Of
the imperfections into which beginners fall with respect to the sin
of wrath.
BY reason
of the concupiscence which many beginners have for spiritual consolations,
their experience of these consolations is very commonly accompanied
by many imperfections proceeding from the sin of wrath; for, when their
delight and pleasure in spiritual things come to an end, they naturally
become embittered, and bear that lack of sweetness which they have
to suffer with a bad grace, which affects all that they do; and they
very easily become irritated over the smallest matter--sometimes, indeed,
none can tolerate them. This frequently happens after they have been
very pleasantly recollected in prayer according to sense; when their
pleasure and delight therein come to an end, their nature is naturally
vexed and disappointed, just as is the child when they take it from
the breast of which it was enjoying the sweetness. There is no sin
in this natural vexation, when it is not permitted to indulge itself,
but only imperfection, which must be purged by the aridity and severity
of the dark night.
2. There
are other of these spiritual persons, again, who fall into another
kind of spiritual wrath: this happens when they become irritated at
the sins of others, and keep watch on those others with a sort of uneasy
zeal. At times the impulse comes to them to reprove them angrily, and
occasionally they go so far as to indulge it[39] and
set themselves up as masters of virtue. All this is contrary to spiritual
meekness.
3. There
are others who are vexed with themselves when they observe their own
imperfectness, and display an impatience that is not humility; so impatient
are they about this that they would fain be saints in a day. Many of
these persons purpose to accomplish a great deal and make grand resolutions;
yet, as they are not humble and have no misgivings about themselves,
the more resolutions they make, the greater is their fall and the greater
their annoyance, since they have not the patience to wait for that
which God will give them when it pleases Him; this likewise is contrary
to the spiritual meekness aforementioned, which cannot be wholly remedied
save by the purgation of the dark night. Some souls, on the other hand,
are so patient as regards the progress which they desire that God would
gladly see them less so.
Of
imperfections with respect to spiritual gluttony.
WITH respect
to the fourth sin, which is spiritual gluttony, there is much to be
said, for there is scarce one of these beginners who, however satisfactory
his progress, falls not into some of the many imperfections which come
to these beginners with respect to this sin, on account of the sweetness
which they find at first in spiritual exercises. For many of these,
lured by the sweetness and pleasure which they find in such exercises,
strive more after spiritual sweetness than after spiritual purity and
discretion, which is that which God regards and accepts throughout
the spiritual journey.[40] Therefore,
besides the imperfections into which the seeking for sweetness of this
kind makes them fall, the gluttony which they now have makes them continually
go to extremes, so that they pass beyond the limits of moderation within
which the virtues are acquired and wherein they have their being. For
some of these persons, attracted by the pleasure which they find therein,
kill themselves with penances, and others weaken themselves with fasts,
by performing more than their frailty can bear, without the order or
advice of any, but rather endeavouring to avoid those whom they should
obey in these matters; some, indeed, dare to do these things even though
the contrary has been commanded them.
2. These
persons are most imperfect and unreasonable; for they set bodily penance
before subjection and obedience, which is penance according to reason
and discretion, and therefore a sacrifice more acceptable and pleasing
to God than any other. But such one-sided penance is no more than the
penance of beasts, to which they are attracted, exactly like beasts,
by the desire and pleasure which they find therein. Inasmuch as all
extremes are vicious, and as in behaving thus such persons[41] are
working their own will, they grow in vice rather than in virtue; for,
to say the least, they are acquiring spiritual gluttony and pride in
this way, through not walking in obedience. And many of these the devil
assails, stirring up this gluttony in them through the pleasures and
desires which he increases within them, to such an extent that, since
they can no longer help themselves, they either change or vary or add
to that which is commanded them, as any obedience in this respect is
so bitter to them. To such an evil pass have some persons come that,
simply because it is through obedience that they engage in these exercises,
they lose the desire and devotion to perform them, their only desire
and pleasure being to do what they themselves are inclined to do, so
that it would probably be more profitable for them not to engage in
these exercises at all.
3. You
will find that many of these persons are very insistent with their
spiritual masters to be granted that which they desire, extracting
it from them almost by force; if they be refused it they become as
peevish as children and go about in great displeasure, thinking that
they are not serving God when they are not allowed to do that which
they would. For they go about clinging to their own will and pleasure,
which they treat as though it came from God;[42] and
immediately their directors[43] take
it from them, and try to subject them to the will of God, they become
peevish, grow faint-hearted and fall away. These persons think that
their own satisfaction and pleasure are the satisfaction and service
of God.
4. There
are others, again, who, because of this gluttony, know so little of
their own unworthiness and misery and have thrust so far from them
the loving fear and reverence which they owe to the greatness of God,
that they hesitate not to insist continually that their confessors
shall allow them to communicate often. And, what is worse, they frequently
dare to communicate without the leave and consent[44] of
the minister and steward of Christ, merely acting on their own opinion,
and contriving to conceal the truth from him. And for this reason,
because they desire to communicate continually, they make their confessions
carelessly,[45] being
more eager to eat than to eat cleanly and perfectly, although it would
be healthier and holier for them had they the contrary inclination
and begged their confessors not to command them to approach the altar
so frequently: between these two extremes, however, the better way
is that of humble resignation. But the boldness referred to is[46] a
thing that does great harm, and men may fear to be punished for such
temerity.
5. These
persons, in communicating, strive with every nerve to obtain some kind
of sensible sweetness and pleasure, instead of humbly doing reverence
and giving praise within themselves to God. And in such wise do they
devote themselves to this that, when they have received no pleasure
or sweetness in the senses, they think that they have accomplished
nothing at all. This is to judge God very unworthily; they have not
realized that the least of the benefits which come from this Most Holy
Sacrament is that which concerns the senses; and that the invisible
part of the grace that it bestows is much greater; for, in order that
they may look at it with the eyes of faith, God oftentimes withholds
from them these other consolations and sweetnesses of sense. And thus
they desire to feel and taste God as though He were comprehensible
by them and accessible to them, not only in this, but likewise in other
spiritual practices. All this is very great imperfection and completely
opposed to the nature of God, since it is Impurity in faith.
6. These
persons have the same defect as regards the practice of prayer, for
they think that all the business of prayer consists in experiencing
sensible pleasure and devotion and they strive to obtain this by great
effort,[47] wearying
and fatiguing their faculties and their heads; and when they have not
found this pleasure they become greatly discouraged, thinking that
they have accomplished nothing. Through these efforts they lose true
devotion and spirituality, which consist in perseverance, together
with patience and humility and mistrust of themselves, that they may
please God alone. For this reason, when they have once failed to find
pleasure in this or some other exercise, they have great disinclination
and repugnance to return to it, and at times they abandon it. They
are, in fact, as we have said, like children, who are not influenced
by reason, and who act, not from rational motives, but from inclination.[48] Such
persons expend all their effort in seeking spiritual pleasure and consolation;
they never tire therefore, of reading books; and they begin, now one
meditation, now another, in their pursuit of this pleasure which they
desire to experience in the things of God. But God, very justly, wisely
and lovingly, denies it to them, for otherwise this spiritual gluttony
and inordinate appetite would breed in numerable evils. It is, therefore,
very fitting that they should enter into the dark night, whereof we
shall speak,[49] that
they may be purged from this childishness.
7. These
persons who are thus inclined to such pleasures have another very great
imperfection, which is that they are very weak and remiss in journeying
upon the hard[50] road
of the Cross; for the soul that is given to sweetness naturally has
its face set against all self-denial, which is devoid of sweetness.[51]
8. These
persons have many other imperfections which arise hence, of which in
time the Lord heals them by means of temptations, aridities and other
trials, all of which are part of the dark night. All these I will not
treat further here, lest I become too lengthy; I will only say that
spiritual temperance and sobriety lead to another and a very different
temper, which is that of mortification, fear and submission in all
things. It thus becomes clear that the perfection and worth of things
consist not in the multitude and the pleasantness of one's actions,
but in being able to deny oneself in them; this such persons must endeavour
to compass, in so far as they may, until God is pleased to purify them
indeed, by bringing them[52] into
the dark night, to arrive at which I am hastening on with my account
of these imperfections.
Of
imperfections with respect to spiritual envy and sloth.
WITH respect
likewise to the other two vices, which are spiritual envy and sloth,
these beginners fail not to have many imperfections. For, with respect
to envy, many of them are wont to experience movements of displeasure
at the spiritual good of others, which cause them a certain sensible
grief at being outstripped upon this road, so that they would prefer
not to hear others praised; for they become displeased at others' virtues
and sometimes they cannot refrain from contradicting what is said in
praise of them, depreciating it as far as they can; and their annoyance
thereat grows[53] because
the same is not said of them, for they would fain be preferred in everything.
All this is clean contrary to charity, which, as Saint Paul says, rejoices
in goodness.[54] And,
if charity has any envy, it is a holy envy, comprising grief at not
having the virtues of others, yet also joy because others have them,
and delight when others outstrip us in the service of God, wherein
we ourselves are so remiss.
2. With
respect also to spiritual sloth, beginners are apt to be irked by the
things that are most spiritual, from which they flee because these
things are incompatible with sensible pleasure. For, as they are so
much accustomed to sweetness in spiritual things, they are wearied
by things in which they find no sweetness. If once they failed to find
in prayer the satisfaction which their taste required (and after all
it is well that God should take it from them to prove them), they would
prefer not to return to it: sometimes they leave it; at other times
they continue it unwillingly. And thus because of this sloth they abandon
the way of perfection (which is the way of the negation of their will
and pleasure for God's sake) for the pleasure and sweetness of their
own will, which they aim at satisfying in this way rather than the
will of God.
3. And
many of these would have God will that which they themselves will,
and are fretful at having to will that which He wills, and find it
repugnant to accommodate their will to that of God. Hence it happens
to them that oftentimes they think that that wherein they find not
their own will and pleasure is not the will of God; and that, on the
other hand, when they themselves find satisfaction, God is satisfied.
Thus they measure God by themselves and not themselves by God, acting
quite contrarily to that which He Himself taught in the Gospel, saying:
That he who should lose his will for His sake, the same should gain
it; and he who should desire to gain it, the same should lose it.[55]
4. These
persons likewise find it irksome when they are commanded to do that
wherein they take no pleasure. Because they aim at spiritual sweetness
and consolation, they are too weak to have the fortitude and bear the
trials of perfection.[56] They
resemble those who are softly nurtured and who run fretfully away from
everything that is hard, and take offense at the Cross, wherein consist
the delights of the spirit. The more spiritual a thing is, the more
irksome they find it, for, as they seek to go about spiritual matters
with complete freedom and according to the inclination of their will,
it causes them great sorrow and repugnance to enter upon the narrow
way, which, says Christ, is the way of life.[57]
5. Let
it suffice here to have described these imperfections, among the many
to be found in the lives of those that are in this first state of beginners,
so that it may be seen how greatly they need God to set them in the
state of proficients. This He does by bringing them into the dark night
whereof we now speak; wherein He weans them from the breasts of these
sweetnesses and pleasures, gives them pure aridities and inward darkness,
takes from them all these irrelevances and puerilities, and by very
different means causes them to win the virtues. For, however assiduously
the beginner practises the mortification in himself of all these actions
and passions of his, he can never completely succeed--very far from
it--until God shall work it in him passively by means of the purgation
of the said night. Of this I would fain speak in some way that may
be profitable; may God, then, be pleased to give me His Divine light,
because this is very needful in a night that is so dark and a matter
that is so difficult to describe and to expound.
The line,
then, is:
Wherein
is expounded the first line of the first stanza, and a beginning is
made of the explanation of this dark night.
THIS night,
which, as we say, is contemplation, produces in spiritual persons two
kinds of darkness or purgation, corresponding to the two parts of man's
nature--namely, the sensual and the spiritual. And thus the one night
or purgation will be sensual, wherein the soul is purged according
to sense, which is subdued to the spirit; and the other is a night
or purgation which is spiritual, wherein the soul is purged and stripped
according to the spirit, and subdued and made ready for the union of
love with God. The night of sense is common and comes to many: these
are the beginners; and of this night we shall speak first. The night
of the spirit is the portion of very few, and these are they that are
already practised and proficient, of whom we shall treat hereafter.
2. The
first purgation or night is bitter and terrible to sense, as we shall
now show.[58] The
second bears no comparison with it, for it is horrible and awful to
the spirit, as we shall show[59] presently.
Since the night of sense is first in order and comes first, we shall
first of all say something about it briefly, since more is written
of it, as of a thing that is more common; and we shall pass on to treat
more fully of the spiritual night, since very little has been said
of this, either in speech[60] or
in writing, and very little is known of it, even by experience.
3. Since,
then, the conduct of these beginners upon the way of God is ignoble,[61] and
has much to do with their love of self and their own inclinations,
as has been explained above, God desires to lead them farther. He seeks
to bring them out of that ignoble kind of love to a higher degree of
love for Him, to free them from the ignoble exercises of sense and
meditation (wherewith, as we have said, they go seeking God so unworthily
and in so many ways that are unbefitting), and to lead them to a kind
of spiritual exercise wherein they can commune with Him more abundantly
and are freed more completely from imperfections. For they have now
had practice for some time in the way of virtue and have persevered
in meditation and prayer, whereby, through the sweetness and pleasure
that they have found therein, they have lost their love of the things
of the world and have gained some degree of spiritual strength in God;
this has enabled them to some extent to refrain from creature desires,
so that for God's sake they are now able to suffer a light burden and
a little aridity without turning back to a time[62] which
they found more pleasant. When they are going about these spiritual
exercises with the greatest delight and pleasure, and when they believe
that the sun of Divine favour is shining most brightly upon them, God
turns all this light of theirs into darkness, and shuts against them
the door and the source of the sweet spiritual water which they were
tasting in God whensoever and for as long as they desired. (For, as
they were weak and tender, there was no door closed to them, as Saint
John says in the Apocalypse, iii, 8). And thus He leaves them so completely
in the dark that they know not whither to go with their sensible imagination
and meditation; for they cannot advance a step in meditation, as they
were wont to do afore time, their inward senses being submerged in
this night, and left with such dryness that not only do they experience
no pleasure and consolation in the spiritual things and good exercises
wherein they were wont to find their delights and pleasures, but instead,
on the contrary, they find insipidity and bitterness in the said things.
For, as I have said, God now sees that they have grown a little, and
are becoming strong enough to lay aside their swaddling clothes and
be taken from the gentle breast; so He sets them down from His arms
and teaches them to walk on their own feet; which they feel to be very
strange, for everything seems to be going wrong with them.
4. To
recollected persons this commonly happens sooner after their beginnings
than to others, inasmuch as they are freer from occasions of backsliding,
and their desires turn more quickly from the things of the world, which
is necessary if they are to begin to enter this blessed night of sense.
Ordinarily no great time passes after their beginnings before they
begin to enter this night of sense; and the great majority of them
do in fact enter it, for they will generally be seen to fall into these
aridities.
5. With
regard to this way of purgation of the senses, since it is so common,
we might here adduce a great number of quotations from Divine Scripture,
where many passages relating to it are continually found, particularly
in the Psalms and the Prophets. However, I do not wish to spend time
upon these, for he who knows not how to look for them there will find
the common experience of this purgation to be sufficient.
Of
the signs by which it will be known that the spiritual person is walking
along the way of this night and purgation of sense.
BUT since
these aridities might frequently proceed, not from the night and purgation
of the sensual desires aforementioned, but from sins and imperfections,
or from weakness and lukewarmness, or from some bad humour or indisposition
of the body, I shall here set down certain signs by which it may be
known if such aridity proceeds from the aforementioned purgation, or
if it arises from any of the aforementioned sins. For the making of
this distinction I find that there are three principal signs.
2. The
first is whether, when a soul finds no pleasure or consolation in the
things of God, it also fails to find it in any thing created; for,
as God sets the soul in this dark night to the end that He may quench
and purge its sensual desire, He allows it not to find attraction or
sweetness in anything whatsoever. In such a case it may be considered
very probable[63] that
this aridity and insipidity proceed not from recently committed sins
or imperfections. For, if this were so, the soul would feel in its
nature some inclination or desire to taste other things than those
of God; since, whenever the desire is allowed indulgence in any imperfection,
it immediately feels inclined thereto, whether little or much, in proportion
to the pleasure and the love that it has put into it. Since, however,
this lack of enjoyment in things above or below might proceed from
some indisposition or melancholy humour, which oftentimes makes it
impossible for the soul to take pleasure in anything, it becomes necessary
to apply the second sign and condition.
3. The
second sign whereby a man may believe himself to be experiencing the
said purgation is that the memory is ordinarily centred upon God, with
painful care and solicitude, thinking that it is not serving God, but
is backsliding, because it finds itself without sweetness in the things
of God. And in such a case it is evident that this lack of sweetness
and this aridity come not from weakness and lukewarmness; for it is
the nature of lukewarmness not to care greatly or to have any inward
solicitude for the things of God. There is thus a great difference
between aridity and lukewarmness, for lukewarmness consists in great
weakness and remissness in the will and in the spirit, without solicitude
as to serving God; whereas purgative aridity is ordinarily accompanied
by solicitude, with care and grief as I say, because the soul is not
serving God. And, although this may sometimes be increased by melancholy
or some other humour (as it frequently is), it fails not for that reason
to produce a purgative effect upon the desire, since the desire is
deprived of all pleasure and has its care centred upon God alone. For,
when mere humour is the cause, it spends itself in displeasure and
ruin of the physical nature, and there are none of those desires to
sense God which belong to purgative aridity. When the cause is aridity,
it is true that the sensual part of the soul has fallen low, and is
weak and feeble in its actions, by reason of the little pleasure which
it finds in them; but the spirit, on the other hand, is ready and strong.
4. For
the cause of this aridity is that God transfers to the spirit the good
things and the strength of the senses, which, since the soul's natural
strength and senses are incapable of using them, remain barren, dry
and empty. For the sensual part of a man has no capacity for that which
is pure spirit, and thus, when it is the spirit that receives the pleasure,
the flesh is left without savour and is too weak to perform any action.
But the spirit, which all the time is being fed, goes forward in strength,
and with more alertness and solicitude than before, in its anxiety
not to fail God; and if it is not immediately conscious of spiritual
sweetness and delight, but only of aridity and lack of sweetness, the
reason for this is the strangeness of the exchange; for its palate
has been accustomed to those other sensual pleasures upon which its
eyes are still fixed, and, since the spiritual palate is not made ready
or purged for such subtle pleasure, until it finds itself becoming
prepared for it by means of this arid and dark night, it cannot experience
spiritual pleasure and good, but only aridity and lack of sweetness,
since it misses the pleasure which aforetime it enjoyed so readily.
5. These
souls whom God is beginning to lead through these solitary places of
the wilderness are like to the children of Israel, to whom in the wilderness
God began to give food from Heaven, containing within itself all sweetness,
and, as is there said, it turned to the savour which each one of them
desired. But withal the children of Israel felt the lack of the pleasures
and delights of the flesh and the onions which they had eaten aforetime
in Egypt, the more so because their palate was accustomed to these
and took delight in them, rather than in the delicate sweetness of
the angelic manna; and they wept and sighed for the fleshpots even
in the midst of the food of Heaven.[64] To
such depths does the vileness of our desires descend that it makes
us to long for our own wretched food[65] and
to be nauseated by the indescribable[66] blessings
of Heaven.
6. But,
as I say, when these aridities proceed from the way of the purgation
of sensual desire, although at first the spirit feels no sweetness,
for the reasons that we have just given, it feels that it is deriving
strength and energy to act from the substance which this inward food
gives it, the which food is the beginning of a contemplation that is
dark and arid to the senses; which contemplation is secret and hidden
from the very person that experiences it; and ordinarily, together
with the aridity and emptiness which it causes in the senses, it gives
the soul an inclination and desire to be alone and in quietness, without
being able to think of any particular thing or having the desire to
do so. If those souls to whom this comes to pass knew how to be quiet
at this time, and troubled not about performing any kind of action,
whether inward or outward, neither had any anxiety about doing anything,
then they would delicately experience this inward refreshment in that
ease and freedom from care. So delicate is this refreshment that ordinarily,
if a man have desire or care to experience it, he experiences it not;
for, as I say, it does its work when the soul is most at ease and freest
from care; it is like the air which, if one would close one's hand
upon it, escapes.
7. In
this sense we may understand that which the Spouse said to the Bride
in the Songs, namely: 'Withdraw thine eyes from me, for they make me
to soar aloft.'[67] For
in such a way does God bring the soul into this state, and by so different
a path does He lead it that, if it desires to work with its faculties,
it hinders the work which God is doing in it rather than aids it; whereas
aforetime it was quite the contrary. The reason is that, in this state
of contemplation, which the soul enters when it forsakes meditation
for the state of the proficient, it is God Who is now working in the
soul; He binds its interior faculties, and allows it not to cling to
the understanding, nor to have delight in the will, nor to reason with
the memory. For anything that the soul can do of its own accord at
this time serves only, as we have said, to hinder inward peace and
the work which God is accomplishing in the spirit by means of that
aridity of sense. And this peace, being spiritual and delicate, performs
a work which is quiet and delicate, solitary, productive of peace and
satisfaction[68] and
far removed from all those earlier pleasures, which were very palpable
and sensual. This is the peace which, says David, God speaks in the
soul to the end that He may make it spiritual.[69] And
this leads us to the third point.
8. The
third sign whereby this purgation of sense may be recognized is that
the soul can no longer meditate or reflect in the imaginative sphere
of sense as it was wont, however much it may of itself endeavour to
do so. For God now begins to communicate Himself to it, no longer through
sense, as He did aforetime, by means of reflections which joined and
sundered its knowledge, but by pure spirit, into which consecutive
reflections enter not; but He communicates Himself to it by an act
of simple contemplation, to which neither the exterior nor the interior
senses of the lower part of the soul can attain. From this time forward,
therefore, imagination and fancy can find no support in any meditation,
and can gain no foothold by means thereof.
9. With
regard to this third sign, it is to be understood that this embarrassment
and dissatisfaction of the faculties proceed not from indisposition,
for, when this is the case, and the indisposition, which never lasts
for long,[70] comes
to an end, the soul is able once again, by taking some trouble about
the matter, to do what it did before, and the faculties find their
wonted support. But in the purgation of the desire this is not so:
when once the soul begins to enter therein, its inability to reflect
with the faculties grows ever greater. For, although it is true that
at first, and with some persons, the process is not as continuous as
this, so that occasionally they fail to abandon their pleasures and
reflections of sense (for perchance by reason of their weakness it
was not fitting to wean them from these immediately), yet this inability
grows within them more and more and brings the workings of sense to
an end, if indeed they are to make progress, for those who walk not
in the way of contemplation act very differently. For this night of
aridities is not usually continuous in their senses. At times they
have these aridities; at others they have them not. At times they cannot
meditate; at others they can. For God sets them in this night only
to prove them and to humble them, and to reform their desires, so that
they go not nurturing in themselves a sinful gluttony in spiritual
things. He sets them not there in order to lead them in the way of
the spirit, which is this contemplation; for not all those who walk
of set purpose in the way of the spirit are brought by God to contemplation,
nor even the half of them--why, He best knows. And this is why He never
completely weans the senses of such persons from the breasts of meditations
and reflections, but only for short periods and at certain seasons,
as we have said.
Of
the way in which these souls are to conduct themselves in this dark
night.
DURING
the time, then, of the aridities of this night of sense (wherein God
effects the change of which we have spoken above, drawing forth the
soul from the life of sense into that of the spirit--that is, from
meditation to contemplation--wherein it no longer has any power to
work or to reason with its faculties concerning the things of God,
as has been said), spiritual persons suffer great trials, by reason
not so much of the aridities which they suffer, as of the fear which
they have of being lost on the road, thinking that all spiritual blessing
is over for them and that God has abandoned them since they find no
help or pleasure in good things. Then they grow weary, and endeavour
(as they have been accustomed to do) to concentrate their faculties
with some degree of pleasure upon some object of meditation, thinking
that, when they are not doing this and yet are conscious of making
an effort, they are doing nothing. This effort they make not without
great inward repugnance and unwillingness on the part of their soul,
which was taking pleasure in being in that quietness and ease, instead
of working with its faculties. So they have abandoned the one pursuit,[71] yet
draw no profit from the other; for, by seeking what is prompted by
their own spirit,[72] they
lose the spirit of tranquillity and peace which they had before. And
thus they are like to one who abandons what he has done in order to
do it over again, or to one who leaves a city only to re-enter it,
or to one who is hunting and lets his prey go in order to hunt it once
more. This is useless here, for the soul will gain nothing further
by conducting itself in this way, as has been said.
2. These
souls turn back at such a time if there is none who understands them;
they abandon the road or lose courage; or, at the least, they are hindered
from going farther by the great trouble which they take in advancing
along the road of meditation and reasoning. Thus they fatigue and overwork
their nature, imagining that they are failing through negligence or
sin. But this trouble that they are taking is quite useless, for God
is now leading them by another road, which is that of contemplation,
and is very different from the first; for the one is of meditation
and reasoning, and the other belongs neither to imagination nor yet
to reasoning.
3. It
is well for those who find themselves in this condition to take comfort,
to persevere in patience and to be in no wise afflicted. Let them trust
in God, Who abandons not those that seek Him with a simple and right
heart, and will not fail to give them what is needful for the road,
until He bring them into the clear and pure light of love. This last
He will give them by means of that other dark night, that of the spirit,
if they merit His bringing them thereto.
4. The
way in which they are to conduct themselves in this night of sense
is to devote themselves not at all to reasoning and meditation, since
this is not the time for it, but to allow the soul to remain in peace
and quietness, although it may seem clear to them that they are doing
nothing and are wasting their time, and although it may appear to them
that it is because of their weakness that they have no desire in that
state to think of anything. The truth is that they will be doing quite
sufficient if they have patience and persevere in prayer without making
any effort.[73] What
they must do is merely to leave the soul free and disencumbered and
at rest from all knowledge and thought, troubling not themselves, in
that state, about what they shall think or meditate upon, but contenting
themselves with merely a peaceful and loving attentiveness toward God,
and in being without anxiety, without the ability and without desired
to have experience of Him or to perceive Him. For all these yearnings
disquiet and distract the soul from the peaceful quiet and sweet ease
of contemplation which is here granted to it.
5. And
although further scruples may come to them--that they are wasting their
time, and that it would be well for them to do something else, because
they can neither do nor think anything in prayer--let them suffer these
scruples and remain in peace, as there is no question save of their
being at ease and having freedom of spirit. For if such a soul should
desire to make any effort of its own with its interior faculties, this
means that it will hinder and lose the blessings which, by means of
that peace and ease of the soul, God is instilling into it and impressing
upon it. It is just as if some painter were painting or dyeing a face;
if the sitter were to move because he desired to do something, he would
prevent the painter from accomplishing anything and would disturb him
in what he was doing. And thus, when the soul desires to remain in
inward ease and peace, any operation and affection or attentions wherein
it may then seek to indulge[74] will
distract it and disquiet it and make it conscious of aridity and emptiness
of sense. For the more a soul endeavours to find support in affection
and knowledge, the more will it feel the lack of these, which cannot
now be supplied to it upon that road.
6. Wherefore
it behoves such a soul to pay no heed if the operations of its faculties
become lost to it; it is rather to desire that this should happen quickly.
For, by not hindering the operation of infused contemplation that God
is bestowing upon it, it can receive this with more peaceful abundance,
and cause its spirit to be enkindled and to burn with the love which
this dark and secret contemplation brings with it and sets firmly in
the soul. For contemplation is naught else than a secret, peaceful
and loving infusion from God, which, if it be permitted, enkindles
the soul with the spirit of love, according as the soul declares in
the next lines, namely:
Wherein
are expounded the three lines of the stanza.
THIS enkindling
of love is not as a rule felt at the first, because it has not begun
to take hold upon the soul, by reason of the impurity of human nature,
or because the soul has not understood its own state, as we have said,
and has therefore given it no peaceful abiding-place within itself.
Yet sometimes, nevertheless, there soon begins to make itself felt
a certain yearning toward God; and the more this increases, the more
is the soul affectioned and enkindled in love toward God, without knowing
or understanding how and whence this love and affection come to it,
but from time to time seeing this flame and this enkindling grow so
greatly within it that it desires God with yearning of love; even as
David, when he was in this dark night, said of himself in these words,[75] namely:
'Because my heart was enkindled (that is to say, in love of contemplation),
my reins also were changed': that is, my desires for sensual affections
were changed, namely from the way of sense to the way of the spirit,
which is the aridity and cessation from all these things whereof we
are speaking. And I, he says, was dissolved in nothing and annihilated,
and I knew not; for, as we have said, without knowing the way whereby
it goes, the soul finds itself annihilated with respect to all things
above and below which were accustomed to please it; and it finds itself
enamoured, without knowing how. And because at times the enkindling
of love in the spirit grows greater, the yearnings for God become so
great in the soul that the very bones seem to be dried up by this thirst,
and the natural powers to be fading away, and their warmth and strength
to be perishing through the intensity[76] of
the thirst of love, for the soul feels that this thirst of love is
a living thirst. This thirst David had and felt, when he said: 'My
soul thirsted for the living God.'[77] Which
is as much as to say: A living thirst was that of my soul. Of this
thirst, since it is living, we may say that it kills. But it is to
be noted that the vehemence of this thirst is not continuous, but occasional
although as a rule the soul is accustomed to feel it to a certain degree.
2. But
it must be noted that, as I began to say just now, this love is not
as a rule felt at first, but only the dryness and emptiness are felt
whereof we are speaking. Then in place of this love which afterwards
becomes gradually enkindled, what the soul experiences in the midst
of these aridities and emptinesses of the faculties is an habitual
care and solicitude with respect to God, together with grief and fear
that it is not serving Him. But it is a sacrifice which is not a little
pleasing to God that the soul should go about afflicted and solicitous
for His love. This solicitude and care leads the soul into that secret
contemplation, until, the senses (that is, the sensual part) having
in course of time been in some degree purged of the natural affections
and powers by means of the aridities which it causes within them, this
Divine love begins to be enkindled in the spirit. Meanwhile, however,
like one who has begun a cure, the soul knows only suffering in this
dark and arid purgation of the desire; by this means it becomes healed
of many imperfections, and exercises itself in many virtues in order
to make itself meet for the said love, as we shall now say with respect
to the line following:
3. When
God leads the soul into this night of sense in order to purge the sense
of its lower part and to subdue it, unite it and bring it into conformity
with the spirit, by setting it in darkness and causing it to cease
from meditation (as He afterwards does in order to purify the spirit
to unite it with God, as we shall afterwards say), He brings it into
the night of the spirit, and (although it appears not so to it) the
soul gains so many benefits that it holds it to be a happy chance to
have escaped from the bonds and restrictions of the senses of or its
lower self, by means of this night aforesaid; and utters the present
line, namely: Oh, happy chance! With respect to this, it behoves us
here to note the benefits which the soul finds in this night, and because
of which it considers it a happy chance to have passed through it;
all of which benefits the soul includes in the next line, namely:
4. This
going forth is understood of the subjection to its sensual part which
the soul suffered when it sought God through operations so weak, so
limited and so defective as are those of this lower part; for at every
step it stumbled into numerous imperfections and ignorances, as we
have noted above in writing of the seven capital sins. From all these
it is freed when this night quenches within it all pleasures, whether
from above or from below, and makes all meditation darkness to it,
and grants it other innumerable blessings in the acquirement of the
virtues, as we shall now show. For it will be a matter of great pleasure
and great consolation, to one that journeys on this road, to see how
that which seems to the soul so severe and adverse, and so contrary
to spiritual pleasure, works in it so many blessings. These, as we
say, are gained when the soul goes forth, as regards its affection
and operation, by means of this night, from all created things, and
when it journeys to eternal things, which is great happiness and good
fortune:[78] first,
because of the great blessing which is in the quenching of the desire
and affection with respect to all things; secondly, because they are
very few that endure and persevere in entering by this strait gate
and by the narrow way which leads to life, as says Our Saviour.[79] The
strait gate is this night of sense, and the soul detaches itself from
sense and strips itself thereof that it may enter by this gate, and
establishes itself in faith, which is a stranger to all sense, so that
afterwards it may journey by the narrow way, which is the other night--that
of the spirit--and this the soul afterwards enters in order in journey
to God in pure faith, which is the means whereby the soul is united
to God. By this road, since it is so narrow, dark and terrible (though
there is no comparison between this night of sense and that other,
in its darkness and trials, as we shall say later), they are far fewer
that journey, but its benefits are far greater without comparison than
those of this present night. Of these benefits we shall now begin to
say something, with such brevity as is possible, in order that we may
pass to the other night.
Of
the benefits which this night causes in the soul.
THIS night
and purgation of the desire, a happy one for the soul, works in it
so many blessings and benefits (although to the soul, as we have said,
it rather seems that blessings are being taken away from it) that,
even as Abraham made a great feast when he weaned his son Isaac,[80] even
so is there joy in Heaven because God is now taking this soul from
its swaddling clothes, setting it down from His arms, making it to
walk upon its feet, and likewise taking from it the milk of the breast
and the soft and sweet food proper to children, and making it to eat
bread with crust, and to begin to enjoy the food of robust persons.
This food, in these aridities and this darkness of sense, is now given
to the spirit, which is dry and emptied of all the sweetness of sense.
And this food is the infused contemplation whereof we have spoken.
2. This
is the first and principal benefit caused by this arid and dark night
of contemplation: the knowledge of oneself and of one's misery. For,
besides the fact that all the favours which God grants to the soul
are habitually granted to them enwrapped in this knowledge, these aridities
and this emptiness of the faculties, compared with the abundance which
the soul experienced aforetime and the difficulty which it finds in
good works, make it recognize its own lowliness and misery, which in
the time of its prosperity it was unable to see. Of this there is a
good illustration in the Book of Exodus, where God, wishing to humble
the children of Israel and desiring that they should know themselves,
commanded them to take away and strip off the festal garments and adornments
wherewith they were accustomed to adorn themselves in the Wilderness,
saying: 'Now from henceforth strip yourselves of festal ornaments and
put on everyday working dress, that ye may know what treatment ye deserve.'[81] This
is as though He had said: Inasmuch as the attire that ye wear, being
proper to festival and rejoicing, causes you to feel less humble concerning
yourselves than ye should, put off from you this attire, in order that
henceforth, seeing yourselves clothed with vileness, ye may know that
ye merit no more, and may know who ye are. Wherefore the soul knows
the truth that it knew not at first, concerning its own misery; for,
at the time when it was clad as for a festival and found in God much
pleasure, consolation and support, it was somewhat more satisfied and
contented, since it thought itself to some extent to be serving God.
It is true that such souls may not have this idea explicitly in their
minds; but some suggestion of it at least is implanted in them by the
satisfaction which they find in their pleasant experiences. But, now
that the soul has put on its other and working attire--that of aridity
and abandonment--and now that its first lights have turned into darkness,
it possesses these lights more truly in this virtue of self-knowledge,
which is so excellent and so necessary, considering itself now as nothing
and experiencing no satisfaction in itself; for it sees that it does
nothing of itself neither can do anything. And the smallness of this
self-satisfaction, together with the soul's affliction at not serving
God, is considered and esteemed by God as greater than all the consolations
which the soul formerly experienced and the works which it wrought,
however great they were, inasmuch as they were the occasion of many
imperfections and ignorances. And from this attire of aridity proceed,
as from their fount and source of self-knowledge, not only the things
which we have described already, but also the benefits which we shall
now describe and many more which will have to be omitted.
3. In
the first place, the soul learns to commune with God with more respect
and more courtesy, such as a soul must ever observe in converse with
the Most High. These it knew not in its prosperous times of comfort
and consolation, for that comforting favour which it experienced made
its craving for God somewhat bolder than was fitting, and discourteous
and ill-considered. Even so did it happen to Moses, when he perceived
that God was speaking to him; blinded by that pleasure and desire,
without further consideration, he would have made bold to go to Him
if God had not commanded him to stay and put off his shoes. By this
incident we are shown the respect and discretion in detachment of desire
wherewith a man is to commune with God. When Moses had obeyed in this
matter, he became so discreet and so attentive that the Scripture says
that not only did he not make bold to draw near to God, but that he
dared not even look at Him. For, having taken off the shoes of his
desires and pleasures, he became very conscious of his wretchedness
in the sight of God, as befitted one about to hear the word of God.
Even so likewise the preparation which God granted to Job in order
that he might speak with Him consisted not in those delights and glories
which Job himself reports that he was wont to have in his God, but
in leaving him naked upon a dung-hill,[82] abandoned
and even persecuted by his friends, filled with anguish and bitterness,
and the earth covered with worms. And then the Most High God, He that
lifts up the poor man from the dunghill, was pleased to come down and
speak with him there face to face, revealing to him the depths and
heights[83] of
His wisdom, in a way that He had never done in the time of his prosperity.
4. And
here we must note another excellent benefit which there is in this
night and aridity of the desire of sense, since we have had occasion
to speak of it. It is that, in this dark night of the desire (to the
end that the words of the Prophet may be fulfilled, namely: 'Thy light
shall shine in the darkness'[84]),
God will enlighten the soul, giving it knowledge, not only of its lowliness
and wretchedness, as we have said, but likewise of the greatness and
excellence of God. For, as well as quenching the desires and pleasures
and attachments of sense, He cleanses and frees the understanding that
it may understand the truth; for pleasure of sense and desire, even
though it be for spiritual things, darkens and obstructs the spirit,
and furthermore that straitness and aridity of sense enlightens and
quickens the understanding, as says Isaias.[85] Vexation
makes us to understand how the soul that is empty and disencumbered,
as is necessary for His Divine influence, is instructed supernaturally
by God in His Divine wisdom, through this dark and arid night of contemplation,[86] as
we have said; and this instruction God gave not in those first sweetnesses
and joys.
5. This
is very well explained by the same prophet Isaias, where he says: 'Whom
shall God teach His knowledge, and whom shall He make to understand
the hearing?' To those, He says, that are weaned from the milk and
drawn away from the breasts.[87] Here
it is shown that the first milk of spiritual sweetness is no preparation
for this Divine influence, neither is there preparation in attachment
to the breast of delectable meditations, belonging to the faculties
of sense, which gave the soul pleasure; such preparation consists rather
in the lack of the one and withdrawal from the other. Inasmuch as,
in order to listen to God, the soul needs to stand upright and to be
detached, with regard to affection and sense, even as the Prophet says
concerning himself, in these words: I will stand upon my watch (this
is that detachment of desire) and I will make firm my step (that is,
I will not meditate with sense), in order to contemplate (that is,
in order to understand that which may come to me from God).[88] So
we have now arrived at this, that from this arid night there first
of all comes self-knowledge, whence, as from a foundation, rises this
other knowledge of God. For which cause Saint Augustine said to God:
'Let me know myself, Lord, and I shall know Thee.'[89] For,
as the philosophers say, one extreme can be well known by another.
6. And
in order to prove more completely how efficacious is this night of
sense, with its aridity and its desolation, in bringing the soul that
light which, as we say, it receives there from God, we shall quote
that passage of David, wherein he clearly describes the great power
which is in this night for bringing the soul this lofty knowledge of
God. He says, then, thus: 'In the desert land, waterless, dry and pathless,
I appeared before Thee, that I might see Thy virtue and Thy glory.'[90] It
is a wondrous thing that David should say here that the means and the
preparation for his knowledge of the glory of God were not the spiritual
delights and the many pleasures which he had experienced, but the aridities
and detachments of his sensual nature, which is here to be understood
by the dry and desert land. No less wondrous is it that he should describe
as the road to his perception and vision of the virtue of God, not
the Divine meditations and conceptions of which he had often made use,
but his being unable to form any conception of God or to walk by meditation
produced by imaginary consideration, which is here to be understood
by the pathless land. So that the means to a knowledge of God and of
oneself is this dark night with its aridities and voids, although it
leads not to a knowledge of Him of the same plenitude and abundance
that comes from the other night of the spirit, since this is only,
as it were, the beginning of that other.
7. Likewise,
from the aridities and voids of this night of the desire, the soul
draws spiritual humility, which is the contrary virtue to the first
capital sin, which, as we said, is spiritual pride. Through this humility,
which is acquired by the said knowledge of self, the soul is purged
from all those imperfections whereinto it fell with respect to that
sin of pride, in the time of its prosperity. For it sees itself so
dry and miserable that the idea never even occurs to it that it is
making better progress than others, or outstripping them, as it believed
itself to be doing before. On the contrary, it recognizes that others
are making better progress than itself.
8. And
hence arises the love of its neighbours, for it esteems them, and judges
them not as it was wont to do aforetime, when it saw that itself had
great fervour and others not so. It is aware only of its own wretchedness,
which it keeps before its eyes to such an extent that it never forgets
it, nor takes occasion to set its eyes on anyone else. This was described
wonderfully by David, when he was in this night, in these words: 'I
was dumb and was humbled and kept silence from good things and my sorrow
was renewed.'[91] This
he says because it seemed to him that the good that was in his soul
had so completely departed that not only did he neither speak nor find
any language concerning it, but with respect to the good of others
he was likewise dumb because of his grief at the knowledge of his misery.
9. In
this condition, again, souls become submissive and obedient upon the
spiritual road, for, when they see their own misery, not only do they
hear what is taught them, but they even desire that anyone soever may
set them on the way and tell them what they ought to do. The affective
presumption which they sometimes had in their prosperity is taken from
them; and finally, there are swept away from them on this road all
the other imperfections which we noted above with respect to this first
sin, which is spiritual pride.
Of
other benefits which this night of sense causes in the soul.
WITH respect
to the soul's imperfections of spiritual avarice, because of which
it coveted this and that spiritual thing and found no satisfaction
in this and that exercise by reason of its covetousness for the desire
and pleasure which it found therein, this arid and dark night has now
greatly reformed it. For, as it finds not the pleasure and sweetness
which it was wont to find, but rather finds affliction and lack of
sweetness, it has such moderate recourse to them that it might possibly
now lose, through defective use, what aforetime it lost through excess;
although as a rule God gives to those whom He leads into this night
humility and readiness, albeit with lack of sweetness, so that what
is commanded them they may do for God's sake alone; and thus they no
longer seek profit in many things because they find no pleasure in
them.
2. With
respect to spiritual luxury, it is likewise clearly seen that, through
this aridity and lack of sensible sweetness which the soul finds in
spiritual things, it is freed from those impurities which we there
noted; for we said that, as a rule, they proceeded from the pleasure
which overflowed from spirit into sense.
3. But
with regard to the imperfections from which the soul frees itself in
this dark night with respect to the fourth sin, which is spiritual
gluttony, they may be found above, though they have not all been described
there, because they are innumerable; and thus I will not detail them
here, for I would fain make an end of this night in order to pass to
the next, concerning which we shall have to pronounce grave words and
instructions. Let it suffice for the understanding of the innumerable
benefits which, over and above those mentioned, the soul gains in this
night with respect to this sin of spiritual gluttony, to say that it
frees itself from all those imperfections which have there been described,
and from many other and greater evils, and vile abominations which
are not written above, into which fell many of whom we have had experience,
because they had not reformed their desire as concerning this inordinate
love of spiritual sweetness. For in this arid and dark night wherein
He sets the soul, God has restrained its concupiscence and curbed its
desire so that the soul cannot feed upon any pleasure or sweetness
of sense, whether from above or from below; and this He continues to
do after such manner that the soul is subjected, reformed and repressed
with respect to concupiscence and desire. It loses the strength of
its passions and concupiscence and it becomes sterile, because it no
longer consults its likings. Just as, when none is accustomed to take
milk from the breast, the courses of the milk are dried up, so the
desires of the soul are dried up. And besides these things there follow
admirable benefits from this spiritual sobriety, for, when desire and
concupiscence are quenched, the soul lives in spiritual tranquillity
and peace; for, where desire and concupiscence reign not, there is
no disturbance, but peace and consolation of God.
4. From
this there arises another and a second benefit, which is that the soul
habitually has remembrance of God, with fear and dread of backsliding
upon the spiritual road, as has been said. This is a great benefit,
and not one of the least that results from this aridity and purgation
of the desire, for the soul is purified and cleansed of the imperfections
that were clinging to it because of the desires and affections, which
of their own accord deaden and darken the soul.
5. There
is another very great benefit for the soul in this night, which is
that it practices several virtues together, as, for example, patience
and longsuffering, which are often called upon in these times of emptiness
and aridity, when the soul endures and perseveres in its spiritual
exercises without consolation and without pleasure. It practises the
charity of God, since it is not now moved by the pleasure of attraction
and sweetness which it finds in its work, but only by God. It likewise
practises here the virtue of fortitude, because, in these difficulties
and insipidities which it finds in its work, it brings strength out
of weakness and thus becomes strong. All the virtues, in short--the
theological and also the cardinal and moral--both in body and in spirit,
are practised by the soul in these times of aridity.
6. And
that in this night the soul obtains these four benefits which we have
here described (namely, delight of peace, habitual remembrance and
thought of God, cleanness and purity of soul and the practice of the
virtues which we have just described), David tells us, having experienced
it himself when he was in this night, in these words: 'My soul refused
consolations, I had remembrance of God, I found consolation and was
exercised and my spirit failed.'[92] And
he then says: 'And I meditated by night with my heart and was exercised,
and I swept and purified my spirit'--that is to say, from all the affections.[93]
7. With
respect to the imperfections of the other three spiritual sins which
we have described above, which are wrath, envy and sloth, the soul
is purged hereof likewise in this aridity of the desire and acquires
the virtues opposed to them; for, softened and humbled by these aridities
and hardships and other temptations and trials wherein God exercises
it during this night, it becomes meek with respect to God, and to itself,
and likewise with respect to its neighbour. So that it is no longer
disturbed and angry with itself because of its own faults, nor with
its neighbour because of his, neither is it displeased with God, nor
does it utter unseemly complaints because He does not quickly make
it holy.
8. Then,
as to envy, the soul has charity toward others in this respect also;
for, if it has any envy, this is no longer a vice as it was before,
when it was grieved because others were preferred to it and given greater
advantage. Its grief now comes from seeing how great is its own misery,
and its envy (if it has any) is a virtuous envy, since it desires to
imitate others, which is great virtue.
9. Neither
are the sloth and the irksomeness which it now experiences concerning
spiritual things vicious as they were before. For in the past these
sins proceeded from the spiritual pleasures which the soul sometimes
experienced and sought after when it found them not. But this new weariness
proceeds not from this insuffficiency of pleasure, because God has
taken from the soul pleasure in all things in this purgation of the
desire.
10. Besides
these benefits which have been mentioned, the soul attains innumerable
others by means of this arid contemplation. For often, in the midst
of these times of aridity and hardship, God communicates to the soul,
when it is least expecting it, the purest spiritual sweetness and love,
together with a spiritual knowledge which is sometimes very delicate,
each manifestation of which is of greater benefit and worth than those
which the soul enjoyed aforetime; although in its beginnings the soul
thinks that this is not so, for the spiritual influence now granted
to it is very delicate and cannot be perceived by sense.
11. Finally,
inasmuch as the soul is now purged from the affections and desires
of sense, it obtains liberty of spirit, whereby in ever greater degree
it gains the twelve fruits of the Holy Spirit. Here, too, it is wondrously
delivered from the hands of its three enemies--devil, world and flesh;
for, its pleasure and delight of sense being quenched with respect
to all things, neither the devil nor the world nor sensuality has any
arms or any strength wherewith to make war upon the spirit.
12. These
times of aridity, then, cause the soul to journey in all purity in
the love of God, since it is no longer influenced in its actions by
the pleasure and sweetness of the actions themselves, as perchance
it was when it experienced sweetness, but only by a desire to please
God. It becomes neither presumptuous nor self-satisfied, as perchance
it was wont to become in the time of its prosperity, but fearful and
timid with regard to itself, finding in itself no satisfaction whatsoever;
and herein consists that holy fear which preserves and increases the
virtues. This aridity, too, quenches natural energy and concupiscence,
as has also been said. Save for the pleasure, indeed, which at certain
times God Himself infuses into it, it is a wonder if it finds pleasure
and consolation of sense, through its own diligence, in any spiritual
exercise or action, as has already been said.
13. There
grows within souls that experience this arid night concern for God
and yearnings to serve Him, for in proportion as the breasts of sensuality,
wherewith it sustained and nourished the desires that it pursued, are
drying up, there remains nothing in that aridity and detachment save
the yearning to serve God, which is a thing very pleasing to God. For,
as David says, an afflicted spirit is a sacrifice to God.[94]
14. When
the soul, then, knows that, in this arid purgation through which it
has passed, it has derived and attained so many and such precious benefits
as those which have here been described, it tarries not in crying,
as in the stanza of which we are expounding the lines, 'Oh, happy chance!--I
went forth without being observed.' That is, 'I went forth' from the
bonds and subjection of the desires of sense and the affections, 'without
being observed'--that is to say, without the three enemies aforementioned
being able to keep me from it. These enemies, as we have said, bind
the soul as with bonds, in its desires and pleasures, and prevent it
from going forth from itself to the liberty of the love of God; and
without these desires and pleasures they cannot give battle to the
soul, as has been said.
15. When,
therefore, the four passions of the soul--which are joy, grief, hope
and fear--are calmed through continual mortification; when the natural
desires have been lulled to sleep, in the sensual nature of the soul,
by means of habitual times of aridity; and when the harmony of the
senses and the interior faculties causes a suspension of labour and
a cessation from the work of meditation, as we have said (which is
the dwelling and the household of the lower part of the soul), these
enemies cannot obstruct this spiritual liberty, and the house remains
at rest and quiet, as says the following line:
My
house being now at rest.
Expounds
this last line of the first stanza.
WHEN this
house of sensuality was now at rest--that is, was mortified--its passions
being quenched and its desires put to rest and lulled to sleep by means
of this blessed night of the purgation of sense, the soul went forth,
to set out upon the road and way of the spirit, which is that of progressives
and proficients, and which, by another name, is called the way of illumination
or of infused contemplation, wherein God Himself feeds and refreshes
the soul, without meditation, or the soul's active help. Such, as we
have said, is the night and purgation of sense in the soul. In those
who have afterwards to enter the other and more formidable night of
the spirit, in order to pass to the Divine union of love of God (for
not all pass habitually thereto, but only the smallest number), it
is wont to be accompanied by formidable trials and temptations of sense,
which last for a long time, albeit longer in some than in others. For
to some the angel of Satan presents himself--namely, the spirit of
fornication--that he may buffet their senses with abominable and violent
temptations, and trouble their spirits with vile considerations and
representations which are most visible to the imagination, which things
at times are a greater affliction to them than death.
2. At
other times in this night there is added to these things the spirit
of blasphemy, which roams abroad, setting in the path of all the conceptions
and thoughts of the soul intolerable blasphemies. These it sometimes
suggests to the imagination with such violence that the soul almost
utters them, which is a grave torment to it.
3. At
other times another abominable spirit, which Isaias calls Spiritus
vertiginis,[95]is
allowed to molest them, not in order that they may fall, but that it
may try them. This spirit darkens their senses in such a way that it
fills them with numerous scruples and perplexities, so confusing that,
as they judge, they can never, by any means, be satisfied concerning
them, neither can they find any help for their judgment in counsel
or thought. This is one of the severest goads and horrors of this night,
very closely akin to that which passes in the night of the spirit.
4. As
a rule these storms and trials are sent by God in this night and purgation
of sense to those whom afterwards He purposes to lead into the other
night (though not all reach it), to the end that, when they have been
chastened and buffeted, they may in this way continually exercise and
prepare themselves, and continually accustom their senses and faculties
to the union of wisdom which is to be bestowed upon them in that other
night. For, if the soul be not tempted, exercised and proved with trials
and temptations, it cannot quicken its sense of Wisdom. For this reason
it is said in Ecclesiasticus: 'He that has not been tempted, what does
he know? And he that has not been proved, what are the things that
he recognizes?'[96] To
this truth Jeremias bears good witness, saying: 'Thou didst chastise
me, Lord, and I was instructed.'[97] And
the most proper form of this chastisement, for one who will enter into
Wisdom, is that of the interior trials which we are here describing,
inasmuch as it is these which most effectively purge sense of all favours
and consolations to which it was affected, with natural weakness, and
by which the soul is truly humiliated in preparation for the exaltation
which it is to experience.
5. For
how long a time the soul will be held in this fasting and penance of
sense, cannot be said with any certainty; for all do not experience
it after one manner, neither do all encounter the same temptations.
For this is meted out by the will of God, in conformity with the greater
or the smaller degree of imperfection which each soul has to purge
away. In conformity, likewise, with the degree of love of union to
which God is pleased to raise it, He will humble it with greater or
less intensity or in greater or less time. Those who have the disposition
and greater strength to suffer, He purges with greater intensity and
more quickly. But those who are very weak are kept for a long time
in this night, and these He purges very gently and with slight temptations.
Habitually, too, He gives them refreshments of sense so that they may
not fall away, and only after a long time do they attain to purity
of perfection in this life, some of them never attaining to it at all.
Such are neither properly in the night nor properly out of it; for,
although they make no progress, yet, in order that they may continue
in humility and self-knowledge, God exercises them for certain periods
and at certain times[98] in
those temptations and aridities; and at other times and seasons He
assists them with consolations, lest they should grow faint and return
to seek the consolations of the world. Other souls, which are weaker,
God Himself accompanies, now appearing to them, now moving farther
away, that He may exercise them in His love; for without such turnings
away they would not learn to reach God.
6. But
the souls which are to pass on to that happy and high estate, the union
of love, are wont as a rule to remain for a long time in these aridities
and temptations, however quickly God may lead them, as has been seen
by experience. It is time, then, to begin to treat of the second night.
Next
Page
