Manuale [Incertus]

MANUAL, ONE BOOK. PREFACE. The rationale of this work. Invocation of God. Since we are placed in the midst of snares, we easily grow cold toward heavenly desire. Therefore we stand in constant need of a reminder, so that, roused to our true and highest good, God, we may run back to Him when we drift away. For this reason, not from the rashness of presumption, but rather from love of my God, I have devoted my labor to this little work for His praise, so that from the more elegant sayings of the holy Fathers I might always have with me a brief and manual word about my God, from the fire of whose reading, whenever I grow tepid, I may be kindled into His love. Now be present to me, my God, whom I seek, whom I love, whom I confess with heart and mouth, and whom I praise and adore with whatever strength I have. My mind, devoted to You, inflamed with Your love, sighing for You, gaping for You, desiring to see You alone, has nothing sweet except to speak of You, to hear of You, to write of You, to converse of You, to revolve Your glory frequently in my heart, so that Your sweet memory may be some repose for me amid these storms. Therefore I invoke You, most desired one, I cry out to You with a great cry in my whole heart. And when I invoke You, I certainly invoke You within myself; for I would not exist at all unless You were in me; and unless I were in You, You would not be in me. You are in me, because You abide in my memory: from it I have known You, and in it I find You when I recall You, and I delight in You from You, from whom are all things, through whom are all things, and in whom are all things.

CHAPTER ONE. The Functions of God. You, Lord, fill heaven and earth, bearing all things without burden, filling all things without confinement, always acting, always at rest, gathering and not needing, seeking though nothing is lacking to you, loving without burning, jealous and secure, you repent and do not grieve, you grow angry and are tranquil, you change your works but do not change your plan, you receive what you find, and you have never lost; never needy, and you rejoice in gains; never avaricious, and you exact interest; you pay out more than you owe to one to whom you owe nothing, or it is always paid out more to you so that you owe, and who has anything that is not yours? You repay debts owing to none, you give away debts losing nothing. You who are everywhere, and everywhere whole; who can be perceived, and cannot be seen; who are absent nowhere, and yet are far from the thoughts of the wicked; who are not absent even where you are far; because where you are not present by grace, you are present by vengeance. You who are present everywhere, and can scarcely be found; whom we follow standing still, and cannot apprehend. You who hold all things, fill all things, embrace all things, exceed all things, sustain all things. You who teach the hearts of the faithful without the noise of words. You who are not extended in places, nor varied in times, nor have comings and goings. You who dwell in inaccessible light; which no man has seen, nor can see (1 Timothy 6:16).

Remaining quiet in yourself, you move everywhere throughout the whole: for you cannot be cut or divided, because you are truly one; nor are you made into parts, but you hold the whole, and fill the whole, and illuminate and possess the whole. CHAPTER TWO. On the Same Subject. If the books of the world were to fill the world, your ineffable knowledge could not be told. But since you are unspeakable, you can in no way be written or confined. You are the fountain of divine light, and the sun of eternal brightness. You are great without quantity, and therefore immeasurable; good without quality, and therefore truly and supremely good; and no one is good except you alone, whose will is work, whose willing is power, who made all things which you created from nothing by will alone. You who possess every creature of yours without any need, and govern without labor, and rule without weariness, and there is nothing that disturbs the order of your empire, either in the highest or in the lowest. You who are held in all places without place, and contain all things without compass, and are present everywhere without position and motion. You who neither repent of having made anything, which you cannot do, since you can do nothing you cannot, nor have you ever repented of anything you have done. By whose goodness we are made, and by whose justice we pay penalties, and by whose mercy we are freed. Whose omnipotence governs, rules, and fills all that it created. Nor do we say that you fill all things so that they contain you; but rather that they are contained by you.

Nor do you fill all things piecemeal, nor is it to be thought in any way that each thing receives you according to the magnitude of its own portion—that is, the greatest more, the least less—since you are rather yourself in all things, and all things in you. Whose omnipotence encloses all things, nor can anything find a way to escape your power. For whoever does not have you appeased will by no means escape you angry. CHAPTER III. Desire for God. Its Effect. Therefore, most merciful God, I invoke you into my soul, which you prepare to receive you, through the desire that you inspire in it. Enter, I pray, into it, and fit it to yourself, that you may possess that which you have made and remade: that I may have you as a seal upon my heart. I beseech you, most holy one, do not abandon me who calls upon you, since before I called upon you, you called and sought me, so that I, your servant, might seek you, and by seeking find you, and having found you, love you. I have sought and found you, Lord, and I desire to love. Increase my desire, and grant what I ask: for if you gave me all that you have made, it would not suffice for your servant, unless you gave yourself. Therefore give yourself to me, my God, give yourself back to me. Behold, I love; and if it is too little, let me love more strongly. I am held by your love, I burn with your desire, I delight in your sweet memory.

Behold, while my mind sighs for you and meditates on your ineffable mercy, the very burden of the flesh weighs less, the tumult of thoughts ceases, the weight of mortality and miseries does not dull as usual, all is silent, all is tranquil, the heart burns, the spirit rejoices, memory is vigorous, intellect shines, and the whole spirit, kindled by the desire of your vision, sees itself seized by the love of invisible things. Let my spirit take wings to fly like an eagle and not fail; let it fly and arrive at the beauty of your house and the throne of your glory, so that there, at the table of the refreshment of the heavenly citizens, it may feed on your hidden things, in the place of pasture, near the most abundant streams. Be our exultation, you who are our hope, our salvation and redemption: Be our joy, you who will be our reward. Let my soul always seek you, and grant that in seeking it may not fail. CHAPTER IV. On the misery of the soul which does not love Christ. Woe to the miserable soul which neither seeks nor loves Christ; it remains dry and wretched. He loses what he lives, who does not love you, God. He who cares to live not for your sake, O Lord, is nothing and counts for nothing; he who refuses to live for you is dead; he who has no taste for you is foolish. Most merciful one, I commend, render, and grant myself to you, through whom I am, live, and have sense; in you I confide, hope, and place my entire hope, through whom I will rise, live, and rest; I desire, love, and adore you, with whom I will remain, reign, and be blessed.

A soul that does not seek you, nor love you, loves the world, serves sins, and is subject to vices; it is never quiet, never secure. May my mind always serve you, most pious one; may my pilgrimage always sigh for you; may my heart burn in your love; may my soul rest in you, my God; may it contemplate you in ecstasy of mind; may it sing your praises in jubilation; and may this be my consolation in this exile of mine. Let my mind take refuge under the shadow of your wings from the heats of the thoughts of this world. Let my heart rest in you, a great sea swelling with waves. O God, rich in all goods and the most lavish giver of the feast of heavenly satiety, give food to the weary, gather the scattered, free the captive, and restore the torn. Behold, it stands at the door and knocks; I beseech you by the bowels of your mercy, with which you visited us, rising from on high, that the door be opened to the wretched knocker, so that with free steps it may enter into you, and rest in you, and be refreshed by you, the heavenly bread. For you are the bread and the fountain of life, you are the light of eternal brightness, you are all things from which the righteous who love you live.

CHAPTER V. Prayer of One Inviting God into Himself. God, light of hearts that see you, and life of souls that love you, and strength of thoughts that seek you, grant that I may cleave to your holy love. Come, I pray, into my heart, and from the abundance of your sweetness inebriate it, that I may forget these temporal things. I am ashamed and weary to suffer such things as this world does. It is sad to me what I see, grievous everything I hear of transitory things. Help me, Lord my God, and give joy in my heart: come to me that I may see you. But narrow is the house of my soul, until you come to it, and it be enlarged by you; it is ruinous, repair it. It has many things that offend your eyes, I confess and I know: but who will cleanse it? or to whom other than you shall I cry out, "Cleanse me from my hidden faults, Lord; and from those of others spare your servant" (Ps. 18:14)? Make me, sweet Christ, good Jesus, make me, I pray, by your love and desire to lay down the burden of carnal desires and earthly lusts. Let the flesh be subject to the soul, the soul to reason, reason to your grace; and subject me inwardly and outwardly to your will. Grant that my heart, my tongue, and all my bones may praise you. Expand my mind, and raise up the gaze of my heart, that even with swift thought my spirit may touch you, eternal wisdom abiding above all things. Dissolve me, I pray, from the bonds by which I am held constrained: that leaving all these things, I may hasten to you, cleave to you alone, attend to you alone.

CHAPTER VI. How Blessed Are the Saints Who Depart from Here. Blessed is the soul which, freed from the prison of the earth, seeks heaven at liberty, which beholds you, most sweet Lord, face to face, which is afflicted by no fear of death, but rejoices in the incorruption of eternal glory. It is tranquil and secure, fearing neither enemy nor death. It now possesses you, the merciful Lord, whom it long sought and always loved: joined to the hymn-singing choirs, it sings forever the honey-sweet songs of perpetual festivity to the praise of your glory, O Christ, good king Jesus. For it is inebriated from the abundance of your house, and you water it with a torrent of pleasure (Ps. 35:9). Blessed is the fellowship of the heavenly citizens, and the glorious solemnity of all who return to you, from the sad labor of this our pilgrimage to the pleasantness of beauty, to the comeliness of all splendor, and to the dignity of all elegance, where your citizens continually behold you, O Lord. Nothing at all that disturbs the mind is given to be heard there by the ears. What songs, what organs, what canticles, what melodies are sung there without end! There always resound the honey-flowing organs of hymns, the most sweet melody of the Angels, the wondrous song of songs, which are sung forever by the heavenly citizens to your praise and glory. Bitterness and every harshness of gall have no place in your region.

For there is no evil there nor malice, there is no adversary and assailant, nor is there any enticement of sin, there is no want there, no disgrace, no strife, no reproach, no accusation, no fear, no disquiet, no punishment, no doubt, no violence, no discord; but there is there supreme peace, full charity, jubilation and eternal praise of God, secure rest without end, and joy always in the Holy Spirit. O how fortunate I will be, if I hear the most delightful songs of your citizens, the hymns, the honey-sweet praises bringing forth due honor to the highest Trinity! But I am exceedingly happy, if I myself merit to sing a canticle to the Lord Jesus Christ from the sweet songs of Zion. CHAPTER VII. The Goods of Eternal Life. O vital life, everlasting life, and eternally blessed, where there is joy without sorrow, rest without toil, dignity without trembling, wealth without loss, health without languor, abundance without failure, life without death, perpetuity without corruption, blessedness without calamity. Where all goods are in perfect charity, where there is beauty and vision face to face, where there is full knowledge in all things and through all things, where the highest goodness of God is beheld, and the illuminating light is glorified by the saints, where the present majesty of God is seen, and this food of life without defect satiates the mind of the beholder. They always see, and they desire to see; they desire without anxiety, and they are satiated without disgust.

Where the true sun of justice refreshes all with the wondrous vision of its beauty, and so illuminates all the citizens of the heavenly fatherland that they themselves shine—light, that is, illuminated by God, light itself illuminating beyond all the splendor of our sun and the brightness of all the stars, clinging to the immortal Godhead; and through this made immortal and incorruptible, according to the promise of the Lord Savior: Father, those whom you have given to me, I wish that where I am, they also be with me; that they may see my glory, that all may be one, just as the Father is in me, and I in you, and they in us are one (John 17:24, 21). CHAPTER VIII.

of this present life’s misery. The kingdom of heaven, the most blessed kingdom, a kingdom without death and vacant of end, to which no times succeed through eternity; where a continuous day without night knows no time, where the victorious soldier is heaped with ineffable gifts, a noble crown embracing perpetually: if Christ’s divine piety would command me to lay down this burden of flesh, so that I might pass into the eternal joys of his city to rest, join the most holy choirs of heavenly citizens, stand with the most blessed spirits of the Creator’s glory, behold the present face of God, be touched by no fear of death, lose eternal [joy], hold all earthly things cheap, no longer deign to look upon or recall this valley of tears; a life laborious, a life corruptible, a life full of all bitterness, a life mistress of evils, handmaid of hells, which humors swell, pains weaken, heats dry up, air makes sick, eating inflates, fastings waste, jests dissolve, sadnesses consume, anxiety constricts, security dulls, riches make boastful, poverty casts down, youth exalts, old age bends, infirmity breaks, grief depresses; where the devil lies in wait, the world flatters, the flesh takes delight, the soul is blinded, the whole man is disturbed: and to all these so many and such great evils furious death succeeds, and puts an end to vain joys in such a way that, when they have ceased to be, they are thought never to have existed.

CHAPTER IX. Solace from God is not lacking. But what praises or thanksgivings are we able to offer to you, our God, who does not cease to console us even amid these great afflictions of our mortality by the wondrous visitation of your grace? Behold me, wretched, full of many sorrows: while I fear for my life, while I consider my sins, while I dread your judgment, while I think upon the hour of death, while I shudder at the torments of Tartarus, while I am ignorant with what strictness my deeds are weighed by you, while I am utterly unaware with what end I shall close them, and while I ponder these and many other things with myself under God—and amid these childish complaints and excessive lamentations and deep sighs of the heart, you take up my sad and anxious mind onto the high ridges of mountains, to the little streams of sweet waters, where you prepare before my eyes a table of manifold provision, which refreshes the weary spirit and gladdens the sad heart; and, finally revived by these delights, forgetful of my many miseries, raised above the height of the earth, I rest in you, true peace.

CHAPTER X. A Petition for the Love of God. I love you, my God, I love, and I wish to love you more and more. Give me, Lord Jesus, beautiful above the sons of men, that I may desire you, that I may love you, as much as I wish, as much as I ought. You are immense, and you ought to be loved without measure, especially by us whom you have so loved, so saved, for whom you have done such great and such things. O love, which always burns and is never extinguished! Sweet Christ, good Jesus, my God Charity, kindle me entirely with your fire, your love, your affection, your desire, your charity, your joy and exultation, your piety and sweetness, your pleasure and longing, which is holy and good, which is chaste and pure: so that, wholly filled with the sweetness of your love, wholly vaporized by the flame of your charity, I may love you, my sweetest and most beautiful Lord, with my whole heart, with my whole soul, with all my strength, and with my every intention, with great contrition of heart and a fountain of tears, with great reverence and trembling, having you in my heart, and on my lips, and before my eyes always and everywhere; so that no place in me may lie open to adulterous loves.

CHAPTER XI. Another Prayer for the Gift of Tears and Divine Aid, Especially During the Sacred Mysteries. Most beautiful Jesus Christ, I ask you, by that most sacred outpouring of your precious blood by which we were redeemed, grant me contrition of heart and a fountain of tears, especially when I offer you prayers and petitions, when I sing psalms of praise to you, when I recall or utter the mystery of our redemption, the manifest sign of your mercy, when, though unworthy, I stand at the sacred altars, desiring to offer that wondrous and heavenly sacrifice, worthy of all reverence and devotion, which you, my Lord God, the immaculate priest, instituted and commanded to be offered in commemoration of your love (Luke 22), that is, of your death and passion, for our salvation, for the daily restoration of our frailty. Let my mind be strengthened amid such great mysteries by the sweetness of your presence; let it feel you near, and rejoice before you. O fire that always shines, O love that always burns, sweet Christ, good Jesus, eternal and unfailing light, bread of life that refreshes us and does not fail in you; you are eaten daily and yet remain whole: shine upon me, kindle me, illuminate and sanctify your vessel, empty it of malice, fill it with grace and keep it full; so that for the salvation of my soul I may eat the food of your flesh, so that by eating you, I may live from you, walk through you, arrive at you, and rest in you.

O sweetness of love and love of sweetness, may my belly consume you, and may the nectar of your love fill my innermost being, so that my mind may bring forth a good word. Charity, my God, who are sweet honey, white milk, the food of the great, make me grow in you, so that I may be eaten by you with a healthy palate. CHAPTER VII. To direct every thought toward Christ. In whom we already reign. You are the food by which I live, the hope to which I cling, the glory I desire to attain. You, hold my heart, guide my mind, direct my intellect, suspend my love and my life, and draw my thirsty spirit into the supernal streams. Let the tumult of the flesh be silent, I pray; let the phantasies of earth and water and air and sky fall silent. Let dreams and imaginary revelations be silent, every tongue, every sign, and everything that passes away. Let the soul itself be silent to itself, so that it may transcend itself, not thinking of itself, but of you, my God: for you are truly my whole hope and trust. For in you, my God and our Lord Jesus Christ, most sweet, most kind, and most merciful, is each one of us both a portion, and blood, and flesh. Therefore, where my portion reigns, I believe I reign; where my blood rules, I trust I rule; where my flesh is glorified, I know I am glorious. Although I am a sinner, I do not despair of this communion of grace. And if my sins prevent me, my substance demands it; and if my own faults exclude me, the communion of nature does not repel me.

CHAPTER XIII. Trust in Christ. For the Lord is not so harsh that he would forget a man and not remember the one whom he himself carries; that he would not love his own flesh, his own members, and his own bowels. Surely I would have despaired on account of my excessive sins and vices, my faults and my infinite negligences, which I have committed and daily, unceasingly commit in heart, word, and deed, and in every way by which human frailty can sin: had not your Word, God of mine, become flesh and dwelt among us. But I no longer dare to despair, since he, subject to you unto death, and that the death of the cross, took away the bond of our sins, and affixing it to the cross, crucified sin and death. In him, however, I breathe securely, who sits at your right hand and intercedes for us. Trusting in him, I desire to reach you, in whom we have already risen and revived, have already ascended into heaven, and sit in the heavenly places. Praise to you, glory to you, honor and thanksgiving to you.

CHAPTER XIV. How Great the Delight Therein. Most loving Lord, who so loved, saved, justified, and exalted us; most loving Lord, how sweet is your memory! The more I meditate on you, the sweeter and more lovable you are to me. Therefore it greatly delights me to contemplate your goodness with the pure gaze of my mind and the sweetest affection of pious love, in this place of my pilgrimage, according to my small measure, for as long as I subsist in these fragile members. For I am wounded by the dart of your charity, I burn with vehement desire for you, I long to reach you, I yearn to see you. Therefore I will stand upon my watch, and with vigilant eyes I will sing psalms in spirit, I will sing psalms in mind, and with all my strength I will praise you, my maker and restorer; I will pierce the heavens with my mind, and by desire I will be with you: so that in this present misery I am held only by my body, but with you I am always in thought and eagerness and every desire; so that my heart may be there where you are, my desirable, incomparable, and most lovable treasure. But behold, my most loving and merciful God, when I wish to contemplate the glory of your immense goodness and piety, my heart is not sufficient: for your light, your beauty, your power, your glory, your magnificence, your majesty, and your charity exceed every sense of the human mind.

Just as the splendor of your glory is immeasurable, so too is the ineffable kindness of your eternal charity, by which you adopt as sons those whom you created from nothing, and join them to yourself. Therefore, the good things that are yours delight me greatly with the pure gaze of the mind and the sweetest affection of pious love in the place of my pilgrimage, according to my own measure; for as long as I am subject to the fragile limbs, I ceaselessly desire to long for and love your wonderful love and beauty. CHAPTER XV. Nothing Too Harsh for the Sake of Gaining the Glory of Heaven. My soul, if every day we had to endure torments, if we had to suffer hell itself for a long time in order to be able to see Christ in his glory and to be joined to his saints, would it not be a great thing to suffer everything that is sad, so that we might be made partakers of such a great good and such great glory? Therefore, let demons lie in wait, let their temptations be prepared, let fasts break the body, let garments press down, let labors weigh heavily, let vigils dry up, let this one shout at me, let that one disturb me, let cold bend me, let conscience murmur, let heat burn me, let my head ache, let my chest burn, let my stomach swell, let my face grow pale, let my whole body grow weak, let my life fail in pain, and my years in groans (Ps. 30:11), let rot enter into my bones, and let it swarm beneath me, so that I may rest on the day of tribulation, and ascend to our girded people (Hab. 3:16).

For what will be the glory of the just, how great the joy of the saints, when each face will shine like the sun; when the Lord, with distinct orders, will begin to review His people in the kingdom of His Father, and to restore the promised rewards to each one according to their merits and works, exchanging earthly for heavenly, temporal for eternal, small for great? Truly, it will be the summit of happiness when the Lord leads His saints into the vision of paternal glory, and makes them sit in the heavens, so that He may be all in all. Chapter XVI. Its price. Blessed joy and joyful blessedness: to see the saints, to be with the saints, and to be a saint; to see God, and to have God forever and beyond! Let us think of these things with diligent mind, let us desire them with the whole desire of our heart, so that we may be able to reach them quickly. If you ask how this can be done, or by what means, by what merits, or by what aids; listen: this matter is placed in the power of the doer, because the kingdom of heaven suffers violence (Matthew 11:12). The kingdom of heaven, O man, seeks no other price than yourself: as much as you are worth, give yourself, and you will have it. Why are you troubled about the price? Christ gave Himself, that He might acquire the kingdom for you from God the Father: so give yourself, that you may be His kingdom, and that sin may not reign in your mortal body, but the spirit in the acquisition of life.

CHAPTER XVII. The Happiness of Paradise. My soul, let us return to the celestial city, in which we are enrolled and decreed citizens. Therefore, as citizens of the saints, and domestics of God, and as heirs of God, but co-heirs of Christ, let us consider the renowned happiness of our city, insofar as it is possible to consider. Let us say, then, with the Prophet: How glorious are the things said of you, City of God! As the dwelling of all who rejoice is in you (Psalm 86:7). For you are founded on the exultation of the whole earth: there is no old age in you, nor the misery of old age; there is no maimed, no lame, no hunchbacked, no deformed person in you; while all advance to the perfect man, to the measure of the age of the fullness of Christ (Ephesians 4:15). What life is more blessed than this, where there is no fear of poverty, no weakness of sickness; no one is harmed, no one is angry, no one envies; no desire burns, no craving for food, no ambition for honor or power assails? There is no fear of the devil there, no snares of demons, the terror of Gehenna is far off, death neither of body nor of soul, but a joyful life by the gift of immortality. There will be no discord anywhere then; but all things harmonious, all things fitting: because there will be one concord of all the saints; peace contains all things and joy, all things are tranquil and quiet.

a perpetual splendor, not that which now exists, but so much brighter as it is more blessed, because that city, as it is read, will not need the light of the sun, but the omnipotent Lord will illuminate it, and its lamp is the Lamb (Rev. 21:23): where the saints will shine like stars for perpetual eternities; and like the splendor of the firmament, which instructs many (Dan. 12:3; Wis. 3:7). Wherefore there is no night there, no shadows, no gathering of clouds, nor any harshness of cold or heat: but such will be the temperateness of things as neither eye has seen, nor ear has heard, nor has entered into the heart of man (1 Cor. 2:9; Isa. 64:4), except of those who are found worthy to enjoy it, whose names are written in the book of life. But above all these things is to be joined to the choirs of Angels and Archangels, and of all the celestial Virtues; to behold the Patriarchs and Prophets, to see the Apostles and all the saints, to see also our parents. These things are glorious: but far more glorious is to discern the present face of God, to see the unconfined light. The preeminent glory, however, will be when we see God in himself, we will see and have him in us, whom to behold has no end.

CHAPTER 18. The sufficiency of love. The degrees of love. The soul, marked by the image of God, illustrious by its likeness, has within itself from God that by which it is always reminded either to remain with him or to return, if it has been moved by its affections, or rather its defects. And it not only has that from which it can breathe again in hope of pardon and in hope of mercy, but also that from which it dares to aspire to the nuptials of the Word, and to enter into a covenant of fellowship with God, and to bear with the king of the angels the sweet yoke of love. All this love does, if the soul shows itself like God through the will, to which it is like through nature: loving as it is loved. For love is the only one among all the soul's motions, senses, and affections in which the creature can, even if not equally, respond to the author, or reciprocate in like kind. When love has come, it translates and captivates all other affections within itself. Love is sufficient by itself, pleasing by itself, and for its own sake. It is itself the merit, itself the reward, itself the cause, itself the fruit, itself the use. Through love we are joined to God. Love makes one spirit from two; love makes willing the same and unwilling the same. Love first composes the manners; afterwards, it considers all that is present as if it were not present; in the third place, it beholds with a pure eye of the heart the higher and inner things. Through love, first honorable things are well conducted in the world; afterwards, even the honorable things of the world are despised; finally, even the inner things of God are beheld.

CHAPTER 19. By love we are joined to God. How one who loves bears himself. What love effects in him. God the Father is charity, God the Son is charity, the Holy Spirit is the love of the Father and the Son. And this charity requires something similar in us, namely charity, by which, as by a certain affinity of kinship, we are associated and conjoined. Love knows no dignity, but knows reverence. He who loves approaches God confidently through himself, and speaks to him familiarly, fearing nothing, hesitating at nothing. He who does not love loses what he lives; but he who loves always has his eyes upon God, whom he loves, whom he desires, in whom he meditates, in whom he delights, in whom he feeds, in whom he grows fat. Such a one, so devoted, sings, reads, and in all his works is so provident and circumspect, as if God were present before his eyes, as indeed he is; he prays as if he were taken up and presented before the face of majesty on the high throne, where thousands upon thousands minister to him, and ten times a hundred thousand attend him (Dan. 7:10). The soul which love visits, it awakens when sleeping, moves and softens it, and wounds its heart, illuminates the dark, opens the closed, inflames the cold, mitigates a harsh, irascible, and impatient mind, puts vices to flight, suppresses carnal affections, corrects morals, reforms and renews the spirit, and restrains the movements and light acts of a slippery age.

All these things love does when it is present; but when it has withdrawn, the soul begins to lie languid, as if you had removed the fire from a boiling pot. CHAPTER 20. The nature of love. Love is a great thing, by which the soul confidently approaches God through itself, steadfastly clings to God, familiarly questions God, and consults Him about everything. The soul that loves God can think of nothing else, speak of nothing else; it scorns the world, loathes everything; whatever it meditates, whatever it speaks, savors of love, smells of love; so has the love of God claimed it for itself. Whoever wishes to have knowledge of God, let him love. He who does not love approaches reading, meditating, preaching, and praying in vain. The love of God begets love in the soul and makes it attend to itself. God loves in order to be loved. When He loves, He wants nothing other than to be loved, knowing that those who have loved Him are blessed by love. The loving soul renounces all its affections and devotes itself entirely to love alone, so that it may be able to respond to love by returning love. And when it has poured itself out entirely into love, how does it compare to that perennial outflow of the fountain? Love and the lover, the soul and God, the Creator and the creature do not meet with equal abundance; yet if it loves itself entirely, nothing is lacking where the whole is present. Let the soul that loves not fear; let the soul that does not love tremble. The loving soul is borne by vows, is drawn by desires, disregards merits, closes its eyes to majesty, opens them to delight, placing itself in the Savior and acting confidently in Him.

The soul, through love, withdraws and departs from bodily senses, so that it does not feel itself, while it feels God. This happens when the mind, enticed by the ineffable sweetness of God, in a certain way steals itself from itself, or rather is snatched away and glides from itself, so that it may enjoy God with delight. Nothing is so delightful, were it not so fleeting. Love gives familiarity with God; familiarity gives boldness; boldness gives taste; taste gives hunger. The soul which the love of God touches can think of nothing else, desire nothing else; but often sighs, saying, "As the hart desires the springs of water, so my soul desires you, O God" (Ps. 41:2). CHAPTER 21. The love of Christ. The fruit of the passion and death of Christ. God, through love, came down to men, came into men, became man. Through love, the invisible God became like his servants; through love, he was wounded for our sins. A safe and firm resting place for the weak and sinful is in the wounds of the Savior. I dwell there securely; the entrails lie open to me through the wounds; whatever I lack from myself, I take from the entrails of my Lord; for mercy flows abundantly, nor are there lacking openings through which it may flow out. Through the openings of the body, the secrets of the heart lie open to me, the great sacrament of piety lies open, the entrails of mercy of our God lie open, in which he visited us, the Orient from on high. The wounds of Jesus Christ are full of mercy, full of piety, full of sweetness and charity. They pierced his hands and his feet, and they perforated his side with a lance.

Through these wounds I am allowed to taste how sweet is my Lord God: for truly He is sweet and gentle and of great mercy to all who invoke Him in truth, to all who seek Him, and especially to those who love Him. Abundant redemption has been given to us in the wounds of our Savior, a great multitude of sweetness, a fullness of grace, and a perfection of virtues. CHAPTER XXII. How useful is remembrance in temptations and adversities. When some foul thought assails me, I run to the wounds of Christ. When my flesh oppresses me, by the remembrance of my Lord’s wounds I rise again. When the devil lays snares for me, I flee to the bowels of mercy of my Lord, and he withdraws from me. If the heat of lust stirs my members, by the remembrance of the wounds of the Son of God it is extinguished. In all adversities I find no remedy so efficacious as the wounds of Christ: in them I sleep secure, and I rest without fear. Christ died for us. Nothing is so deadly that it is not saved by the death of Christ.

CHAPTER XXIII. And against despair. My sole hope is in the death of my Lord. His death is my merit, my refuge, my salvation, my life and my resurrection: my death is the Lord’s compassion. I am not lacking in merit as long as He has not forgotten His mercies. And if the Lord’s mercies are many, I am great in merits. The more powerful He is to save, the more secure I am. I have committed a great sin, and I am conscious of many offenses; yet I do not despair, because where offenses have abounded, grace also superabounds. He who despairs of pardon for his sins denies that God is merciful. He does great injury to God who mistrusts His mercy: as far as in him lies, he denies that God has charity, truth, and power, in which my whole hope consists, namely in the charity of adoption, in the truth of promise, and in the power of fulfillment. Let my foolish thought murmur now as much as it will, saying, Who indeed are you, and what is that glory, and by what merits do you hope to obtain it? And I will confidently answer, I know in whom I have believed, because in His exceeding charity He has adopted me as a son, because He is truthful in promise, powerful in performance, and He may do what He wills: I cannot be terrified by the multitude of my sins, if the death of the Lord comes to mind, because my sins cannot overcome Him. The nails and the lance cry out to me that I am truly reconciled to Christ, if I have loved Him.

Longinus opened the side of Christ for me with the lance (John 19:34), and I entered, and there I rest secure. Let him who fears love; for love casts out fear (1 John 4:18). No remedy is so powerful, so effective against the burning of lust as the death of my Redeemer. He stretched out his arms on the cross and spread his hands, ready for the embraces of sinners. Between the arms of my Savior I wish both to live and to die. There I will securely sing: I will exalt you, Lord, because you have taken me up, and you have not delighted my enemies over me (Psalm 30:2). Our Savior bowed his head in death, to give kisses to his beloved. As often as we are pierced with love for him, we kiss God. CHAPTER XXIV. An awakening of the soul to the love of Christ. My soul, marked with the image of God, redeemed by the blood of Christ, betrothed by faith, endowed with spirit, adorned with virtues, enrolled with the Angels, love him by whom you are so much loved, attend to him who attends to you, seek him who seeks you, love your lover by whom you are so much loved, whose love has anticipated you, who is the cause of your love. He is the merit, he is the reward, he is the fruit, he is the use, he is the end. Be diligent with the diligent, free with the free, pure with the pure, holy with the holy. As you have prepared yourself for God, so must he appear to you. God is gentle and mild, and of great mercy (Psalm 85:5); he requires gentle, mild, sweet, humble, and merciful ones.

Love him who led you out of the pit of misery and the mire of the dregs. Choose him as your friend above all your friends: he who, when all things have been taken away, alone will keep faith with you. On the day of your burial, when all your friends withdraw from you, he will not abandon you; but he will protect you from the roaring beasts prepared for food, and will lead you through an unknown region, and will bring you to the streets of heavenly Zion, and there he will place you with the angels before the face of his majesty, where you will hear that angelic melody: "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts." There is the song of joy, the voice of exultation and salvation, thanksgiving, and the voice of praise, and alleluia forever. There is the summit of happiness, surpassing glory, overflowing joy, and all good things. My soul sighs ardently, longs vehemently, that you may be able to arrive at that heavenly city, of which such glorious things have been said, in which, as of all rejoicing ones, is the dwelling (Psalm 86:7). By love you can ascend; for one who loves nothing is difficult, nothing is impossible. The soul that loves ascends frequently and runs familiarly through the streets of heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patriarchs and prophets, greeting the apostles, admiring the armies of martyrs and confessors, and contemplating the choirs of virgins. Heaven, earth, and all things that are in them do not cease to tell me to love my Lord God.

CHAPTER XXV. The soul is only satisfied by the highest good. The value of a good will. The human heart, not fixed in the desire for eternity, can never be stable, but is more changeable than all change: it passes from one thing to another, seeking rest where there is none. In these fleeting and transitory things, in which its affections are held captive, it cannot find true rest: because it is of such great dignity that no good except the highest good can suffice for it; and it is also of such great freedom that it cannot be forced unwillingly to another. Therefore each one's own will is the cause of his damnation or salvation; and for this reason nothing richer than a good will is offered to God. A good will leads God down to us, and directs us to him. Through a good will we love God, we choose God, we run to God, we reach God, and we possess God. O good will, through which we are reformed into the likeness of God and made like him! A good will is so lovable to God that he himself does not wish to dwell in a heart in which a good will has not been. A good will inclines the Trinity of that supreme majesty to itself. For wisdom illuminates it to the knowledge of truth, charity inflames it to the desire of goodness, fatherhood preserves in it what it created, lest it perish. What is the knowledge of truth?

First know yourself, and what you ought to be, so that you may strive to be it; and what is to be corrected, correct it. Then know and love your Creator; for this is the whole good of man. CHAPTER XXVI. Knowledge of truth. God’s benefits to man. The causes of the Incarnation. See, therefore, how ineffable is the love of divine charity toward us. He created us from nothing, and gave us everything we have. But because we loved the gift more than the giver, the creature more than the Creator, we fell into the snare of the devil and became his servants. God, moved by mercy, sent his Son to redeem the servants; he also sent the Holy Spirit to adopt the servants as sons. He gave his Son as the price of redemption, the Holy Spirit as the privilege of love, and finally he keeps himself entirely as the inheritance of adoption. Thus God, as the most pious and most merciful lover of men, out of desire or love for man, not only spent his own goods, but also himself, in order to recover man, not so much for himself as for man himself. So that men might be born from God, God first was born from them. Who is so hard that the love of God, thus forestalling man, would not soften him—such a vehement love, I say, that God deigned to become man for the sake of man? Who can hate a man, whose nature and likeness he sees in the humanity of God? Truly, he who hates him hates God, and thus loses whatever he does.

God indeed became man for the sake of man, so that He might be the Redeemer, who is both Creator and Redeemer; and so that man might be redeemed by Him; and so that God might be loved more intimately by man. He appeared in the likeness of man, so that both senses of man might be blessed in Him, and the eye of the heart might be refreshed in His divinity, and the eye of the body in His humanity; so that whether entering or departing, human nature, created by Him, might find pasture in Him. CHAPTER XXVII. The Effects of the Holy Spirit: The Joy of Iniquity, Vanity, and the Holy Spirit. For our Savior was born for us, crucified and died for us, so that by His death He might destroy our death. And because the cluster of flesh had been carried to the winepress of the cross, and when the pressing was done, the new wine of divinity had begun to flow, the Holy Spirit was sent, by whom the vessels of hearts might be prepared, and new wine might be placed in new wineskins: first, so that hearts might be cleansed, lest what was poured in be polluted; and afterwards, so that they might be bound, lest what was poured out be lost; cleansed from the joy of iniquity, bound against the joy of vanity. For what is good could not come unless what is evil first departed. The joy of iniquity pollutes, and the joy of vanity dissipates. The joy of iniquity renders the vessel foul, and the joy of vanity makes it leaky. The joy of iniquity is when sin is loved, and the joy of vanity is when transitory things are loved. Therefore cast out what is evil, so that you may be able to receive what is good.

Pour out bitterness, so that you may be filled with sweetness. The Holy Spirit is joy and love. Cast out the spirit of the devil and the spirit of this world, that you may receive the Spirit of God. The spirit of the devil works the joy of iniquity, and the spirit of the world the joy of vanity. And these joys are evil, since one has guilt, the other the occasion of guilt. But the Spirit of God will come, when the evil spirits have been cast out; and He will enter the tabernacle of the heart, and will work good joy and good love, by which the love of the world and the love of sin are expelled. The love of the world entices and deceives, the love of sin defiles and leads to death. The love of God illumines the mind, cleanses the conscience, gladdens the soul, and reveals God. CHAPTER XXVIII. The mind and action of one who loves God. He in whom the love of God is always thinks when he may reach God, when he may abandon the world, when he may escape the corruption of the flesh, when he may find true peace. He always has his heart raised up, and his desire lifted to the heights. When he sits, when he walks, when he rests, or when he does anything, his heart does not depart from God; he exhorts all to the love of God, he commends the love of God to all, and he shows with heart, mouth, and deed how sweet the love of God is, and how evil and how bitter the love of the world is. He scorns the glory of this world, he rebukes its anxiety; and he shows how foolish it is to place trust in things that pass away.

He marvels at the blindness of men who love these things; he also marvels that all do not abandon all these transitory and perishable things. He thinks that what tastes sweet to him is sweet to everyone, that what he loves pleases everyone, that what he knows is manifest to everyone. He frequently contemplates his God, and in that contemplation he is sweetly refreshed: the more frequently, the more happily. For He is always sweet to behold, always sweet to love and to praise. CHAPTER 29. The heart's rest. Attentive prayer. Indeed, this is the heart's true rest, when the whole is melted by desire into the love of God, and it desires nothing else, but in what it holds, it delights with a certain happy sweetness, and by delighting it rejoices. But if by some vain thought or occupation with things it is drawn away from there even a little, it hastens back there with the utmost speed, considering it an exile to delay anywhere else. For just as there is no moment in which a man does not enjoy or use God's kindness or mercy, so there ought to be no moment in which he does not have Him present in memory. Therefore, whoever speaks with God in prayer and is suddenly drawn away from His sight, as if from the eyes of one who neither sees nor hears, is held bound by no small fault.

This, however, happens when a man follows his own evil and importunate thoughts, and prefers to God some most vile creature, towards which his parched gaze is easily distracted: that is, by revolving it or thinking of it more often in his thought than of God, whom he ought assiduously to recall, to adore the Creator, to await the Saviour, or to fear the Judge. Therefore, whatever withdraws his gaze from Him must be utterly fled and execrated. Whoever loves the world, look to yourself whither you are going. This way you tread is a very evil way, full of ruin. CHAPTER XXX. Flee whatever turns you away from God. What man lost by sin, what he found. Flee, then, O man, for a little while from your occupations, and hide yourself a little from the tumultuous thoughts of the world. Cast off now your burdensome cares, and postpone your laborious distractions; be free for a little while for God, and rest a little in Him. Enter into the chamber of your mind, shut out everything except God and those things which avail for seeking Him. With the door closed, seek Him, and give your whole heart to God, and say, I seek your face; your face, O Lord, I require. Come now, therefore, O Lord my God, teach my heart where and how to seek you, where and how to find you. Lord, if you are not here, where shall I seek you, absent? But if you are everywhere, why do I not see you, present? But surely you dwell in an inaccessible light (1 Tim. 6:16). But how shall I approach the inaccessible light? Or who will lead me and bring me into it, that I may see you in it?

Next, by what signs, by what face, am I to seek you? I have never seen you, my Lord God, I have never known your face. What will he do, most high Lord, what will this distant exile of yours do? What will your servant do, anxious with love for you, and cast far from your face? He longs to see you, and your face is too far from him. He desires to approach you, and your dwelling is inaccessible. He yearns to find you, and knows not your place. He strives to seek you, and is ignorant of your countenance. Are you my God and my Lord, and have I never seen you? You made me, and remade me, and bestowed all my goods upon me; and I have not yet seen you, nor known you. In short, I was made to see you, and I have not yet done that for which I was made. Wretched is the lot of man, when he lost that for which he was made. A dire and harsh fall! What did he lose, and what did he find? What departed, and what remained? He lost the blessedness for which he was made, and found the misery for which he was not made. What departed is that without which nothing is happy, and what remained is that which by itself is nothing but wretched. Then man ate the bread of angels, which he now hungers for; now he eats the bread of sorrows, which he then did not know.

CHAPTER XXXI. Aspiration to the Knowledge of God. Why we are made in the image of God. And, O Lord, how long? How long, Lord, will you forget us? How long will you turn your face away from us (Ps. 12:1)? When will you look upon us and hear us? When will you illuminate our eyes and show us your face? When will you restore us? Look upon us, Lord, hear us, illuminate us, and show yourself to us: restore us, that we may be well, without whom we are so ill. Have mercy on our labors and our efforts toward you, who are nothing without you. You invite us, help us. I beseech you, Lord, let me not despair in sighing, but breathe again in hoping. I beseech you, Lord, my heart is embittered by its own desolation; sweeten it with your consolation. I beseech you, Lord, I have hungered to begin seeking you; do not let me depart fasting from you. I have come hungry to the rich, wretched to the merciful; do not let me depart empty and despised. Lord, I am bowed down, and I cannot look but downward: raise me up, that I may look upward. My iniquities have overtopped my head, they have enveloped me, and like a heavy burden they have weighed me down (Ps. 37:5). Unfold me and unburden me, lest the pit of darkness close its mouth over me. Let me be allowed to look up to your light, even from afar, even from the depths. Teach me to seek you, and show yourself to me seeking; for I cannot seek you unless you teach, nor find you unless you show yourself.

I will seek you by desiring, I will desire by seeking; I will find by loving, I will love by finding. I confess, Lord, and I give thanks, because you created in me this image of yours: that I may be mindful of you, think of you, love you. But it is so worn away by the attrition of vices, so obscured by the smoke of sins, that it cannot do that for which it was made, unless you renew and reform it. I do not attempt, Lord, to penetrate your height, because I in no way compare my intellect to it. I desire to understand your truth to some extent, which my heart believes and loves: for I do not seek to understand in order to believe, but I believe in order to understand. Therefore, Lord, who gives understanding to faith, give me that, as far as I know it is expedient, I may understand that you are as we believe, and that you are that which we believe. CHAPTER XXXII. What God is. Who is wholly good. And indeed we believe you to be something than which nothing greater or better can be thought. What then are you, Lord God, than which nothing greater or better can be thought? But what is this, except that which is the highest of all, existing alone through itself, which made all other things from nothing? Whatever is not this, is less than that than which nothing greater can be thought, but this cannot be thought of you. What good, therefore, is lacking to the highest good, through which every good exists? You are therefore just, truthful, blessed, and whatever is better to be than not to be. But how do you spare the wicked, if you are wholly just and supremely just? Is it because your goodness is incomprehensible, and lies hidden in an inaccessible light, which you inhabit?

Truly in the deepest and most secret depth of your goodness lies hidden the fountain from which the river of your mercy flows. For although you are wholly and supremely just, nevertheless you are merciful to the wicked for this reason, because you are wholly and supremely good. For you would be less good if you were merciful to no evil person. For better is he who is good to both the good and the evil alike, than he who is good only to the good. And better is he who is good to the evil both by sparing and by punishing, than he who is good only by punishing. Therefore you are merciful because you are wholly and supremely good. O immense goodness, which so exceeds every understanding, let that mercy which proceeds from such abundance come upon me: let it flow into me, which flows forth from you. Spare me through clemency, do not avenge me through justice. CHAPTER XXXIII. How great and what kind of good. Now rouse yourself, my soul, and raise up your entire intellect: and think, as much as you can, what kind and how great that good is which God is. For if individual goods are delightful, think intently how delightful is that good which contains the delightfulness of all; and not such as we have experienced in created things, but as much different as the Creator differs from the creature. For if created life is good, how good is creative Life? If made health is joyful, how joyful is Health which made all health? If wisdom in the knowledge of created things is lovable, how lovable is Wisdom which made and established all things from nothing?

Finally, if there are many and great delights in delightful things, what kind and how great is the delight in Him who made those delightful things themselves? He who enjoys this gift, what will be his, what will not be his? Certainly, whatever he wills will be his, and whatever he does not will will not be his. For there, the goods of soul and body will be his, such as neither eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has the heart of man conceived. CHAPTER XXXIV. All things are gifts in Him. Why then do you wander through many things, little man, seeking the goods of your soul and your body? Love the one good, in which are all goods; and it will suffice. Desire the simple good, which is every good; and it is enough. For what do you love, my flesh? What do you desire, my soul? It is there, it is there, whatever you love, whatever you desire. If beauty delights, the just will shine like the sun (Matt. 13:43). If swiftness, or strength, or freedom of the body, which nothing can oppose; they will be like the Angels of God (Matt. 22:30): because the animal body is sown, the spiritual body will arise (1 Cor. 15:44), by power and law, not by nature. If a long or healthy life, there will be sound eternity and eternal soundness: because the just live forever (Wis. 5:16); and the health of the just is from the Lord (Ps. 36:30). If satiety; they will be filled when the glory of the Lord appears (Ps. 16:15). If intoxication; they will be inebriated from the abundance of the house of God (Ps. 35:9). If melody; there the Angels sing without end to God.

If any pleasure, not impure but pure, the Lord will water them with the torrent of His pleasure (Ibid.). If wisdom, the very Wisdom of God will show itself to them. If friendship, they will love God more than themselves, and each other as themselves, and God will love them more than they love themselves: because they love Him, and themselves, and each other through Him; and He loves Himself and them through Himself. If concord, all of them will have one will, because there will be no will in them except the supreme will of God. If power, they will be omnipotent in their will, as God is in His. For just as God can do what He wills through Himself, so they will be able to do what they will through Him, because just as they will nothing other than what He wills, so He will will whatever they will; and what He wills cannot not be. If honor and riches, God will set His good and faithful servants over many (Matt. 25:23); indeed, they will be called and will be sons of God and gods, and where His Only Son is, there they will also be, co-heirs indeed of God, but co-heirs of Christ (Rom. 8:17). If true security, certainly they will be certain that that good will never in any way be lacking to them, just as they will be certain that they will not lose it of their own accord, nor that the loving God will take it away from His unwilling lovers, nor that anything more powerful than God will separate God and them. But what and how great is the joy, where such and so great a good is?

CHAPTER XXXV. The joy that will be theirs who enjoy it. The human heart, a needy heart, a heart experienced in hardships and miseries, indeed overwhelmed by miseries, how much would it rejoice if it abounded in all these things? Question your inmost self, whether it could contain its joy from such great blessedness. But certainly, if someone else, whom you loved entirely as yourself, had the same blessedness, your joy would be doubled; because you would rejoice no less for him than for yourself. If, however, two or three or many more had the same, you would rejoice as much for each one as for yourself, if you loved each one as yourself. Therefore, what will it be in that perfect charity of innumerable blessed angels and men, where no one will love another less than himself? For each one will rejoice for every other no differently than for himself. If, then, the human heart can scarcely contain its joy from its own great good, how will it be capable of so many and such great joys? And certainly, as much as each one loves someone, so much does he rejoice in that one's good. And just as in that blessed happiness each one will incomparably love God more than himself and all others with him, so he will rejoice beyond estimation in the happiness of God more than in his own and that of all others with him.

And if they love God so much with their whole heart, their whole mind, their whole soul, that yet the whole heart, the whole mind, the whole soul is not sufficient for the dignity of the love; certainly they will rejoice so much with their whole heart, their whole mind, their whole soul, that yet the whole heart, the whole mind, the whole soul is not sufficient for the fullness of joy. CHAPTER XXXVI. Whether it can be fully conceived here. Here always to increase in delight, love, and joy concerning God. My God and my Lord, my hope and the joy of my heart, tell my soul, if this is the joy of which you speak to us through your Son, Ask, and you shall receive; that your joy may be full, and more than full. For with a full heart, a full mind, a full soul, a full whole man, with that joy, still beyond measure joy overflows. Therefore not all of that joy will enter into the rejoicing ones, but the whole rejoicing ones will enter into that joy. Tell, Lord, tell your servant within my heart, if this is the joy into which your servants will enter, who will enter into the joy of their Lord. But certainly that joy with which your chosen ones will rejoice, neither has the eye seen, nor the ear heard, nor has it ascended into the heart of man (Isaiah 64; 2 Corinthians 9). Not yet, therefore, have I conceived or said, Lord, how much your chosen ones will rejoice. Surely they will rejoice as much as they will love; they will love as much as they will know. And how much will they know you, Lord, how much will they love you? Certainly neither has the eye seen, nor the ear heard, nor has it ascended into the heart of man in this life, how much they will know and love you in that life.

I pray to you, my God, that I may know you, love you, and rejoice in you; and if I cannot do so fully in this life, at least may I advance from day to day until that fullness comes. May the knowledge of you increase in me here, so that it may become complete there; may your love grow in me here, so that it may be full in reality there. True God, I ask that I may receive what you promise, so that my joy may be complete. Meanwhile, let my mind meditate on it, let my tongue speak of it, let my heart love it, let my mouth discourse on it, let my soul hunger for it, let my flesh thirst for it, let my whole being desire it, until I enter into the joy of my Lord: who is the triune and one God, blessed forever. Amen.