my garden, and let the aro-
matical spices thereof flow.'f The soul prays for this,
not because of the delight and bliss consequent upon
it, but because of the delight it ministers to the Beloved,
and because it prepares the way and announces the
presence of the Son of God, Who cometh to rejoice in
it. Hence the soul adds :
'
And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers,'
11. The delight which the Son of God finds now in
the soul is described as pasture. This word expresses
most forcibly the truth, because pasture not only
gladdeneth, but also sustaineth. Thus the Son of God
*
Cant. i. II.
f
Cant, iv, i6.
delights in the soul, in the delights thereof, and is sus-
tained in themthat is, He abides within it as in a place
which pleases Him exceedingly, because the place itself
really delights in Him. This, I believe, is the meaning
of those words recorded in the proverbs of Solomon :
'
My delights were to be with the children of men ;
'*
that is, when they delight to be with Me, Who am the
Son of God.
12. Observe, here, that it is not said that the Beloved
shall feed on the flowers, but that He shall feed among
the flowers. For, as the communications of the Beloved
are in the soul itself, through the adornment of the virtues,
it follows that what He feeds on is the soul which He
transformed into Himself, now that it is prepared and
adorned with these flowers of virtues, graces, and
per-
fections, which are the things whereby, and among which.
He feeds. These, by the power of the Holy
Ghost, are
sending forth in the soul the odours of sweetness
to the
Son of God, that He may feed there the more in the
love thereof
;
for this is the love of the Bridegroom,
to
be united to the soul amid the fragrance
of the
flowers,
13.
The bride in the Canticle has observed this, for
she had experience of it, saying :
'
My Beloved is gone
down into His garden, to the bed of aromatical
spices,
*
Prov. viii.
31.
144
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVII.]
to feed in the gardens, and to gather hUes. I to my
Beloved, and my Beloved to me, Who feedeth among the
lilies.'* That is,
'
Who feedeth and delighteth in my soul,
which is His garden, among the lilies of my virtues,
perfections, and graces.'
NOTE
In the state of spiritual espousals the soul contemplating
its great riches and excellence, but unable to enter
into the possession and fruition of them as it desires,
because it is still in the flesh, often suffers exceedingly,
and then more particularly when its knowledge of them
becomes more profound. It then sees itself in the body,
like a prince in prison, subject to all misery, whose
authority is disregarded, whose territories and wealth
are confiscated, and who of his former substance receives
but a miserable dole. How greatly he suffers any one
may see, especia'ly when his household is no longer
obedient, and his slaves and servants, forgetting all
respect, plunder him of the scanty provisions of his
table. Thus is it with the soul in the body, for when
God mercifully admits it to a foretaste of the good
things which He has prepared for it, the wicked servants
of desire in the sensual part, now a slave of disorderly
*
Cant. vi. i, 2.
motions, now other rebellious movements, rise up against
it in order to rob it of its good.
2. The soul feels itself as if it were in the land of
enem:es, tyrannised over by the stranger, like the dead
among the dead. Its feelings are those which the
prophet Baruch gave vent to when he described the
misery of Jacob's captivity :
'
How happeneth it, O
Israel, that thou art in thy enemies' land ? thou art
grovNTi old in a strange country, thou art defiled with
the dead : thou art counted with them that go doNvn into
hell.'* This misery of the soul, in the captivity of the
body, is thus spoken of by Jeremias,saying :
'
Is Israel
a bondman or a home-born slave ? Why then is he
become a prey ? The lions have roared upon him,
and have made a noise.
'f
The lions are the desires
and the rebellious motions of the tyrant king of sensuality.
In order to express the trouble which this tyrant occasions,
and the desire of the soul to see this kingdom of sensuality
with all its hosts destroyed, or wholly subject to the
spirit, the soul lifting up its eyes to the Bridegroom, as
to one who can effect it, speaks against those rebellious
motions in the words of the next stanza.
*
Bar. iii. 10, 11.
f
Jer, ii. 14, 15.
10
146 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVIII.]
STANZA XVIII
nymphs
of Judea !
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume,
Tarry in the suburbs,
And touch not our thresholds.
It is the bride that speaks
;
for seeing herself, as to
the higher part of the soul, adorned with the rich endow-
ments of her Beloved, and seeing Him delighting in
her, she desires to preserve herself in security, and in
the continued fruition of them. Seeing also that
hindrances will arise, as in fact they do, from the
sensual part of the soul, which will disturb so great
a good, she bids the operations and motions of the
soul's lower nature to cease, in the senses and faculties
of it, and sensuality not to overstep its boundaries to
trouble and disquiet the higher and spiritual portion
of the soul : not to hinder even for a moment the sweet-
ness she enjoys. The motions of the lower part, and
their powers, if they show themselves during the enjoy-
ment of the spirit, are so much more troublesome and
disturbing, the more active they are,
'
O nymphs of Judea.'
2. The lower, that is the sensual part of the soul,
i5 called Judea. It is called Judea because it is weak,
[STAN. XVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM T47
and carnal, and blind, like the Jewish people. All
the imaginations, fancies, motions, and inclinations
of the lower part of the soul are called nymphs
;
for
as nymphs with their beauty and attractions entice
men to love them, so the operations and motions of
sensuality softly and earnestly strive to entice the will
from the rational part, in order to withdraw it from
that which is interior, and to fix it on that which is
exterior, to which they are prone themselves. They
also strive to influence the understanding to join with
them in their low views, and to bring down reason to
the level of sense by the attractions of the latter. The
soul, therefore, says in effect :
'
O sensual operations
and motions.'
'
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees.*
3.
The flowers, as I have said, are the virtues of the
soul, and the rose-trees are its powers, memory, under-
standing, and will, which produce and nurture the
flowers of divine conceptions, acts of love and the virtues,
while the amber sends forth its perfume in the virtues
and powers of the soul.
'
The amber sends forth its perfume.'
4.
The amber is the divine spirit of the Bridegroom
Who dwells in the soul. To send forth the perfume
148
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVIII.]
among the flowers and the rose-trees, is to diffuse and
communicate Himself most sweetly in the powers and
virtues of the soul, thereby filHng it with the perfume
of divine sweetness. Meanwhile, then, when the Divine
Spirit is filling my soul with spiritual sweetness,
'
Tarry in the suburbs.'
5.
In the suburbs of Judea, which is the inferior or
sensual part of the soul. The suburbs are the interior
senses, namely, memory, fancy, and imagination, where
forms and images of things collect, by the help of which
sensuality stirs up concupiscence and desires. These
forms are the nymphs, and while they are quiet and
tranquil the desires are also asleep. They enter into
the suburbs of the interior senses by the gates of the
outward senses, of sight, hearing, smell, etc. We can
thus give the name of suburbs to all the powers and
interior or exterior senses of the sensual part of the
soul, because they are outside the walls of the city.
6. That part of the soul which may be called the
city is that which is most interior, the rational part,
which is capable of converse with God, the operations
of which are contrary to those of sensuality. But there
is a natural intercourse between those who dwell in
the suburbs of the sensual partthat is, the nymphs
and those who dwell in the higher part, which is the

[STAN, XVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I49
city itself ; and, therefore, what takes place in the
lower part is ordinarily felt in the higher, and conse-
quently compels attention to itself and disturbs the
spiritual operation which is conversant with God. Hence
the soul bids the nymphs tarry in the suburbsthat is,
to remain at rest in the exterior and interior senses
of the sensual part,
'
And touch not our thresholds.'
7.
Let not even your first movements touch the
higher part, for the first movements of the soul are
the entrance and thresholds of it. When the first move-
ments have passed into the reason, they have crossed
the threshold, but when they remain as first move-
ments only they are then said merely to touch the
threshold, or to cry at the gate, which is the case when
reason and sense contend over an unreasonable act.
The soul here not only bids these not to touch it, but
also charges all considerations whatever which do not
minister to its repose and the good it enjoys to keep
far away.
NOTE
The soul in this state is become so great an enemy of
the lower part, and its operations, that it would have
150 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XVIII.]
God communicate nothing to it when He communicates
with the higher. If He will communicate with the
lower, it must be in a slight degree, or the soul, because
of its natural weakness, will be unable to endure it
without fainting, and consequently the spirit cannot
rejoice in peace, because it is then troubled.
'
For,'
as the wise man says,
'
the body that is corrupted
burdeneth the soul.'
*
And as the soul longs for the
highest and noblest converse with God, which is im-
possible in the company of the sensual part, it begs
of God to deal with it without the intervention of the
senses. That sublime vision of St. Paul in the third
heaven, wherein, he says, he saw God, but yet knew
not whether he was in the body or out of the body,
must have been, be it what it may, independent of
the body : for if the body had any share in it, he must
have known it, and the vision could not have been
what it was, seeing that he
'
heard secret words which
it is not lawful for a man to speak.'
f
The soul, there-
fore, knowing well that graces so great cannot be received
in a vessel so mean, and longing to receive them out
of the body, or at least without it, addresses the Bride-
groom in the words that follow

*
Wisd. ix. 15.
f
2 Cor. xii. 2-^.
[STAN.
XIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I51
STANZA XIX
Hide Thyself, my Beloved !
Turn Thy face to the mountains.
Do not speak.
But regard the companions
Of
her who is travelling amidst strange islands.
Here the bride presents four petitions to the Bride-
groom. She prays that He would be pleased to
converse with her most interiorly in the secret chamber
of the soul. The second, that He would invest and
inform her faculties with the glory and excellence of
His Divinity. The third, that He would converse
with her so profoundly as to surpass all knowledge
and expression, and in such a way that the exterior
and sensual part may not perceive it. The fourth,
that He would love the many virtues and graces which
He has implanted in her, adorned with which she is
ascending upwards to God in the highest knowledge
of the Divinity, and in transports of love most strange
and singular, surpassing those of ordinary experience.
'
Hide Thyself, O my Beloved !
'
2.
'
O my Bridegroom, most beloved, hide Thyself
in the inmost depths of my soul, communicating
Thyself
to it in secret, and manifesting Thy hidden wonders
which no mortal eyes may see.
'Turn Thy face to the mountains.'
152
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIX.]
3.
The face of God is His Divinity. The mountains
are the powers of the soul, memory, understanding, and
will. Thus the meaning of these words is : Enlighten
my understanding with Thy Divinity, and give it the
divine intelligence, fill my will with divine love, and
my memory with divine possession of glory. The
bride here prays for all that may be prayed for
;
for
she is not content with that knowledge of God once
granted to Moses
*
the knowledge of Him by His
worksfor she prays to see the face of God, which
is the essential communication of His Divinity to the
soul, without any intervening medium, by a certain
knowledge thereof in the Divinity. This is something
beyond sense, and divested of accidents, inasmuch as
it is the contact of pure substancesthat is, of the soul
and the Divinity.
'
Do not speak.'
4.
That is, do not speak as before, when Thy con-
verse with me was known to the outward senses, for
it was once such as to be comprehended by them
;
it
was not so profound but they could fathom it. Now
let Thy converse with me be so deep and so substantial,
and so interior, as to be above the reach of the senses
;
for the substance of the spirit is incommunicable to
*
Exod. xxxiii.
23.
[STAN. XIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I53
sense, and the communication made through the senses,
especially in this life, cannot be purely spiritual, because
the senses are not capable of it. The soul, therefore,
longing for that substantial and essential communication
of God, of which sense cannot be cognizant, prays the
Bridegroom not to speak : that is to say, let the deep
secret of the spiritual union be such as to escape the
notice of the senses, like the secret which St. Paul heard,
and which it is not lawful for a man to speak.*
'
But regard the companions.'
5.
The regard of God is love and grace. The com-
panions here are the many virtues of the soul, its gifts,
perfections, and other spiritual graces with which God
has endowed it
;
p'edges, tokens, and presents of its
betrothal. Thus the meaning of the words seems to
be this :
'
Turn Thou Thy face to the interior of my
soul, O my Beloved ; be enamoured of the treasures
which Thou hast laid up there, so that, enamoured
of them, Thou mayest hide Thyself among them and
there dwell
;
for in truth, though they are Thine, they
are mine also, because Thou hast given them.'
'
Of her who travels amidst strange islands.'
6. That is,
'
Of my soul tending towards Thee through
strange knowledge of Thee, by strange ways
'
strange
*
2 Cor. xii.
4.
154
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XIX.]
to sense and to the ordinary perceptions of nature.
It is as if the bride said, by way of constraining Him
to yield :
'
Seeing that my soul is tending towards Thee
through knowledge which is spiritual, strange, unknown
to sense, do Thou also communicate Thyself to it so
interiorly and so profoundly that the senses may not
observe it.'
NOTE
In order to the attainment of a state of perfection so
high as this of the spiritual marriage, the soul that
aims at it must not only be purified and cleansed from
all the imperfections, rebellions, and imperfect habits
of the inferior part, which is nowthe old man being
put awaysubject and obedient to the higher, but
it must also have great courage and most exalted love
for so strong and close an embrace of God. For in
this state the soul not only attains to exceeding pureness
and beauty, but also acquires a terrible strength by
leason of that strict and close bond which in this union
binds it to God. The soul, therefore, in order to reach
this state must have purity, strength, and adequate
love. The Holy Ghost, the author of this spiritual
union, desirous that the soul should attain thus far
in order to merit it, addresses Himself to the Father
and the Son, saying :
'
Our sister is little, and hath
[STAN. XIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I55
no breasts. What shall we do to our sister in the day
when she is to be spoken to ? If she be a wall, let us
build upon it bulwarks of silver
;
if she be a door, let
us join it together with boards of cedar.'
*
2. The
'
bulwarks of silver
'
are the strong heroic
virtues comprised in the faith, which is signified by
silver, and these heroic virtues are those of the spiritual
marriage, which are built upon the soul, signified by
the wall, relying on the strength of which, the peaceful
Bridegroom reposes undisturbed by any infirmities.
The
'
boards of cedar
'
are the affections and accessories
of this deep love which is signified by the cedar-tree,
and this is the love of the spiritual marriage. In order
'
to join it together,' that is, to adorn the bride, it is
necessary she should be the door for the Bridegroom
to enter through, keeping the door of the will open in
a perfect and true consent of love, which is the consent
of the betrothal given previous to the spiritual marriage.
The breasts of the bride are also this perfect love which
she must have in order to appear in the presence of
Christ her Bridegroom for the perfection of such a state.
3. It is written in the Canticle that the bride in
her longing for this presence immediately replied,
saying :
'
I am a wall : and my breasts are as a tower
'
that is,
'
My soul is strong, and my love most deep
'
*
Cant. viii. 8.
156
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XX, XXI.]
that He may not fail her on that ground. The bride,
too, had expressed as much in the preceding stanzas,
out of the fulness of her longing for the perfect union and
transformation, and particularly in the last, wherein she
set before the Bridegroom all the virtues, graces, and good
dispositions with which she was adorned by Him, and that
with the object of making Him the prisoner of her love.
4.
Now the Bridegroom, to bring this matter to a
close, replies in the two stanzas that follow, which
describe Him as perfectly purifying the soul, strengthening
and disposing it, both as to its sensual and spiritual part,
for this state, and charging all resistance and rebellion,
both of the flesh and of the devil, to cease, saying :
STANZAS XX, XXI
THE BRIDEGROOM
Light-winged birds,
Lions, fawns, bounding does.
Mountains, valleys, strands.
Waters, winds, heat.
And the terrors that keep watch by night
;
By the soft lyres
And siren strains, I adjure you,
Let your fury cease,
And touch not the wall.
That the bride may sleep in greater security.
Here the Son of God, the Bridegroom, leads the bride
into the enjoyment of peace and tranquillity in the con-
[STAN. XX, XXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
157
formity of her lower to her higher nature, purging awa}^
all her imperfections, subjecting the natural powers of
the soul to reason, and mortifying all her desires, as it
is expressed in these two stanzas, the meaning of which
is as follows. In the first place the Bridegroom adjures
and commands all vain distractions of the fancy and
imagination from henceforth to cease, and controls the
irascible and concupiscible faculties which were hitherto
the sources of so much affliction. He brings, so far as
it is possible in this life, the three powers of memory,
understanding, and will to the perfection of their
objects, and then adjures and commands the four
passions of the soul, joy, hope, grief, and fear, to be
still, and bids them from henceforth be moderate and
calm.
2. All these passions and faculties are comprehended
under the expressions employed in the first stanza, the
operations of which, full of trouble, the Bridegroom
subdues by that great sweetness, joy, and courage which
the bride enjoys in the spiritual siurrender of Himself to
her which God makes at this time
;
under the influence
of which, because God transforms the soul effectually in
Himself, all the faculties, desires, and movements of
the soul lose their natural imperfection and become
divine.
'
Light-winged birds.'
158
3.
These are the distractions of the imagination,
light and rapid in their flight from one subject to another.
When the will is tranquilly enjoying the sweet con-
verse of the Beloved, these distractions produce weariness,
and in their swift flight quench its joy. The Bridegroom
adjures them by the soft lyres. That is, now that the
sweetness of the soul is so abundant and so continuous
that they cannot interfere with it, as they did before
when it had not reached this state. He adjures them,
and bids them cease from their disquieting violence.
The same explanation is to be given of the rest of the
stanza.
'
Lions, fawns, bounding does.'
4.
By the lions is meant the raging violence of the
irascible faculty, which in its acts is bold and daring as
a lion. The
'
fawois and bounding does
'
are the concu-
piscible facultythat is, the power of desire, the qualities
of which are two, timidity and rashness. Timidity
betrays itself when things do not turn out according
to our wishes, for then the mind retires \^dthin itself
discouraged, and in this respect the soul resembles the
fawns. For as fawns have the concupiscible faculty
stronger than many other animals, so are they more
retiring and more timid. Rashness betrays itself when
we have our own way, for the mind is then neither
retiring nor timid, but desires boldly, and gratifies all its
[STAN. XX, XXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I59
inclinations. This quality of rashness is compared to
the does, who so eagerly seek what they desire that
they not only run, but even leap after it ; hence they are
described as bounding does.
5.
Thus the Bridegroom, in adjuring the lions,
restrains the violence and controls the fury of rage
;
in
adjuring the fawns. He strengthens the concupisciblo
faculty against timidity and irresolution
;
and in ad-
juring the does He satisfies and subdues the desires
which were restless before, leaping, like deer, from one
object to another, to satisfy that concupiscence which
is now satisfied by the soft lyres, the sweetness of which
it enjoys, and by the siren strains, in the dehght of
which it revels.
6. But the Bridegroom does not adjure anger and
concupiscence themselves, because these passions never
cease from the soulbut their vexatious and disorderly
acts, signified by the
'
lions, fawns, and bounding does,'
for it is necessary that these disorderly acts should cease
in this state.
'
Mountains, valleys, strands.'
7.
These are the vicious and disorderly actions of
the three faculties of the soulmemory, understanding,
and will. These actions are disorderly and vicious when
they are in extremes, or, if not in extreme, tending to
l6o A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XX, XXI.]
one extreme or other. Thus the mountains signify those
actions which are vicious in excess, mountains being
high
;
the valleys, being low, signify those which are
vicious in the extreme of defect. Strands, which are
neither high nor low, but, inasmuch as they are not per-
fectly level, tend to one extreme or other, signify those
acts of the three powers of the soul which depart slightly
in either direction from the true mean and equality of
justice. These actions, though not disorderly in the
extreme, as they would be if they amounted to mortal
sin, are nevertheless disorderly in part, tending towards
venial sin or imperfection, however slight that tendency
may be, in the understanding, memory, and will. He
adjures also all these actions which depart from the
true mean, and bids them cease before the soft lyres and
the siren strains, which so effectually charm the powers
of the soul as to occupy them completely in their true
and proper functions, so that they avoid not only all
extremes, but also the slightest tendency to them.
'
Waters, winds, heat, and the terrors
that keep watch by night,'
8. These are the affections of the four passions,
grief, hope, joy, and fear. The waters are the affections
of grief which aiflict the soul, for they rush into it like
water.
'
Save me, O God,' saith the Psalmist,
'
for the
[STAN. XX, XXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM l6l
waters are come in even unto my soul.'
*
The winds
are the affections of hope, for they rush forth hke wind,
desiring that which is not present but lioped for, as the
Psabnist saith :
'
I opened my mouth and drew breath :
because I longed for Thy commandments.'
f
That is,
'
I opened the mouth of my hope, and drew in the wind of
desire, because I hoped and longed for Thy command-
ments.' Heat is the affections of joy which, like fire,
inflame the heart, as it is written :
'
My heart waxed
hot within me
;
and in my meditation a fire shall burn
'
;
J
that is, 'while I meditate I shall have joy.'
g.
The
'
terrors that keep watch by night
'
are the
affections of fear, which in spiritual persons who have
not attained to the state of spiritual marriage are usually
exceedingly strong. They come sometimes from God
when He is going to bestow certain great graces upon
soul?, as I said before
;
He is wont then to fill the mind
with dread, to make the flesh tremble and the senses
numb, because nature is not made strong and perfect and
prepared for these graces. They come also at times
from the evil spirit, who, out of envy and malignity,
when he sees a soul sweetly recollected in God, labours
to disturb its tranquillity by exciting horror and dread,
in order to destroy so great a blessing, and sometimes
*
Ps. Ixviii. 2.
f
Ps. cxviii. 131.
I
Ps. xxxviii.
4.
Stanza xiii.
4,
xiv.
26.
II ;
l62 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XX, XXI.]
utters his threats, as it were in the interior of the soul.
But when he finds that he cannot penetrate within the
soul, because it is so recollected, and so united with God,
he strives at least in the province of sense to produce
exterior distractions and inconstancy, sensible pains and
horrors, if perchance he may in this way disturb the soul
in the bridal chamber.
10. These are called terrors of the night, because they
are the work of evil spirits, and because Satan labours,
by the help thereof, to involve the soul in darkness,
and to obscure the divine light wherein it rejoiceth.
These terrors are called watchers, because they awaken
the soul and rouse it from its sweet interior slumber,
and also because Satan, their author, is ever on the watch
to produce them. These terrors strike the soul of
persons who are already spiritual, passively, and come
either from God or the evil spirit. I do not refer to
temporal or natural terrors, because spiritual men are
not subject to these, as they are to those of which I am
speaking.
11. The Beloved adjures the affections of these four
passions, compels them to cease and to be at rest, because
He supplies the bride now with force, and courage, and
satisfaction, by the soft lyres of His sweetness and the
siren strains of His delight, so that not only they shall
not domineer over the soul, but shall not occasion it any
[STAN. XX, XXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 163
distaste whatever. Such is the grandeur and stabihty of
the soul in this state, that, although formerly the waters
of grief overwhelmed it, because of its own or other men's
sinswhich is what spiritual persons most feelthe
consideration of them now excites neither pain nor
annoyance
;
even the sensible feeling of compassion
exists not now, though the effects of it continue in per-
fection. The weaknesses of its virtues are no longer in
the soul, for they are now constant, strong, and perfect.
As the angels perfectly appreciate all sorrowful things
without the sense of pain, and perform acts of mercy
without the sentiment of pity, so the soul in this trans-
formation of love. God, however, dispenses sometimes,
on certain occasions, with the soul in this matter, allow-
ing it to feel and suffer, that it may become more fervent
in love, and grow in merit, or for some other reasons, as
He dispensed with His Virgin Mother, St. Paul, and
others. This, however, is not the ordinary condition of
this state.
12. Neither do the desires of hope afflict the soul now,
because, satisfied in its union with God, so far as it is
possible in this life, it has nothing of this world to hope
for, and nothing spiritual to desire, seeing that it feels
itself to be full of the riches of God, though it may grow
in charity, and thus, whether living or dying, it is con-
formed to the will of God, saying with the sense and
164
spirit,
'
Thy will be done,' free from the violence of
inclination and desires
;
and accordingly even its longing
for the beatific vision is without pain.
13.
The affections of joy, also, which were wont to
move the soul with more or less vehemence, are not
sensibly diminished ; neither does their abundance
occasion any surprise. The joy of the soul is now so
abundant that it is hke the sea, which is not diminished
by the rivers that flow out of it, nor increased by those
that empty themselves into it
;
for the soul is now that
fountain of which our Lord said that it is
'
springing up
into life everlasting.'*
14.
I have said that the soul receives nothing new or
unusual in this state of transformation
;
it seems to lose
all accidental joy, which is not withheld even from the
glorified. That is, accidental joys and sweetness are
indeed no strangers to this soul
;
yea, rather, those which
it ordinarily has cannot be numbered
;
yet, for all this,
as to the substantial communication of the spirit, there
is no increase of joy, for that which may occur anew the
soul possesses already, and thus what the soul has already
within itself is greater than anything that comes anew.
Hence, then, whenever any subject of joy and gladness,
whether exterior or spiritually interior, presents itself
to the soul, the soul betakes itself forthwith to rejoicing in
*
St. John iv.
14.
the riches it possesses already within itself, and the joy it
has in them is far greater than any which these new
accessions minister, because, in a certain sense, God is
become its possession. Who, though He dehghts in all
things, yet in nothing so much as in Himself, seeing that
He has all good eminently in Himself. Thus all acces-
sions of joy serve to remind the soul that its real joy is
in its interior possessions, rather than in these accidental
causes, because, as I have said, the former are greater
than the latter.
15. It is very natural for the soul, even when a
particular matter gives it pleasure, that, possessing
another of greater worth and gladness, it should remember
it at once and take its pleasure in it. The accidental
character of these spiritual accessions, and the new
impressions they make on the soul, may be said to be as
nothing in comparison with that substantial source which
it has within itself
;
for the soul which has attained to
the perfect transformation, and is full-gro^\Tl, grows no
more in this state by means of these spiritual accessions,
as those souls do who have not yet advanced so far. It
is a marvellous thing that the soul, while it receives no
accessions of delight, should still seem to do so and also
to have been in possession of them. The reason is that
it is always tasting them anew, because they are ever
renewed ; and thus it seems to be continually the
recipient of new accessions, while it has no need of them
whatever.
i6. But if we speak of that hght of glory which in
this, the soul's embrace, God sometimes produces within
it, and which is a certain spiritual communion wherein
He causes it to behold and enjoy at the same time the
abyss of delight and riches which He has laid up s\dthin
it, there is no language to express any degree of it. As
the sun when it shines upon the sea illumines its great
depths, and reveals the pearls, and gold, and precious
stones therein, so the divine sun of the Bridegroom,
turning towards the bride, reveals in a way the riches of
her soul, so that even the angels behold her with amaze-
ment and say :
'
Who is she that cometh forth as the
morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
terrible as the army of a camp set in array.'
*
This
illumination adds nothing to the grandeur of the soul,
notwithstanding its greatness, because it merely reveals
that which the soul already possessed in order that it
might rejoice in it.
17.
Finally, the terrors that keep watch by night do
not come nigh unto her, because of her pureness, courage,
and confident trust in God ; the evil spirits cannot
shroud her in darkness, nor alarm her with terrors, nor
disturb her with their violent assaults. Thus nothing
*
Cant. vi.
9.
can approach her, nothing can molest her, for she has
escaped from all created things and entered in to God,
to the fruition of perfect peace, sweetness, and delight,
so far as that is possible in this life. It is to this state
that the words of Solomon are applicable :
'
A secure
mind is as it were a continual feast.'
*
As in a feast
we have the savour of all meat, and the sweetness of all
music, so in this feast, which the bride keeps in the
bosom of her Beloved, the soul rejoices in all delight, and
has the taste of all sweetness. All that I have said, and
all that may be said, on this subject, will always fall
short of that which passeth in the soul which has attained
to this blessed state. For when it shall have attained to
the peace of God,
'
which,' in the words of the Apostle,
'
surpasseth all understanding,'
f
ô description of its
state is possible.
'
By the soft lyres and the siren strains I adjure you.'
18. The soft lyres are the sweetness which the Bride-
groom communicates to the soul in this state, and by
which He makes all its troubles to cease. As the muse
of lyres fills the soul with sweetness and delight, carries
it rapturously out of itself, so that it forgets all its
weariness and grief, so in like manner this sweetness
so absorbs the soul that nothing painful can reach it.
The Bridegroom says, in substance :
'
By that sweetness
*
Prov, XV. 15.
f
Phil. iv.
7.
which I give thee, let all thy bitterness cease.' The siren
strains are the ordinary joys of the soul. These are
called siren strains because, as it is said, the music of the
sirens is so sweet and delicious that he who hears it is
so rapt and so carried out of himself that he forgets
everything. In the same way the soul is so absorbed in,
and refreshed by, the delight of this union that it be-
comes, as it were, charmed against all the vexations
and troubles that may assail it
;
it is to these the next
words of the stanza refer :
'
Let your fury cease.'
19.
This is the troubles and anxieties which flow
from unruly acts and affections. As anger is a certain
violence which disturbs peace, overleaping its bounds,
so also all these affections in their motions transgress
the bounds of the peace and tranquillity of the soul, dis-
turbing it whenever they touch it. Hence the Bride-
groom says :
'
And touch not the wall.'
20. The wall is the territory of peace and the fortress
of virtue and perfections, which are the defences and
protection of the soul. The soul is the garden wherein
the Beloved feeds among the flowers, defended and
guarded for Him alone. Hence it is called in the Canticle
'
a garden enclosed.'
*
The
Bridegroom bids all dis-
orderly emotions not to touch the territory and wall of
His garden.
21.
'
That the bride may sleep in greater security.'
That is, that she is delighting herself with more sweet-
ness in the tranquillity and sweetness she has in the
Beloved. That is to say, that now no door is shut
against the soul, and that it is in its power to abandon
itself whenever it wills to this sweet sleep of love, accord-
ing to the words of the Bridegroom in the Canticle,
'
I
adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and
the harts of the fields, that you raise not up nor make
the beloved to awake till herself will.'
f
NOTE
The Bridegroom was so anxious to rescue His bride from
the power of the flesh and the devil and to set her free,
that, having done so. He rejoices over her like the good
shepherd who, having found the sheep that was lost,
laid it upon his shoulders rejoicing
;
like the woman
who, having found the money she had lost, after lighting
a candle and sweeping the house, called
'
together her
friends and neighbours, saying. Rejoice with me.'
J
So this loving Shepherd and Bridegroom of souls shows a
*
Cant. iv. 12.
f
Cant. iii.
5.
J
St. Luke xv.
5, 8, 9.
170 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXII.]
marvellous
j
oy and delight when He beholds a soul gained
to perfection lying on His shoulders, and by His hands
held fast in the longed-for embrace and union. He is
not alone in His joy, for He makes the angels and the
souls of the blessed partakers of His glory, saying, as
in the Canticle,
'
Go forth, ye daughters of Sion, and see
king Solomon in the diadem wherewith his mother
crowned him in the day of his betrothal, and in the
day of the joy of his heart.'
*
He calls the soul His
crown. His bride, and the joy of His heart : He carries
it in His arms, and as a bridegroom leads it into His
bridal chamber, as we shall see in the following stanza :
STANZA XXn
The pleasant and desirable garden,
A nd there reposes to her heart's content
;
Her neck reclining
On the sweet arms
of
the Beloved.
The bride having done what she could in order that
the foxes may be caught, the north wind cease, the
nymphs, hindrances to the desired joy of the state of
spiritual marriage, forgo their troublesome importimities,
and having also invoked and obtained the favourable
*
Cant. iii. 11.
[STAN. XXII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I7I
wind of the Holy Ghost, which is the right disposition
and means for the perfection of this state, it remains for
me now to speak of it in the stanza in which the Bride-
groom calls the soul His bride, and speaks of two things :
(i) He says that the soul, having gone forth victoriously,
has entered the delectable state of spiritual marriage,
which they had both so earnestly desired.
(2)
He enu-
merates the properties of that state, into the fruition of
which the soul has entered, namely, perfect repose, and
the resting of the neck on the arms of the Beloved.
'
The bride has entered.'
2. For the better understanding of the arrangement
of these stanzas, and of the way by which the soul
advances till it reaches the state of spiritual marriage,
which is the very highest, and of which, by the grace of
God, I am now about to treat, we must keep in mind that
the soul, before it enters it, must be tried in tribulations,
in sharp mortifications, and in meditation on spiritual
things. This is the subject of this canticle till we come
to the fifth stanza, beginning with the words,
'
A thou-
sand graces diffusing.' Then the soul enters on the
contemplative life, passing through those ways and
straits of love which are described in the course of the
canticle, till we come to the thirteenth, beginning with
'
'
This is the moment
172
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXII,]
of the spiritual betrothal ; and then the soul advances
by the unitive way, the recipient of many and very great
communications, jewels and gifts from the Bridegroom
as to one betrothed, and grows into perfect love, as
appears from the stanzas which follow that beginning
with
'
'
(the moment of
betrothal), to the present, beginning with the words :
'
The bride has entered.'
3.
The spiritual marriage of the soul and the Son of
God now remains to be accomplished. This is, beyond
all comparison, a far higher state than that of betrothal,
because it is a complete transformation into the Beloved
;
whereby they surrender each to the other the entire
possession of themselves in the perfect union of love,
wherein the soul becomes divine, and, by participation,
God, so far as it is possible in this life. I believe that
no soul ever attains to this state ^îthout being confirmed
in grace, for the faithfulness of both is confirmed
;
that
of God being confirmed in the soul. Hence it follows,
that this is the very highest state possible in this life.
As by natural marriage there are
'
two in one flesh,'
*
so also in the spiritual marriage between God and the
soul there are two natures in one spirit and love, as we
learn from St. Paul, who made use of the same metaphor,
*
Gen. ii.
24.
[STAN. XXII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I73
saying,
'
He that cleaveth to the Lord is one spirit.'
*
So, when the hght of a star, or of a candle, is united to
that of the sun, the hght is not that of tlie star, nor of
the candle, but of the sun itself, which absorbs all other
light in its own.
4.
It is of this state that the Bridegroom is now
speaking, saying,
'
'
;
that is, out
of all temporal and natural things, out of all spiritual
affections, ways, and methods, having left on one side,
and forgotten, all temptations, trials, sorrows, anxieties
and cares, transformed in this embrace.
'
The pleasant and desirable garden.'
5.
That is, the soul is transformed in God, Who is
here called the pleasant garden because of the delicious
and sweet repose which the soul finds in Him. But the
soul does not enter the garden of perfect transformation,
the glory and the joy of the spiritual marriage, without
passing first through the spiritual betrothal, the mutual
faithful love of the betrothed. When the soul has lived
for some time as the bride of the Son, in perfect and
sweet love, God calls it and leads it into His flourishing
garden for the celebration of the spiritual marriage.
Then the two natures are so united, what is divine
is so communicated to what is human, that, without
*
I Cor. vi.
17.
174
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXII.]
undergoing any essential change, each seems to be
God
yet not perfectly so in this life, though still

in a manner which can neither be described nor
conceived,
6. We learn this truth very clearly from the Bride-
groom Himself in the Canticle, where He invites the
soul, now His bride, to enter this state, saying :
'
I am
come into My garden, O my sister, my bride : I have
gathered My myrrh with My aromatical spices.'
*
He
calls the soul His sister, His bride, for it is such in love
by that surrender which it has made of itself before He
had called it to the state of spiritual marriage, when,
as He says. He gathered His myrrh with His aromatical
spices
;
that is, the fruits of flowers now ripe and made
ready for the soul, which are the delights and grandeurs
communicated to it by Himself in this state, that is
Himself, and for which He is the pleasant and desirable
garden.
7.
The whole aim and desire of the soul and of God,
in all this, is the accomplishment and perfection of this
state, and the soul is therefore never weary till it reaches
it
;
because it finds there a much greater abundance and
fulness in God, a more secure and lasting peace, and a
sweetness incomparably more perfect than in the spiritual
betrothal, seeing that it reposes between the arms of
*
Cant. V. I.
such a Bridegroom, Whose spiritual embraces are so
real that it, through them, lives the life of God. Now
is fulfilled what St. Paul referred to when he said :
'
I
live
;
now not I, but Christ liveth in me.'
*
And now
that the soul lives a life so happy and so glorious as
this life of God, consider what a sweet life it must be
a life where God sees nothing displeasing, and where the

soul finds nothing irksome, but rather the glory and
delight of God in the very substance of itself, now trans-
formed in Him.
*
And there reposes to her heart's content
;
her neck reclining on the sweet arms of the Beloved.'
8. The neck is the soul's strength, by means of
which its union with the Beloved is wrought
;
for
the soul could not endure so close an embrace if it
had not been very strong. And as the soul has
laboured in this strength, practised virtue, overcome
vice, it is fitting that it should rest there from its
labours,
'
her neck reclining on the sweet arms of the
Beloved.'
9.
This reclining of the neck on the arms of God is
the union of the soul's strength, or, rather, of the soul's
weakness, with the strength of God, in Whom our weak-
ness, resting and transformed, puts on the strength of
*
Gal. ii. 20.
176
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXII.]
God Himself. The state of spiritual matrimony is
therefore most fitly designated by the reclining of the
neck on the sweet arms of the Beloved
;
seeing that
God is the strength and sweetness of the soul, Who
guards and defends it from all evil and gives it to taste
of all good.
10. Hence the bride in the Canticle, longing for this
state, saith to the Bridegroom :
'
Who shall give to me
Thee my brother, sucking the breast of my mother,
that I may find Thee without, and kiss Thee, and now
no man may despise me.'
*
By addressing Him as her
Brother she shows the equality between them in the
betrothal of love, before she entered the state of spiritual
marriage.
'
Sucking the breast of my mother
'
signifies
the drying up of the passions and desires, which are the
breasts and milk of our mother Eve in our flesh, which
are a bar to this state. The
'
finding Him without
'
is
to find Him in detachment from all things and from self
when the bride is in solitude, spiritually detached, which
takes place when all the desires are quenched.
'
And
kiss Thee
'
that is, be united with the Bridegroom, alone
with Him alone.
11. This is the union of the nature of the soul, in
solitude, cleansed fromx all impurity, natural, temporal,
and spiritual, with the Bridegroom alone, wdth His
*
Cant. viii. i.
nature, by love onlyof that love which is the only love
of the spiritual marriage, wherein the soul, as it were,
kisses God when none despises it nor makes it afraid.
For in this state the soul is no longer molested, either
by the devil, or the flesh, or the world, or the desires,
seeing that here is fulfilled what is written in the Can-
ticle :
'
Winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
The flowers have appeared in our land.'
*
NOTE
When the soul has been raised to the high state of
spiritual marriage, the Bridegroom reveals to it, as His
faithful consort. His own marvellous secrets most readily
and most frequently, for he who truly and sincerely
loves hides nothing from the object of his affections.
The chief matter of His communications are the sweet
mysteries of His incarnation, the ways and means of
redemption, which is one of the highest works of God,
and so is to the soul one of the sweetest. Though He
communicates many other mysteries. He speaks in the
following stanza of His incarnation only, as being the
chief
;
and thus addresses the soul in the words that
follow :
*
Cant. ii. II, 12.
12
178
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIII.]
STANZA XXIII
Beneath the apple-tree,
There wert thou betrothed,
There I gave thee My hand.
Where thy mother was corrupted.
The Bridegroom tells the soul of the wondrous way of
its redemption and betrothal to Himself, by referring
to the way in which the human race was lost. As it
was by the forbidden tree of paradise that our nature was
corrupted in Adam and lost, so it was by the tree of the
Cross that it was redeemed and restored. The Bridegroom
there stretched forth the hand of His grace and mercy,
in His death and passion,
'
making void the law of
commandments
'
*
which original sin had placed between
us and God.
'
Beneath the apple-tree,'
2. That is the wood of the Cross, where the Son of
God was conqueror, and where He betrothed our human
nature to Himself, and, by consequence, every soul of
man. There, on the Cross, He gave us grace and
pledges of His love.
'
There wert thou betrothed,
there I gave thee My hand.'
*
Eph. ii. 15.
[STAN. XXIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I79
3.
'
Help and grace, lifting thee up out of thy base
and miserable condition to be My companion and My
bride.'
'
where thy mother was corrupted.'
4.
'
Thy mother, human nature, was corrupted in her
first parents beneath the forbidden tree, and thou wert
redeemed beneath the tree of the Cross. If thy mother
at that tree sentenced thee to die, I from the Cross have
given thee life. It is thus that God reveals the order
and dispositions of His wisdom : eliciting good from
evil, and turning that which has its origin in evil to be
an instrument of greater good. This stanza is nearly
word for word what the Bridegroom in the Canticle
saith to the bride :
'
Under the apple-tree I raised thee
up : there thy mother was corrupted
;
there she was
defloured that bare thee.'
*
5.
It is not the betrothal of the Cross that I am
speaking of nowthat takes place, once for all, when
God gives the first grace to the soul in baptism. I am
speaking of the betrothal in the way of perfection,
which is a progressive work. And though both are
but one, yet there is a difference between them. The
latter is effected in the way of the soul, and therefore
*
Cant. viii.
5. _
l8o A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIII.]
slowly
;
the former in the way of God, and therefore
at once.
6. The betrothal of which I am speaking is that of
which God speaks Himself by the mouth of the prophet
Ezechiel, saying :
'
Thou wert cast out upon the face
of the earth in the abjection of thy soul, in the day that
thou wert born. And passing by thee, I saw that thou
wert trodden under foot in thy blood
;
and I said to
thee when thou w^rt in thy blood : Live : I said to thee,
I say
;
in thy blood live. Multiplied as the spring of
the field have I made thee
;
and thou wêrt multiplied
and made great, and thou wentest in, and camest to the
ornaments of women
;
thy breasts swelled and thy
hair budded : and thou wert naked and full of confusion.
And I passed by thee and saw thee, and behold, thy
time, the time of lovers
;
and I spread My garment
over thee, and covered thy ignominy. And I swore to
thee
;
and I entered a covenant with thee, saith the
Lord God ;
and thou wert made Mine. And I washed
thee with water, and made clean thy blood from off
thee : and I anointed thee with oil. And I clothed
thee with divers colours, and shod thee with hyacinth,
and I girded thee with silk and clothed thee with fine
garments. And I adorned thee with ornaments, and
put bracelets on thy hands, and a chain about thy neck.
And I put a jewel upon thy forehead and rings in thy
[STAN. XXIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM l8l
ears, and a crown of beauty on thy head. And thou
wert adorned with gold and silver, and wert clothed
with silk, and embroidered work, and many colours :
thou didst eat fine flour, and honey, and oil, and wert
made beautiful exceedingly, and advanced to be a queen.
And thy name went forth among the nations because
of thy beauty.'
*
These are the words of Ezechiel, and
this is the state of that soul of which I am now speaking.
NOTE
After the mutual surrender to each other of the bride
and the Beloved, comes their bed. Thereon the bride
enters into the joy of Christ. Thus the present stanza
refers to the bed, which is pure and chaste, and divine,
and in which the bride is pure, divine, and chaste. The
bed is nothing else but the Bridegroom Himself, the
Word, the Son of God, in Whom, through the union of
love, the bride reposes. This bed is said to be of flowers,
for the Bridegroom is not only that, but, as He says
Himself of Himself,
'
I am the flower of the field and the
lily of the valleys.'
f
The soul reposes not only on the
bed of flowers, but on that very flower which is the Son
of God, and which contains in itself the divine odour,
fragrance, grace, and beauty, as He saith by the mouth
*
Ezech. xvi.
5-14 |
Cant. ii. i.
l82 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIV.]
of David,
'
With me is the beauty of the field.'
*
The
soul, therefore, in the stanza that follows, celebrates the
properties and beauties of its bed, saying :
STANZA XXIV
THE BRIDE
Our bed is
of flowers,
By dens
of
lions encompassed,
"
Hung with purple.

Made in peace,
And crowned with a thousand shields
of
gold.
In two of the foregoing stanzasthe fourteenth and
the fifteenththe bride-soul celebrated the grace and
magnificence of the Beloved, the Son of God. In the
present stanza she not only pursues the same subject,
but also sings of her high and blessed state, and her own
security in it. She then proceeds to the virtues and
rich gifts with which she is endowed and adorned in the
chamber of the Bridegroom
;
for she says that she is
in union with Him, and is strong in virtue. Next she
says that she has attained to the perfection of love, and
then that she enjoys perfect spiritual peace, endowed
and adorned with gifts and graces, so far as it is possib^.e
to have them in this life. The first subject of the stanza
*
Ps. xlix. II.
[STAN. XXIV,] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 183
is the joy which the bride feels in her union with the
Beloved, saying :
'
Our bed is of flowers.'
2. I have already said that this bed of the soul is
the bosom and love of the Son of God, full of flowers to
the soul, which now united to God and reposing in
Him, as His bride, shares the bosom and love of the
Beloved. That is, the soul is admitted to a knowledge
of the wisdom, secrets and graces, and gifts and powers
of God, whereby it is made so beautiful, so rich, so
abounding in delights that it seems to be lying on a
bed of many-coloured divine flowers, the touch of
which makes it thrill with joy, and the odours of
which refresh it.
3.
This union of love with God is therefore most
appropriately called a bed of flowers, and is so called
by the bride in the Canticle, saying to the Beloved,
'
Our bed is of flowers.'
*
She speaks of it as ours,
because the virtues and the love, one and the same, of
the Beloved are common to both together, and the
de ight of both is one and the same
;
as it is written :
'
My delights were to be with the children of men.'
f
The bed is said to be of flowers, because in this state
the virtues in the soul are perfect and heroic, which
f
Cant. i. 15.
t
Prov. viii.
31.
184
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIV.]
they could not be until the bed had flowered in perfect
union with God.
'
By dens of lions encompassed.'
4.
The dens of lions signify the virtues with which
the soul is endowed in the state of union. The dens of
lions are safe retreats, protected from all other animals,
who, afraid of the boldness and strength of the lion
within, are afraid not only to enter, but even to appear
in sight. So each virtue of the soul in the state of per-
fection is like a den of lions where Christ dwells united
to the soul in that virtue ;
and in every one of them as
a strong lion. The soul also, united to Him in those
very virtues, is as a strong lion, because it then partakes
of the perfections of God.
5.
Thus, then, the perfect soul is so defended, so
strong in virtue, and in all virtues together, reposing
on the flowery bed of its union with God, that the evil
spirits are not only afraid to assault it, but even dare
not appear before it
;
such is their dread of it, when
they behold it strong, courageous, and mature in its
perfect virtues, on the bed of the Beloved. The evil
spirits fear a soul transformed in the union of love as
much as they fear the Beloved Himself, and they dare
not look upon it, for Satan is in great fear of that soul
which has attained to perfection.
[STAN. XXIV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 185
6. The soul's bed is encompassed by virtues : they
are the dens, for when the soul has advanced to perfection,
its virtues are so perfectly ordered, and so joined together
and bound up one with another, each supporting the
other, that no part of it is weak or exposed. Not only
is Satan unable to penetrate within it, but even worldly
things, whether great or little, fail to disturb or annoy
it, or even move it
;
for being now free from all molesta-
tion of natural affections, and a stranger to the worry
of temporal anxieties, it enjoys in security and peace
the participat'on of God.
7.
This is that for which the bride longed when she
'said,
'
Who shall give to me Thee my brother, sucking
the breast of my mother, that I may find Thee without,
and kiss Thee, and now no man may despise me ?
'
*
The
'
kiss
'
here is the union of which I am speaking, whereby
the soul, by love, becomes in a sense the equal of God.
This is the object it des'res when it says,
'
Who shall
give to me Thee my brother ?
'
That means and makes
equality.
'
Sucking the breast of my mother
'
;
that is,
destroying all the imperfections and desires of nature
which the soul inherits from its mother Eve.
'
That I
may find Thee without
'
;
that is,
'
be united to Thee
alone, away from all things, in detachment of the will and
desires.'
'
And now no man may despise me
'
;
that is,
*
Cant. viii. i.
the world, the devil, and the flesh will not venture to
assail it, for being free and purified, and also united to
God, none of these can molest it. Thus, then, the soul
is in the enjoyment now of habitual sweetness and
tranquillity that never fail it.
8. But beside this habitual contentment and peace,
the flowers of the virtues of this garden so open in the
soul and diffuse their odours that it seems to be, and
is, full of the delights of God. I say that the flowers
open ;
because the soul, though filled with the virtues
in perfection, is not always in the actual fruition of
them, notwithstanding its habitual perception of the
peace and tranquillity which they produce. We may
say of these virtues that they are in this life like the
budding flowers of a garden
;
they offer a most beautiful
sightopening under the inspirations of the Holy Ghost
and d ffuse most marvellous perfumes in great variety.
9.
Sometimes the soul will discern in itself the
mountain flowersthe fulness, grandeur, and beauty of
Godintermingled with the lilies of the valleyrest,
refreshment, and defence
;
and again among them, the
fragrant roses of the strange islandsthe strange know-
ledge of God
;
and further, the perfume of the water
lilies of the roaring torrentsthe majesty of God filling
the whole soul. And amid all this, it enjoys the exquisite
fragrance of the jasmine, and the whisper of the amorous
gales, the fruition of which is granted to the soul in
the estate of union, and in the same way all the other
virtues and graces, the calm knowledge, silent music,
murmuring solitude, and the sweet supper of love
;
and
the joy of all this is such as to make the soul say in
truth,
'
Our bed is of flowers, by dens of lions encom-
passed.' Blessed is that soul which in this life deserves
at times to enjoy the perfume of these divine flowers,
'
Hung with purple.'
10, Purple in Holy Scripture means charity, and kings
are clad in it, and for that reason the soul says that the
bed of flowers is hung with purple, because all the virtues,
riches, and blessings of it are sustained, flourish, and
are delighted only in charity and love of the King of
heaven
;
without that love the soul can never delight
in the bed nor in the flowers thereof. All these virtues,
therefore, are, in the soul, as if hung on the love of God,
as on that which preserves them, and they are, as it
were, bathed in love
;
for all and each of them always
make the soul love God, and on all occasions and in
all actions they advance in love to a greater love of
God. That is what is meant by saying that the bed is
hung with purple.
II. This is well expressed in the sacred Canticle :
'
King Solomon hath made himself a litter of the wood
of Libanus : the pillars thereof he hath made of silver,
the seat of gold, the going up of purple
;
the midst he
hath paved with charity.'
*
The virtues and graces
which God lays in the bed of the soul are signified by the
wood of Libanus : the pillars of silver and the seat of
gold are love
;
for, as I have said, the virtues are main-
tained by love, and by the love of God and of the soul
are ordered and bring forth fruit.
'
Made in peace.'
12. This is the fourth excellence of the bed, and
depends on the third, of which I have just spoken. For
the third is perfect charity, the property of which is,
as the Apostle saith, to cast out fear
;
f
hence the perfect
peace of the soul, which is the fourth excellence of this
bed. For the clearer understand'ng of this we must
keep in mind that each virtue is in itself peaceful, gentle,
and strong, and consequently, in the soul which possesses
them, produces peace, gentleness, and fortitude. Now,
as the bed is of flowers, formed of the flowers of virtues,
all of which are peaceful, gentle, and strong, it follows
that the bed is wrought in peace, and the soul is peaceful,
gentle, and strong, which are three qualities unassailable
by the world, Satan, and the flesh. The virtues pre-
serve the soul in such peace and security that it seems
*
Cant. iii.
9,
10.
f
i St. John iv. 18.
to be wholly built up in peace. The fifth property of
this bed of flowers is explained in the following words :
'
Crowned with a thousand shields of gold.'
13. The shields are the virtues and graces of the
soul, which, though they are also the flowers, serve for
its crown, and the reward of the toil by which they are
acquired. They serve also, like strong shields, as a
protection against the vices, which it overcame by the
practice of them
;
and the bridal bed of flowers therefore
that is, the virtues, the crowm and defenceis adorned
with them by way of reward, and protected by them as
with a shield. The shields are said to be of gold,to show
the great worth of the virtues. The bride in the Canticle
sets forth the same truth, saying :
'
Three score valiant
men of the most valiant of Israel surround the little bed
of Solomon, all holding swords
;
. . . every man's sword
upon his thigh, because of fears in the night.'
*
14.
Thus in this stanza the bride speaks of a thousand
shields, to express the variety of the virtues, gifts, and
graces wherewith God has endowed the soul in this state.
The Bridegroom also in the Canticle has employed the
same expression, in order to show forth the innumerable
virtues of the soul, saying :
'
Thy neck is as the tower
of David, which is built with bulwarks
; a thousand
*
Cant. iii.
7,
8,
IQO A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXV.]
shields hang upon it, all the armour of valiant
men.'
*
NOTE
The soul, having attained to perfection, is not satisfied
with magnifying and extolling the excellencies of the
Beloved, the Son of God, nor with recounting and giving
thanks for the graces received at His hands and the joy
into which it has entered, but recounts also the graces
conferred on other souls. In this blessed union of love
the soul is able to contemplate both its own and others'
graces
;
thus praising Him and giving Him thanks for
the many graces bestowed upon others, it sings as in the
following stanza
:
STANZA XXV
In Thy footsteps
The young ones run Thy way
,'
At the touch of
the
fire,
And by the spiced wine,
The divine balsam flows.
Here the bride gives thanks to her Beloved for three
graces which devout souls receive from Him, by which
they encourage and excite themselves to love God more
and more. She speaks of them here because she has
*
Cant. iv.
4.
[STAN. XXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM IQI
had experience of them herself in this state of union.
The first is sweetness, which He gives them, and which
is so efficacious that it makes them run swiftly on the
road of perfection. The second is a visit of love, by
which they are suddenly set on fire with love. The
third is overflowing charity infused into them, with
which He so inebriates them that they are as much
excited by it as by the visit of love, to utter the praises
of God, and to love Him with all sweetness.
'
In Thy footsteps.'
2. These are the marks on the ground by which we
trace the course of one we seek. The sweetness and
knowledge of Himself which God communicates to the
soul that seeks Him are the footsteps by which it traces
and recognises Him. Thus the soul says to the Word,
the Bridegroom,
'
In Thy footsteps
'
' in the traces of
Thy sweetness which Thou diffusest, and the odours
which Thou scatterest.'
'
The young ones run Thy way.'
3.
'
Devout souls run with youthful vigour in the
sweetness which Thy footsteps communicate.' They run
in many ways and in various directionseach according
to the spirit which God bestows, and the vocation He
has givenin the diversified forms of spiritual service
192
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXV.]
on the road of everlasting life, which is evangelical per-
fection, where they meet the Beloved in the union of
love, in spiritual detachment from all things.
4.
This sweetness and impression of Himself which
God leaves in the soul render it light and active in
running after Him
;
for the soul then does little or
nothing in its own strength towards running along this
road, being rather attracted by the divine footsteps, so
that it not only advances, but even runs, as I said before,
in many ways. The bride in the Canticle, therefore,
prays for the divine attraction, saying,
'
Draw me, we
will run after Thee to the odour of Thy ointments
'
;
*
and David saith,
'
I have run the way of Thy command-
ments, when Thou didst dilate my heart.'
f
*
At the touch of the fire, and by the spiced wine,
the divine balsam flows.'
5.
I said, while explaining the previous lines, that
souls run in His footsteps in the way of exterior works.
But the three lines I have just quoted refer to the in-
terior acts of the will, when souls are under the influence
of the other two graces and interior visits of the Beloved.
These are the touch of fire, and spiced wine
;
and the
interior act of the will, which is the result of these visits,
is the flowing of the divine balsam. The contact of the
*
Cant. i.
3.
f
Ps. cxviii."
32.
[STAN. XXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM I93
fire is that most delicate touch of the Beloved which the
soul feels at times even when least expecting it, and
which sets the heart on fire \vith love, as if a spark of
fire had fallen upon it and made it burn. Then the
will, in an instant, like one roused from sleep, burns
with the fire of love, longs for God, praises Him and gives
Him thanks, worships and honours Him, and prays
to Him in the sweetness of love,
6. This is the flowing of the divine balsam, which
obeys the touch of the fire that issues forth from the
consuming love of God which that fire kindled
;
the
divine balsam which comforts the soul and heals it with
its odour and its substance.
7.
The bride in the Canticle speaks of this divine
touch, saying,
'
My Beloved put His hand through the
opening, and my belly trembled at His touch.'
*
The
touch of the Beloved is the touch of love, and His hand
is the grace He bestows upon the soul, and the opening
through which He puts His hand is the vocation and the
perfection, at least the degree of perfection of the soul
;
for according thereto will His touch be heavier or
lighter, in proportion to its spiritual state. The
belly that trembled is the will, in which the touch
is effected, and the trembling is the stirring up of the
desires and âffections to iove, long for, and praise
*
Cant. V.
4.
13
194
God, which is the flowing of the balsam from this
touch.
8,
'
The spiced wine
'
is that exceeding great grace
which God sometimes bestows upon advanced souls,
when the Holy Spirit inebriates them with the sweet,
luscious, and strong wine of love. Hence it is here
called spiced wine, for as such wine is prepared by fermen-
tation with many and divers aromatic and strengthening
herbs
;
so this love, the gift of God to the perfect, is
in the soul prepared and seasoned with the virtues
already acquired. This love, seasoned with the precious
spices, communicates to the soul such a strong, abundant
inebriation when God visits it that it pours forth with
great effect and force those acts of rapturous praise,
love, and worship which I referred to before, and that
with a marvellous longing to labour and to suffer for Him.
9.
This sweet inebriation and grace, however, do not
pass quickly away, like the touch of the fire, for they are
of longer continuance. The fire touches and passes, but
the effects abide often
;
and sometimes the spiced wine
continues for a considerable time, and its effects also
;
this is the sweet love of the soul, and continues occa-
sionally a day or two, sometimes even many days
together, though not always in the same degree of inten-
sity, because it is not in the power of the soul to control
it. Sometimes the soul, without any effort of its own, is
conscious of a most sweet interior inebriation, and of the
divine love burning within, as David saith,
'
My heart
waxed hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall
burn.'
*
10. The outpourings of this inebriation last some-
times as long as the inebriation itself. At other times
there are no outpourings
;
and they are more or less
intense when they occur, in proportion to the greater
or less intensity of the inebriation itself. But the out-
pourings, or effects of the fire, generally last longer
than the fire which caused them
;
yea, rather the fire
leaves them behind in the soul, and they are more vehe-
ment than those which proceed from the inebriation,
for sometimes this divine fire burns up and consumes
the soul in love.
11. As I have mentioned fermented wine, it will be
well to touch briefly upon the difference between it, when
it is old, and new wine
;
the difference between old wine
and new wine is the same, and will furnish a little in-
struction for spiritual men. New wine has not settled
on the lees, and is therefore fermenting ; we cannot
ascertain its quality or worth before it has settled, and
the fermentation has ceased, for until then there is great
risk of its corruption. The taste of it is rough and
sharp, and an immoderate draught of it intoxicates.
*
Ps. xxxviii.
4.
196
Old wine has settled on the lees, and ferments no more
like new wine
;
the quality of it is easily ascertained,
and it is now very safe from corruption, for all fermenta-
tion which might have proved pernicious has entirely
ceased. Well-fermented wine is very rarely spoiled, the
taste of it is pleasant, and its strength is in its own sub-
stance, not in the taste, and the drinking thereof produces
health and a sound constitution.
12. New lovers are compared to new wine
;
these
are beginners in the service of God, because the fervour
of their love manifests itself outwardly in the senses
;
because they have not settled on the lees of sense, frail
and imperfect
;
and because they measure the strength
of love by the sweetness of it, for it is sensible sweetness
that ordinarily gives them their strength for good works,
and it is by this they are influenced
;
we must, therefore,
place no confidence in this love till the fermentation has
subsided, with the coarse satisfaction of sense.
13.
For as these fervours and sensible warmth may
incline men to good and perfect love, and serve as an
excellent means thereto, when the lees of imperfections
are cleared
;
so also is it very easy at first, when sensible
sweetness is fresh, for the wine of love to fail, and the
sweetness of the new to vanish. New lovers are always
anxious, sensibly tormented by their love
;
it is necessary
for them to put some restraint upon themselves, for if
they are very active in the strength of this wine, their
natural powers will be ruined mth these anxieties and
fatigues of the new wine, which is rough and sharp, and
not made sweet in the perfect fermentation, which then
takes place when the anxieties of love are over, as I shall
show immediately.
14.
The Wise Man employs the same illustration
;
saying,
'
A new friend is as new wine
;
it shall grow old,
and thou shalt drink it with pleasure.'
*
Old lovers,
therefore, who have been tried and proved in the service
of the Bridegroom, are like old wine settled on the lees
;
they have no sensible emotions, nor outbursts of exterior
zeal, but they taste the sweetness of the wine of love,
now thoroughly fermented, not sweet to the senses as
was that of the love of beginners, but rather settled
within the soul in the substance and sweetness of the
spirit, and in perfect good works. Such souls as these
do not seek after sensible sweetness and fervours,
neither do they wish for them, lest they should
suffer from loathing and weariness
;
for he who gives
the reins to his desires in matters of sense must of
necessity suffer pain and loathing, both in mind and
body.
15.
Old lovers, therefore, free from that spiritual
sweetness which has its roots in the senses, suffer neither
*
Ecclus. ix. 15.
198
in sense nor spirit from the anxieties of love, and thus
scarcely ever prove faithless to God, because they have
risen above that which might be an occasion of falling,
namely, the flesh. These now drink of the wine of love,
which is not only fermented and free from the lees, but
spiced also with the aromatic herbs of perfect virtues,
which will not allow it to corrupt, as may happen to new
wine.
16. For this cause an old friend is of great price in
the eyes of God :
'
Forsake not an old friend, for the new
will not be like to him.'* It is through this wine of
love, tried and spiced, that the divine Beloved produces
in the soul that divine inebriation, under the influence
of which it sends forth to God the sweet and delicious
outpourings. The meaning of these three lines, there-
fore, is as follows :
'
At the touch of the fire, by which
Thou stirrest up the soul, and by the spiced wine with
which Thou dost so lovingly inebriate it, the soul pours
forth the acts and movements of love which are Thy
work within it.'
NOTE
Such, then, is the state of the blessed soul in the bed
of flowers, where all these blessings, and many more,
*
Ecclus. ix. 14.
[STAN. XXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM IQQ
are granted it. The seat of that bed is the Son of God,
and the hangings of it are the charity and love of the
Bridegroom Himself. The soul now may say, with
the bride,
'
His left hand is under my head,'* and we
may therefore say, in truth, that such a soul is clothed
in God, and bathed in the Divinity, and that, not as
it were on the surface, but in the interior spirit, and
filled with the divine delights in the abundance of the
spiritual waters of life
;
for it experiences that which
David says of those who have drawn near unto God :
'
They shall be inebriated with the plenty of Thy
house, and Thou shalt make them drink of the torrent
of Thy pleasure, for with Thee is the fountain of
life.'t
2. This fulness will be in the very being of the soul,
seeing that its drink is nothing else but the torrent of
delights, and that torrent the Holy Spirit, as it is written :
'
And he showed me a river of living water, clear as
crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and the
Lamb.
'J
This water, being the very love itself of God,
flows into the soul, so that it drinks of the torrent of
love, which is the spirit of the Bridegroom infused into
the soul in union. Thence the soul in the overflowing
of its love sings the following stanza :
*
Cant. ii. 6.
f
Ps. xxxv.
9.
J
Apoc. xxii. J,
200 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVI.]
STANZA XXVI
lit the inner cellar
Of
my Beloved have I drunk ; and ivhen I went foyth
Over all the plain
I knew nothing,
And lost the flock I followed before.
Here the soul speaks of that sovereign grace of God
in taking it to Himself into the house of His love, which
is the union, or transformation of love in God. It
describes two effects proceeding therefrom : forgetfulness
of, and detachment from, all the things of this world,
and the mortification of its tastes and desires.
'
In the inner cellar.'
2. In order to explain in any degree the meaning of
this, I have need of the special help of the Holy Ghost
to direct my hand and guide my pen. The cellar is the
highest degree of love to which the soul may attain in
this life, and is therefore said to be the inner. It follows
from this that there are other cellars not so interior
;
that is, the degrees of love by which souls reach this,
the last. These cellars are seven in number, and the
soul has entered into them all when it has in perfection
the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, so far as it is possible
for it. When the soul has the spirit of fear in perfection,
it has in perfection also the spirit of love, inasmuch as
[STAN. XXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 201
this fear, the last of the seven gifts, is fihal fear, and
the perfect fear of a son proceeds from his perfect love
of his father. Thus when the Holy Scripture speaks of
one as having perfect charity, it says of him that he
fears God. So the prophet Isaias, announcing the
perfections of Christ, saith of Him,
'
The spirit of the
fear of the Lord shall replenish him.'* Holy Simeon
also is spoken of by the Evangelist as a
'
just man full
of fear,'! ^-^d the same applies to many others.
3.
Many souls reach and enter the first cellar, each
according to the perfection of its love, but the last and
inmost cellar is entered by few in this world, because
therein is wrought the perfect union with God, the
union of the spiritual marriage, of which the soul is
now speaking. What God communicates to the soul
in this intimate union is utterly ineffable, beyond the
reach of all possible words
just as it is impossible to
speak of God Himself so as to convey any idea of what
He isbecause it is God Himself who communicates
Himself to the soul now in the marvellous bliss of its
transformation. In this state God and the soul are
united, as the window is with the light, or coal with the
fire, or the light of the stars with that of the sun, yet,
however, not so essentially and completely as it will
be in the life to come. The soul, therefore, to show
*
Isa. xi.
3.
f
St. Luke ii. 25. Justus et timoratus.
202 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN, XXVI.]
what it veceived from the hands of God in the cellar of
wine, says nothing else, and I do not believe that anything
could be said but the words which follow :
'
Of my Beloved have I drunk.'
4.
As a draught diffuses itself through all the members
and veins of the body, so this communication of God
diffuses itself substantially in the whole soul, or rather,
the soul is transformed in God. In this transformation
the soul drinks of God in its very substance and its
spiritual powers. In the understanding it drinks wisdom
and knowledge, in the will the sweetest love, in the
memory refreshment and delight in the thought and
sense of its bliss. That the soul receives and drinks
delight in its very substance, appears from the words
of the bride in the Canticle :
'
My soul melted as He
spoke
'*
that is, when the Bridegroom communicated
Himself to the soul.
5.
That the understanding drinks wisdom is evident
from the words of the bride longing and praying for
the kiss of union :
'
There Thou shaft teach me, and
I will give thee a cup of spiced wine.'t
'
Thou shaft
teach me wisdom and knowledge in love, and I will
give Thee a cup of spiced winethat is, my love mingled
with Thine.' The bride says that the will also drinks
*
Cant. V. 6.
f
lb. viii. 2.
of love, saying :
'
He brought me into the cellar of wine
;
He hath ordered in me charity,'*that is,
'
He gave
me His love, embracing me, to drink of love '
;
or, to
speak more clearly,
'
He ordered in me His charity,
tempering His charity and to the purpose making it
mine.' This is to give the soul to drink of the very
love of its Beloved, which the Beloved infuses into it.
6. There is a common saying that the will cannot
love that of which the understanding has no knowledge.
This, however, is to be understood in the order of nature,
it being impossible, in a natural way, to love anything
unless we first know what it is we love. But in a super-
natural way God can certainly infuse love and increase
it without infusing and increasing distinct knowledge,
as is evident from the texts already quoted. Yea,
many spiritual persons have experience of this
;
their
love of God burns more and more, while their know-
ledge does not grow. Men may know little and love
much, and on the other hand, know much and love
but Httle.
7.
In general, those spiritual persons whose knowledge
of God is not very great are usually very rich in all
that belongs to the will, and infused faith suffices them
for this knowledge, by means of which God infuses
and increases charity in them and the acts thereof,
*
Cant. ii.
4.
204
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVI.]
which are to love Him more and more though knowledge
is not increased. Thus the will may drink of love while
the understanding drinks in no fresh knowledge. In
the present instance, however, all the powers of the
soul together, because of the union in the inner cellar,
drink of the Beloved.
8. As to the memory, it is clear that the soul drinks
of the Beloved in it, because it is enlightened with the
light of the understanding in remembering the blessings
it possesses and enjoys in union with the Beloved.
'
And when I went forth,'
9.
That is, after this grace ;
the divine draught
having so deified the soul, exalted it, and inebriated it
in God. Though the soul be always in the high estate
of marriage ever since God has placed it there, never-
theless actual union in all its powers is not continuous,
though the substantial union is. In this substantial
union the powers of the soul are most frequently in
union, and drink of His cellar, the understanding by
knowledge, the will by love, etc. We are not, therefore,
to suppose that the soul, when saying that it went out,
has ceased from its substantial or essential union with
God, but only from the union of its faculties, which is
not, and cannot be, permanent in this life
;
it is from
this union, then, it went forth when it wandered over
all the plainthat is, through the whole breadth of
the world.
'
I knew nothing.'
10. This draught of God's most deep wisdom makes
the soul forget all the things of this world, and consider
all its previous knowledge, and the knowledge of the
whole world besides, as pure ignorance in comparison
with this knowledge.
11. For a clearer understanding of this, we must
remember that the most regular cause of the soul's
ignoring the things of the world, when it has ascended
to this high state, is that it is informed by a supernatural
knowledge, in the presence of which all natural and
worldly knowledge is ignorance rather than knowledge.
For the soul in possession of this knowledge, which is
most profound, learns from it that all other knowledge
not included in this knowledge is not knowledge, but
ignorance, and worthless. We have this truth in the
words of the Apostle when he said that
'
the wisdom of
this world is foolishness with God.'
*
12. This is the reason why the soul says it knows
nothing, now that it has drunk of the divine wisdom.
The truth is that the wisdom of men and of the whole
world is mere ignorance, and not deserving any attention,
*
I Cor. iii. ig.
but it is a truth that can be learned only in that truth
of the presence of God in the soul communicating to it
His wisdom and making it strong by this draught of
love that it may see it distinctly. This is taught us
by Solomon, saying :
'
The vision that the man
spake, with whom God is, and who being strengthened
by God abiding with him, said : I am the most
foolish of men, and the wisdom of men is not with
me.'*
13.
When the soul is raised to this high wisdom
of God, the wisdom of man is in its eyes the lowest
ignorance : all natural science and the works of God,
if accompanied by ignorance of Him, are as ignorance
;
for where He is not known, there nothing is known.
'
The deep things of God are foolishness to men.'t Thus
the divinely wise and the worldly wise are fools in the
estimation of each other
;
for the latter cannot under-
stand the wisdom and science of God, nor the former
those of the world, for the wisdom of the world is
ignorance in comparison with the wisdom of God
;
and
the wisdom of God is ignorance with respect to that
of the world.
14.
Moreover, this deification and elevation of the
spirit in God, whereby the soul is, as it were, rapt and
absorbed in love, one with God, suffer it not to dwell
*
Prov. XXX. I, 2.
]
I Cor. ii.
14.
[STAN. XXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 20/
upon any worldly matter. The soul is now detached,
not only from all outward things, but even from itself :
it is, as it were, undone, assumed by, and dissolved in,
lovethat is, it passes out of itself into the Beloved.
Thus the bride, in the Canticle, after speaking of her
own transformation by love into the Beloved, expresses
her state of ignorance by the words
'
I knew not.'* The
soul is now, in a certain sense, like Adam in paradise,
who knew no evil. It is so innocent that it sees no evil
;
neither does it consider anything to be amiss. It will
hear much that is evil, and will see it with its eyes,
and yet it shall not be able to understand it, because it
has no evil habits whereby to judge of it. God has
rooted out of it those imperfect habits and that ignorance
resulting from the evil of sin, by the perfect habit of
true wisdom. Thus, also, the soul knows nothing on
this subject.
15. Such a soul will scarcely intermeddle with the
affairs of others, because it forgets even its own
;
for
the work of the Spirit of God in the soul in which He
dwells is to incline it to ignore those things which do
not concern it, especially such as do not minister to
edification. The Spirit of God abides within the soul
to withdraw it from outward things rather than to
lead it among them
;
and thus the soul knows nothing
*
Cant. vi. 11.
208
"
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVI.]
as it knew it formerly. We are not, however, to suppose
that it loses the habits of knowledge previously acquired,
for those habits are improved by the more perfect habit
of supernatural knowledge infused, though these habits
be not so powerful as to necessitate knowledge through
them, and yet there is no reason why they should not
do so occasionally.
i6. In this union of the divine wisdom these habits
are united with the higher wisdom of other knowledge,
as a little light with another which is great
;
it is the
great light that shines, overwhelming the less, yet the
latter is not therefore lost, but rather perfected, though
it be not the light which shines pre-eminently. Thus,
I imagine, will it be in heaven
;
the acquired habits of
knowledge in the just \\i\\ not be destroyed, though they
will be of no great importance there, seeing that the
just will know more in the divine wisdom than by the
habits acquired on earth.
17.
But the particular notions and forms of things,
acts of the imagination, and every other apprehension
having form and figure are all lost and ignored in this
absorbing love, and this for two reasons. First, the soul
cannot actually attend to anything of the kind, because
it is actually absorbed by this draught of love. Secondly,
and this is the principal reason, its transformation in
God so conforms it to His purity and simplicityfor there
[STAN. XXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 20g
is no form or imaginary figure in Himas to render it
pure, cleansed, and empty of all the forms and figures
it entertained before, being now purified and enlightened
in simple contemplation. All spots and stains in the
glass become invisible when the sun shines upon it, but
they appear again as soon as the light of the sun is with-
held.
i8. So is it with the soul ; while the effects of this
act of love continue, this ignorance continues also, so
that it cannot observe anything in particular until these
effects have ceased. Love has set the soul on fire and
transmuted it into love, has annihilated it and destroyed
it as to all that is not love, according to the words of
David :
'
My heart hath been inflamed, and my reins
have been changed
;
and I am brought to nothing, and I
knew not.'
*
The changing of the reins, because the
heart is inflamed, is the changing of the soul, in all its
desires and actions, in God, into a new manner of life,
the utter undoing and annihilation of the old man, and
therefore the prophet said that he was brought to nothing
and knew not.
19.
These are the two effects of drinking the wine of
the cellar of God
;
not only is all previous knowledge
brought to nothing and made to vanish, but the old life
also with its imperfections is destroyed, and into the new
*
Ps. Ixxii. 21, 22,
14
man renewed ; this is the second of the two effects
described in the words that follow :
'
And lost the flock I followed before.'
20. Until the soul reaches the state of perfection,
however spiritual it may be, there always remains a troop
of desires, likings, and other imperfections, sometimes
natural, sometimes spiritual, after which it runs, and
which it tries to feed while following and satisfying them.
With regard to the understanding, there are certain
imperfections of the desire of knowledge. With regard
to the will, certain likings and peculiar desires, at times
in temporal things, as the wish to possess certain trifles,
and attachment to some things more than to others,
certain prejudices, considerations, and punctilios, with
other vanities, still savouring of the world : and again in
natural things, such as eating and drinking, the pre-
ference of one kind of food over another, and the choice
of the best : at another time, in spiritual things, such as
seeking for sweetness, and other follies of spiritual persons
not yet perfect, too numerous to recount here. As to
the memory, there are many inconsistencies, anxieties,
unseemly reminiscences, which drag the soul captive
after them.
21. The four passions of the soul also involve it in
many useless hopes, joys, griefs, and fears, after which it
[STAN XXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 211
runs. As to this flock, some men are more influenced by
it than others
;
they run after and follow it, until they
enter the inner cellar, where they lose it altogether, being
then transformed in love. In that cellar the flock of
imperfections is easily destroyed, as rust and mould on
metal in the fire. Then the soul feels itself free from
the pettiness of self-likings and the vanities after which
it ran before, and may well say,
'
I have lost the flock
which I followed before,"
NOTE
God communicates Himself to the soul in this interior
union with a love so intense that the love of a mother,
who so tenderly caresses her child, the love of a brother,
or the affection of a friend bear no likeness to it, for so
great is the tenderness, and so deep is the love with
which the Infinite Father comforts and exalts the humble
and loving soul. O wonders worthy of all awe and
reverence ! He humbles Himself in reality before that
soul that He may exalt it, as if He were its servant, and
the soul His lord. He is as anxious to comfort it as if
He were a slave, and the soul God. So great is the
humility and tenderness of God. In this communion of
love He renders in a certain way those services to the
soul which He says in the Gospel He wiU perform for the
elect in heaven.
'
Amen, I say to you, that He will gird
Himself and make them sit down to meat, and passing
will minister unto them.'
*
2. This very service He renders now to the soul,
comforting and cherishing it, as a mother her child whom
she nurtures in her bosom. And the soul recognises
herein the truth of the words of Isaias,
'
You shall be
carried at the breasts, and upon the knees they shall
caress you.'
t
What must the feelings of the soul be
amid these sovereign graces ? How it will melt away
in love, beholding the bosom of God opened for it with
such overflowing love. When the soul perceives itself
in the midst of these delights, it surrenders itself wholly
to God, gives to Him the breasts of its own will and love,
and under the influence thereof addresses the Beloved
in the words of the bride in the Canticle, saying :
'
I to
my Beloved, and His turning is towards me. Come,
my Beloved, let us go forth into the field, let us abide in
the villages. Let us rise early to the vineyards, let us
see if the vineyard flourish, if the flowers be ready to
bring forth fruits, if the pomegranates flourish
;
there
will I give Thee my breasts
'
%
that is,
'
I will employ all
the joy and strength of my will in the service of Thy
love.' This mutual surrender in this union of the Soul
and God is the subject of the stanza which follows :
*
St. Luke xii.
37.
t
Isa. Lxvi. 12.
J
Cant. vii. 10-12.
[STAN. XXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 213
STANZA XXVII
There He gave me His breasts,
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.
And there I gave to Him
Myself without reserve
;
There I promised to he His bride.
Here the soul speaks of the two contracting parties in
this spiritual betrothal, itself and God. In the inner
cellar of love they both met together, God giving to the
soul the breasts of His love freely, whereby He instructs
it in His mysteries and ^visdom, and the soul also actually
surrendering itself, making no reservation whatever
either in its own favour or in that of others, promising to
be His for ever.
'
There He gave me His breasts.'
2. To give the breast to another is to love and cherish
him and communicate one's secrets to him as a friend.
The soul says here that God gave it His breaststhat
is. He gave it His love and communicated His secrets
to it. It is thus that God deals with the soul in this
state, and more, too, as it appears from the words that
follow
:
'
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.'
3.
This science is mystical theology, which is the
214 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVII.]
secret science of God, and which spiritual men call con-
templation. It is most full of sweetness because it is
knowledge by love, love is the master of it, and it is love
that renders it all so sweet. Inasmuch as this science
and knowledge are communicated to the soul in that love
with which God communicates Himself, it is sweet to the
understanding, because knowledge belongs to it, and
sweet to the ^\dll, because it comes by love which belongs
to the will.
'
There I gave to Him myself without reserve.'
4.
The soul in this sweet draught of God, surrenders
itself wholly to Him most wdllingly and wdth great sweet-
ness ;
it desires to be wholly His, and never to retain
anything which is unbecoming His Majesty. God is
the author of this union, and of the purity and perfection
requisite for it
;
and as the transformation of the soul
in Himself makes it His, He empties it of all that is alien
to Himself. Thus it comes to pass that, not in vAW only,
but in act as well, the whole soul is entirely given to God
vdthout any reserve whatever, as God has given Himself
freely unto it. The will of God and of the soul are both
satisfied, each given up to the other, in mutual dehght,
so that neither fails the other in the faith and constancy
of the betrothal ; therefore the soul says :
*
There I promised to be His bride.'
[STAN. XXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 2I5
5.
As a bride does not give her love to another, and
as all her thoughts and actions are directed to her bride-
groom only, so the soul now has no affections of the will,
no acts of the understanding, neither object nor occupa-
tion of any kind which it does not wholly refer unto God,
together with all its desires. The soul is, as it were,
absorbed in God, and even its first movements have
nothing in themso far as it can comprehend them
which is at variance with the will of God. The first

movements of an imperfect soul in general are, at least,
inclined to evil, in the understanding, the memory, the
will, the desires and imperfections ;
but those of the soul
which has attained to the spiritual state of which I am
speaking are ordinarily directed to God, because of the
great help and courage it derives from Him, and its
perfect conversion to goodness. This is set forth wdth
great clearness by David, when he saith :
'
Shall not my
soul be subject to God ? For from Him is my salvation.
For He is my God and my Saviour ;
He is my protector,
I shall be moved no more.'
*
'
He is my protector
'
means that the soul, being now received under the pro-
tection of God and united to Him, is no longer subject
to any movements contrary to God.
6. It is quite clear from this that the soul which has
Lttained the spiritual betrothal knows nothing else but
=*
Ps. Ixi. 2, 3.
2l6 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVII.]
the love of the Bridegroom and the deHghts thereof,
because it has arrived at perfection, the form and sub-
stance of which is love, according to St. Paul.* The
more a soul loves, the more perfect it is in its love, and
hence it follows that the soul which is already perfect
is, if we may say so, all love, all its actions are love, all
its energies and strength are occupied in love. It gives up
all it has, like the wise merchant,! for this treasure of love
which it finds hidden in God, and which is so precious in
His sight, and the Beloved cares for nothing else but
love
;
the soul, therefore, anxious to please Him perfectly,
occupies itself wholly in pure love for God, not only
because love does so occupy it, but also because the love
wherein it is united influences it towards love of God in
and through all things. As the bee draws honey from
all plants, and makes use of them only for that end, so
the soul most easily draws the sweetness of love from all
that happens to it ; makes all things subserve it towards
loving God, whether they be sweet or bitter
; and being
animated and protected by love, has no sense, feeling,
or knowledge, because, as I have said, it knows nothing
but love, and in all its occupations, its joy is its
love of God. This is explained by the following
stanza.
*
Col. iii.
14.
t
St. Matt. xiii.
44.
[STAN. XXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 217
NOTE
I HAVE said that God is pleased with nothing but love
;
but before I explain this, it will be as well to set forth
the grounds on which the assertion rests. All our
works, and all our labours, how grand soever they may
be, are nothing in the sight of God, for we can give Him
nothing, neither can we by them fulfil His desire, which
is the growth of our soul. As to Himself He desires
nothing of this, for He has need of nothing, and so, if He
is pleased with anything it is udth the growth of the
soul ; and as there is no way in which the soul can grow
but in becoming in a manner equal to Him, for this
reason only is He pleased mth our love. It is the pro-
perty of love to place him who loves on an equality with
the object of his love. Hence the soul, because of its
perfect love, is called the bride of the Son of God, which
signifies equality with Him. In this equality and friend-
ship all things are common, as the Bridegroom Himself
said to His disciples :
'
I have called you friends, because
all things, whatsoever I have heard of my Father, I have
made known to you.'
*
*
St. John XV. 15.
2l8 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVIII.j
STANZA XXVIII
My soul is occupied,
And all my substance in His service
;
Now I guard no flock,
Nor have I any other employment :
My sole occupation is love.
The soul, or rather the bride, having given herself wholly
to the Bridegroom without any reserve whatever, now
recounts to the Beloved how she fulfils her task.
'
My
soul and body,' she says,
'
all my abilities and all my
capacities, are occupied not with other matters, but
with those pertaining to the service of the Bridegroom.'
She is therefore not seeking her o\\ti proper satisfaction,
nor the gratification of her owti inclinations, neither
does she occupy herself in anything whatever which is
alien to God
;
yea, even her communion with God Him-
self is nothing else but acts of love, inasmuch as she has
changed her former mode of conversing with Him into
loving.
'
My soul IS occupied.'
2. This refers to the soul's surrender of itself to the
Beloved in this union of love, wherein it devotes itself,
^^^th all its faculties, understanding, will, and memory,
to His service. The understanding is occupied in con-
sidering what most tends to His service, in order that it
might be accomplished ;
the will, in loving all that is
[STAN. XXVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 219
pleasing to God, and in desiring Him in all things
;
the
memory, in recalling what ministers to Him, and what
may be more pleasing unto Him.
'
And all my substance in His service.'
3.
By substance here is meant all that relates to the
sensual part of the soul, which includes the body, with
all its powers, interior and exterior, together with all its
natural capacitiesthat is, the four passions, the natural
desires, and the whole substance of the soul, all of which
is employed in the service of the Beloved, as well as the
rational and spiritual part, as I explained in the previous
section. As to the body, that is now ordered according
to God in all its interior and exterior senses, all the acts
of which are directed to God
;
the four passions of the
soul are also under control in Him
;
for the soul's joy,
hope, fear, and grief are conversant with God only
;
all
its appetites, and all its anxieties also, are directed unto
Him only.
4.
The whole substance of the soul is now so occupied
with God, so intent upon Him, that its very first move-
ments, even inadvertently, have God for their object and
their end. The understanding, memory, and will tend
directly to God ; the affections, senses, desires, and
longings, hope and joy, the whole substance of the soul,
rise instantly towards God, though the soul is making no
220 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVIII.]
conscious efforts in that direction. Such a soul is very
often doing the worl<: of God, intent upon Him and the
things of God, without thinking or reflecting on what
it is doing for Him. The constant and habitual practice
of this has deprived it of all conscious reflection, and
even of that fervour which it usually had when it began
to act. The whole substance of the soul being thus
occupied, what follows cannot be but true also.
'
Now I guard no flock.'
5.
'
I do not now go after my likings and desires
;
for
having fixed them upon God, I no longer feed or guard
them.' The soul not
onty
does not guard them now,
but has no other occupation than to wait upon God.
'
Nor have I any other employment.'
6. Before the soul succeeded in effecting this gift and
surrender of itself, and of all that belongs to it, to the
Beloved, it was entangled in many unprofitable occupa-
tions, b}' which it sought to please itself and others, and
it may be said that its occupations of this kind were
as many as its habits of imperfection.
7.
To these habits belong that of speaking, thinking,
and the doing of things that are useless
;
and likewise,
the not making use of these things according to the
requirements of the soul's perfection
;
other desires also
the soul may have, wherewith it ministers to the desires
of others, to which may be referred display, compli-
ments, flattery, human respect, aiming at being well
thought of, and the giving pleasure to people, and other
useless actions, by which it laboured to content them,
wasting its efforts herein, and finally all its strength. All
this is over, says the soul here, for all its words, thoughts,
and works are directed to God, and, conversant with Him,
freed from their previous imperfections. It is as if it
said :
'
I follow no longer either my o\vn or other men's
likings, neither do I occupy or entertain myself with
useless pastimes, or the things of this world.'
'
My sole occupation is love.'
8.
'
All my occupation now is the practice of the
love of God, all the powers of soul and body, memory,
understanding, and will, interior and exterior senses, the
desires of spirit and of sense, all work in and by love.
All I do is done in love
;
all I suffer, I suffer in the sweet-
ness of love.' This is the meaning of David when he
said,
'
I will keep my strength to Thee.'
*
9.
When the soul has arrived at this state all the
acts of its spiritual and sensual nature, whether active
or passive, and of whatever kind they may be, always
occasion an increase of love and delight in God : even
*
Ps. Iviii. 10.
222 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVIII.]
the act of prayer and communion with God, which was
once carried on by reflections and divers other methods,
is now whohy an act of love. So much so is this the
case that the soul may always say, whether occupied
with temporal or spiritual things,
*
My sole occupation
is love.' Happy life ! happy state ! and happy the soul
which has attained to it ! where all is the very substance
of love, the joyous delights of the betrothal, when it may
truly say to the Beloved with the bride in the Canticle,
'
The new and the old, my Beloved, have I kept for
Thee.'
*
'All that is bitter and painful I keep for Thy
sake, all that is sweet and pleasant I keep for Thee.'
The meaning of the words, for my purpose, is that the
soul, in the state of spiritual betrothal, is for the most
part living in the union of lovethat is, the will is
habitually waiting lovingly on God.
NOTE
Of a truth the soul is now lost to all things, and gained
only to love, and the mind is no longer occupied with
anything else. It is, therefore, deficient in what con-
cerns the active hfe, and other exterior duties, that it
may apply in earnest to the one thing which the Bride-
groom has
pronounced necessary
;
f
and that is waiting
*
Cant. vii.
13.
f
St. Luke x.
42.
upon God, and the continuous practice of His love. So
precious is this in the eyes of God that He rebuked
Martha because she would withdraw Mary from His
feet to occupy her actively in the service of our Lord.
Martha thought that she was doing everything herself,
and that Mary at the feet of Christ was doing nothing.
But it was far otherwise : for there is nothing better or
more necessary than love. Thus, in the Canticle, the
Bridegroom protects the bride, adjuring the daughters
of Jerusalemthat is, all created thingsnot to disturb
her spiritual sleep of love, nor to waken her, nor to let her
open her eyes to anything till she pleased.
'
I adjure
you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor
awake my beloved till she please.'
*
2. Observe, however, that if the soul has not reached
the state of unitive love, it is necessary for it to make
acts of love, as well in the active as in the contemplative
life. But when it has reached it, it is not requisite it
should occupy itself in other and exterior dutiesunless
they be matters of obligationwhich might hinder, were
it but for a moment, the life of love in God, though they
may minister greatly to His service
;
because an instant
of pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the
soul, and more profitable to the Church, than all other
good works together, though it may seem as if nothing
*
Cant. iii.
5.
224
-"^ SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXVIII.]
were done. Thus, Mary Magdalene, though her preach-
ing was most edifying, and might have been still more
so afterwards, out of the great desire she had to please
God and benefit the Church, hid herself, nevertheless,
in the desert thirty years, that she might surrender her-
self entirely to love
;
for she considered that she would
gain more in that way, because an instant of pure love
is so much more profitable and important to the Church.
3.
When the soul, then, in any degree possesses the
spirit of solitary love, we must not interfere with it.
We should inflict a grievous wrong upon it, and upon
the Church also, if we were to occupy it, were it only for
a moment, in exterior or active duties, however im-
portant they might be. When God Himself adjures all
not to waken it from its love, who shall ventm"e to do
so, and be blameless ? In a word, it is for this love that
we are all created. Let those men of zeal, who think
by their preaching and exterior works to convert the
world, consider that they would be much more edifying
to the Church, and more pleasing unto Godsetting
aside the good example they would giveif they would
spend at least one half their time in prayer, even though
they may have not attained to the state of unitive love.
Certainly they would do more, and with less trouble, by
one single good work than by a thousand : because of
the merit of their prayer, and the spiritual strength it
[STAN. XXIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 225
supplies. To act otherwise is to beat the air, to do
Httle more than nothing, sometimes nothing and occa-
sionally even mischief
;
for God may give up such persons
to vanity, so that they may seem to have done some-
thing, when in reality their outward occupations bear no
fruit ; for it is quite certain that good works cannot be
done but in the power of God. O how much might be
written on this subject ! this, however, is not the place
for it.
4.
I have said this to explain the stanza that follows,
in which the soul replies to those who call in question its
holy tranquillity, who will have it wholly occupied with
outward duties, that its light may shine before the world :
these persons have no conception of the fibres and the
unseen root whence the sap is drawn, and which nourish
the fruit.
STANZA XXIX
// then on the common land
I am no longer seen or found,
You will say that I am lost
;
That being enamoured,
I lost myself ; and yet was found.
The soul replies here to a tacit reproach. Worldly
people are in the habit of censuring those who give them-
selves up in earnest to God, regarding them as extrava-
gant, in their withdrawal from the world, and in their
15
226 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIX.]
manner of life. They say also of them that they are
useless for all matters of importance, and lost to every-
thing the world prizes and respects ! This reproach the
soul meets in the best way
;
boldly and courageously
despising it with everything else that the world can lay
to its charge. Having attained to a living love of God,
it makes little account of all this ; and that is not all
:
it confesses it itself in this stanza, and boasts that it has
committed that folly, and that it is lost to the world and
to itself for the Beloved.
2. That which the soul is saying here, addressing
itself to the world, is in substance this :
'
If you see
me no longer occupied with the subjects that engrossed
me once, with the other pastimes of the world, say and
believe that I am lost to them, and a stranger to them,
yea, that I am lost of my own choice, seeking my Beloved
whom I so greatly love.' But that they may see that
the soul's loss is gain, and not consider it folly and de-
lusion, it adds that its loss was gain, and that it therefore
lost itself deliberately.
'
If then on the common I am no longer seen or found.
3.
The common is a public place where people
assemble for recreation, and where shepherds feed their
flocks. By the common here is meant the world in
general, where men amuse themselves and feed the herd
of their desires. The soul says to the worldly-minded :
'
If you see me no more where I used to be before I gave
myself up wholly to God, look upon me as lost, and say
so
'
: the soul rejoices in that and would have men so
speak of it.
'
Say that I am lost.'
4.
He who loves is not ashamed before men of what
he does for God, neither does he hide it through shame
though the whole world should condemn it. He who
shall be ashamed to confess the Son of God before men,
neglecting to do His work, the Son of God also will be
ashamed to acknowledge him before His Father.
'
He
that shall deny Me before men, I will also deny him
before My Father Who is in heaven.'
*
The soul,
therefore, in the courage of its love, glories in what
ministers to the honour of the Beloved, in that it has
done anything for Him and is lost to the things of the
world.
5.
But few spiritual persons arrive at this perfect
courage and resolution in their conduct. For though
some attempt to practise it, and some even think them-
selves proficients therein, they never entirely lose
themselves on certain points connected with the world
or self, so as to be perfectly detached for the sake of
*
St. Matt. X. 33-
228 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIX.]
Christ, despising appearances and the opinion of the
world. These can never answer,
'
Say that I am lost,'
because they are not lost to themselves, and are
still ashamed to confess Christ before men through
human respect ; these do not therefore really live
in Christ.
'
That being enamoured,'
That is, practising virtues for the love of God,
'
I lost m3^self
;
and yet was found.'
6. The soul remembers well the words of the Bride-
groom in the Gospel :
'
No man can serve two masters
;
for either he will hate the one and love the other,'
*
and therefore, in order not to lose God, loses all that is
not God, that is, all created things, even itself, being
lost to all things for the love of Him. He who truly
loves makes shipwreck of himself in all else that he
may gain the more in the object of his love. Thus the
soul says that it has lost itselfthat is, deliberately, of
set purpose.
7,
This loss occurs in two ways. The soul loses
itself, making no account whatever of itself, but of the
Beloved, resigning itself freely into His hands without
any selfish views, losing itself deliberately, and seeking
*
St. Matt. vi.
24.
nothing for itself. Secondly, it loses itself in all things,
making no account of anything save that which concerns
the Beloved. This is to lose oneselfthat is, to be willing
that others should have all things. Such is he that
loves God ;
he seeks neither gain nor reward, but only
to lose all, even himself, according to God's will ; this
is what such an one counts gain. This is real gain, for
the Apostle saith,
'
to die is gain
' *
that is, to die for
Christ is my gain and profit spiritually. This is why
the soul says that it
'
was found
'
;
for he who knows
not how to lose, finds not, but rather loses himself, as
our Saviour teaches us in the Gospel, saying,
'
He that
will save his life shall lose it
;
and he that shall lose his
life for My sake shall find it.'
f
8. But if we wish to know the deeper spiritual meaning
of this line, and its peculiar fitness here, it is as follows :
When a soul has advanced so far on the spiritual road
as to be lost to all the natural methods of communing
with God
;
when it seeks Him no longer by meditation,
images, impressions, nor by any other created ways,
or representations of sense, but only by rising above
them all, in he joyful communion with Him by faith
and love, then it may be said to have found God of
a truth, because it has truly lost itself as to all that
is not God, and also as to its own self.
*
Phil. i. 21.
t
St. Matt. xvi.
25.
230
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXIX.]
NOTE
The soul being thus gained, all its works are gain, for
all its powers are exerted in the spiritual intercourse of
most sweet interior love with the Beloved. The interior
communications between God and the soul are now so
delicious, so full of sweetness, that no mortal tongue can
describe them, nor human understanding comprehend
them. As a bride on the day of her betrothal attends
to nothing but to the joyous festival of her love, and
brings forth all her jewels and ornaments for the pleasure
of the bridegroom, and as he too in the same way exhibits
his own magnificence and riches for the pleasure of his
bride, so is it in the spiritual betrothal where the soul
feels that which the bride says in the Canticle,
'
I to
my Beloved and my Beloved to me.'
*
The virtues
and graces of the bride-soul, the grandeur and magni-
ficence of the Bridegroom, the Son of God, come forth
into the light, for the celebration of the bridal feast,
communicating each to the other the goods and joys
with the wine of sweet love in the Holy Ghost. The
present stanza, addressed to the Bridegroom by the soul,
has this for its subject.
*
Cant. vi. 2.
[STAN. XXX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 23I
STANZA XXX
Of
emeralds, and
of
flowers.
In the early morning gathered.
We will make the garlands,
Flowering in Thy love.
And bound together with one hair
of
my head.
The bride now turns to the Bridegroom and addresses
Him in the intercourse and comfort of love
;
the subject
of the stanza being the solace and delight which the
bride-soul and the Son of God find in the possession of
the virtues and gifts of each other, and in the exercise
thereof, both rejoicing in their mutual love. Thus the
soul, addressing the Beloved, says that they will make
garlands rich in graces and acquired virtues, obtained
at the fitting and convenient season, beautiful and
lovely in the love He bears the soul, and kept together
by the love which it itself has for Him. This rejoicing
in virtue is what is meant by making garlands, for the
soul and God rejoice together in these virtues bound
up as flowers in a garland, in the common love which
each bears the other.
'
Of emeralds, and of flowers.'
2. The flowers are the virtues of the soul
;
the
emeralds are the gifts it has received from God. Then
of these flowers and emeralds
'
In the early morning gathered.'
232 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXX.]
3.
That is, acquired in youth, which is the early
morning of Ufe. They are said to be gathered because
the virtues which we acquire in youth are most pleasing
unto God ;
because youth is the season when our vices
most resist the acquisition of them, and when our natural
inclinations are most prone to lose them. Those virtues
also are more perfect which we acquire in early youth.
This time of our life is the early morning
;
for as the
freshness of the spring morning is more agreeable than
any other part of the day, so also are the virtues acquired
in our youth more pleasing in the sight of God.
4.
By the fresh morning we may understand those
acts of love by which we acquire virtue, and which
are more pleasing unto God than the fresh morning is
to the sons of men
;
good works also, wrought in the
season of spiritual dryness and hardness
;
this is the
freshness of the winter morning, and what we then do
for God in dryness of spirit is most precious in His eyes.
Then it is that we acquire virtues and graces abundantly
;
and what we then acquire with toil and labour is for
the most part better, more perfect and lasting than what
we acquire in comfort and spiritual sweetness ; for
virtue sends forth its roots in the season of dryness,
toil, and trial : as it is written,
'
Virtue is made perfect
in infirmity.'
*
It is with a view to show forth the
. .
_
*
2 Cor. xii.
9.
[STAN. XXX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 233
excellence of these virtues, of which the garland is wrought
for the Beloved, that the soul says of them that they
have been gathered in the early morning : because it
is these flowers alone, with the emeralds of virtue, the
choice and perfect graces, and not the imperfect, which
are pleasing to the Beloved, and so the bride says :
'
We will make the garlands.'
5.
All the virtues and graces which the* soul, and
God in it, acquire are as a garland of divers flowers,
wherewith the soul is marvellously adorned, as with a
vesture of rich embroidery. As material flowers are
gathered, and then formed into a garland, so the spiritual
flowers of virtues and graces are acquired and set in
order in the soul ; and when the acquisition is complete,
the garland of perfection is complete also. The soul
and the Bridegroom rejoice in it, both beautiful, adorned
with the garland, as in the state of perfection.
6. These are the garlands which the soul says they
will make. That is, it will wreathe itself with this
variety of flowers, with the emeralds of virtues and
perfect gifts, that it may present itself worthily before
the face of the King, and be on an equality with Him,
sitting as a queen on His right hand ;
for it has merited
this by its beauty. Thus David saith, addressing himself
to Christ :
'
The queen stood on Thy right hand in
234
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXX.]
vestments of gold, girt with variety.'
*
That is, at His
right hand, clad in perfect love, girt with the variety
of graces and perfect virtues.
7.
The soul does not say,
'
I will make garlands,' nor,
'
Thou wilt make them,' but, 'We will make them,' not
separately, but both together
;
because the soul cannot
practise virtues alone, nor acquire them alone, without
the help of God
;
neither does God alone create virtue
in the sou> without the soul's concurrence. Though it
be true, as the Apostle saith, that
'
every best gift, and
every perfect gift, is from above, descending from the
Father of lights,'
f
still they enter into no soul without
that soul's concurrence and consent. Thus the bride
in the Canticle saith to the Bridegroom :
'
Draw me
;
we will run after thee.'
J
Every inclination to good
comes from God alone, as we learn here
;
but as to
running, that is, good works, they proceed from God
and the soul together, and it is therefore written,
'
We
will run
'
that is, both together, but not God nor the
soul alone.
8. These words may also be fittingly apphed to
Christ and His Church, which, as His bride, says unto
Him,
'
We will make the garlands.' In this application
of the words the garlands are the holy souls born to
Christ in the Church. Every such soul is by itself a
*
Ps. xliv. 10.
t
St. James i. 17.
J
Cant, i.
3.
garland adorned with the flowers of virtues and graces,
and all of them together a garland for the head of Christ
the Bridegroom.
9.
We may also understand by these beautiful gar-
lands the crowns formed by Christ and the Church, of
which there are three kinds. The first is formed of
the beauty and white flowers of the virgins, each one
with her virginal crown, and forming altogether one
crown for the head of the Bridegroom Christ. The
second, of the brilliant flowers of the holy doctors, each
with his crown of doctor, and all together forming one
crown above that of the virgins on the head of Christ.
The third is composed of the purple flowers of the
martyrs, each with his own crown of martyrdom, and
all united into one, perfecting that on the head of Christ.
Adorned with these garlands He will be so beautiful,
and so lovely to behold, that heaven itself will repeat
the words of the bride in the Canticle, saying :
'
Go
forth, ye daughters of Sion, and see king Solomon in
the diadem wherewith his mother crowned him in the
day of his betrothal, and in the day of the joy of his
heart.'
*
The soul then says we will make garlands.
'
Flowering in Thy love.'
10. The flowering of good works and virtues is the
*
Cant. iii. 11.
236 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXX.]
grace and power which they derive from the love of
God, without which they not only flower not, but become
even dry, and worthless in the eyes of God, though
they may be humanly perfect. But if He gives His
grace and love they flourish in His love.
*
And bound together with one hair of my head.'
11. The hair is the will of the soul, and the love it
bears the Beloved. This love performs the function of
the thread that keeps the garland together. For as a
thread binds the flowers of a garland, so love knits
together and sustains virtues in the soul.
'
Charity
'
that is, lovesaith the Apostle,

'
is the bond of perfec-
tion.'
*
Love, in the same way, binds the virtues and
supernatural gifts together, so that when love fails by
our departure from God, all our virtue perishes also,
just as the flowers drop from the garland when the
thread that bound them together is broken. It is not
enough for God's gift of virtues that He should love
us, but we too must love Him in order to receive them,
and preserve them.
12. The soul speaks of one hair, not of many, to
show that the will by itself is fixed on God, detached
from all other hairs
;
that is, from strange love. This
points out the great price and worth of these garlands of
*
Col. iii. 14.
[STAN. XXX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
237
virtues
;
for when love is single, firmly fixed on God,
as here described, the virtues also are entire, perfect,
and flowering in the love of God
;
for the love He bears
the soul is beyond all price, and the soul also knows
it well.
13. Were I to attempt a description of the beauty
of that binding of the flowers and emeralds together,
or of the strength and majesty which their harmonious
arrangement furnishes to the soul, or the beauty and
grace of its embroidered vesture, expressions and words
would fail me
;
for if God says of the evil spirit,
'
His
body is like molten shields, shut close up with scales,
pressing upon one another, one is joined to another,
and not so much as any air can come between them
'
;
*
if the evil spirit be so strong, clad in malice thus compacted
togetherfor the scales that cover his body like molten
shields are malice, and malice is in itself but weakness
what must be the strength of the soul that is clothed

in virtues so compacted and united together that no
impurity or imperfection can penetrate between them
;
each virtue severally adding strength to strength beauty
to beauty, wealth to wealth, and to majesty, dominion
and grandeur ?
14.
What a marvellous vision will be that of the
bride-soul, when it shall sit on the right hand of the
*
Job xli.
6, 7.
238
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXX.]
Bridegroom-King, crowned with graces !
'
How beau-
tiful are thy steps in shoes, O prince's daughter !
' *
The soul is called a prince's daughter because of the
power it has
;
and if the beauty of the steps in shoes
be great, what must be that of the whole vesture ? Not
only is the beauty of the soul crowned with admirable
flowers, but its strength also, flowing from the harmonious
order of the flowers, intertwined with the emeralds of
its innumerable graces, is terrible :
'
Terrible as the army
of a camp set in array.'
f
For, as these virtues and
gifts of God refresh the soul with their spiritual perfume,
so also, when united in it, do they, out of their substance,
minister strength. Thus, in the Canticle, when the
bride was weak, languishing with lovebecause she had
not been able to bind together the flowers and the emeralds
with the hair of her loveand anxious to strengthen
herself by that union of them, cries out :
'
Stay me with
flowers, compass me about with apples ; because I
languish with love.'
J
The flowers are the virtues, and
the apples are the other graces.
NOTE
I BELIEVE I have now showai how the intertwining
of the garlands and their lasting presence in the soul
*
Cant. vii. i.
^
lb. vi.
3.
J
lb. ii.
5.
explain the divine union of love which now exists be-
tween the soul and God. The Bridegroom, as He saith
Himself, is
'
the flower of the field and the lily of the
valleys,'
*
and the soul's love is the hair that unites to
itself this flower of flowers. Love is the most precious
of all things, because it is the
'
bond of perfection,' as
the Apostle saith, t and perfection is union with God.
The soul is, as it were, a sheaf of garlands, for it is the
subject of this glory, no longer what it was before, but
the very perfect flower of flowers in the perfection and
beauty of all ; for the thread of love binds so closely
God and the soul, and so unites them, that it transforms
them and makes them one by love
;
so that, though
in essence different, yet in glory and appearance the soul
seems God and God the soul. Such is this marvellous
union, baffling all descript'on.
2. We may form some conception of it from the love
of David and Jonathan, whose
'
soul was knit with the
soul of David.'
%
If the iove of one man for another can
be thus strong, so as to knit two souls together, what
must that love of God be which can knit the soul of man
to God the Bridegroom ? God Himself is here the suitor
Who in the omnipotence of His unfathomable love
absorbs the soul with greater violence and efficacy than
a torrent of fire a single drop of the morning dew which
*
Cant, ii, I.
f
Col, iii.
14.
J
i Kings xviii. i.
240
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXI.]
resolves itself into air. The hair, therefore, which
accomplishes such a union must, of necessity, be most
strong and subtile, seeing that it penetrates and binds
together so effectually the soul and God. In the present
stanza the soul declares the qualities of this hair.
STANZA XXXI
By that one hair
Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,
And on my neck regarded,
Thou wert captivated
;
And wounded by one of
my eyes.
There are three things mentioned here. The first is,
that the love by which the virtues are bound together
is nothing less than a strong love
;
for in truth it need be
so in order to preserve them. The second is, that God
is greatly taken by this hair of love, seeing it to be alone
and strong. The third is, that God is deeply enamoured
of the soul, beholding the purity and integrity of its
faith.
'
By that one hair Thou hast observed fluttering
on my neck.'
2. The neck signifies that strength in which, it is
said, fluttered the hair of love, strong love, which bound
the virtues together. It is not sufficient for the preser-
[STAN. XXXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 24I
vation of virtues that love be alone, it must be also strong,
so that no contrary vice may anywhere destroy the
perfection of the garland
;
for the virtues so are bound
up together in the soul by the hair, that if the thread
be once broken, all the virtues are lost
;
for where one
virtue is, all are, and where one fails, all fail also. The
hair is said to flutter on the neck, because its love of God,
without any hindrance whatever, flutters strongly and
lightly in the strength of the soul.
3.
As the air causes hair to wave and flutter on the
neck, so the breath of the Holy Ghost stirs the strong
love that it may fly upwards to God
;
for without this
divine mnd, which excites the powers of the soul to the
practice of divine love, all the virtues the soul may
possess become ineffectual and fruitless. The Beloved
observed the hair fluttering on the neckthat is. He
considered it with particular attention and regard
;
be-
cause strong love is a great attraction for the eyes of God.
'
And on my neck regarded.'
4,
This shows us that God not only esteems this love,
seeing it alone, but also loves it, seeing it strong
;
for to
say that God regards is to say that He loves, and to say
that He observes is to say that He esteems what He
observes. The word
'
neck
'
is repeated in this line, because
it, being strong, is the. cause why God loves it so much
16
242
It is as if the soul said,
'
Thou hast loved it, seeing it
strong without weakness or fear, and without any other
love, and flying upwards swiftly and fervently.'
5.
Until now God had not looked upon this hair
so as to be captivated by it, because He had not seen
it alone, separate from the others, withdrawn from
other loves, feelings, and affections, which hindered it
from fluttering alone on the neck of strength. After-
wards, however, when mortifications and trials,
temptations and penance had detached it, and made it
strong, so that nothing whatever could break it, then
God beholds it, and is taken by it, and binds the flowers
of the garlands with it
;
for it is now so strong that it
can keep the virtues united together in the soul.
6. But what these temptations and trials are, how
they come, and how far they reach, that the soul may
attain to that strength of love in which God unites it
to Himself, I have described in the
'
Dark Night,'
*
and in the explanation of the four stanzas
f
which begin
with the words,
'
O living flame of love !
'
The soul
having passed through these trials has reached a degree
of love so high that it has merited the divine union.
*
Thou wert captivated.'
7.
O joyful wonder ! God captive to a hair. The
* '
Dark Night,' Bk. i, ch, xiv,
f
Stanza ii.
26 sqq.
[STAN. XXXI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
243
reason of this capture so precious is that God was pleased
to observe the fluttering of the hair on the soul's neck
;
for where God regards He loves. If He in His grace
and mercy had not first looked upon us and loved us,*
as St. John
saith, and humbled Himself, He never could
have been taken by the fluttering of the hair of our
miserable love. His flight is not so low as that our love
could lay hold of the divine bird, attract His attention,
and fly so high with a strength worthy of His regard,
if He had not first looked upon us. He, however, is
taken by the fluttering of the hair
;
He makes it worthy
and pleasing to Himself, and then is captivated by it.
*
Thou hast seen it on my neck, Thou wert captivated
by it.' This renders it credible that a bird which flies
low may capture the royal eagle in its flight, if the
eagle should fly so low and be taken by it willingly.
'
And wounded by one of my eyes.'
8. The eye is faith. The soul speaks of but one, and
that this has wounded the Beloved. If the faith and
trust of the soul in God were not one, without admixture
of other considerations, God never could have been
wounded by love. Thus the eye that wounds, and the
hair that binds, must be one. So strong is the love of
the Bridegroom for the bride, because of her simple
*
I St. John iv. 10.
244
faith, that, if the hair of her love binds Him, the eye of
her faith imprisons Him so closely as to wound Him
through that most tender affection He bears her, which
is to the bride a further progress in His love.
9.
The Bridegroom Himself speaks in the Canticle of
the hair and the eyes, saying to the bride,
'
Thou hast
wounded My heart, My sister, My bride ; thou hast
wounded My heart with one of thy eyes, and with one
hair of thy neck.'
*
He says twice that His heart is
wounded, that is, with the eye and the hair, and there-
fore the soul in this stanza speaks of them both, because
they signify its union wdth God in the understanding
and the will ; for the understanding is subdued by faith,
signified by the eye, and the will by love. Here the
soul exults in this union, and gives thanks to the Bride-
groom for it, it being His gift
;
accounting it a great
matter that He has been pleased to requite its love, and
to become captive to it. We may also observe here the
joy, happiness, and delight of the soul with its prisoner,
having been for a long time His prisoner, enamoured
of Him.
NOTE
Great is the power and courage of love, for God is its
prisoner. Blessed is the soul that loves, for it has made
*
Cant. iv.
9.
[STAN. XXXII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
245
a captive of God who obeys its good pleasure. Such is
the nature of love that it makes those who love do what
is asked of them, and, on the other hand, without love
the utmost efforts will be fruitless, but one hair will bind
those that love. The soul, knowing this, and conscious
of blessings beyond its merits, in being raised up to so
high a degree of love, through the rich endowments of
graces and virtues, attributes all to the Beloved,
saying :
STANZA XXXII
When Thou didst regard me,
Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace :
For this didst Thou love me again.
And thereby mine eyes did merit.
To adore what in Thee they saw.
It is the nature of perfect love to seek or accept nothing
for itself, to attribute nothing to itself, but to refer all
to the Beloved. If this be true of earthly love, how
much more so of the love of God, the reason of which
is so constraining. In the two foregoing stanzas the
bride seemed to attribute something to herself
;
for she
said that she would make garlands with her Beloved,
and bind them with a hair of her head
;
that is a great
work, and of no slight importance and worth : after-
wards she said that she exulted in having captivated
246
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXII.]
Him by a hair, and wounded Him with one of her eyes.
All this seems as if she attributed great merits to herself.
Now, however, she explains her meaning, and removes
the wrong impression with great care and fear, lest any
merit should be attributed to herself, and therefore less
to God than His due, and less also than she desired.
She now refers all to Him, and at the same time gives
Him thanks, saying that the cause of His being the
capt>e of the hair of her love, and of His being wounded
by the eye of her faith, was His mercy in looking lovingly
upon her, thereby rendering her lovely and pleasing in
His sight
;
and that the loveliness and worth she received
from Him merited His love, and made her worthy to
adore her Beloved, and to bring forth good works worthy
of His love and favour.
'
When Thou didst regard me.'
2. That is, with loving affection, for I have already
said, that where God regards there He loves.
'
Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace.'
3.
The eyes of the Bridegroom signify here His
merciful divinity, which, mercifully inclined to the soul,
imprints or infuses in it the love and grace by which
He makes it beautiful, and so elevates it that He
makes it the partaker of His divinity. When the
247
soul sees to what height of dignity God has raised it,
it says :
'
For this didst Thou love me again.'
4.
To love again is to love much
;
it is more than
simple love, it is a twofold love, and for two reasons.
Here the soul explains the two motives of the Bride-
groom's love
;
He not only loved it because captivated
by the hair, but He loved it again, because He was
wounded with one of its eyes. The reason why He loved
it so deeply is that He would, when He looked upon it,
give it the grace to please Him, endowing it with the
hair of love, and animating with His charity the faith
of the eye. And therefore the soul saith :
'
For this didst Thou love me again.'
5.
To say that God shows favour to the soul is to
say that He renders it worthy and capable of His love.
It is therefore as if the soul said,
'
Having shown Thy
favour to me, worthy pledges of Thy love. Thou hast
therefore loved me again
'
;
that is,
'
Thou hast given me
grace upon grace
'
;
or, in the words of St. John,
'
grace
for grace
'
;
*
grace for the grace He has given, that is
more grace, for without grace we cannot merit His
grace.
*
St. John i. 16.
248
6. If we could clearly understand this truth, we must
keep in mind that, as God loves nothing beside Himself,
so loves He nothing more than Himself, because He
loves all things with reference to Himself. Thus love
is the final cause, and God loves nothing for what it is
in itself. Consequently, when we say that God loves
such a soul, we say, in effect, that He brings it in a manner
to Himself, making it His equal, and thus it is He loves
that soul in Himself with that very love with which He
loves Himself. Every good work, therefore, of the soul
in God is meritorious of God's love, because the soul
in His favour, thus exalted, merits God Himself in every
act.
'
And thereby mine eyes did merit.'
7.
That is,
'
By the grace and favour which the eyes
of Thy compassion have wrought, when Thou didst look
upon me, rendering me pleasing in Thy sight and worthy
of Thy regard.'
*
To adore what in Thee they saw.'
8. That is :
'
The powers of my soul, O my Bridegroom,
the eyes by which I can see Thee, although once fallen
and miserable in the vileness of their mean occupations,
have merited to look upon Thee.' To look upon God is to
do good works in His grace. Thus the powers of the soul
249
merit in adoring because they adore in the grace of God,
in which every act is meritorious. Enhghtened and
exalted by grace, they adored what in Him they saw, and
what they saw not before, because of their bhndness
and meanness. What, then, have they now seen ? The
greatness of His power. His overflowing sweetness, in-
finite goodness, love, and compassion, innumerable
benefits received at His hands, as well now when so near
Him as before when far away. The eyes of the soul
now merit to adore, and by adoring merit, for they are
beautiful and pleasing to the Bridegroom. Before they
were unworthy, not only to adore or behold Him, but
even to look upon Him at all : great indeed is the
stupidity and blindness of a soul without the grace of
God.
9.
It is a melancholy thing to see how far a soul
departs from its duty when it is not enlightened by the
love of God. For being bound to acknowledge these
and other innumerable favours which it has every
moment received at His hands, temporal as well as
spiritual, and to worship and serve Him unceasingly
with all its faculties, it not only does not do so,
but is unworthy even to think of Him
;
nor does
it make any account of Him whatever. Such is the
misery of those who are living, or rather who are
dead, in sin.
2
50
NOTE
For the better understanding of this and of what follows,
we must keep in mind that the regard of God benefits
the soul in four ways : it cleanses, adorns, enriches, and
enlightens it, as the sun, when it shines, dries, warms,
beautifies, and brightens the earth. When God has
visited the soul in the three latter ways, whereby He
renders it pleasing to Himself, He remembers its
former uncleanness and sin no more : as it is written,
'
All the iniquities that he hath wrought, I will not
remember.'
*
God having once done away with our sin and unclean-
ness, He will look upon them no more
;
nor will He
withhold His mercy because of them, for He never
punishes twice for the same sin, according to the words
of the prophet :
'
There shall not rise a double afflic-
tion.'
t
Still, though God forgets the sin He has once forgiven,
we are not for that reason to forget it ourselves
;
for the
Wise Man saith,
'
Be not without fear about sin for-
given.'
X
There are three reasons for this. We should
always remember our sin, that we may not presume,
that we may have a subject of perpetual thanksgiving,
and because it serves to give us more confidence that
*
Ezech. xviii. 22.
f
Nahum i.
9.
J
Ecclus. v.
5,
[STAN. XXXII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 25I
we shall receive greater favours
;
for if, when we
were in sin, God showed Himself unto us so merciful
and forgiving, how much greater mercies may we
not hope for when we are clean from sin, and in
His love ?
The soul, therefore, calling to mind all the mercies it
has received, and seeing itself united to the Bridegroom
in such dignity, rejoices greatly with joy, thanksgiving,
and love. In this it is helped exceedingly by the recol-
lection of its former condition, which was so mean and
filthy that it not only did not deserve that God should
look upon it, but was unworthy that He should even
utter its name, as He saith by the mouth of the prophet
David :
'
Nor will I be mindful of their names by My
lips.'
*
Thus the soul, seeing that there was, and that
there can be, nothing in itself to attract the eyes of God,
but that all comes from Him of pure grace and good-
will, attributes its misery to itself, and all the blessings
it enjoys to the Beloved
;
and seeing further that be-
cause of these blessings it can merit now what it
could not merit before, it becomes bold with God, and
prays for the divine spiritual union, wherein its mercies
are multiplied. This is the subject of the following
stanza :
*
Ps. XV.
4.
252
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIII.]
STANZA XXXIII
Despise me not,
For
if
I was swarthy once,
Thoii canst regard me now
;
Since Thou hast regarded me,
Grace a)id beauty hast Thou given me.
The soul now is becoming bold, and respects itself,
because of the gifts and endowments which the Beloved
has bestowed upon it. It recognises that these things,
while itself is worthless and undeserving, are at least
means of merit, and consequently it ventures to say to
the Beloved,
'
Do not disregard me now, or despise me
'
;
for if before it deserved contempt because of the filthi-
ness of its sin, and the meanness of its nature, now that
He has once looked upon it, and thereby adorned it with
grace and beauty. He may well look upon it a second
time and increase its grace and beauty. That He has
once done so, when the soul deserved it not, and had
no attractions for Him, is reason enough why He should
do so again and again.
'
Despise me not.'
2. The soul does not say this because it desires in
any way to be esteemedfor contempt and insult are of
great price, and occasions of joy to the soul that truly
loves Godbut because it acknowledges that in itself
[^TAN. XXXIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
253
it merits nothing else, were it not for the gifts and graces
it has received from God, as it appears from the words
that follow.
'
For if I was swarthy once.'
3.
'If, before Thou didst graciously look upon me
Thou didst find me in my filthiness, black with imper-
fections and sins, and naturally mean and vile,'
'
Thou canst regard me now
;
since Thou hast regarded
me.'
4.
'
After once looking upon me, and taking away my
swarthy complexion, defiled by sin and disagreeable to
look upon, when Thou didst render me lovely for the
first time, Thou mayest well look upon me now^that
is, now I may be looked on and deserve to be regarded,
and thereby to receive further favours at Thy hands.
For Thine eyes, when they first looked upon me, did
not only take away my swarthy complexion, but ren-
dered me also worthy of Thy regard
;
for in Thy look
of love,
'
Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.'
5.
The two preceding fines are a commentary on
the words of St. John,
'
grace for grace,'
*
for when
*
St. John i. 16.
254
^ SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIII.]
God beholds a soul that is lovely in His eyes He is
moved to bestow more grace upon it because He dwells
well-pleased within it. Moses knew this, and prayed
for further grace : he would, as it were, constrain God
to grant it because he had already received so much,
'
Thou hast said : I know thee by name, and thou hast
found favour in My sight : if therefore I have found
favour in Thy sight, show me Thy face, that I may know
Thee, and may find grace before Thine eyes.'
*
6, Now a soul which in the eyes of God is thus exalted
in grace, honourable and lovely, is for that reason an
object of His unutterable love. If He loved that soul
before it was in a state of grace, for His own sake, He
loves it now, when in a state of grace, not only for His
own sake, but also for itself. Thus enamoured of its
beauty, through its affections and good works, now that
it is never without them, He bestows upon it continually
further grace and love, and the more honourable and
exalted He renders that soul, the more is He captivated
by it, and the greater His love for it.
7.
God Himself sets this truth before us, saying to
His people, by the mouth of the prophet,
'
since thou
becamest honourable in My eyes, and glorious, I have
loved thee.'
f
That is,
'
Since I have cast Mine eyes
upon thee, and thereby showed thee favour, and made
*
Exod. xxxiii. 12, 13.
t
'^sa. xliii.
4.
[STAN. XXXIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
255
thee glorious and honourable in My sight, thou hast
merited other and further favours
'
;
for to say that
God loves, is to say that He mutiplies His grace. The
bride in the Canticle speaks to the same effect, saying,
'
I am black, but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem,'
*
and the Church adds,| saying,
'
Therefore hath the
King loved me, and brought me into His secret chamber.'
This is as much as saying :
'
O ye souls who have no know-
ledge nor understanding of these favours, marvel not
that the heavenly King has shown such mercy unto me
as to plunge me in the depths of His love, for, though I
am swarthy, He has so regarded me, after once looking
upon me, that He could not be satisfied without be-
trothing me to Himself, and calling me into the inner
chamber of His love.'
8. Who can measure the greatness of the soul's
exaltation when God is pleased with it ? No language,
no imagination is sufficient for this
;
for in truth God
doeth this as God, to show that it is He who does it.
The dealings of God with such a soul may in some degree
be understood
;
but only in this way, namely, that He
gives more to him who has more, and that His gifts are
multiplied in proportion to the previous endowments of
the soul. This is what He teaches us Himself in the
Gospel, saying
:
'
He that hath, to him shall be given,
*
Cant. i.
4.
f
Antiphon in Vesper B.M.V.
256
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIII.]
and he shall abound : but he that hath not, from him
shall be taken away even that which he hath.'
*
9.
Thus the talent of that servant, not then in favour
with his lord, was taken from him and given to another
who had gained others, so that the latter might have all,
together with the favour of his lord.f God heaps the
noblest and the greatest favours of His house, which is
the Church militant as well as the Church triumphant,
upon him who is most His friend, ordaining it thus for
His greater honour and glory, as a great light absorbs
many Httle lights. This is the spiritual sense of those
words, already cited, J the prophet Isaias addressed to
the people of Israel :
'
I am the Lord thy God, the Holy
One of Israel, thy Saviour : I have given Egypt for thy
atonement and Saba for thee. I will give men for thee,
and people for thy life.'
10. Well mayest Thou then, O God, gaze upon and

prize that soul which Thou regardest, for Thou hast
made it precious by looking upon it, and given it graces
which in Thy sight are precious, and by which Thou
art captivated. That soul, therefore, deserves that
Thou shouldest regard it not once only, but often, seeing
that Thou hast once looked upon it ; for so is it written
in the book of Esther by the Holy Ghost :
'
This honour
is he worthy of, whom the king hath a mind to honour.'
||
*
Matt. xiii. 12. j lb. xxv. 28.
J
7. Tsa. xliii.
3. ||
Esth. vi. 11.
STAN. XXXIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
257
NOTE.
The gifts of love which the Bridegroom bestows on
the soul in this state are inestimable
;
the praises and
endearing expressions of divine love which pass so fre-
quently between them are beyond all utterance. The
soul is occupied in praising Him, and in giving Him
thanks
;
and He in exalting, praising, and thanking the
soul, as we see in the Canticle, where He thus speaks to
the bride :
'
Behold, thou art fair, O My love, behold,
thou art fair
;
thy eyes are as those of doves.' The
bride replies :
'
Behold, thou art fair, my Beloved, and
comely.'* These, and other like expressions, are addressed
by them each to the other.
2. In the previous stanza the soul despised itself, and
said it was swarthy and unclean, praising Him for His
beauty and grace. Who, by looking upon the soul, ren-
dered it gracious and beautiful. He, Whose way it is
to exalt the humble, fixing His eyes upon the soul, as
He was entreated to do, praises it in the following
stanza. He does not call it swarthy, as the soul calls
itself, but He addresses it as His white dove, praising
it for its good dispositions, those of a dove and a
turtle-dove.
*
Cant. iv. i, vi.
3.
17
258
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIV.]
STANZA XXXIV
THE BRIDEGROOM
The little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the hough
;
And now the turtle-dove
Its desired mate
On the green banks has found.
It is the Bridegroom Himself who now speaks. He
celebrates the purity of the soul in its present state, the
rich rewards it has gained, in having prepared itself, and
laboured to come to Him. He also speaks of its blessed-
ness in having found the Bridegroom in this union, and
of the fulfilment of all. its desires, the delight and joy it
has in Him now that all the trials of life and time are
over.
'
The little white dove.'
2. He calls the soul, on account of its whiteness and
purityeffects of the grace it has received at the hands
of Goda dove,
'
the little white dove,' for this is the
term He applies to it in the Canticle, to mark its sim-
plicity, its natural gentleness, and its loving contempla-
tion. The dove is not only simple, and gentle without
gall, but its eyes are also clear, full of love. The Bride-
groom, therefore, to point out in it this character of
loving contemplation, wherein it looks upon God, says
[STAN. XXXIV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
259
of it that its eyes are those of a dove :
'
Thy eyes are
dove's eyes.'
*
'
Has returned to the ark with the bough.'
3.
Here the Bridegroom compares the soul to the
dove of Noe's ark, the going and returning of which is a
figure of what befalls the soul. For as the dove went
forth from the ark, and returned because it found no
rest for its feet on account of the waters of the deluge,
until the time when it returned with the olive branch in
its mouth
a
sign of the mercy of God in drying the
waters which had covered the earthso the soul went
forth at its creation out of the ark of God's omnipotence,
and having traversed the deluge of its sins and imperfec-
tions, and finding no rest for its desires, flew and returned
on the air of the longings of its love to the ark of its
Creator's bosom
;
but it only effected an entrance when
God had dried the waters of its imperfections.
Then it
returned with the olive branch, that is, the victory over
all things by His merciful compassion, to this blessed
and perfect recollection in the bosom of the Beloved, not
only triumphant
over all its enemies, but also rewarded
for its merits
;
for both the one and the other are sym-
bolised by the olive bough. Thus the dove-soul returns
to the ark of God not only white and pure as it went
*
Cant. iv. i.
26o A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIV.]
forth when He created it, but with the oHve branch of
reward and peace obtained by the conquest of itself.
'
And now the turtle-dove its desired mate
on the green banks has found.'
4.
The Bridegroom calls the soul the turtle-dove,
because when it is seeking after the Beloved it is like the
turtle-dove when it cannot find its desired mate. It is
said of the turtle-dove, when it cannot find its mate,
that it sitteth not on the green boughs, nor drinketh of
the cool refreshing waters, nor retireth to the shade, nor
mingleth with companions
;
but when it finds its mate
then it doeth all this.
5.
Such, too, is the condition of the soul, and
necessarily, if it is to attain to union with the Bride-
groom. The soul's love and anxiety must be such that
it cannot rest on the green boughs of any joy, nor drink
of the waters of this world's honour and glory, nor
recreate itself with any temporal consolation, nor shelter
itself in the shade of created help and protection : it must
repose nowhere, it must avoid the society of all its in-
clinations, mourn in its loneliness, until it shall find the
Bridegroom to its perfect contentment.
6. And because the soul, before it attained to this
estate, sought the Beloved in great love, and was satisfied
with nothing short of Him, the Bridegroom here speaks
[STAN. XXXIV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 261
of the end of its labours, and the fulfilment of its desires,
saying :
'
Now the turtle-dove its desired mate on the
green banks has found.' That is : Now the bride-soul
sits on the green bough, rejoicing in her Beloved, drinks
of the clear waters of the highest contemplation and of
the wisdom of God
;
is refreshed by the consolations it
finds in Him, and is also sheltered under the shadow of
His favour and protection, which she had so earnestly
desired. There is she deliciously and divinely com-
forted, refreshed, and nourished, as she saith in the
Canticle :
'
I sat down under His shadow Whom I
desired, and His fruit was sweet to my palate.'
*
NOTE
The Bridegroom proceeds to speak of the satisfaction
which He derives from the happiness which the bride has
found in that solitude wherein she desired to live
a
stable peace and unchangeable good. For when the
bride is confirmed in the tranquillity of her soul and
solitary love of the Bridegroom, she reposes so sweetly
in the love of God, and God also in her, that she requires
no other means or masters to guide her in the way of
God ;
for God Himself is now her light and guide, ful-
filling in her what He promised by the mouth of Oseas,
*
Cant. ii.
3.
262 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXV.]
saying :
'
I will lead her into the wilderness, and I will
speak to her heart.'
*
That is, it is in solitude that He
communicates Himself, and unites Himself, to the soul,
for to speak to the heart is to satisfy the heart, and no
heart can be satisfied with less than God. And so the
Bridegroom says :
STANZA XXXV
In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest
;
And in solitude, alone
Hath the Beloved guided her.
In solitude also ivounded with love.
In this stanza the Bridegroom is doing two things : one
is. He is praising the solitude in which the soul once
lived, for it was the means whereby it found the Beloved,
and rejoiced in Him, away from all its former anxieties
and troubles. For, as the soul abode in solitude,
abandoning all created help and consolation, in order to
obtain the fellowship and union of the Beloved, it
deserved thereby possession of the peace of solitude in
the Beloved, in Whom it reposes alone, undisturbed by
any anxieties.
2. The second is this : the Bridegroom is saying that,
inasmuch as the soul has desired to be alone, far away,
*
Os. ii.
14.
[STAN. XXXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 263
for His sake, from all created things, He has been en-
amoured of it because of its loneliness, has taken care
of it, held it in His arms, fed it with all good things, and
guided it to the deep things of God. He does not merely
say that He is now the soul's guide, but that He is its
only guide, without any intermediate help, either of
angels or of men, either of forms or of figures
;
for the
soul in this solitude has attained to true liberty of spirit,
and is wholly detached from all subordinate means.
*
In solitude she lived.'
3.
The turtle-dove, that is, the soul, lived in solitude
before she found the Beloved in this state of union
;
for
the soul that longs after God derives no consolation from
any other companionship,
yea, until it finds Him

everything does but increase its solitude.
'
And in solitude built her nest.'
4.
The previous sohtude of the soul was its voluntary
privation of all the comforts of this world, for the sake
of the Bridegroomas in the instance of the turtle-
doveits striving after perfection, and acquiring that
perfect solitude wherein it attains to union with the
Word, and in consequence to complete refreshment and
repose. This is what is meant by
'
nest
'
; and the
words of the stanza may be thus explained :
'
In that
264
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN, XXXV.]
solitude, wherein the bride formerly lived, tried by
afflictions and troubles, because she was not perfect,
there, in that solitude, hath she found refreshment and
rest, because she has found perfect rest in God.' This,
too, is the spiritual sense of these words of the Psalmist :
'
The sparrow hath found herself a house, and the turtle
a nest for herself, where she may lay her young ones
;
*
that is, a sure stay in God, in Whom all the desires and
powers of the soul are satisfied.'
'
And in solitude,'
5.
In the solitude of perfect detachment from all
things, wherein it lives alone with Godthere He guides
it, moves it, and elevates it to divine things. He guides
the understanding in the perception of divine things,
because it is now detached from all strange and contrary
knowledge, and is alone. He moves the will freely to
love Himself, because it is now alone, disencumbered
from all other affections. He fills the memory with
divine knowledge, because that also is now alone, emptied
of all imaginations and fancies. For the instant the
soul clears and empties its faculties of all earthly objects,
and from attachments to higher things, keeping them in
solitude, God immediately fills them with the invisible
and divine
;
it being God Himself Who guides it in this
*
Ps. Ixxxiii.
4.
[STAN. XXXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 265
solitude. St. Paul says of the perfect, that they
'
are
led by the Spirit of God/* and that is the same as saying
'
In solitude hath He guided her.'
*
Alone hath the Beloved guided her.'
6. That is, the Beloved not only guides the soul in
its solitude, but it is He alone Who works in it directly
and immediately. It is of the nature of the soul's union
with God in the spiritual marriage that God works
directly, and communicates Himself immediately, not
by the ministry of angels or by the help of natural capa-
cities. For the exterior and interior senses, all created
things, and even the soul itself, contribute very little
towards the reception of those great supernatural favours
which God bestows in this state
;
yea, rather, inasmuch
as they do not fall within the cognizance of natural
efforts, ability and application, God effects them alone.
7.
The reason is, that He finds the soul alone in its
solitude, and therefore will not give it another com-
panion, nor will He entrust His work to any other than
Himself.
8. There is a certain fitness in this
;
for the soul
having abandoned all things, and passed through all the
ordinary means, rising above them unto God, God Him-
self becomes the guide, and the way to Himself. The
*
Rom. viii.
14.
266 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXV.]
soul in solitude, detached from all things, having now
ascended above all things, nothing now can profit or
help it to ascend higher except the Bridegroom Word
Himself, Who, because enamoured of the bride, will
Himself alone bestow these graces on the soul. And
so He says :
'
In solitude also wounded with love.'
9.
That is, the love of the bride
;
for the Bridegroom
not only loves greatly the solitude of the ioul, but is also
wounded with love of her, because the soul would abide
in solitude and detachment, on account of its being
itself wounded with love of Him. He will not, therefore,
leave it alone
;
for being wounded with love because of
the soul's solitude on His account, and seeing that
nothing else can satisfy it. He comes Himself to be alone
its guide, drawing it to, and absorbing it in. Himself.
But He would not have done so if He had not found it
in this spiritual solitude.
NOTE
It is a strange characteristic of persons in love that
they take a much greater pleasure in their loneliness
than in the company of others. For if they meet to-
gether in the presence of others with whom they need
have no intercourse, and from whom they have nothing
[STAN, XXXV.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 267
to conceal, and if those others neither address them nor
interfere with them, yet the very fact of their presence
is sufficient to rob the lovers of all pleasure in their
meeting. The cause of this lies in the fact that love is
the union of two persons, who will not communicate
with each other if they are not alone. And now the
soul, having reached the summit of perfection, and
liberty of spirit in God, all the resistance and contradic-
tions of the flesh being subdued, has no other occupa-
tion or employment than indulgence in the joys of its
intimate love of the Bridegroom. It is written of holy
Tobias, after the trials of his life were over, that God
restored his sight, and that
'
the rest of his life was in
joy.'
*
So is it with the perfect soul, it rejoices in the
blessings that surround it,
2. The prophet Isaias says of the soul which, having
been tried in the works of perfection has arrived at the
goal desired :
'
Thy light shall arise up in darkness, and
thy darkness shall be as the noonday. And the Lord
will give thee rest always, and will fill thy soul with
brightness, and deliver thy bones, and thou shalt be as a
watered garden and as a fountain of water whose waters
shall not fail. And the deserts of the world shall be
builded in thee : thou shalt raise up the foundations of
generation and generation
;
and thou shalt be called the
*
Tob, xiv,
4.
268 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVI.]
builder of the hedges, turning the paths into rest. If thou
turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy will
in My holy day, and call the Sabbath delicate, and the
Holy of our Lord glorious, and glorify Him while thou
doest not thine own ways, and thy will be not found, to
speak a word : then shalt thou be delighted in the
Lord, and I will lift thee up above the heights of the
earth, and will feed thee with the inheritance of Jacob
thy father,'
*
Who is God Himself. The soul, therefore,
has nothing else to do now but to rejoice in the delights
of this pasture, and one thing only to desirethe perfect
fruition of it in everlasting life. Thus, in the next and
the following stanzas it implores the Beloved to admit
it into this beatific pasture in the clear vision of God,
and says :
STANZA XXXVI
THE BRIDE
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved,
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,
To the mountain and the hill.
Where the pure water flows ;
Let us enter into the heart
of
the thicket.
The perfect union of love between itself and God being
now effected, the soul longs to occupy itself with those
*
Isa. Iviii. 10-14.
[STAN. XXXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 269
things that belong to love. It is the soul which is now
speaking, making three petitions to the Beloved. In
the first place, it asks for the joy and sweetness of love,
saying,
'
Let us rejoice.' In the second place, it prays
to be made hke Him, saying,
'
Let us go forth to see
ourselves in Thy beauty.' In the third place, it begs
to be admitted to the knowledge of His secrets, saying,
'
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.'
'
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved.'
2. That is, in the sweetness of our love
;
not only in
that sweetness of ordinary union, but also in that which
flows from active and affective love, whether in the will
by an act of affection, or outwardly, in good works which
tend to the service of the Beloved. For love, as I have
said, where it is firmly rooted, ever runs after those
joys and delights which are the acts of exterior and
interior love. All this the soul does that it may be
made like to the Beloved.
'
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty.'
3.
'
Let us so act, that, by the practice of this love, we
may come to see ourselves in Thy beauty in everlasting
life.' That is :
'
Let me be so transformed in Thy beauty,
that, being alike in beauty, we may see ourselves both
in Thy beauty
;
having Thy beauty, so that, one beholding
270 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVI.]
the other, each may see his own beauty in the other,
the beauty of both being Thine only, and mine absorbed
in it. And thus I shall see Thee in Thy beauty, and
myself in Thy beauty, and Thou shalt see me in Thy
beauty
;
and I shall see myself in Thee in Thy beauty,
and Thou Thyself in me in Thy beauty ; so shall I seem
to be Thyself in Thy beauty, and Thou myself in Thy
beauty
;
my beauty shall be Thine, Thine shall be
mine, and I shall be Thou in it, and Thou myself in
Thine own beauty
;
for Thy beauty will be my beauty,
and so we shall see, each the other, in Thy beauty.'
4.
This is the adoption of the sons of God, who
may truly say w'hat the Son Himself says to the Eternal
Father :
'
All my things are Thine, and Thine are mine,'*
He by essence, being the Son of God by nature, we by
participation, being sons by adoption. This He says
not for Himself only. Who is the Head, but for the
whole mystical body, which is the Church. For the
Church will share in the very beauty of the Bridegroom
in the day of her triumph, when she shall see God face
to face. And this is the vision which the soul prays
that the Bridegroom and itself may go in His beauty
to see.
'
To the mountain and the hill.'
*
St. John xvii. 10.
[STAN. XXXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 27I
.
5.
That is, to the morning and essential knowledge of
God,* which is knowledge in the Divine Word, Who,
because He is so high, is here signified by
'
the moun-
tain.' Thus Isaias saith, calling upon men to know the
Son of God :
'
Come, and let us go up to the mountain
of our Lord
'
;t
and before :
'
In the last days the
mountain of the house of the Lord shall be prepared.'
J
'
And to the hill'
6. That is, to the evening knowledge of God, to the
knowledge of Him in His creatures, in His works, and
in His marvellous laws. This is signified by the ex-
pression
'
hill,' because it is a kind of knowledge lower
than the other. The soul prays for both when it says
'
to the mountain and the hill.'
7.
When the soul says,
'
Let us go forth to see
ourselves in Thy beauty to the mountain,' its meaning
is,
'
Transform me, and make me like the beauty of the
Divine Wisdom, the Word, the Son of God.' When it
says
'
to the hill,' the meaning is,
'
Do Thou instruct
me in the beauty of this lower knowledge, which is
*
St. Augustine,
'
De Genesi ad Litt.' iv., xxiv. (and elsewhere) and
the scholastics (St. Thomas,
'
S. Th.' I. Iviii.
7)
distinguish between the
'
morning knowledge
'
whereby angels and saints know created things
by seeing the Divine Word, and
'
evening knowledge
'
where they
derive their knowledge from the created things themselves.
t
Isa. ii.
3.
*
lb. 2.
272
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVI.]
manifest in Thy creatures and mysterious works.' This
also is the beauty of the Son of God, wherewith the
soul desires to shine.
8. But the soul cannot see itself in the beauty of
God if it be not transformed in His wisdom, wherein all
things are seen and possessed, whether in heaven or
in earth. It was to this mountain and to this hill the
bride longed to come when she said,
'
I will go to the
mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.'*
The mountain of myrrh is the clear vision of God, and
the hill of frankincense the knowledge of Him in His
works, for the myrrh on the mountain is of a higher
order than the incense on the hill.
*
Where the pure water flows.'
9.
This is the wisdom and knowledge of God, which
cleanse the understanding, and detach it from all accidents
and fancies, and which clear it of the mist of ignorance.
The soul is ever influenced by this desire of perfectly
and clearly understanding the divine verities, and the
more it loves the more it desires to penetrate them,
and hence the third petition which it makes:
'
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket
;
'
10. Into the depths of God's marvellous works and
*
Cant. iv. 6.
[STAN. XXXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
273
profound judgments. Such is their muUitude and
variety, that they may be called a thicket. They are
so full of wisdom and mystery, that we may not only
call them a thicket, but we may even apply to them
the words of David :
'
The mountain of God is a rich
mountain, a mountain curdled as cheese, a rich
mountain.'* The thicket of the wisdom and knowledge
of God is so deep, and so immense, that the soul, how
much soever it knows of it, can always penetrate further
within it, because it is so immense and so incompre-
hensible.
'
O the depth,' cries out the Apostle,
'
of
the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God !
How incomprehensible are His judgments, and how
unsearchable His ways !
'f
II. But the soul longs to enter this thicket and
incomprehensibility of His judgments, for it is moved
by that longing for a deeper knowledge of them. That
knowledge is an inestimable delight, transcending all
understanding. David speaking of the sweetness of
them, saith :
'
The judgments of our Lord are true,
justified in themselves, to be desired above gold and
many precious stones, and sweeter than honey and the
honey-comb. For Thy servant keepeth them.
'J
The
soul therefore earnestly longs to be engulfed in His
judgments, and to have a deeper knowledge of them,
*
Ps. Ixvii. 16.
t
Rom. xi.
33.
X
Ps. xviii, 10-12.
18
274
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN, XXXVI.]
and for that end would esteem it a joy and great con-
solation to endure all sufferings and afflictions in the
world, and whatever else might help it to that end, how-
ever hard and painful it might be
;
it would gladly pass
through the agonies of death to enter deeper into God.
12. Hence, also, the thicket, which the soul desires
to enter, may be fittingly imderstood as signifying
the great and many trials and tribulations which the
soul longs for, because suffering is most sweet and most
profitable to it, inasmuch as it is the way by which it
enters more and more into the thicket of the delicious
wisdom of God. The most pure suffering leads to the
most pure and the deepest knowledge, and consequently
to the purest and highest joy, for that is the issue of
the deepest knowledge. Thus, the soul, not satisfied
with ordinary suffering, says,
'
Let us enter into the
heart of the thicket,' even the anguish of death, that
I may see God.
13- Job,
desiring to suffer that he might see God,
thus speaks :
'
Who will grant that my request may
come, and that God may give me what I look for ? And
that He that hath begun may destroy me, that He may
let loose His hand and cut me off ? And that this may
be my comfort, that afflicting me with sorrow. He spare
not.'* O that men would understand how impossible
*
Job. vi S-io.
[STAN. XXXVI.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
275
it is to enter the thicket, the manifold riches of the
wisdom of God, without entering into the thicket of
manifold suffering making it the desire and consolation
of the soul ; and how that the soul which really longs
for the divine wisdom longs first of all for the sufferings
of the Cross, that it may enter in.
14.
For this cause it was that St. Paul admonished
the Ephesians not to faint in their tribulations, but to
take courage :
'
That being rooted and founded in
charity, you may be able to comprehend with all the
saints what is the breadth, and length, and height, and
depth
;
to know also the charity of Christ, which sur-
passeth all knowledge, that you may be filled unto all
the fulness of God.'* The gate by which we enter into
the riches of the knowledge of God is the Cross
; and
that gate is narrow. They who desire to enter in that
way are few, while those who desire the joys that come
by it are many.
NOTE
One of the principal reasons why the soul desires to be
released and to be with Christ, is, that it may see Him
face to face, and penetrate to the depths of His ways
and the eternal mysteries of His incarnation, which is
not the least part of its blessedness
;
for in the Gospel
*
Eph. iii. 17-19.
276 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVII.]
of St.
John He, addressing the Father, said :
'
Now this
is eternal hfe : that they may know Thee, the only
true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.'*
As the first act of a person who has taken a long journey
is to see and converse with him whom he was in search
of, so the first thing which the soul desires, when it has
attained to the beatific vision, is to know and enjoy the
deep secrets and mysteries of the incarnation and the
ancient ways of God depending on them. Thus the
soul, having said that it longed to see itself in the beauty
of God, sings as in the following stanza :
STANZA XXXVII
We shall go at once
To the deep caverns
of
the rock
Which are all secret
;
There we shall enter in,
And taste
of
the new wine
of the pomegranate.
One of the reasons which most influence the soul to
desire to enter into the
'
thicket ' of the wisdom of God,
and to have a more intimate knowledge of the beauty of
the divine wisdom, is, as I have said, that it may unite
the understanding with God in the knowledge of the
mysteries of the Incarnation, as of all His works the
highest and most full of sweetness, and the most delicious
*
St. John xvii.
3.
[STAN. XXXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
277
knowledge. And here the bride therefore says, that
after she has entered in within the divine wisdomthat
is, the spiritual marriage, which is now and \vill be in
glory, seeing God face to faceher soul united with the
divine wisdom, the Son of God, she will then understand
the deep mysteries of God and Man, which are the highest
wisdom hidden in God. They, that is, the bride and
the Bridegroom, will enter inthe soul ingulfed and
absorbedand both together will have the fruition of
the joy which springs from the knowledge of mysteries,
and attributes and power of God which are revealed in
those mysteries, such as His justice, His mercy, wisdom,
power, and love.
'
We shall go at once to the deep caverns of the rock.'
2.
'
This rock is Christ,' as we learn from St. Paul.*
The deep caverns of the rock are the deep mysteries of
the wisdom of God in Christ, in the hypostatical union
of the human nature with the Divine Word, and in
the correspondence with it of the union of man with
God, and in the agreement of God's justice and mercy
in the salvation of mankind, in the manifestation of
His judgments. And because His judgments are so
high and so deep, they are here fittingly called
'
deep
caverns
'
;
deep because of the depth of His mysteries,
*
I Cor. X.
4.
278
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVII.]
and caverns because of the depth of His wisdom in
them. For as caverns are deep, with many windings,
so each mystery of Christ is of deepest wisdom, and
has many windings of His secret judgments of pre-
destination and foreknowledge with respect to men.
*
Which are all secret.'
3.
Notwithstanding the marvellous mysteries which
holy doctors have discovered, and holy souls have
understood in this life, many more remain behind.
There are in Christ great depths to be fathomed, for He
is a rich mine, with many recesses full of treasures, and
however deeply we may descend we shall never reach
the end, for in every recess new veins of new treasures
abound in all directions :
'
In Whom,' according to
the Apostle,
'
are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge.'* But the soul cannot reach these hidden
treasures unless it first passes through the thicket of
interior and exterior suffering : for even such knowledge
of the mysteries of Christ as is possible in this life cannot
be had without great sufferings, and without many
intellectual and moral gifts, and without previous
spiritual exercises
;
for all these gifts are far inferior
to this knowledge of the mysteries of Christ, being
only a preparation for it.
* Cpi, ii.
3,
[STAN, XXXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
279
4.
Thus God said to Moses, when he asked to see
His glory,
'
Man shall not see Me and live.' God, how-
ever, said that He would show him all that could be
revealed in this life
;
and so He set Moses
*
in a hole
of the rock,' which is Christ, where he might see His
*
back parts
'
;
*
that is. He made him understand the
mysteries of the Sacred Humanity.
5.
The soul longs to enter in earnest into these
caverns of Christ, that it may be absorbed, transformed,
and inebriated in the love and knowledge of His mys-
teries, hiding itself in the bosom of the Beloved. It is
into these caverns that He invites the bride, in the
Canticle, to enter, saying :
'
Arise, my love, my beautiful
one, and come
;
my dove in the clefts of the rock, in
the hollow places of the wall.'
f
These clefts of the
rock are the caverns of which we are here speaking, and
to which the bride refers, saying :
'
And there we shall enter in.'
6. Tha is, in the knowledge of the divine mysteries.
The bride says not
'
I will enter
'
alone, which seems the
most fittingseeing that the Bridegroom has no need to
enter in againbut
'
we will enter,' that is, the Bride-
groom and the bride, to show that this is not the work
pf the bride, but of the Bridegroom with her. Moreover,
^ Exod. xxxiii, 20-23. t Cant, ii. 13, 14.
28o A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVII.]
inasmuch as God and the soul are now united in the
state of spiritual marriage, the soul doeth nothing of
itself without God. To say
'
we will enter,' is as much
as to say,
'
there shall we transform ourselves
'
that is,
'
I shall be transformed in Thee through the love of Thy
divine and sweet judgments
'
: for in the knowledge of
the predestination of the just and in the foresight of the
wicked, wherein the Father prevented the just in the
benedictions of His sweetness in Jesus Christ His Son,
the soul is transformed in a most exalted and perfect
way in the love of God according to this knowledge,
giving thanks to the Father, and loving Him again and
again with great sweetness and delight, for the sake of
Jesus Christ His Son. This the soul does in union with
Christ and together with Him. The delight flowing
from this act of praise is ineffably sweet, and the soul
speaks of it in the words that follow :
'
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranates.'
7.
The pomegranates here are the mysteries of
Christ and the judgments of the wisdom of God
;
His
power and attributes, the knowledge of which we have
from these mysteries
;
and they are infinite. For as
pomegranates have many grains in their round orb, so in
each one of the attributes and judgments and power of
God is a multitude of admirable arrangements and
[STAN. XXXVII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 281
marvellous works contained within the sphere of power
and mystery, appertaining to those works. Consider the
round form of the pomegranate
;
for each pomegranate
signifies some one power and attribute of God, which
power or attribute is God Himself, symbolised here by
the circular figure, which has neither beginning nor end.
It was in the contemplation of the judgments and
mysteries of the wisdom of God, which are infinite, that
the bride said,
'
His belly is of ivory set with sapphires.'*
The sapphires are the mysteries and judgments of the
divine Wisdom, which is here signified by the
'
belly
'
the sapphire being a precious stone of the colour of the

heavens when clear and serene.
8. The wine of the pomegranates which the bride says
that she and the Bridegroom will taste is the fruition
and joy of the love of God which overflows the soul in
the understanding and knowledge of His mysteries. For
as the many grains of the pomegranate pressed together
give forth but one wine, so all the marvels and mag-
nificence of God, infused into the soul, issue in but one
fruition and joy of love, which is the drink of the Holy
Ghost, and which the soul offers at once to God the Word,
its Bridegroom, with great tenderness of love.
9.
This divine drink the bride promised to the Bride-
groom if He would lead her into this deep knowledge :
*
Cant. V.
14.
282 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVII.]
'
There Thou shall teach me,' saith the bride,
'
and I
will give Thee a cup of spiced wine, and new wine of my
pomegranates.'
*
The soul calls them
'
my pome-
granates,' though they are God's Who had given them
to it, and the soul offers them to God as if they were its
own, saying,
'
We will taste of the wine of the pome-
granates
'
;
for when He tastes it He gives it to the soul
to taste, and when the soul tastes it, the soul gives it
back to Him, and thus it is that both taste it together.
NOTE
In the two previous stanzas the bride sung of those good
things which the Bridegroom is to give her in ever-
lasting bliss, namely, her transformation in the beauty
of created and uncreated wisdom, and also in the beauty
of the union of the Word with flesh, wherein she shall
behold His face as well as His back. Accordingly two
things are set before us in the following stanza. The
first is the way in which the soul tastes of the divine
wine of the pomegranates ;
the second is the soul's
putting before the Bridegroom the glory of its predestina-
tion. And though these two things are spoken of
separately, one after the other, they are both involved
in the one essential glory of the soul.
*
Cant. viii. 2.
[STAN. XXXVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 283
STANZA XXXVIII
There Thoii'wilt show me
That which my soul desired
;
And there Thou wilt give me at once,

.
Thou, my life.
That which Thou gavest me the other day.
The reason why the soul longed to enter the caverns
was that it might attain to the consummation of the
love of God, the object of its continual desires
;
that is,
that it might love God with the pureness and perfection
wherewith He has loved it, so that it might thereby
requite His love. Hence in the present stanza the bride
saith to the Bridegroom that He will there show her
what she had always aimed at in all her actions, namely,
that He would show her how to love Him perfectly, as
He has loved her. And, secondly, that He will give her
that essential glory for which He has predestined her
from the day of His eternity.
'
There Thou wilt show me
That which my soul desired.'
2. That which the soul aims at is equality in love
with God, the object of its natural and supernatural
desire. He who loves cannot be satisfied if he does not
feel that he loves as much as he is loved. And when
the fiOul sees that in the transformation in God, such as
284
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVIII.]
is possible in this life, notwithstanding the immensity
of its love, it cannot equal the perfection of that love
wherewith God loves it, it desires the clear transformation
of glory wherein it shall equal the perfection of love
wherewith it is itself beloved of God
;
it desires, I say,
the clear transformation of glory wherein it shall equal
His love.
3.
For though in this high state, which the soul
reaches on earth, there is a real union of the will, yet it
cannot reach that perfection and strength of love which
it will possess in the union of glory; seeing that then,
according to the Apostle, the soul will know God as it
is known of Him :
'
Then I shall know even as I am
known.'
*
That is,
'
I shall then love God even as I am
loved by Him.' For as the understanding of the soul will
then be the understanding of God, and its will the will
of God, so its love will also be His love. Though in
heaven the will of the soul is not destroyed, it is so in-
timately united with the power of the will of God, Who
loves it, that it loves Him as strongly and as perfectly
as it is loved of Him
;
both wills being united in one
sole will and one sole love of God.
4,
Thus the soul loves God with the will and strength
of God Himself, being made one with that very strength
of love wherewith itself is loved of God, This strength
*
I Cor. xiii. 12.
[STAN. XXXVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 285
is of the Holy Ghost, in Whom the soul is there trans-
formed. He is given to the soul to strengthen its love
;
ministering to it, and supplying in it, because of its
transformation in glory, that which is defective in it.
In the perfect transformation, also, of the state of spiritual
marriage, such as is possible on earth, in which the soul
is all clothed in grace, the soul loves in a certain way in
the Holy Ghost, Who is given to it in that transformation.
5.
We are to observe here that the bride does not
say,
'
There wilt Thou give me Thy love,' though that be
truefor that means only that God will love herbut
that He will there show her how she is to love Him with
that perfection at which she aims, because there in
giving her His love He will at the same time show her
how to love Him as He loves her. For God not only
teaches the soul to love Himself purely, with a
disinterested love, as He hath loved us, but He also
enables it to love Him with that strength with which
He loves the soul, transforming it in His love, wherein
He bestows upon it His own power, so that it may love
Him. It is as if He put an instrument in its hand,
taught it the use thereof, and played upon it together
with the soul. This is showing the soul how it is to
love, and at the same time endowing it with the capacity
of loving.
6. The soul is not satisfied until it reaches this point.
286 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXVIII.]
neither would it be satisfied even in heaven, unless it
felt, as St. Thomas teaches,* that it loved God as much
as it is loved of Him. And as I said of the state of
spiritual marriage of which I am speaking, there is now
at this time, though it cannot be that perfect love in
glory, a certain vivid vision and likeness of that per-
fection, which is wholly indescribable.
'
And there Thou wilt give me at once, O Thou my life,
that which Thou gavest me the other day.'
7.
What He will give is the essential glory which
consists in the vision of God. Before proceeding further
it is requisite to solve a question which arises here,
namely. Why is it, seeing that essential glory consists
in the vision of God, and not in loving Him, the soul
says that its longing is for His love, and not for the essen-
tial glory ? Why is it that the soul begins the stanza
with referring to His love, and then introduces the subject
of the essential glory afterwards, as if it were something
of less importance ?
8. There are two reasons for this. The first is this :
As the whole aim of the soul is love, the seat of which
is in the will, the property of which is to give and not
to receivethe property of the understanding, the
subject of essential glory, being to receive and not to
* '
Opusc. de Beatitudine,' cap. 2.
[STAN. XXXVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
287
giveto the soul inebriated with love the first con-
sideration is not the essential glory which God will
bestow upon it, but the entire surrender of itself to Him
in true love, without any regard to its own advantage.
9.
The second reason is that the second object is
included in the first, and has been taken for granted in
the previous stanzas, it being impossible to attain to
the perfect love of God without the perfect vision of
Him. The question is solved by the first reason, for the
soul renders to God by love that which is His due, but
with the understanding it receives from Him and does
not give.
10. I now resume the explanation of the stanza, and
inquire what day is meant by the
*
other day,' and
what is it that God then gave the soul, and what that
is which it prays to receive afterwards in glory ? By
'
other day
'
is meant the day of the eternity of God,
which is other than the day of time. In that day of
eternity God predestined the soul unto glory, and deter-
mined the degree of glory which He would give it and
freely gave from the beginning before He created it. This
now, in a manner, so truly belongs to the soul that no
event or accident, high or low, can ever take it away,
for the soul will enjoy for ever that for which God had
predestined it from all eternity.
11. This is that which He gave it
*
the other day
'
;
that which the soul longs now to possess visibly in glory.
And what is that which He gave it ? That what
'
eye
hath not seen nor ear hath heard, neither hath it ascended
into the heart of man.'*
'
The eye hath not seen/ saith
Isaias,
'
God, beside Thee, what things Thou hast
prepared for them that expect Thee.'
f
The soul has
no word to describe it, so it says
'
what.' It is in truth
the vision of God, and as there is no expression by which
we can explain what it is to see God, the soul says only
'
that which Thou gavest me.'
12. But that I may not leave the subject without
saying something further concerning it, I will repeat what
Christ hath said of it in the Apocalypse of St, John,
in
many terms, phrases, and comparisons, because a single
word once uttered cannot describe it, for there is much
still unsaid, notwithstanding all that Christ hath spoken
at seven different times.
'
To him that overcometh,'
saith He,
'
I will give to eat of the tree of life, which
is in the paradise of My God.'
J
But as this does not
perfectly describe it, He says again :
'
Be thou faithful
unto death ; and I will give thee the crown of life.'
13.
This also is insufficient, and so He speaks again
more obscurely, but explaining it more :
'
To him that
overcometh I will give the hidden manna, and will give
him a white counter, and on the counter a new name
*
I Cor. ii. 9.
t
Isa. Ixiv.
4.
J
Apex:, ii.
7. lb. 10.
[STAN. XXXVIII.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
289
written, which no man knoweth but he that receiveth
it.'
*
And as even this is still insufficient, the Son of
God speaks of great power and joy, saying :
'
He that
shall overcome and keep My works unto the end, I will
give him power over the nations : and he shall rule them
with a rod of iron, and as a vessel of the potter they shall
be broken : as I also have received of My Father. And
I will give him the morning star.'
f
Not satisfied with
these words, He adds :
'
He that shall overcome shall
thus be vested in white garments, and I will not put his
name out of the book of life, and I will confess his name
before My Father.'
J
14.
Still, all this falls short. He speaks of it in
words of unutterable majesty and grandeur :
*
He that
shall overcome I will make him a pillar in the temple of
My God, and he shall go out no more
;
and I will write
upon him the name of My God, and the name of the city
of My God, the new Jerusalem which descendeth out
of heaven from My God, and My new name.'

The
seventh time He says :
'
He that shall overcome, I will
give unto him to sit wdth Me in My throne : as I also
have overcome, and sat with My Father in His throne.
He that hath an ear let him hear what the Spirit saith
to the Churches.
II
15.
These are the words of the Son of God
;
all of
*
Apoc. ii. 17.
t
I^- 26-28.
X
I^- ii^-
5-
J^^- ^2.
||
lb. 21, 22.
19
which tend to describe that which was given to the
soul. The words correspond most accurately with it,
but still they do not explain it, because it involves in-
finite good. The noblest expressions befit it, but none
of them reach it, no, not all together.
16. Let us now see whether David hath said anything
of it. In one of the Psalms he saith,
'
O how great is
the multitude of Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou
hast hidden for them that fear Thee.'
*
In another
place he calls it a
'
torrent of pleasure,' saying,
'
Thou
shalt make them drink of the torrent of Thy pleasure.
'f
And as he did not consider this enough, he says again,
'
Thou hast prevented him with blessings of sweetness.'
J
The expression that rightly fits this
'
that
'
of the soul,
namely, its predestined bliss, cannot be found. Let us,
therefore, rest satisfied with what the soul has used in
reference to it, and explain the words as follows :
j
'
That wh'ch Thou gavest me.'
17.
That is,
'
That weight of gloiy to which Thou
didst
predestine me, O my Bridegroom, in the day of
Thy eternity, when it was Thy good pleasure to decree
my
creation. Thou wilt then give me in my day of my
betrothal and of my nuptials, in my day of the joy of
my
heart, when, released from the burden of the flesh,
*
Ps. XXX. 20.
t
î>' XXXV.
9.
X
lb. XX.
4.
LSTAN. XXXIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 2gi
led into the deep caverns of Thy bridal chamber and
gloriously transformed in Thee, we drink the wine of
the sweet pomegranates.'
NOTE
But inasmuch as the soul, in the state of spiritual
marriage, of which I am now speaking, cannot but
know something of this
'
that,' seeing that because of
its transformation in God something of it must be ex-
perienced by it, it will not omit to say something on the
subject, the pledges and signs of which it is conscious of
in itself, as it is wTitten :
'
Who can withhold the words
He hath conceived ?
'
*
Hence in the following stanza
the soul says something of the fruition which it shall
have in the beatific vision, explaining so far as it is
possible the nature and the manner of it.
STANZA XXXIX
The breathing
of
the air,
The song
of
the sweet nightingale,
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night.
With the flame that consumes and gives no pain.
The soul refers here, under five different expressions,
to that which the Bridegroom is to give it in the beatific
*
Job
iv. 2.
292
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIX.]
transformation, i. The aspiration of the Holy Spirit
of God after it, and its own aspiration after God.
2. Joyous praise of God in the fruition of Him.
3. The
knowledge of creatures and the order of them.
4.
The
pure and clear contemplation of the divine essence.
5.
Perfect transformation in the infinite love of God.
'
The breathing of the air.'
2. Th"s is a certain faculty which God will there
give the soul in the communication of the Holy Ghost,
Who, like one breathing, ra'ses the soul by His divine
aspiration, informs it, strengthens it, so that it too may
breathe in God with the same aspiration of love which
the Father breathes \\dth the Son, and the Son with the
Father, which is the Holy Ghost Himself, Who is breathed
into the soul in the Father and the Son in that trans-
formation so as to unite it to Himself ; for the trans-
formation will not be true and perfect if the soul is not
transformed in the Three Persons of the Most Holy
Trinity in a clear manifest degree. This breathing of
the Holy Ghost in the soul, whereby God transforms it
in Himself, is to the soul a joy so deep, so exquisite, and
so grand that no mortal tongue can describe it, no
human understanding, as such, conceive it in any degree
;
for even that which passes in the soul with respect to
the communication which takes place in its transformation
[STAN, XXXIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
293
wrought in this hfe cannot be described, because the
soul united with God and transformed in Him breathes
in God that very divine aspiration which God breathes
Himself in the soul when it is transformed in Him.
3.
In the transformation which takes place in this
life, this breathing of God in the soul, and of the soul
in God, is of most frequent occurrence, and the source
of the most exquisite delight of love to the soul, but
not however in the clear and manifest degree which it
will have in the life to come. This, in my opinion, is
what St. Paul referred to when he said :
'
Because you
are sons, God hath sent the Spirit of His Son into your
hearts, crying Abba, Father.'
*
The blessed in the life
to come, and the perfect in this, thus experience it.
4.
Nor is it to be thought impossible that the soul
should be capable of so great a thing as that it should
breathe in God as God in it, in the way of participation.
For granting that God has bestowed upon it so great a
favour as to unite it to the most Holy Trinity, whereby
it becomes like unto God, and God by participation,
is it altogether incredible that it should exercise the
faculties of its understanding, perform its acts of
knowledge and of love, or, to speak more accurately,
should have it all done in the Holy Trinity together with
It, as the Holy Trinity Itself ? This, however, takes
*
Gal. iv. 6.
294
place by communication and participation, God Himself
effecting it in the soul, for this is
'
to be transformed in
the Three Persons ' in power, wisdom, and love, and
herein it is that the soul becomes like unto God, Who,
that it might come to this, created it to His own image
and likeness.
5.
How this can be so cannot be explained in any
other way than by showing how the Son of God has
raised us to so high a state, and merited for us the
'
power to be made the sons of God.'
*
He prayed to
the Father, saying :
'
Father, I will that where I am,
they also whom Thou hast given Me may be with Me,
that they may see My glory which Thou hast given
Me,'
t
That is,
'
that they may do by participation in
Us what I do naturally, namely, breathe the Holy Ghost.'
He says also :
'
Not for them only do I pray, but for
them also who through their word shall believe in Me
;
that they all may be one, as Thou, Father, in Me, and I
in Thee, that they also may be one in Us : that the
world may believe that Thou hast sent Me. And the
glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given to them :
that they may be one as We also are one. I in them
and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one,
and the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and
hast loved them as Thou hast also loved Me,'
J
that is,
*
St. John i. 12.
t
lb. xvii.
24.
J
lb. xvii. 20-23.
[STAN. XXXIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
205
in bestowing upon them that love which He bestows
upon the Son, though not naturally as upon Him, but
in the way I speak of, in the union and transformation
of love.
6. We are not to suppose from this that our Lord
prayed that the saints might become one in essence
and nature, as the Father and the Son are
;
but that
they might become one in the union of love as the Father
and the Son are one in the oneness of love. Souls have
by participation that very God which the Son has by
nature, and are therefore really gods by participation
like unto God and of His society.
j,
7.
St. Peter speaks of this as follows :
'
Grace to
you and peace be accomplished in the knowledge of
God, and Christ
Jesus our Lord
;
as all things of His
divine power, which pertain to life and godliness, are
given us by the knowledge of Him who hath called us
by His own proper glory and virtue, by Whom He hath
given us most great and precious promises : that by
these you may be made partakers of the divine nature.'
*
Thus far St. Peter, who clearly teaches that the soul will
be a partaker of God Himself, and will do, together with
Him, the work of the Most Holy Trinity, because of
the substantial union between the soul and God. And
though this union be perfect only in the life to come,
*
2 St. Pet. i. 2-4,
296
yet even in this, in the state of perfection, which the
soul is said now to have attained, some anticipation of
its sweetness is given it, in the way I am speaking of,
though in a manner wholly ineffable.
8. O souls created for this and called thereto, what
are you doing ? What are your occupations ? Your
aim is meanness, and your enjoyments misery. Oh,
wretched blindness of the children of Adam, blind to
so great a light, and deaf to so clear a voice
;
you see
not that, while seeking after greatness and glory, you
are miserable and contemptible, ignorant, and unworthy
of blessings so great.
I now proceed to the second expression which the
soul has made use of to describe that which He gave it.
'
The song of the sweet nightingale.'
9.
Out of this
'
breathing of the air
'
comes the sweet
voice of the Beloved addressing Himself to the soul, in
which the soul sends forth its o^\Tl sweet song of joy to
Him. Both are meant by the song of the nightingale.
As the song of the nightingale is heard in the spring of
the year, when the cold, and rain, and changes of winter
are past, filling the ear with melody, and the mind with
joy
;
so, in the true intercourse and transformation of
love, which takes place in this life, the bride, now
protected and delivered from all trials and changes of
297
the world, detached, and free from the imperfections,
sufferings, and darkness both of mind and body, becomes
conscious of a new spring in Hberty, largeness, and joy of
spirit, in which she hears the sweet voice of the Bride-
groom, Who is her sweet nightingale, renewing and
refreshing the very substance of her soul, now prepared
for the journey of everlasting hfe.
10. That voice is sweet to her ears, and calls her
sweetly, as it is written :
'
Arise, make haste, my love,
my dove, my beautiful one, and come. For winter is
now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have
appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come :
the
voice of the turtle is heard in our land.'
*
When the
bride hears the voice of the Bridegroom in her inmost
soul, she feels that her troubles are over and her pros-
perity begun. In the refreshing comfort and sweet sense
of this voice she, too, like the nightingale, sends forth
a new song of rejoicing unto God, in unison with Him
Who now moves her to do so.
11. It is for this that the Beloved sings, that the
bride in unison with Him may sing unto God
;
this is
the aim and desire of the Bridegroom, that the soul
should sing with the spirit joyously unto God
;
and this
is what He asks of the bride in the Canticle :
'
Arise,
my love, my beautiful one, and come
;
my dove in the
*
Cant. ii. 10-12.
298
clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, show
me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears.'
*
12. The ears of God signify the desire He hath that
the soul should sing in perfect joy. And that this song
may be perfect, the Bridegroom bids the soul to send
it forth, and to let it sound in the clefts of the rock, that
is, in the transformation which is the fruit of the
mysteries of Christ, of which I spoke just now.f , And
because in this union of the soul with God, the soul
sings unto Him together with Him, in the way I spoke
of when I was speaking of love, J the song of praise is
most perfect and pleasing unto God
;
for the acts of the
soul, in the state of perfection, are most perfect
;
and
thus the song of its rejoicing is sweet unto God as well
as to itself.
13.
'
Thy voice is sweet,'

saith the Bridegroom, ' not
only to thee, but also to Me, for as we are one, thy voice
is also in unison and one with Mine.' This is the canticle
which the soul sings in the transformation which takes
place in this life, about which no exaggeration is possible.
But as this song is not so perfect as the new song in
the life of glory, the soul, having a foretaste of that by
what it feels on earth, shadows forth by the grandeur
of this the magnificence of that in glory, which is beyond
*
Cant. ii. 13, 14. +
Stanza xxxviii.

6.
t
Stanza xxxvii.
5.
Cant. ii.
14.
299
all comparison nobler, and calls it to mind and says
that what its portion there will be is the song of the
sweet nightingale.
'
The grove and its beauty.'
14.
This is the third thing which the Bridegroom is
to give the soul. The grove, because it contains many
plants and animals, signifies God as the Creator and
Giver of life to all creatures, which have their being and
origin from Him, reveal Him and make Him known as
the Creator. The beauty of the grove, which the soul
prays for, is not only the grace, wisdom, and lovehness
which flow from God over all created things, whether in
heaven or on earth, but also the beauty of the mutual
harmony and wise arrangement of the inferior creation,
and the higher also, and of the mutual relations of both.
The knowledge of this gives the soul great joy and dehght.
The fourth request is :
'
In the serene night.'
15. That is, contemplation, in which the soul desires
to behold the grove. It is called night, because con-
templation is dim
;
and that is the reason why it is
also called mystical theologythat is, the secret or hidden
wisdom of God, where, without the sound of words, or
the intervention of any bodily or spiritual sense, as
it were in silence and in repose, in the darkness of sense
300
and nature, God teaches the souland the soul knows
not howin a most secret and hidden way.
i6. Some spiritual writers call this
'
understanding
without understanding,' because it does not take place
in what philosophers call the active understanding,
which is conversant with the forms, fancies, and appre-
hensions of the physical faculties, but in the understanding
as it is possible and passive, which without receiving
such forms, receives passively only the substantial
knowledge of them free from all imagery. This occurs
without effort or exertion on its part, and for this reason
contemplation is called n'ght, in which the soul through
the channel of its transformation learns in this life
that it already possesses, in a supreme degree, this
divine grove, together with its beauty.
17.
Still, however clear may be its knowledge, it
is dark night in comparison with that of the blessed, for
which the soul prays. Hence, while it prays for the
clear contemplation, that is, the fruition of the grove,
and its beauty with the other objects here enumerated,
it says, let it be in the night now serene
;
that is, in
the clear beatific contemplation : let the night of dim
contemplation cease here below, and change into the
clear contemplation of the serene vision of God above.
Thus the serene night is the clear and unclouded con-
templation of the face of God. It was to this night of
[STAN. XXXIX.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM 3OI
contemplation that David referred when he said,
'
Night
shall be my light in my pleasures
'
;
*
that is, when I
shall have my delight in the essential vision of God,
the night of contemplation will have dawned in the
day and light of my understanding.
'
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pain.'
18. This flame is the love of the Holy Ghost.
'
Con-
sumes
'
means absolute perfection. Therefore, when
the soul says that the Beloved will give it all that is
mentioned in this stanza, and that they will be its
possession in love absolute and perfect, all of them
and itself with them in perfect love, and that without
pain, its purpose is to show forth the utter perfection of
love. Love, to be perfect, must have these two pro-
perties : it must consume and transform the soul in
God
;
the burning and transformation wrought in the
soul by the flame must give no pain. But this can be
only in the state of the blessed, where the flame is sweet
love, for in this transformation of the soul therein there is
a blessed agreement and contentment on both sides, and
no change to a greater or less degree gives pain, as before,
when the soul had attained to the state of perfect love.
19.
But the soul having attained to this state abides
in its love of God, a love so like His and so sweet, God
*
Ps. cxxxviii. II.
302
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XXXIX.
J
being, as Moses saith,* a consuming fire
' the Lord thy

God is a consuming fire
'
that it perfects and renews it.
But this transformation is not hke that which is wrought
in this hfe, wliich though most perfect and in love con-
summate was still in some measure consuming the soul
and wearing it away. It was like fire in burning coals,
for though the coals may be transformed into fire, and
made like it, and ceased from seething, and smoke no
longer arises from them as before they were wholly trans-
formed into fire, still, though they have become perfect
fire, the fire consumes them and reduces them to ashes.
20. vSo is it with the soul which in this life is trans-
formed by perfect love : for though it be wholly con-
formed, yet it still suffers, in some measure, both pain
and loss. Pain, on account of the beatific transformation
which is still wanting
;
loss, through the weakness and
corruption of the flesh coming in contact with love so
strong and so deep : for everything that is grand hurts
and pains our natural infirmity, as it is written,
*
The
corruptible body is a load upon the soul.'f But in the
life of bliss there will be neither loss nor pain, though
the sense of the soul will be most acute, and its love
without measure, for God will give power to the former
and strength to the latter, perfecting the understanding
in His wisdom and the will in His love.
*
Deut. iv.
24.
t
Wisd. ix. 15.
[STAN, XL.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
303
21, As, in the foregoing stanzas, and in the one
which follows, the bride prays for the boundless know-
ledge of God, for which she requires the strongest and
the deepest love that she may love Him in proportion
to the grandeur of His communications, she prays now
that all these things may be bestowed upon her in love
consummated, perfect, and strong.
STANZA XL
None saw it
;
Neither did Amiiiadab appear.
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the sight
of
the waters.
The bride perceiving that the desire of her will is now
detached from all things, cleaving unto God with most
fervent love
;
that the sensual part of the soul, with
all its powers, faculties, and desires, is now conformed
to the spirit ; that all rebellion is quelled for ever
;
that
Satan is overcome and driven far away in the varied
contest of the spiritual struggle
;
that her soul is united
and transformed in the rich abundance of the heavenly
gifts
;
and that she herself is now prepared, strong
and apparelled,
'
leaning upon her Beloved,' to go up
'
by the desert
'*
of death ;
full of joy to the glorious
*
Cant. iii. 6 ;
viii.
5.
304
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XL.]
throne of her espousals,she is onging for the end, and
puts before the eyes of her Bridegroom, in order to
influence Him the more, all that is mentioned in the
present stanza, these five considerations :
2. The first is that the soul is detached from all
things and a stranger to them. The second is that the
devil is overcome and put to flight. The third is that
the passions are subdued, and the natural desires mortified.
The fourth and the fifth are that the sensual and lower
nature of the soul is changed and purified, and so con-
formed to the spiritual, as not only not to hinder spiritual
blessings, but is, on the contrary, prepared for them,
for it is even a partaker already, according to its capacity,
of those which have been bestowed upon it.
'
None saw it.'
3.
That is, my soul is so detached, so denuded, so
lonely, so estranged from all created things, in heaven
and earth
;
it has become so recollected in Thee, that
nothing whatever can come within sight of that most
intimate joy which I have in Thee. That is, there is
nothing whatever that can cause me pleasure with its
sweetness, or disgust with its vileness
;
for my soul is
so far removed from all such things, absorbed in such
profound delight in Thee, that nothing can behold me.
This is not all, for :
[STAN. XL.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
305
'
Neither did Aminadab appear.'
4.
Aminadab, in the Holy Writings, signifies the
devil ; that is the enemy of the soul, in a spiritual sense,
who is ever fighting against it, and disturbing it with
his innumerable artillery, that it may not enter into the
fortress and secret place of interior recollection with the
Bridegroom. There, the soul is so protected, so strong,
so triumphant in virtue which it then practises, so
defended by God's right hand, that the devil not only
dares not approach it, but runs away from it in great
fear, and does not venture to appear. The practice of
virtue, and the state of perfection to which the soul
has come, is a victory over Satan, and causes him such
terror that he cannot present himself before it. Thus
Aminadab appeared not with any right to keep the soul
away from the object of its desire.
'
The siege was intermitted.'
5.
By the siege is meant the passions and desires,
which, when not overcome and mortified, surround the
soul and fight against it on all sides. Hence the term
'
siege' is applied to them. This siege is
'
intermitted
'
that is, the passions are subject to reason, and the desires
mortified. Under these circumstances the soul entreats
the Beloved to communicate to it those graces for which
it has prayed, for now the siege is no hindrance. Until
20
306
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE [STAN. XL.]
the four passions of the soul are ordered in reason
according to God, and until the desires are mortified
and purified, the soul is incapable of seeing God.
'
The cavalry dismounted at the sight of the waters.'
6. The waters are the spiritual joys and blessings
which the soul now enjoys interiorly with God. The
cavalry is the bodily senses of the sensual part, interior
as well as exterior, for they carry with them the phantasms
and figures of their objects. They dismount now at the
sight of the waters, because the sensual and lower part
of the soul in the state of spiritual marriage is purified,
and in a certain way spiritualised, so that the soul with
its powers of sense and natural forces becomes so re-
collected as to participate and rejoice, in their way, in
the spiritual grandeurs which God communicates to it
in the spirit within. To this did the Psalmist refer when
he said,
'
My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the
living God.'*
7.
It is to be observed that the cavalry did not
dismount to taste of the waters, but only at the sight
of them, because the sensual part of the soul, with its
powers, is incapable of tasting substantially and properly
the spiritual blessings, not merely in this life, but also
in the life to come. Still, because of a certain over-
*
Ps. IxxKui.
3,
[STAN. XL.] OF THE SOUL AND ITS BRIDEGROOM
307
flowing of the spirit, they are sensibly refreshed and
dehghted, and this dehght attracts themthat is, the
senses with their bodily powerstowards that interior
recollection where the soul is drinking the waters of the
spiritual benedictions. This condition of the senses is
rather a dismounting at the sight of the waters than
a dismounting for the purpose of seeing or tasting them.
The soul says of them that they dismounted, not that
they went, or did anything else, and the meaning is
that in the communication of the sensual with the spiritual
part of the soul, when the spiritual waters become its
drink, the natural operations subside and merge into
spiritual recollection.
8. All these perfections and dispositions of the soul
the bride sets forth before her Beloved, the Son of God,
longing at the same time to be translated by Him out
of the spiritual marriage, to which God has been pleased
to advance her in the Church militant, to the glorious
marriage of the Church triumphant. Whereunto may
He bring of His mercy all those who call upon the most
sweet name of Jesus, the Bridegroom of faithful souls,
to Whom be all honour and glory, together with the
Father and the Holy Ghost,
IN S/ECULA S^CULORUM.
INDEX TO PASSAGES FROM HOLY
SCRIPTURE
1. 31 :
ii.
24
vi. 21
Genesis
They were very good, 52
Two in one flesh,
172
All food that may be eaten,
107
viii.
9 : Where her foot might rest,
104
XXX. I : Give me children,
59
Exodus
iii.
7
: The affliction of My people,
35
xxxiii. 13 : I know thee by name,
79. 254
20 : Shall not see Me and
live,
79, 279
22 : In a hole of the rock, 22
23
: Not see My face, 22, 152
xxxiv. 30 : The face of Moses, 141
Deuteronomium
iv.
24 : A consuming fire,
302
XXX. 20 : He is thy life,
36
xxxi. 21: I know their thoughts,
34
xxxii.
33
: Venom of asps,
37
Judges
xiii. 22 : We shall die, 81
xvi. 15 : Thy mind is not with me,
25
I Kings
xviii. I ; Soul knit with the soul,
239
2 Kings
xiv. 14 : All die,
14
3
Kings
xix. II : Whisper of a gentle wind,
116
I Paralipomenon
xi. 18 : Waters of Bethlehem,
93
Tobias
V. 12 :
310 INDEX TO PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE
Psalms
ix, lo : A helper in due time,
35
XV.
4
: Mindful of their names, 251
xvi. 15 : When thy glory shall
appear, 26
xvii. 12, 13 : The clouds passed,
24. 94
xviii. 10 : Sweeter than honey,
273
XX.
4
: Blessings of sweetness, 290
xxx. 20 : Multitude of Thy sweet-
ness, 290
xxxiii. 8 : The angel of the Lord,
129
20 : Tribulations of the just,
44
22 : The death of the wicked,
84
xxxiv.
3
: I am thy salvation,
36
XXXV. 9 : Torrent of thy pleasure,
36, 199, 290
xxxvii. II : The light of mine
eyes,
74
xxxviii.
4
: My heart waxed hot,
161, 195
xli. I : As the hart panteth,
93
xliv. 10 : In vestments of gold,
234
xlix. II : The beauty of the field,
182
liii.
5
: The mighty have thought,
45
Iviii. 10 : I will keep my strength,
221
Ixi. 2 : From Him is my salvation,
215
II : If riches abound,
43
Ixii. 2 : My soul hath thirsted, 131
Ixvii. 14 : Laid over with silver, 80
16 : The mountain of God,
273
34
: The voice of power, 112
Ixviii. 2 : Save me, O God, 161
Ixxii. 21 : My heart is inflamed, 28,
209
Ixxxiii.
3
: My soul longeth,
78, 306
4
: The turtle a nest, 264
xcvi. 2 : Clouds and darkness,
94
ci. 8 : The lonely sparrow, 122
cxv.
15 : Death of His saints,
84
cxviii.
32 : The way of Thy com-
mandments, 192
131: I opened my mouth,161
cxxxviii. II : Night shall be my
light, 301
12 : The darkness as the
light,
94
cxliv. 16 : Thou openest Thy hand,
53
Proverbs
ii.
4
: Seek Him as treasure,
75
iv.
23 : Keep thy heart, 22
viii. 31 : My delights with the
children of men,
143,183
XV. 15 : A secure mind, 167
xxx. 2 : The wisdom of men, 206
ECCLESIASTES
ix. I : Worthy of love or hatred,
17
CANTICLE OF CANTICLES
i.
3
: Draw me, 192,
234
4
: I am black,
255
6 : Where thou liest in the mid-
day,
17
10 : Chains of gold, 89
1
1
: My spikenard sent forth its
odour, 142, 235
15 : Our bed is of flowers, 183
ii. I : The flower of the field, 181,
239
3
: I sat down under his shadow,
261
4
: The cellar of wine, 203
5
: Stay me with flowers, 238
6 : His left hand under my head,
199
9 : My beloved is like to a roe,
27
10 : Arise, my dove,
297
1
1
: Winter is now passed,
1
77
13 : Arise, my dove, 279,
298
INDEX TO PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE
311
14 : Thy voice is sweet, 113, 298
15 : Catch us the foxes,
133
iii. I : I will arise,
40
2 : Whom my soul loveth,
31
4
: The watchman,
40
5
: I adjure you, 169, 223
6 : By the desert,
303
7
: Three score valiants, 189
9
: A litter of the wood of
Libanus, 188
11 : Ye daughters of Sion, 170
iv. I : Thou art fair,
257, 259
4
: The tower of David, 190
6 : The mountain of myrrh,
272
9 : Thou hast wounded my
heart, 58,
244
12 : A garden enclosed, 169
16 : Arise, north wind, 142
V. I : O my sister, my bride,
174
4
: Put his hand through the
opening, 193
6 : I sought him,
31, 72, 202
7:
They wounded me,
31, 72
8 : I languish with love,
58
14 : Belly of ivory, 281
vi. 2 : Feedeth among the lilies,
144, 230
3
: Terrible as an army, 238, 257
4
: Turn them away, 118
9 : Who is she that cometh, 166
II : I knew not, 132, 207
vii. I : She steps in shoes, 238
ID : I to my beloved, 212
13 : The new and the old, 222
viii. i: Find thee without, 176, 185
2 : Cup of spiced wine, 202, 282
5
: Under the apple tree,
179,
303
6 : As a seal upon thy heart,
92, 93
8 : Our sister is little,
155
WÎSDOM
i,
7
: Knowledge of the voice, 125
vi. 13 : Wisdom is clear,
41
viii. I : End unto end, i
ix.
15 : The corruptible body, 150,
302
ECCLESIASTICUS
V.
5
: Sin forgiven, 250
ix.
14 : Forsake not an old friend,
15
xli
xliii.
3
xlv.
3
15
A new friend,
197
O death, how bitter,
84
3
: To the needy man,
83
ISAIAS
ii. 2 : The mountain of the house,
271
3
: Let us go up to the mountain,
271
xi.
3
: The spirit of fear, 201
xxiv. 16 : My secret to myself, 119
xxvi. 20 : Enter into thy chambers,
22
Egypt for thy atonement,
256
Honourable in my eyes,
254
Mysteries of secret, 22
Thou art a hidden God, 16
Iviii. 10 : Thy light shall arise,
267
Ixiv.
4
: Eye hath not seen, 288
Ixv.
24 : Before they call,
75
Ixvi. 12 : A river of peace, iii, 212
Jeremias
ii. 14 : Is Israel a bondman,
145
Lamentations
iii. 19 : The wormwood and the
gall, 36
Baruch
iii. II : Defiled with the dead,
145
EzECHIEL
i. 24 : Of many waters, 113
xvi.
5 : Thou wert cast out, 181
xviii. 22 : I will not remember, 250
Daniel
X. 16 : My joints are loosed, 120
312
OSEE
ii. 14
: I will speak to her heart, 262
20 : I will espouse thee, 87
Nahum
i, 9
: A double affliction, 250
SOPHONIAS
i. 12 : Search Jerusalem, 14
Zacharias
ii. 8 : He that shall touch you,
75
St. Matthew
V. 26 : Repay the last farthing, 14
vi. 6 : Pray in secret, 21
24
: Serve two masters, 228
vii. 14 : How narrow is the gate, 14
X.
33
: Deny Me before men, 227
xiii. 12 : He that hath to him shall
be given, 256
44
: Treasure hidden in a
field, 21, 216
xvi. 25 : Lose his life for My sake,
229
XX. 6 : The eleventh hour,
14
XXV. 28 : Take away the talent, 256
St. Luke
i. 13 : Thy prayer is heard,
35
52 : Exalted the humble, in
ii. 25 : Just man full of fear, 201
X.
42 : One thing necessary, 222
xi.
9
: Seek and you shall find,
39
xii.
37
: He will gird himself, 212
XV.
5
: The sheep that was lost, 169
9 : Rejoice with me, 169
xvii. 21 : The kingdom of God
within, 20
xxii. 8 : Sent His apostles, 141
St. John
i.
3
: What was made in Him was
life, 64,
108
12 : Made the sons of God,
294
16 : Grace for grace,
247, 253
18 : Bosom of the Father, 16
ii.
3
: They have no wine,
37
iv. 14 : A well of water, 88, 164
vii.
39
: Who believed in Him, 88
xi.
3
: Whom Thou lovest is sick,38
xii. 29 : Angel hath spoken, 112
32 : If I be lifted up,
52
XV.
7
: If you abide in Me,
25
15 : I have called you friends,
217
xvii.
3
: This is eternal life, 276
10 : All My things are Thine,
270
20 : Not for them only do I
pray,
294
24 : May see My glory,
294
XX.
15 : Where thou hast laid Him,
71
Acts
ii. 2 : As of a mighty wind, 112
xvii. 28 : In Him we live,
64
Romans
i. 20 : His invisible things.
47
viii. 13 : Deeds of the flesh,
46
14 : Led by the Spirit of God,
265
23 : Waiting for the adoption,
27
26 : With groanings unutter-
able, I
xi.
33:
Incomprehensible His judg-
ments, 273
I Corinthians
ii. 9 : Eye hath not seen, 288
14 : The deep things of God, 206
iii. 19 : Wisdom of this world,
205
vi. 17 : He who is joined to the
Lord, 1
73
X.
4
: The rock is Christ,
277
xiii. 2 : Without charity nothing
worth, 103
4
: Charity is patient, 104
313
6 : Rejoiceth with the truth,
104
10 : That which is perfect, 22,
90
12:1 shall know as I am
known,
284
2 Corinthians
V.
4
: Not spoiled but overclothed,
81
vi. 16 : Temple of the living God,
20
xii.
3
: In the body or out of the
body,
99
4
: Secret words, 116, 150,
153
9 : Virtue made perfect,
232
Galatians
ii. 20 : I live now, 91,
175
iv. 6 : The spirit of His Son,
293
V. 17 : The flesh lusteth,
45,
131
Ephesians
ii. 15 : The law of commandments,
178
iii. 17 : Rooted in charity,
275
vi. II : The armour of God,
45
Philippians
i. 21 : To die is gain, 229
23 : To be with Christ, 81
iv.
7
: The peace of God, 167
COLOSSIANS
ii.
3
: The treasures of wisdom,
36,
278
iii. 14 : The bond of perfection
,
103, 216, 236, 239
Hebrews
i.
3
: Brightness of His glory,
51,
85
St. James
i. 17 : Every best gift,
234
1 St. Peter
iv. 18 : Shall scarcely be saved,
14
2 St. Peter
i. 2 : Partakers of the divine
nature,
295
I St. John
iv. 10 : He first loved us,
243
18 : Perfect charity, 82, 188
Apocalypse
ii.
7
: To him that overcometh, 288
10 : Be thou faithful unto death,
288
17
: The hidden manna, 289
26 : And keep My works, 289
iii.
5
: Vested in white garments,
289
12 : My new name, 289
20 : I stand at the gate, 126
21 : To sit on My throne, 289
X. 9 : Take the book,
37
xiv. 2 : The voice of harpers, 113,
125
xxi.
23 : The Lamb is the lamp,
74
xxii. i: A river of living water,
199
INDEX
Absence, pain of,
32,
53
Adam, fall of, 178
Adoption, 270
Altruism, 190
Aminadab, 132, 305
Angels, service of,
59
Aridity, remedy against, 137 ;
good works performed in time
of, 232
Ark, the, 104, 259
Attraction, the divine, 192
Balsam, the divine, 192
Beauty, the divine, 271
Bed of the soul, 181
Beginners, likened to new wine, 196
Betrothal, the spiritual, 105, 144 ;
time of, 171 ; effects of, 213
Breathing, the divine, 292
Bridegroom, the, among the flowers,
143
; captivity of, 242 ; solitude
of, 265 ; beauty of, 269
Charity, effects of, 104 ;
purple
robe of, 187 ; bond of perfection,
236
Confirmation in grace, 172
Contemplation, effects of, loi
;
not granted to all spiritual per-
sons, 101 ; mystical theology, 213
;
why called night,
299
Contempt, 252
Courage, true, rare,
227
Creation, meditation on,
47
; the
work of God only, 48 ; testimony
of,
50
; beauty of,
52 ;
a
revelation, 62 ; a manifestation
of God, 124
Cross, the, betrothal of,
179
Dalila, treachery of,
25
David and Jonathan, 239
Death, 82 ; why the soul desires,
275
Deification, 204
Detachment, perfect, 135, 176,
220, 265,
304
Dionysius, St., 117
Distractions, 157
Dove, the, 258
Ecstasies, source of, 96 ;
sufferings
of the soul in,
97,
118
;
cessation
of,
99
Elias, St., 116
Eternity, day of, 287
Faith, sole means of union with
God, 86 ; crystal spring, 87
Flight of the soul, 102
Foxes, the spiritual, 130 ;
opera-
tions of, 131
Francis, St., saying of, 108
Garden, the, of the Beloved,
139,
173
Garlands, the,
233
315
3i6 INDEX
Glory, essential, 286
God hidden, 16 ; visits to the
soul, 28 ; how to be sought,
40, 42 ;
greatest works of, 58 ;
light of the soul,
74
; the guide
of the perfect soul, 261
;
judg-
ments of,
277
Groanings of the soul, 26, 32
Heart, the, satisfaction of, 262
Hope, when painless, 163
Imperfections of the advanced, 210
Incarnation, the,
52
Inebriation, the divine,
194
Judgments of God,
277
Knowledge and love, 271 ; of the
just in heaven,
273
; the divine,
273
Knowledge, supernatural, 271 ;
worldly,
274
Life, active and contemplative,
41 ; natural and spiritual,
64
Limbus, 82
Look, the divine,
242, 256
Love, wounds of,
27 ; sufferings
of,
35
; tests of love of God,
68 ; love the reward of,
69,
104 ; anxieties of,
72 ; malady
of,
83 ; causes equality, 185,
217; visit of, 191 ; solitary,
224 ;
perfect, 286, 301 ;
property
of, 286, 301
Manue, 81
Marriage, the spiritual,
92, 154,
170, 201, 266
Mary Magdalene, St.,
71, 224
Merit,
2
48
Mysteries of God,
277
Neck, the, of the bride,
175
Night, difficulties of,
43
Nightingale, song of the, 296
Noe, 104, 106
Nymphs, the, of Judea, 146
Paradise, flowers of,
49
Passions, the effects of, 210
Paul, St., vision of, 150
Perfection, form and substance of,
216
Pomegranates, 280 ; wine of, 281
Prayer,
25,
37
Preachers, popular,
224
Predestination, 282
Presence of God in the soul,
75
Proficients, liable to ecstasies,
99
Rapture, 96
Satan, power of,
45, 129 ; afraid of
perfect soul, 184 ; overcome, 303'
Sin forgiven, 250
Solitude, 262
Soul, longings of,
15 ; wounds of,
29 ;
presence of God in,
77 ;
health of,
84 ;
greatest trial of.
136
Sparrow, the lonely, 122
Supper, the spiritual, 126
Sweetness, spiritual, effects of, 191
Teresa, St., writings of, loo^
Terrors of the night, 161, 166
Theology, mystic, 213, 299 ;
scolas-
tic,
4
Thirst, the living, 18, 92
Torrents, no; of delight, 199
Touch, the divine, 28, 114, 193
Transformation, effects of, 202,
206, 283, 302
Trinity, 292
Truths of the faith,
90 ; the
beatific, 291
Understanding without understand-
ing, 300
INDEX
317
Union, divine, the highest state in
this hfe, 23, 284 ; when perfect,
286; actual and habitual,
135, 204
Virtues acquired in youth, 232
;
unity of, 240
Visions, two, fatal to man, 80
Voice, interior, 11
1
Waters, the divine, i
Wine, 196
Wisdom, the divine,
4 ;
of God
and the world, 206
World, the wisdom of, 226
Wounds, of the soul, remedy for,
30 ;
pain of,
55 ; effects of,
65,
66
Printed by HascH, Watsott
&
Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
Date Due
-.-^..t^^m^ iMlii
Pnncelon Theological Seminary-Speef Library
1 1012 01004 3646

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What is the book about?

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m^

though I intend to profit by all thisunless I can con-

^the spiritual marriage. They

2 Kings xiv. 14. ||

so far as that is possibleand quench its thirst with that

protected by the right hand of God, it will merit the

I Cor. xiii. 10. || Exod. xxxiii. 2Z, 23.

' My Beloved is like unto

trials, temptations, tribulations, and afflictions of divers

give Thyself by Thyself now. Some-

with a certain profound knowledge, in which they feel

-that is, evil

^yea, and even chastisements such as He shall be pleased

has an evidence in himself that he has some love, because

for faith is, as theologians say, an obscure habitso

for faith is a veil over the truths of Godand reveal

while it is drawing nearer and nearer to Himand also

' Turn them away.'

' return from that flight

that is, that He proceeds by the will from the contempla-

' the hair of my flesh stood upright

' \\'hose countenance I

accepts thereby a great service. All this takes place

and those who dwell in the higher part, which is the

yet not perfectly so in this life, though still

a life where God sees nothing displeasing, and where the

Hung with purple.

which is at variance with the will of God. The first

that is, lovesaith the Apostle,

what must be the strength of the soul that is clothed

10. Well mayest Thou then, O God, gaze upon and

yea, until it finds Him

the sapphire being a precious stone of the colour of the

' the Lord thy

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