Sermons on the Song of Songs

forth the natural force of the characters of those who are ruled. And in the latter the agreeable sweetness of a voluntary and, so to speak, innate affection runs eagerly of its own accord, like, as it were, the fragrant oil which is upon the head, and which at the slightest touch of warmth rolls downward and is diffused over the whole body. Thus in the cell of discipline are enclosed, as it were, the simple materials of perfumes in a dry state, and thus I have thought it ought to be called ' of perfume/ But in that which is said to be of nature, the unguents compounded of these are found and are stored, and therefore it is called * of unguents.' As for the wine-cellar, I suppose that the reason for the name is no other than that in it is stored the wine of a zeal fervent with charity. One who has not as yet deserved to be brought into this cell should assuredly not be set in authority over others. For it is essential that one who has the direction of others should be fervent with this wine, in like manner as was the great Doctor of the Gentiles, when he said: Who is weak, and J am not weak? Who is offended, and I burn not? (2 Cor. xi. 29). Otherwise, it is altogether wrong that you should aspire to rule over those to whom you have no desire to be of service, and should claim for yourself, with excessive ambition, the subjection of those whose salvation you are not earnestly desirous to forward. This cell I have named that of grace, not because it is possible to obtain even the two others without grace, but because of the fulness of grace which is reached in this alone. For love is the fulfilling of the law, and He that loveth another hath fulfilled the law (Rom. xiii. 10, 8).

8. You have seen the reason of the names, see now the different characters of the cells; for it is one thing to repress by fear, and by the rigid rule of discipline, the wanton and wandering senses and the irregular appetites of the flesh, and another to preserve a kindly agreement with brethren by a spontaneous disposition to do so. These differ in difficulty, and, indeed, in the faculties which effect them; and so also to live a regulated life under the authority of another, and to do so with our own will for the only constraining influence, are altogether distinct things. In the same way, no one will declare the living in peace and on good terms with others, and the ruling over them for their benefit to be actions of equal merit and requiring the same powers. How many are there who live in peace under the direction of an intelligent guide, whom, if they were set free from the obligation to obey, you would speedily perceive not to be able to remain even peaceful and harmless to their neighbours? And similarly there are very many who are seen to conduct themselves simply and without offence among their brethren who, if they were set over them, would behave themselves so as to be not only useless, but even unwise and harmful. Such persons ought to content themselves within the bounds of a mediocrity which is advan tageous to them, following the measure of the grace which God has bestowed upon them; not having, indeed, any great need of a master, but yet being unfitted to be masters themselves. These, indeed, are of a more excellent character than the former class; but such as know how to govern well are superior both to the one 'and to the other. Those, too, who are faithful and wise in ruling over the Lord's household have it in promise from Him that He will make them rulers over all His goods (Matt. xxiv. 48). But as there are few who rule wholly to the advantage of others, so there are fewer still who do so with humility. Yet both the one and the other duty are easily fulfilled by him who has attained perfect discretion, the mother of all the virtues, and has drunk of the wine of charity to the point of contemning his own glory, and of entire forgetfulness of himself, so that he seeketh not his own; and this state is reached only in the cell called of wine, and under the wonderful guidance of the Holy Spirit. The virtue of discretion lies prone and helpless without the fervour of charity, while the vehement fervour of charity without the moderating influence of discretion hurries on to the precipice. Therefore he is to be praised to whom neither is wanting, insomuch that fervour animates his discretion, and discretion regulates his fervour. So it behoves him to be constituted who rules over others. But I should regard him as the highest in character, and as having learned perfectly the sum of this discipline, upon whom has been bestowed the power to pass through and around all these cellars without stumbling; who in no respect whatever either resists his superiors, envies his equals, or towards his inferiors commits either the error of being wanting in care for them, or ruling them in pride; who is obedient to those who are above him, to his companions obliging, to those under him kindly condescending for their good; which high degree of perfection, indeed, I have no hesitation in attributing to the Bride. This is intimated in the statement she has made, that The King hath brought me into His storehouses, since she mentions not some one only, but speaks in the plural, 1 His storehouses.'1

9. Now let us pass to the bedchamber. What is that chamber? Have I the presumption to think that I know what it is? By no means do I arrogate to myself any experience of so exalted a subject, nor do I boast of a prerogative, which is reserved to the happy Bride alone, being careful, according to that proverb of the Greeks, to * know myself,'1 and to know, as did the Psalmist [in a similar case], that such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it (Ps. cxxxix. 6). If I had no knowledge whatever, I should say nothing. What little I do know I will not enviously keep back from you \ what I do not know, may He, w/10 teacheth man knowledge (Ps. xciv. 10), vouchsafe to impart to you. I have already said, and I dare say that you remember, that the chamber of the King is to be sought in the secret and mystical truth reached by Divine contemplation.1 But, as in speaking of perfumes, I said that the Bridegroom has many, and of different kinds, and that all of these are not bestowed upon everyone, but that each has part in them, according to the various character of his discernings, so I think of the chamber of the King also, that it is not one, but many. Nor has He one queen also, but assuredly very many; He has many woman friends,2 and of maidens the number is uncounted. Each of these has her secret confidence with the Bridegroom, and says: My secret is for myself my secret is for myself (Is. xxiv. 16). It is not granted to all to enjoy in the same degree the dear and secret Presence of the Bridegroom, but it is given to whomsoever it has been prepared by the Father. For we have not chosen Him, but He has chosen us, and established us in our place; and wheresoever any soul has been placed by Him, there is He with that soul. One woman, moved with penitence, found her place at the Feet of the Lord Jesus (Luke vii. 38); another, if it were really another,3 found the fruit of her devotion at the Head of Jesus (Matt. xxvi. 7). St. Thomas attained the grace of that secret [favour] at His Side; St.

John leaning upon His Breast; St. Peter in the Bosom of the Father; and St. Paul in the third heaven.

10. Who of us can worthily distinguish between these varieties of merits, or rather of rewards? Nevertheless, that I may not seem to pass over in silence that which is within our knowledge, notice that the former of the women mentioned sought her safety under the shelter of humility; the latter in the seat of hope; St. Thomas in firmness of faith; St. John in breadth of charity; St. Paul in the depth of wisdom; St. Peter in the light of truth. If, then, in the [home of the] Bridegroom there are many mansions, each, whether Queen, or friend, and even she who is only of the number of the maidens, finds place and lodgment there proportioned to her merits, and is permitted to remain there until she passes beyond it by inspiring contemplation, enters into the joy of her Lord, and of the sweet secrets of the Bridegroom explores the utmost depths. This I will endeavour to make more clear in its place, as far as the Lord shall vouchsafe to enable me. But now it is sufficient to know that to none, whether of the maidens, or of the friends, or even of the Queens, is access opened to that secret of the inner chamber of the Bride groom, which He reserves for Her who is His dove, His undefiled, His only and perfect one. On that account I am not troubled or surprised if access to it is not given unto me, especially because it is to my mind quite clear that not even the Bride attains to the knowledge of all the secret things into which she desires to be admitted. For does she not earnestly ask the Bridegroom where He feeds His flock, and where He rests at noon (Cant. i. 6)?

1 1. But let me tell you to what point I have arrived, or rather that I think I have reached; for you will not impute vanity to that which I say in the hope of serving you. There is, then, in the dwelling of the Bridegroom a chosen spot in which the Sovereign Ruler of the universe decrees His laws and shapes His designs, setting laws in weight, and measure, and number, to all things created. That place is lofty and secret, but it is by no means noiseless. For though He, as far as regards Himself, disposes all things with sweetness, yet He disposes them, and does not permit that one who has reached that point by contemplation should remain in quiescence; but He wearies, and by a course, marvellous and yet delightful, renders full of unrest and lassitude the soul that searches out and admires these deep things. The Bride expresses beautifully, in a later part of this Canticle, each of these feelings, that is, the delight and, at the same time, the inquietude of this contemplation, as where she says: I sleep, but my heart waketh (v. 2). For in speaking of sleep she signifies that she tastes the repose of a trance most sweet, and the stillness of complete admiration; but when of waking, that she endures the weariness of a restless curiosity and laborious research. Thus the holy Job says: When I lie down I say, When shall I arise and the night be gone? (Job vii. 4). Do you not understand by these words that a holy soul desires to escape from a repose which, in a certain sense, troubles it, and to seek again the same employment, troublous, and yet sweet? For he would not have said, When shall I arise? if that repose of contemplation had been entirely pleasing to him; nor, on the other hand, if it had been wholly displeasing, would he have awaited with impatience the hour of repose, that is to say, the evening} That, therefore, where entire rest is not attained, is not the bedchamber of the Bridegroom.

1 2. There is still another place, in which the vengeance, most severe and most secret, of God the Judge, just and terrible in His dealings with the children of men, watches ceaselessly over His creatures, gifted with reason, but doomed on account of sin. The awestricken beholder, I repeat, here regards God, who by a just and secret judgment neither washes away the evil actions of those who are reprobate, nor accepts their good actions; and, moreover, He hardens their hearts, lest they should perchance repent and return, and be converted, and He should heal them. Nor is this without a sure and eternal reason, which is manifestly so much the more awful, as it is, in fact, immovable and eternal. That is a very fearful saying upon this subject which we read in the Prophet, where God, speaking to His Angels, says: Let us have pity on the wicked (Is. xxvi. 10). And when they are stricken with terror, and inquire: Will he, then, not learn to do righteousness? No, He replies; and he adds the reason: In the land of righteousness will he deal unjustly, and will not behold the majesty of the Lord. Let ecclesiastics, let the ministers of the Church, be seized with fear who commit so many wrongs in the lands of the Saints of which they have possession, and who, far from being content with the stipends which ought to suffice for them, keep for themselves, with wicked and sacrilegious greed, the overplus, which ought to go to nourish the poor; who are not ashamed to consume for their own pride and luxury the sustenance of the needy, and thus are guilty of a double crime \ inasmuch as they seize upon what is not their own, and abuse holy things to the service of their vanities and lusts.

13. Who, then, in seeing that He, whose judgments are like the great deep, spares and pities such persons in this life, in order not to spare them in eternity, will seek rest in this place? This vision is filled with the tremor2 of judgment, not with the peace and security of the bedchamber of the King. Terrible is that place, and wholly devoid of calm and rest When brought into it, I shudder to the very heart, and revolve in my mind with fear that saying: Who knoweth whether he be worthy of love or of hatred 7 (Eccles. ix. 1). Nor is it wonderful if I (who am but as a leaf driven to and fro, or as the dry stubble, Job xiii. 25) should totter in that place, where that great man who contemplated with such marvellous insight [the doings of the Creator] declares that his feet were almost gone, and his treadings had well nigh slipped, saying: / was envious of the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the tvieked. Where- fore? Because they are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men; therefore pride eompasseth them about as a chain (Ps. lxxiii. 3-6), that they should not be humbled and made penitent, but be condemned, because of their pride, with the devil, who is proud, and with his angels. For those who have no part in the trouble of men shall assuredly have part in that of demons, and shall hear that terrible sentence from the Mouth of the Judge: Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels (Matt. xxv. 41). And yet this, too, is a habitation of God; it is plainly no other than the house of God and the gate of Heaven. It is here that God is feared; here is His Name [beheld as] holy and terrible; it is, as it were, the entering in of His glory; for the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Ps. cxi. 10).

14. Let it not astonish you that I have set down the beginning of wisdom as belonging to this, and not to the earlier place. For as in the earlier we listen to Wisdom teaching of all things as a professor in his lecture-hall, so in this we receive these teachings in ourselves; there we are indeed instructed, but here we are touched and influenced. Instruction renders men learned, but feeling1 makes them wise. The sun does not render all things warm upon which its light falls, so Wisdom also instructs many persons what they ought to do, without going on to give the earnestness and ardour needful to do it. It is one thing to know of the existence of great treasures, another to possess them; and it is the possession, not the knowledge, which renders a man rich. Similarly, there is a difference between the knowledge of God and the fear of God, and it is not the knowledge, but the fear of Him, which renders a man truly wise, provided it be a fear which makes [a durable] impression on the soul. Would you call a person wise whom his own acquirements render vain? It is only the most foolish of persons who would call those wise who, when they had known God, glorified Him not as God, nor rendered thanks to Him. For my part. I am rather of the Apostle s opinion, when he says that their heart was manifestly foolish (Rom. i. 21, 22). And truly the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, because the soul begins to have discernment of, and inclination for, God when He has stricken it with fear, not when He has communicated to it knowledge. If you fear the righteousness of God, if you fear His power, then, inasmuch as He is righteous and powerful, you incline to Him with preference and choice; for fear is a kind of preference. It (preference) renders one wise (sapor sapientem facit), as knowledge makes one knowing, and riches render one rich. To what purpose, then, is the former place? It serves only to prepare us for wisdom. There you are prepared for it, that here you may enter upon its possession. The preparation for it is the attainment of a certain degree of knowledge. But this is followed only too easily by the elation of vanity, unless this be repressed by fear; and therefore it is rightly said, The fear of the Lord is t/ie beginning of wisdom, since this 1 Affection sentiment.

fear first opposes itself to that which the Apostle declares is foolishness. The former, then, gives a certain approach, as it were, to wisdom, but the latter an entrance into it. Nevertheless, the beholder finds perfect rest neither in the one nor in the other, because in the one God appears, as it were, full of care, in the other full of trouble. Seek not, then, the bedchamber of the Bridegroom in these spots, whereof the one resembles rather the audience chamber of a professor, the other the tribunal of a judge.

15. But there is a place where God is beheld as truly tranquil and in repose; it is, in fact, the place, not of a judge, not of a teacher, but of a Bridegroom. I do not know how it may be with regard to others, but as far as concerns myself, that is for me a chamber into which entrance has sometimes been granted unto me; but, alas! how rarely that has happened, and for how short a time it has lasted! It is there that is clearly recognised the mercy of the Lord from everlasting and to everlasting upon them that fear Him. Happy is he who can say: 1 am a companion of all them that fear Thee, and of them that keep Thy precepts (Ps. cxix. 63). The decree of the Lord standeth fast; His purpose of peace endureth upon them who fear Him, forgiving the evil actions and rewarding the good which they have done, and, by a marvellous method of His mercy, making, not only those things which are good, but also those which are evil, work together for their good. O truly blessed, and, indeed, the only blessed one is he, unto whom the Lord will not impute iniquity! (Ps. xxxii. 2). For there is none without sin, no not one; for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God (Rom. iii. 23). But who shall lay anything to the charge of God* s elect 7 (Rom. viii. 33). It is sufficient for all righteousness to me to have Him upon my side, against whom alone I have offended. Everything which He has decreed not to impute unto me is as though it had not been. Not to sin is the righteousness of God, but the forgiveness of God is the righteousness of man. I have seen these things, and can bear witness to the truth of that saying: Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin, for His seed abideth in him (1 John iii. 9). Now, the heavenly seed is the eternal predestination, wherewith God hath loved His elect, and bestowed graces upon them in His Beloved Son, before the foundation of the world; beholding them in Him with favour, that they might be rendered worthy to see His power and His glory, and be made sharers in the inheritance of Him, to whose image and likeness they were to be conformed. These, then, I have looked upon as having never sinned, because, even though they are seen to have sinned in time, their offences do not appear in eternity, because the charity of their Father covers the multitude of sins.1 He calls them blessed, then, whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered

(Ps. xxxii. i). Then I have felt on a sudden so great a joy and confidence arising in me, that it surpassed the fear which had gone •before it in the place of horror — I mean in that of the second vision — and it seemed to me as if I were one of those blessed ones. O that it had lasted longer! Again and again do Thou visit me, O Lord, with Thy salvation, that I may see the good of Thy chosen^ that I may rejoice in the gladness of Thy nation (Ps. cvi. 4, 5).

16. O place of true repose, and which I may not unfitly call by the name of chamber! O place in which God is beheld, not, as it were, aroused and in wrath, nor as distracted with care [of all His great creation], but in which is experienced the influence of His good, and favourable, and perfect will! That vision does not terrify, but soothes; it does not arouse an unjust curiosity, but allays it; and tranquillizes the spirit in place of wearying it. Here true rest is felt. The God of peace renders all things peaceful, and the soul, looking up with fixed gaze at His ineffable stillness, is itself awed into quiescence. It is as if one beheld some king or great judge, who, after the hearing of causes in his court all the day long, dismisses his crowds of attendants, puts an end to the labours of his office, returns with night to his peaceful palace, enters into his chamber with those few companions whom he condescends to honour with his intimacy in private, and there enjoys his repose with the more confidence because it is in such complete retirement, and because, as he looks peacefully around, he sees only the faces of those who are dear to him. If it should ever be the happy lot of any of you to be caught up and withdrawn for awhile into that hidden and mysterious sanctuary of God, and not to be called away from it either by the needs of the body, by the sting of some care, or, it may be, by the haunting pang of some sin, or, at least, by the inrushing flood of ideas and images belonging to this world, which are very difficult indeed to banish, such an one will be able in truth, when he returns to us again, to lift up his head and say: The King hath brought me into His chamber. And yet I would not rashly affirm that this would have been that very chamber into which the Bride rejoices to have entered. It is indeed a chamber, and the chamber of the King; but of the three that we have pointed out as included in the threefold vision, there is that one alone in repose and peace. For, as we have already shown, in the first chamber there is but a brief and fleeting repose, and in the second none whatever; because in the first God is beheld as wonderful and admirable, and the curiosity is violently excited to search out the numerous instances of His glory; while in the second He is beheld as terrible, and human weakness is thrown into terror at the sight of Him. But in the third He is beheld not as terrible, and He even deigns to appear not so much admirable, as lovable, serene and peaceful, sweet and gentle, and full of mercy towards them who look unto Him.1

17. Now that you may retain in memory a brief summary of what I have said to you about the cellar, the garden, and the chamber of the Bridegroom, at unusual length in this sermon, remember that there are three times, three merits, and three kinds- of reward. In the garden, take note of the times; in the cellar, of the merits; and in the bedchamber, of the rewards, in that threefold contemplation of the soul that is seeking and searching for the chamber of the King. As for the cellar, we have spoken of it sufficiently. But with regard to the garden and the chamber, if there should appear to be something to be added or further explained, I will not pass over an opportunity of doing so. If not, let what has been said suffice, without repetition, so that I may not weary you (which God forbid!) by my words, which are spoken to the praise and glory of the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God

PRINCIPALLY AGAINST THE DETESTABLE VICE OF DETRACTION: AND IN WHAT RECTITUDE IN A MAN CHIEFLY CONSISTS.

NOW at length for the third time, dear brethren, the eye* of Providence has looked favourably from heaven upon my return to you from Rome, and a more peaceful aspect of affairs has smiled upon us at length. The furious anger of the faction of Peter Leonis has cooled, their schism has come to an end, the Church has regained peace. That wicked one who for eight years almost has troubled it by a terrible schism, has been brought to nothing in the sight of all. Shall it be in vain that I have been restored to you after perils so great? Since I have been granted to your desires, let it be for your spiritual advancement also; the life which I owe to your merits, I desire to devote to cares for you and your salvation. Since then you wish that I should continue, what I began long since, my comment on the Song of Songs, I willingly do so, and I think it better to resume the discourse which was interrupted, than to commence something new. But I fear lest, my mind being at all times unequal to that duty, and having been for so long a time unused to the discharge of it, and distracted by matters very different, my thoughts should be too weak and unworthy for a subject so sublime. But that which I have, I give unto you; and it may be that God, having regard to my faithful endeavour to serve Him, may enable me to give even that which I have not. If it be otherwise, then let not my will, but my want of ability be blamed for it.

2. Now, the place where we ought to commence, I think, is at this passage: The upright love thee (i. 4). But before we begin to explain it, let us see who it is speaks thus. For we ought to supply what the author does not say. Perhaps, then, we may attribute these words to the young maidens, whose are the sentences which precede them.1 For after they had said to her, * We will rejoice and be glad in thee, remembering thy bosom, which is better than wine' (and there is no doubt that there they speak to their mother); they continue with the words which follow: The upright love thee, I believe that they added this on account of some of their number who had not the same sentiments, although they seemed to run equally well; who sought their own advantage, not walking sincerely and in simplicity, but taking occasion to murmur against her, because she entered alone into the storehouses of the Bridegroom. Which is no other than that the Apostle makes mention of: Perils from false brethren (2 Cor. xi. 26). These are they, against whose taunts the Bride herself, later on, is obliged to defend herself, replying to them: I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem (i. 5). It is then to console her because of those who murmur and blaspheme, that it is said by those others who are souls good, simple, humble, and gentle: The upright love thee, 1 Have no care/ they say, 4 for the unjust blame of those blasphemers, when it is quite clear that The upright love thee' It is a goodly consolation, in truth, when we do good and are spoken ill of by the evil, if the righteous love us. The esteem of the good, with the approving testimony of conscience, is sufficient for us against the tongues that speak evil. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof and be glad; yes, shall be glad (Ps xxxiv. 2). Let me be pleasing to those who are gentle, and I shall endure with equanimity whatsoever the envy of the abandoned ( perditarum) shall be desirous to utter against me.

3. It is, then, in this sense, that I understand what is here said: The upright love T/iee, Not unfitly, as I think, since everywhere,