BOOK VII.
OF THE
UNION OF THE SOUL WITH HER GOD, WHICH IS PERFECTED IN PRAYER.
CHAPTER I.
HOW LOVE EFFECTS THE UNION OF THE SOUL WITH GOD IN PRAYER.
WE speak not here of the general union of the heart with its
God, but of certain particular acts and movements which the
soul, recollected in God, makes by way of prayer, to be more
and more united and joined to his divine goodness: for there is
truly a difference between joining or uniting one thing to another, and clasping or pressing one thing against or upon another;
because to join or unite there is only required an application of
one thing to the other, so that they may touch, and be together,
as we join vines to elms, and jessamine to the trellis-work of
the arbours which are made in gardens. But to squeeze and
press together, a strong application must be made, which
increases and augments the union; so that to clasp together is
to join strongly and closely, as we see ivy joined to trees, which
is not united only, but pressed and clasped so hard to them
that it even penetrates and enters into their bark.
We must not drop the comparison of the love of little
children towards their mothers, because of its innocence and
purity. Regard, then, that sweet little child, to whom the seated
mother presents her breast. It casts itself into her arms,
gathering and folding its little body in this bosom and on this
beloved breast. And see the mother, reciprocally, how,
receiving it she clasps it, and as it were glues it to her bosom,
and joining her mouth to its mouth kisses it. But see again
this little babe, allured with its mother's caresses, how for its
part it concurs in this union between its mother and itself: for
it also, as much as it possibly can, squeezes and presses itself to
its mother's breast and face, as though it would wholly dive into,
and hide itself in that beloved being from whom it came. Now,
Theotimus,in this moment union is perfect; which being but one,
proceeds notwithstanding from the mother and the child, yet
so, that it has its whole dependence upon the mother. For she
drew the child to her, she first locked it in her arms, and pressed
it to her breast; nor had the babe strength enough to clasp and
keep itself so tight to its mother. Yet the poor little one does
for its part what it can, and joins itself with all its strength to
its mother's bosom, not consenting only to the delightful union
which its mother makes, but contributing, with all its heart, its
feeble endeavours: and I say its feeble endeavours, because
they are so weak that they rather resemble efforts after union
than actual union.
Thus then, Theotimus, our Saviour, showing the most
delightful breast of his divine love to the devout soul, draws
her wholly to himself, gathers her up, and as it were folds all
her powers in the bosom of his more than motherly sweetness,
and then burning with love, he clasps the soul, joins, presses
and glues her on his lips of sweetness, and to his delicious
breast, kissing her with the sacred kiss of his mouth, and
making her relish his breasts more sweet than wine.1 Then the
soul, allured with the delights of these favours, not only consents, and yields herself to the union which God makes, but
with all her power co-operates, forcing herself to join and clasp
herself closer and closer to the divine goodness; yet in such a
way that she fully acknowledges her union and attachment to
this sovereign sweetness to be wholly dependent upon God's
operation, without which she could not make the least effort in
the world to be united unto him.
When we see an exquisite beauty beheld with great ardour,
or an excellent melody heard with great attention, or a rare
discourse listened to with great satisfaction, we are wont to
say that this beauty rivets the eyes of the spectators, this music
takes the ears, and this discourse captivates the hearts, of the
auditors. What does this mean - to rivet the eyes and ears, or
to captivate the heart - save to unite and most closely join
these senses and powers to their objects? The soul then closely
joins herself to, and presses herself upon, her object, when she
exercises her affection towards it with great intensity; for
pressure is nothing more than the progress and advancement of
the union and conjunction. We make use of this word,
according to our language, even in moral matters: he presses
me to do this, or he presses me to stay, that is, he does not
merely use his persuasion and prayer, but does it with earnestness and entreaty, as did the pilgrims in Emmaus, who not only
petitioned our Saviour, but even pressed and forcibly urged
him, and compelled him by a loving violence to remain in their
lodging with them.
Now in prayer this union is often made by manner of little
yet frequent flights and advancings of the soul towards God:
and if you take notice of little children united and joined to
their mothers' breasts, you will see that ever and anon they
press and clasp closer, with little movements which the pleasure
they take in sucking makes them give: so the heart united
to God in prayer often makes certain renewals of union, by
movements which press and join it more closely to the divine
sweetness. As for example, the soul having long dwelt in the
feeling of the union whereby she sweetly tastes how happy she
is to belong to God, in fine, augmenting this union by an
amorous pressing and moving forwards: Yea, Lord, will she say,
I am thine, all, all, all, without reserve; or: Ah Lord! I am
so indeed, and will be daily ever more; or, by way of prayer: O sweet Jesus! Ah! draw me still more deeply into thy
heart, that thy love may devour me, and that I may be
swallowed up in its sweetness.
But at other times the union is made not by repeated movements, but by way of a continued insensible pressing and
advancing of the heart in the divine goodness. For as we see
a great and heavy mass of lead, brass or stone, though not
forced down, so work itself, sink down, and press itself, into the
earth where it lies, that at length it is found buried, by reason
of the effect of its weight, which makes it incessantly tend to
the centre; - so our heart, being once joined to God, if without
being drawn away it remain in this union, sinks still deeper by
an insensible progress of union, till it is wholly in God, by
reason of the sacred inclination given it by love to unite itself
ever more and more to the sovereign goodness. For as the
great apostle of France says: "Love is a unitive virtue:" that
is, it carries us to perfect union with the sovereign good. And
since it is an undoubted truth that divine love, while we are in
this life, is a movement, or at least a habit active and tending to
movement; even after it has attained simple union, it ceases
not to act, though imperceptibly, in order more and more to
increase and perfect it.
So trees that require transplanting, as soon as they are moved
spread their roots and lodge them deeply in the bosom of the
earth, which is their element and their aliment, nor do any
perceive it while it is doing, but only after it is done. And
man's heart, transplanted out of the world into God by celestial
love, if it earnestly practise prayer, will certainly ever extend itself,
and will fasten itself to the Divinity, uniting itself more and more
to his goodness, but by imperceptible advances, whose progress
one can hardly see while it is doing, but only when it is done.
If you drink any exquisite water, for instance, imperial water,
the simple union of it with you is instantly made upon your
receiving it; for the receiving and union is all one in this case;
but afterwards by little and little this union is increased, by a
progress imperceptibly sensible: for the virtue of this water
penetrating to all parts, will strengthen the brain, invigorate
the heart, and extend its influence through all your humours.
In like manner, a feeling of love - as for example: How good
God is! - having got entrance into the heart, at first causes union
with this goodness; but being entertained for some fairly long
time, as a precious perfume it penetrates every part of the soul,
pours out and dilates itself in our will, and as it were, incorporates
itself with our spirit, joining and fastening itself on
every side more and more closely to us, and uniting us to it.
And this is what the great David teaches us, when he compares
the sacred words to honey; for who knows not that the sweetness of honey is united more and more to our sense by a
continual increase of savour, when, keeping it a good while in
our mouth, or swallowing it slowly, the relish thereof more
deeply penetrates our sense of taste. In the same way that
sentiment of the divine goodness, expressed in those words of
S. Bruno: O Goodness! or those of S. Thomas: My Lord
and my God! or those of S. Magdalen: Ah! my Master!! or
those of S. Francis: My God and my All! - this sentiment, I
say, having been kept some while within a loving heart,
dilates itself, spreads itself, and sinks into the spirit by an intimate penetration, and more and more steeps it all in its savour.
This is nothing else than to increase union; as does precious
ointment or balm, which, falling upon cotton-wool, so sinks into
it and unites itself to it more and more, little by little, that in
the end one cannot easily say whether the wool is perfumed or
perfume, or, whether the perfume is wool, or the wool perfume.
Oh! how happy is the soul who in the tranquillity of her heart
lovingly preserves the sacred feeling of God's presence! For
her union with the divine goodness will have continual though
imperceptible increase, and will thoroughly steep the spirit of
such a one in infinite sweetness. Now when I speak here of
the sacred sentiment of the presence of God, I do not mean to
speak of a sensible feeling, but of that which resides in the
summit and supreme point of the spirit, where heavenly love
reigns and conducts its principal exercises.
CHAPTER II.
OF THE VARIOUS DEGREES OF THE HOLY UNION WHICH IS MADE IN PRAYER.
SOMETIMES the union is made without our co-operation, save
only by a simple following (suite), permitting ourselves to be
united to the divine goodness without resistance, as a little child,
in love with its mother's breasts, and yet so feeble that it cannot
move itself towards them, nor cleave to them when there; only
it is - Ah! so happy, to be taken and drawn within its mother's
arms, and to be pressed by her to her bosom.
Sometimes we co-operate, when, being drawn, we willingly
run,2 to second the force of God's goodness which draws us and clasps us to him by love.
Sometimes we seem to begin to join and fasten ourselves to
God before he joins himself to us, because we feel the action of
the union on our part, without perceiving what God is doing on
his side, who, however, there is no doubt, always acts first on
us, though we do not always perceive his action: for unless he
united himself to us we should never unite ourselves to him;
he always chooses and lays hold of us, before we choose or lay
hold of him. But when, following his imperceptible attractions,
we begin to unite ourselves to him, he sometimes makes the
continuation of our union, assisting our weakness, and joining
himself perceptibly to us, insomuch that we feel him enter and
penetrate our hearts with an incomparable sweetness. And
sometimes also, as he drew us insensibly to the union, he continues insensibly to aid and assist us. And we know not indeed
how so great a union is made, yet know we well that our forces
are not able to make it, wherefore we justly argue that some
secret power is working insensibly in us: as skippers with a
cargo of iron perceiving their ships move apace with a very
light breeze, know that they are near mountains of loadstone,
which draw them imperceptibly, and thus they perceive a sensible
and perceptible advancement caused by an insensible and imperceptible
means. For so when we see our spirit unite itself
ever closer and closer to God, during the little efforts which our
will makes, we rightly judge that we have too little wind to sail
so fast, and that it must needs be that the loadstone of our souls
draws us by the secret influence of his grace: which he would
leave imperceptible, that it may be more admirable, and that
undistracted by the sense of his drawings, we may with more
purity and simplicity be occupied in uniting ourselves to his
goodness.
Sometimes this union is made so insensibly that our heart
neither perceives the divine operation in her, nor yet her own
co-operation, but finds simply the union itself insensibly effected,
like Jacob, who found himself married to Lia without thinking
of it: or rather, like another Samson, but more happy, the
heart finds itself netted and tied in the bands of holy union,
without having ever perceived it.
At other times we feel the embraces, the union being made by
sensible actions as well on God's side, as on ours.
Sometimes the union is made by the will only, and in the will
only; and sometimes the understanding has its part therein,
because the will draws it after it and applies it to its object,
making it take a special pleasure in being fastened down to the
consideration thereof; as we see that love causes in our corporal
eyes a profound and special attention, to rivet them on the
sight of what we love.
Sometimes this union is made by all the faculties of the soul,
which gather about the will, not to be united to God themselves,
not being all capable of it, but to give more convenience to the
will to make its union; for if the other faculties were applied
each to its proper object, the soul working in them, could not
so perfectly give herself to the action by which the union with
God is made. Such is the variety of unions.
Look at S. Martial (for he was, they say, the blessed child mentioned in S. Mark): Our Saviour took him, lifted him up, and
held him for a good while in his arms. O lovely little Martial,
how happy thou art to be laid hold of, taken up and carried, to be
united, joined and clasped to the heavenly bosom of our Saviour,
and kissed with his sacred mouth, without any co-operation of
thine, save that thou didst not resist the receiving of those
divine caresses! On the contrary, S. Simeon embraces our
Saviour, and clasps him to his bosom, our Saviour giving no
sign of co-operating in this union, though, as the holy Church
sings: "The old man carried the child, but the child was
governing the old man." S. Bonaventure, touched with a holy
humility, did not only not unite himself to our Saviour, but
withdrew himself from his real presence, that is, from the holy
sacrament of the altar, when, hearing Mass one day, our Saviour
came to unite himself with him, bringing him his holy sacrament. But this union being made, - Ah! Theotimus, think
with what fervour this holy soul locked his Saviour in his heart!
On the contrary S. Catharine of Siena ardently desiring our
Saviour in the holy communion, pressing and advancing her
soul and affection towards him - he came and joined himself
unto her, entering into her mouth with a thousand benedictions.
So that our Saviour began the union with S. Bonaventure, and
S. Catharine seemed to begin that which she had with her
Saviour. The sacred spouse in the Canticles speaks as having
practised both sorts of unions.
I to my beloved, and his turning is towards me:3
which is as much as if she had said: I am united to my dear love, and he likewise turns towards me, to the end that uniting himself more and more unto me he may become wholly mine.
A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.4 My soul, says David,
hath stuck close to thee: thy right hand hath received me. 5 But in another place she confesses that she is first taken, saying:
My
beloved to me and I to him.6 We make a holy union, by which
he joins himself to me and I join myself to him. And yet to
show that the whole union is ever made by God's grace, which
draws us unto it, and by its attractions moves our soul and
animates the movement of our union towards him, she cries out,
as being wholly powerless:
Draw me: yet to testify that she
will not let herself be drawn as a stone or a galley-slave, but
that on her side she will concur and will mingle her feeble
movements with the mighty drawings of her lover:
We will
[
Page 289]
[
Page 290]
[
Page 291]
[
Page 292]
[
Page 293]
[
Page 294]
[
Page 295]
[
Page 296]
[
Page 297]
[
Page 298]
[
Page 299]
[
Page 300]
[
Page 301]
[
Page 302]
[
Page 303]
[
Page 304]
[
Page 305]
[
Page 306]
[
Page 307]
[
Page 308]
[
Page 309]
[
Page 310]
[
Page 311]
[
Page 312]
[
Page 313]
[
Page 314]
[
Page 315]
[
Page 316]
[
Page 317]
[
Page 318]
[
Page 319]
[
Page 320]
[
Page 321]
[
Page 322]
[
Page 323]
[
Page 324]
[
Page 325]
[
Page 326]
[
Page 327]
[
Page 328]
[
Page 329]
[
Page 330]
[
Page 331]
[
Page 332]
[
Page 333]
[
Page 334]
[
Page 335]
[
Page 336]
[
Page 337]
[
Page 338]
[
Page 339]
[
Page 340]
[
Page 341]
[
Page 342]
[
Page 343]
[
Page 344]
[
Page 345]
[
Page 346]
[
Page 347]
[
Page 348]
[
Page 349]
[
Page 350]
[
Page 351]
[
Page 352]
[
Page 353]
[
Page 354]
[
Page 355]
[
Page 356]
[
Page 357]
[
Page 358]
[
Page 359]
[
Page 360]
[
Page 361]
[
Page 362]
[
Page 363]
[
Page 364]
[
Page 365]
[
Page 366]
[
Page 367]
[
Page 368]
[
Page 369]
[
Page 370]
[
Page 371]
[
Page 372]
[
Page 373]
[
Page 374]
[
Page 375]
[
Page 376]
[
Page 377]
[
Page 378]
[
Page 379]
[
Page 380]
[
Page 381]
[
Page 382]
[
Page 383]
[
Page 384]
[
Page 385]
[
Page 386]
[
Page 387]
[
Page 388]
[
Page 389]
[
Page 390]
[
Page 391]
[
Page 392]
[
Page 393]
[
Page 394]
[
Page 395]
[
Page 396]
[
Page 397]
[
Page 398]
[
Page 399]
[
Page 400]
[
Page 401]
[
Page 402]
[
Page 403]
[
Page 404]
[
Page 405]
[
Page 406]
[
Page 407]
[
Page 408]
[
Page 409]
[
Page 410]
[
Page 411]
[
Page 412]
[
Page 413]
[
Page 414]
[
Page 415]
[
Page 416]
[
Page 417]
[
Page 418]
[
Page 419]
[
Page 420]
[
Page 421]
[
Page 422]
[
Page 423]
[
Page 424]
[
Page 425]
[
Page 426]
[
Page 427]
[
Page 428]
[
Page 429]
[
Page 430]
[
Page 431]
[
Page 432]
[
Page 433]
[
Page 434]
[
Page 435]
[
Page 436]
[
Page 437]
[
Page 438]
[
Page 439]
[
Page 440]
[
Page 441]
[
Page 442]
[
Page 443]
[
Page 444]
[
Page 445]
[
Page 446]
[
Page 447]
[
Page 448]
[
Page 449]
[
Page 450]
[
Page 451]
[
Page 452]
[
Page 453]
[
Page 454]
[
Page 455]
[
Page 456]
[
Page 457]
[
Page 458]
[
Page 459]
[
Page 460]
[
Page 461]
[
Page 462]
[
Page 463]
[
Page 464]
[
Page 465]
[
Page 466]
[
Page 467]
[
Page 468]
[
Page 469]
[
Page 470]
[
Page 471]
[
Page 472]
[
Page 473]
[
Page 474]
[
Page 475]
[
Page 476]
[
Page 477]
[
Page 478]
[
Page 479]
[
Page 480]
[
Page 481]
[
Page 482]
[
Page 483]
[
Page 484]
[
Page 485]
[
Page 486]
[
Page 487]
[
Page 488]
[
Page 489]
[
Page 490]
[
Page 491]
[
Page 492]
[
Page 493]
[
Page 494]
[
Page 495]
[
Page 496]
[
Page 497]
[
Page 498]
[
Page 499]
[
Page 500]
[
Page 501]
[
Page 502]
[
Page 503]
[
Page 504]
[
Page 505]
[
Page 506]
[
Page 507]
[
Page 508]
[
Page 509]
[
Page 510]
[
Page 511]
[
Page 512]
[
Page 513]
[
Page 514]
[
Page 515]
[
Page 516]
[
Page 517]
[
Page 518]
[
Page 519]
[
Page 520]
[
Page 521]
[
Page 522]
[
Page 523]
[
Page 524]
[
Page 525]
[
Page 526]
[
Page 527]
[
Page 528]
[
Page 529]
[
Page 530]
[
Page 531]
which so depend upon the corporal disposition and constitution
that we have not the power to do them just as we please: for
the melancholy-disposed cannot keep their eyes, or their words,
or their faces, in the same good grace and sweetness as they
would do if they were relieved from this bad humour; but they
are quite able, though without this good grace, to say gracious,
kind, and civil words, and, in spite of inclination, to do what
reason requires as to words and works of charity, gentleness
and condescension. We may be excused for not being always
bright, for one is not master of cheerfulness to have it when one
will; but we are not excusable for not being always gracious,
yielding and considerate; for this is always in the power of our
will, and we have only to determine to keep down the contrary
humour and inclination.
