Homily of the Same Diadochus against the Arians

OF THE BLESSED MARK DIADOCHUS: A SERMON AGAINST THE ARIANS

^A I. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." The Theologian asserts that the Word is before the beginning, but those who follow the madness of Arius say, "There was a time when he was not." "The true light was," the evangelist cries out; yet those ridiculous people imagine that the eternal One is inferior to their own thoughts. For they suppose, through an excess of arrogance, that their godless speculations transcend the life of the divine Word. But if the life of God were surpassed by human understanding—which would be the mark of their own madness alone—how is it then that they worship the One who is, as they think, grasped by human reasonings? Or how do they desire life, and eternal life at that, from One who, as they suppose, began to live; not knowing, as it seems, that it is the property of eternal life alone to bestow life? "For I know," says the divine Job, "that he is eternal who is about to deliver me." For a life that has a beginning, even if its essence be an ineffable sea, can in no way bestow or create life. We shall prove this from things that are manifest and known to us all. For the water that is poured forth with inexhaustible abundance irrigates lands and often entire cities, remaining always rich; but that which increases by a certain confluence becomes rich internally only in a small measure, and is unable to impart it to land or city: for it does not abound with those blessed and generous veins so as to have what it could provide in abundance. But those men are senseless; whereas I say—or rather, the noble truth itself says—that every thought is inferior to the life of the Word of God. For just as the Father’s lack of beginning is incomprehensible, so too is the life of the Son unsearchable. Therefore, in the same way that the "I am who I am" is marveled at only by purified minds, so too is the "Was" believed in within an incomprehensible glory, because the Son is situated with the Father beyond all cognition. For the Cherubim, that is, the Seraphim, ^{B C D}

to whom a magnificent glory is said by the holy prophets to be inherent, are interpreted as an altitude and latitude of fiery knowledge; wherefore the divine Scripture depicts them with eyes on every side. Hence the divine John himself, in the revelation shown to him, having learned more clearly from the Lord himself the things pertaining to this through the angel of revelation, writes thus: "I am the Alpha and the Omega," saith the Lord God, "who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty." ^A Thus, because both the "Who is" and the "Who was" are believed in with one and an indivisible thought. It is therefore impossible—impossible, I say, for those who rashly lift their eyes above the Cherubim—to comprehend the life of Christ through imagination; even if one, by fashioning for himself in his mind infinite ages running onward, thinks that from this preconceived fortress he can hunt down that "Was," and the "Was" of the Word. For they can in no wise be grasped by speech or thought, not only by men, but also not by any of the supernal powers, whose mind is believed to constitute their entire being. Let the same judgment be held concerning the "Who is."

II. If, however, anyone should wish to think that the fact that the Father lacks a beginning constitutes a beginning for the Son, nothing prevents this. For the Father is the living spring of the ever-living Son. ^B For God was not at one time not a Father, and at another time did not become a Father; but since He is God without beginning, He is also Father without beginning. Wherefore, in the fact that the Father lacks a beginning, one must also understand the life of the Son. For the brightness of the paternal light is the generation of the true, beginningless light. For neither was the all-knowing and only powerful One ever without wisdom or power; nor, again, was that blessed light ever at any time without its radiance. But if at any time, according to them, the paternal light existed without radiance, then, according to the absurdity of those men, the light is no longer Father. For light devoid of radiance can in no way be called light. For how could it be? But this is what their opinion absolutely demands: to attribute the status of a created radiance to the glory of the uncreated light. Or what necessity was there for that most resplendent and blessed glory to have a radiance? Or how, again, is the Son called by the Apostle the "radiance of His glory," if indeed He had some peculiar beginning of essence? ^C But how could He possibly see thoughts and search the hearts and reins, if He were not by nature God? To whom, moreover, is it not manifest that a radiance is always light? And how will anyone dare to assert that the true light is not by nature God? For just as the true God, namely the Father, is understood to be the true light; so also the true light, namely the Son, is understood to be the true God. For there is nothing more estimable than the true light, nor is there anything equal to the true God, except the true radiance of His glory. Therefore, that which is true is uncreated; for which reason it is also called true, as being incomparable. But that which is created is in no wise true; forasmuch as the one was, whereas the other was not before it came to be. ^D Wherefore the former is impassible, in that it perceives all things by its glory; for it is true. But this which is seen, as we perceive, suffers in itself the appearance.

^A Indeed, the blessed evangelist John himself, in his Epistle, asserts that the Word is the true Son, and true God, and eternal life, teaching us clearly that the true light is the true God. Wherefore he also says that he is eternally in the bosom of the Father. For God, who is indivisible and all light, would not have had to carry a created son in his own ineffable bosom. And of this, again, a worthy Psalmist is witness; for, speaking as if from the person of the Father, he says: "With thee is the beginning in the day of thy power, in the splendors of thy saints: from the womb before the morning star I have begotten thee. The Lord has sworn, and he will not repent: thou art a priest forever according to the order of Melchisedech." The phrase "before the morning star" is allegorical. For the Creator of all things was not engendered after the making of heaven and earth. It declares nothing else than that the generation of the Son is utterly incomprehensible and inconceivable to everyone. For just as no one can, before the rising of the morning star, ^B behold with their gaze the brilliance of the solar light, even if he were to ascend the highest mountain; so neither can anyone comprehend the appearance of the Father’s light with the eyes of the mind, even if he were to ascend in the fantasy of his thoughts beyond all the ages, because that most hidden truth exists in a state of incomprehensibility. Therefore "before the morning star" stands in place of "before knowledge," for the star of the day is knowledge. Wherefore this same Psalmist, interpreting the "before the morning star" in another Psalm, says: "His name remains before the sun." But he who remains before the sun is altogether incomprehensible both to speech and to thought; for since he was timeless, he is superior even to the mind. For the most just God and Father of us all did not give that supercelestial, holy, and ineffable world, nor our own entire inhabited earth, as an inheritance to a created son; but to his true Son, ^C through whom also he made all things, as an inheritance, so that, being as he is the Word of God and Son, he might rule over all his rational creatures. To whom also the all-good and all-desirable Father has said: "Sit at my right hand, until I make thine enemies the footstool of thy feet." For the Son was a stranger in the flesh when he was taken up from us into the heavens, where he was never a stranger by the nature of the Father. Therefore, the phrase "Sit at my right hand" is spoken by God the Father to the Word of God who is always with him. For the Father, who said, "I will not give my glory to another," would not have spoken that saying—which essentially manifests the nature of the relationship—to a Son of a different substance; a thing which, I think, not even the idol-makers of the Greeks ever dared to imagine. ^D Since let them tell me—those who think themselves Christians, but are not—what is the need for a created God to the uncreated God? For if God were lacking in divine virtue, so that he made to himself an instrument of power, where...

^A is his perfection? But if he were held by a desire for overflowing goodness, what necessity for this could there be, tell me, for God, who is neither subject to affections nor to indigence? Or was there any need at all, according to their senselessness, for the true God to have a Son of whatever kind, if only that he might be called a Father? I am ashamed to mention the folly of those who call themselves Christians, yet are imbued with the deadly inventions of heathen error.

III. But, they say, he who was begotten did not exist before he was begotten. I, however, say again that he existed just as much as the one who is Father existed; for he was the radiance of the glory of the Father’s light. ^B Whence I also know the generation of Christ to be superior to any cause. For God did not beget the Son out of a desire for paternal dignity, but as he was always God, so he was always also the Father of glory. Wherefore, just because human thought does not attain to his generation, one ought not to dare to adjust the eternal One to one’s own thoughts; since, indeed, some one of the foolish will easily dare to imagine the same thing even about the Father himself. For it is impossible for anyone, even if he be raised as high as possible by the imagination of his mind, to frame for himself the life of God. For how can he who consists of a finite nature be able to conceive in his mind the infinite life of God? But as far as he is able, he ventures with his imagination; yet when he arrives at the boundaries of his own thoughts, because of the poverty of his mind, he imagines even the very ingenerateness of the Father from some impure principle. And these things, indeed, their wise men argue, devising them from certain syllogistic figures.

^C IV. But others, and almost all of them, the text: *The Lord created me the beginning of his ways*, ^D always alleging for the subversion of the truth, do not blush. I, however, will add this saying also as a faithful advocate for myself in God; although the saying is proverbial, by a certain oblique glance it proves to me one sense. For he who is uncreated was created by the assumption of flesh, with the approval of the Father; becoming man for our sake, in order that man might be reconciled to God, and God might begin henceforth to come to and remain with man. For man has truly become the place of God, the partition wall of enmity having been dissolved through the incarnation of the Word of God. Therefore the Lord himself, in the Gospels, interpreting for us the force and truth of this saying, says: *I am the way, and the truth, and the life.* The truth, indeed, because he is begotten before all hills, as the Word; that is, he proceeds by an efficacious motion as wisdom from the Wise, so that by the living Word those things which were not might be called into life by the living God. For the wisdom of the Wise is the Word and the life of the only existing God. Therefore, also, all things, as we are persuaded, have been called into existence through him,

for the Existent called into being things that were not, through the Existent, so that through him those that were not might appear.

And the Way, because, as I have said, from his incarnation the Father comes to man, and man approaches the Father. For "No one comes to the Father, except through me." And therefore he says again: "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word; and the Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our home with him." ^B Thus, that "The Lord created me" pertains to the incarnation of the Word, who is the wisdom and power of God; for that which he was about to say demonstratively, once flesh was assumed, he foretold as though present, inasmuch as he is God. In the same way, concerning the plundering of his garments, the only Potentate and the only Truthful One, the Lord, appears to have foretold through the Prophet: "They divided my garments among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots." That which was to happen, but had not yet occurred, he, who is truthful, declared again. For nothing is remote from the eyes of the Word, on account of his most exquisite sharpness of sight; indeed, God attains even to those things which are to be at some time as being very near. "For God," he says, "am I who draws near," says the Lord. Therefore, wishing to remind us of that proverb, as I said, the One who is without error said: "I am the way"—that is, he clearly pointed to himself as the one spoken of by Solomon.

And for this reason, also, the apostle Peter in their common Acts is seen saying: "Therefore let all the house of Israel know with certainty that God made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified." ^C For the Father made him Christ, anointing him with an intellectual anointing, on account of the assumption of the flesh; not as if he himself had need of sanctification for his own progress, but so that through his blessed mediation, the Holy Spirit of adoption residing in us might make us sons of the grace of the Father. And he made him Lord, because he gave him authority over all things as his only-begotten Son, since through him we have all been delivered from the evil of corruption. He then who was Lord by nature was shown to be the Lord of all, when, having made him manifest through the incarnation to his own inheritance, the Father said: "Ask of me," he says, "and I will give thee the nations as thine inheritance, and the ends of the earth as thy possession."

^D V. But they also say again that the one who said, "The Father is greater than I," cannot be equal; inasmuch as he confessed himself to be inferior to the Father. But I am not persuaded from the divine Scriptures that the Father is greater than the Son, either in power or in glory, but only in that he takes the name of Father first on account of the order of nature. For which reason, that grateful and true, and—in his entirety—sweet Son, is seen to have used that expression. For the head of the Son, that is to say of the Word, is the all-wise Father, not in excess of honor or glory, but in the hypostasis of fatherhood, according to

^A which he himself also exists. For since the Father is the root of the true Word, He is the true God. And Scripture, it says, Job, will find his root; that is to say, we shall know that the Word exists from the bosom of the Father. For the bosom of God is in truth the root of the Word, naturally, in which the Word is rooted. Nor let anyone be so insane, or ever suppose, that there was ever a time when the wise Father did not have the Word, or that that paternal and most resplendent light was ever for a moment without its radiance. ^B This thing the Lord himself, wishing to indicate most clearly to us, says in the Gospels: "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father"; for in the radiance the brightness of the light is entirely known. And again: "Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me?" He speaks also of his inseparable existence in the Father: "I and the Father are one." For the omnipotent God would not have chosen to use a created Word; for He would thus have lacked, before generation, that which He possesses through Him.

VI. And these, indeed, and similar ones, are our defenses. The adversaries ^C of the truth, however, again taking up the evangelical words, say that the Son does not know the coming day or hour of judgment, but only the Father; and that therefore He is not from the substance of the Father. But I say, or rather, healthy reason says, that He who has all things which are the Father's in magnificent honor (of which in truth he is mindful, who in truth is the Son of the Father, as when he says: "None is good, save one, even God"; and, "It is not mine to give, but to them for whom it hath been prepared of my Father"), said this so that we might know clearly that he does not assert that he knows this as if defining it by his own authority, but that he knows this also in the will, or rather the knowledge, of the Father: for he is His Word and wisdom and radiance. Wherefore he is also inseparable, as by nature and will, so also by the predestinations of the Father: "For I," he says, "and the Father are one." ^D For one would surely not say that he who is eternally in inseparable proprietorship in the bosom of the Father knows differently what the Father knows; since there is one will and one knowledge in the Wise One and in the wisdom of the Wise One. Wherefore also the Father works all things that are the Son's as in the Son, always willing all things that the Father wills. He gave him also authority to execute judgment, as the Son of man: "And he gave him authority to execute judgment," he says, "because he is the Son of man." Just as he also says again: "All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth." It was given to him who had it, so that both the truth of the Father might appear, and the goodness of the Son might be recognized. Since, receiving through the incarnation what he possesses through the communion of nature with the Father, he did not refuse the primary cause of the generosity that saves us, namely the Father's charity. This he poured out upon us through the goodness of his Son, so much so that he made men participants...

^A of that incomparable and unstained nature.

VII. But again, those vehement patrons of ignorance say that the Son is so far inferior to the Father in all things that the Apostle said of the Savior that he too would be subjected. Splendid. But what is the cause of his not yet being subjected, if he is absolutely to be subjected? For if he were inferior to the Father in essence, he would by that very fact have been subjected to the Father from the beginning. But if he is not subjected until now, yet will be subjected, what then is the reason for either his present liberty or his future servitude, when all creation must be liberated in the glory of God? ^B It is madness, pure madness. For if man is to be made like unto God and become a participant of the divine nature in the liberty of the Spirit, is the Son then to be subjected to the Father, with whom he has made all things? What can anyone think about this? Everything, according to them, is devoid of rational demonstration. But I say that the subjection of the Son is this: that I, namely his member, am subjected to God in the person of Christ; that is to say, to be glued to the charity of the Father and to wish for nothing else than what God wishes, *so that God may be all in all*. Therefore, we also have the Psalmist saying: *Shall not my soul be subject to God? for from him is my salvation.* For the Son, as mediator in his own flesh, ^C brings the son of mediation—myself, I say again—entirely to the Father, so that he may perfectly fulfill the form of reconciliation. For the natural Son of the Father is the head of all sonship. On this account, I also dwell in him; for this reason, he is also a priest after the judgment before the Father. On account of his own perfect adoption, as it became the Son, and on account of his nature, yet as high priest on account of the mediation, he offers thanksgivings to the Father: *I will announce your name to my brethren; in the midst of the Church I will praise you.* The Apostle, having contemplated these things beforehand in the Spirit, said: *Then the Son himself will be subjected to him who subjected all things to him, that God may be all in all.* From this we may clearly learn that all things consist from one cause, namely the truth of the Father: *For he who sanctifies,* he says, *and they who are sanctified are all from one.* ^D From this we know that the Son is unbegotten—for he sanctifies—while we are begotten, for we are sanctified. For this reason the Son, becomingly and high-priestly as I said, will glorify the Father for our sake, bringing us to him as his own inheritance—which is to *deliver the kingdom to God and the Father*—inasmuch as he exists from his blessed nature; and he is glorified in turn by the Father with paternal addresses: *For from you,* he says, *is my praise in the great Church.* And he calls that the great Church which is to be the assembly of both holy angels and just men. And for us, as servants who have been liberated, it is fitting that we should—

^A unceasingly praise His magnificent goodness, celebrating with equal glory Him who divinely bestows the blessings of His priesthood along with the Spirit, just as now and unto the ages.

VIII. And indeed, what do those people have in mind who do not wish to understand subjection in this way? For if they assume that the Son will no longer sit with God, they are raving more and more. For how is it possible that He who once sat with the Father (for they refuse by all means to say that He sits always, being indeed very poor in their thoughts) should, in the newness of those blessed ages, be deprived of such an honor? But if they contend that this subjection entails the abdication of His kingdom, in this way they accuse God of injustice, in that He will render Him who so perfectly fulfilled His every will lower in honor than what He possesses; whereas He ought, even if He were not equal to the Father—as they suspect—to be deemed worthy of eternal honors, inasmuch as He fulfilled all things according to the mind of the Father. And among men, indeed, he who is deemed worthy of a kingdom reigns as long as he lives; yet they pronounce that the Word of God, who ever lives, will no longer reign; and this at the very time when all things are subject to His kingdom; so that the impious may be judged by Him in eternal fire, ^B but those who love Him may reign with Him in eternal light—that is, they shall exult in His kingdom unto all ages, as those to whom, through His power, all things have been subjected. For just as in the person of Christ adoption will be subjected to the Father, so through the power of Christ all things will be subjected to those who are Christ’s, that God may be all in all. For when the Father is spread abroad through the grace of His holy Son and the Holy Spirit into all the saints, there will henceforth be one will of God and of men. The Apostle says that He reigns until He puts His enemies under His feet, that I may comprehend it in a few words (for why should I pursue at length the folly of ^C irrational men?): he did not define the kingdom of the Son to be for a time, as these people suppose, but rather that, after He has fulfilled the judgment of men and rendered to each according to his works, He will thenceforth display the pontifical form of His kingdom, full of glory (wherefore he calls Him also the pontiff of future blessings), no longer judging—for He has fulfilled the judgment—but as pontiff supplying the paternal blessings to His inheritance unto eternity. For it is the property of a kingdom to judge, but of the priesthood to take pleasure in its own blessings, with those who have passed through the fire and judgment because of their purity. For He reigns as Son, but He loves as Father: For behold, He says, I and the children whom God has given me. ^D He performs the priesthood, moreover, as Christ, administering love in priestly love as the Word. Thus, not then will the Father—the King of the ages—reign in ignorance. For to Him, says Daniel, was given the dominion, and the honor, and the kingdom, and all

the peoples, tribes, and tongues shall serve Him. His authority is an eternal authority, which shall not be abolished. ^B But as He then judges, that all things being subjected to Him through judgment, and death itself having been consumed by the resurrection of all—"For the last enemy," he says, "is abolished, death"—He may prepare a holy and most glorious world for the Father, free from all passion, and bound together incessantly by the glory of love.

IX. By no means, therefore, let our good God Jesus Christ be set aside by the impious, He who is also the Lord of all the heavenly powers, the eternal King, the radiance of the glory, the ^C truthful character of the Father’s substance, the indivisible partaker of the Father’s thoughts, He who is from the Existent and is in the Existent, the good Shepherd of all His rational flocks, the wisest regulator of all intellectual natures; the Angel who became the messenger of the Great Counsel, so that He might eventually render the ethereal beauty accessible even to men; He who put on human nature as a certain elegant breastplate, that He might wound the author of hatred with love; He who always wills those things which the Father wills. For in other cases one might find a father thinking one thing and a son another; since the division of nature causes us to hold ^D diverse thoughts; but this One, because He remains indivisibly in the bosoms of the Father, He simply both wills and does all things that the Father wills. For He is not of more limited thoughts than the Father, so that He might err in operation from the Father's counsels, or be entirely unable to do what the Father does; but being God from God, whatever the Father wills, He altogether wills; wherefore He is also able to do whatever the Father is able to do. "For just as the Father," He says, "raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom He wills." But He wills whatever the Father desires. For it is altogether the property of the Word to will what He wills whose Word He is. The same things are to be thought also concerning the holy and adorable Spirit. For He is by Himself perfect and omnipotent, and the bestower of all understanding and life, as existing in the glory of the Father and the Son. For the Spirit is also the Word, which has form, and indeed the Spirit is omniscient, since it is a most wise Spirit. The source of these is the Father. Therefore, He is also in Himself venerable and adorable and Lord; as proceeding from the glory of the Lord and Father, and in one glory with the Father and the Son is both co-glorified and co-worshipped, both now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

TO THE READER CONCERNING THE FOLLOWING WORK. (Biblioth. PP. Lugdun., V, 884.)

The time in which Saint Diadochus lived is something we are still investigating. That he was among the number of the ancient Fathers is testified to by Saint Maximus the Confessor, who contended and wrote against the Monothelites in the time of the Emperor Heraclius and Pope Honorius. For in his *Responses concerning difficult passages of Scripture* to Thalassius, he mentions this holy author and cites and interprets the hundredth chapter of this book, *On Purgatorial Fire*, which does not a little to commend the authority of Diadochus. He calls Diadochus "Father" besides, as it seems to me, out of honor and reverence. Furthermore, Photius mentions him in his *Bibliotheca*—that is, in the list of books he read—in these words, which we have translated word for word: "I read a book comprised of one hundred chapters with ten definitions in the manner of a preface: the first, of faith, 'A thought of God free from all passion'; the second, of hope, 'A migration of the mind toward things hoped for'; the third, of patience, 'To behold the invisible God with the eyes of the mind as if He were visible, and to abide thus'; the fourth, of the non-avaricious, 'To wish not to possess what another wishes to possess'; the fifth, of knowledge, 'To be ignorant of oneself, being placed outside oneself in God'; the sixth, of humility, 'A continuous forgetting of one's own righteous deeds'; the seventh, of the absence of anger, 'A vehement desire not to be angry'; the eighth, of chastity, 'A sense always clinging to God'; the ninth, of charity, 'To love greatly those by whom one suffers injury'; the tenth, of perfect transformation, 'To reckon the bitterness of death as joy in the delight of God.'" Subject to these definitions are one hundred chapters. This book, moreover, is composed for those who exercise themselves in perfection, and for those who are trained by the very actions that bring about perfection, for knowledge perceived through experience is easily taught by words. The author, as the inscription of the book itself testifies, is Diadochus, Bishop of Photice, which is in Old Epirus. Thus far Photius the Constantinopolitan.

I found in another copy this inscription, which can serve as a synopsis explaining the argument and purpose: "Discourses on judgment and spiritual discernment by Diadochus, Bishop of Photice in Epirus, concerning thought and knowledge, and how one must arrive at the perfection of life, with God as guide, so that each of us might bear fruit according to the figure of the evangelical parable."

DIADOCHUS, BISHOP OF PHOTICE IN OLD EPIRUS OF ILLYRICUM, ONE HUNDRED CHAPTERS ON SPIRITUAL PERFECTION. Translated by Francisco Turriano of the Society of Jesus.

CHAPTER I. On the three virtues which, as leaders, ought to precede the spiritual contemplation of the mind.

Let faith, hope, and charity—but especially charity—precede all spiritual contemplation, ^A as leaders; for faith and hope teach us to despise the things that are seen, but charity unites the soul with those very virtues of God, examining with a certain sense of the mind Him who cannot be seen.

CHAPTER II. How and when a man is made good.

God alone is good by nature; man, however, is made good by the practice of good morals. When he is changed into that good which he is not by himself, through Him who is good by His own power—namely, when the soul clings to God through virtue as much as it wishes to cling to Him by working to its utmost capacity—it is then that he becomes good; for the Lord says: "Be ye good and merciful, as your heavenly Father is."

CHAPTER III. On sin, how and when it begins to exist.

Evil is not in nature, nor is anyone evil by nature: for God did not make evil. When, however, someone in the desire of his heart forms that which does not exist in reality, then it begins to exist, in the measure that the one who does it wishes it. It is necessary, therefore, by the effort of the remembrance of God and of every good work, to neglect the habit of evil: for the nature of good has power more than the habit of evil, inasmuch as the former truly exists, while the latter does not exist at all, except only when it is being acted out.

CHAPTER IV. When and how we attain to being in the likeness of God.

All of us men are ^B to the image of God, but that likeness belongs only to those who, through much charity, have surrendered their freedom to God in servitude. For when we are not our own, then we are like Him who has bound us to Himself through charity.

reconciles, which no one will attain unless he has persuaded his soul not to admire the fleeting glory of this life.

CAPUT V.

The power of free will is the will of the rational soul, which is moved promptly wherever it wishes. We shall persuade this to be prompt toward the good alone when we have consumed the memory of evil through our thoughts.

CAPUT VI.

The light of true knowledge is to discern, without falling, the right from the wrong. When this occurs, then the way of justice, which leads the mind to God, the sun of justice, introduces that same mind further into an infinite illumination of knowledge, as one now seeking charity with confidence. Therefore, one must rescue justice from those who dare to inflict insult upon it, but not with angry indignation; for the zeal of piety is manifested not by holding anyone in hatred, but by reproving them.

CHAPTER VII.

Spiritual speech fills the sense of the mind; for the action of charity is borne from God, which is why our mind is not then tormented by the discussion of divine things. For at that time it does not suffer the lack which causes anxiety, since it dilates itself in contemplation just as much as the action of charity desires. Therefore, it is a beautiful thing to wait always, through the exercise of charity, for the light of speech by faith. For nothing is more destitute than that mind which philosophizes about God apart from God.

CHAPTER VIII.

One must not set a mind that is not illuminated upon spiritual contemplations, nor, when filled with the abundant kindness of the Holy Spirit, should one approach speaking immediately. For where there is lack, it brings ignorance; where there is abundance, it does not allow one to speak. For then the soul, as if drunk with the charity of God, desires through silence to enjoy the contemplation of the glory of the Lord. For this reason, it is necessary, having observed a mediocrity of illumination, to arrive at speaking of divine things; for this measure provides a certain form of glorious speech. Abundant illumination, however, nourishes the faith of the one speaking in faith, so that he who teaches may be the first to taste the fruit of knowledge through charity. For he says, "The laboring farmer must be the first to partake of the fruits." ^A

CAPUT IX.

The charisms of the Holy Spirit are indeed one, wisdom and knowledge, just like all other divine charisms; yet they have a proper operation, as do all the others. Therefore, the Apostle testifies that to some is given the word of wisdom, to others the word of science, or knowledge, according to the same Spirit. For knowledge joins man to God by experience, without exciting the soul to speak about things. From this it happens that some of those who lead a solitary life in the study of virtue are indeed illuminated by knowledge itself in their sense, but do not approach discourses about divine things. But wisdom, if it is granted to anyone—which is rare—out of the fear of God, manifests the operations of knowledge itself; ^B since knowledge is wont to illuminate by operation, but wisdom by speech. In truth, prayer brings knowledge, along with much rest in the emptiness of perfect anxiety; but the non-ambitious exercise of the holy Scriptures, and above all the grace of the Giver, brings wisdom.

CAPUT X.

When that part of the soul is angered which is moved against the passions, one must know that it is a time for silence, for it is a time of struggle; but when you see that the inconstant movements of the soul itself are being calmed, either through prayer or through almsgiving, let it be affected by love and study of the Scriptures, strengthening the wings of the mind with the bond of humility. For no one can speak of the greatness of God unless he ^C submits himself greatly and deems himself as nothing.

CAPUT XI.

Spiritual speech always guards the soul from the cupidity of empty glory; for when it helps all its parts, it makes it so that there is no need for the honor of men. Therefore, it always keeps the mind empty of imaginations, since it turns the whole toward loving God. But the speech of the wisdom of this world always invites a man to empty glory; for since it cannot help him by the experience of sense, it bestows the love of praise upon its pupils, as if fashioned and formed by ambitious men. Therefore, we shall discern this quality of divine speech without error if, in silence vacant of cares, we have consumed the times, which are not set for speaking, in the fervent memory of God. ^D

CAPUT XII. On self-love, on the love of God, and what is proper to one who loves God and one who loves himself.

He who loves himself cannot love God; but he who does not love himself because of the more excellent riches of love for God, he loves God. From this it follows that such a person never seeks his own glory, but rather the glory of God. For he who loves himself seeks his own glory; but he who loves God, loves the glory of his Creator. For it is proper to a soul that feels and loves God always to seek the glory of God in all the commandments it performs, but to be displeased by its own submission—because while glory befits God by reason of His majesty, submissiveness befits man, and through it we are rendered familiar to God. When we have done this, rejoicing in the glory of the Lord, following the example of John the Baptist, we shall begin to say without any intermission: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” ^A

CAPUT XIII. How it happens sometimes that someone seems to himself not to love God as he would wish, although he loves him most at that time, and whence this proceeds.

I have known someone who, although he grieved that he did not love God as he would wish, nevertheless loved God in such a way that his soul was constantly held by a vehement desire of this kind; in such a way that God indeed was glorified in him, while he himself was as nothing. Such a one is not praised by words, but recognizes what he is; for indeed, through an excessive desire for humility, he does not think of his own dignity, even though he serves God, as the law prescribes for priests. Yet, because of his zeal for loving God, forgetfulness of his own dignity steals upon him, as he hides—in the deep charity he has for God—any boasting about his own dignity through the spirit of humility, so that he already seems to himself, in his own estimation, a useless child at all times, as if he were a stranger to his own dignity, because of his desire for humility. This, indeed, we ought to do: to flee all honor and glory, on account of the excellent riches of love toward God, who truly loved us. ^B

CAPUT XIV. On one who loves God in the sense of the heart, and how this one comes to ecstatic love, having already placed himself entirely outside the love of himself.

He who loves God in the sense of the heart is known by Him; for as much as anyone receives the love of God in the sense of his soul, so much he loves Him. Wherefore, he who is of this sort vehemently loves the illumination of knowledge, until he feels it in the very sense of his bones, having already become oblivious of self, or rather, entirely transformed by charity. And such a one is indeed present in this life, yet not present: for while still dwelling in his body, he is a pilgrim because of charity, through a perpetual procession of the soul toward God; for being inflamed thereafter in his heart by the vehement fire of charity, he is glued to God as by a torch of desire, as if he were placed entirely outside the love of himself, because of the love of God, or as it is said, "Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be sober, it is for you." ^C

CAPUT XV. When someone begins to love his neighbor; and why friendship according to the flesh is quickly dissolved, but spiritual friendship is not.

When someone has begun to feel the charity of God abundantly, then he begins to love also his neighbor in the sense of the spirit. For this is the charity about which all the Holy Scriptures discourse; for friendship according to the flesh is not bound by the sense of the spirit, and it is dissolved very easily when some base occasion is found. Therefore, however much some irritation may occur in a soul in which God works, the bond of charity is not dissolved. For inflaming itself again by the heat of the charity of God, it is recalled immediately to virtue, and with great joy it seeks the love of the neighbor, even if it has received great insult or damage; for it consumes the harshness of contention with the sweetness of God. ^D

CAPUT XVI. On the love toward God in the sense of the heart, how it is acquired; and on perfect charity that purges without fear of God; and on another, not perfect, charity joined with the fear that purges.

No one can love God in the sense of the heart unless he first fears Him with his whole heart. For it is through the fear of God that it comes about that the soul, having been made pure and soft, applies itself to exercising charity; but no one will ever attain such a fear of God, which is called "purging," unless he has been placed outside all the anxieties of this life. For when the mind has attained stillness and much freedom from cares, then the fear of God disturbs it and purges it with great sense, casting out everything earthly and dense, so that it may draw it to love the goodness of God intensely. Wherefore, fear indeed exists with mediocre charity in those who are still being purged; but perfect charity belongs to those who have already been purged, in whom there is no longer fear. For perfect charity casts out fear. [alt-version omitted] Both things, however, belong only to the just, who perform virtues through the operation of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, sometimes the divine Scripture says: "Fear the Lord, all his saints"; at other times: "Love the Lord, all his saints," so that we may plainly understand that, as was said, fear of God exists with mediocre charity for those who are still being purged; but perfect charity belongs to those who have been purged, in whom there is no longer a thought of that fear, but rather an ardor and a continuous gluing of the soul to God through the operation of the Holy Spirit, as it is written: "My soul has adhered after you; your right hand has upheld me."

CAPUT XVII. How a sick soul begins to be healed through the fear of God, and is gradually led to perfect health through charity.

Just as wounds that happen to the body, after...

having become squalid and left without treatment, feel nothing if addressed by physicians, but once cleansed they feel the power of the medicine and are quickly healed; so the soul, as long as it is void of treatment and completely covered by the leprosy of pleasure, cannot feel the fear of God, even though the horrible and all-powerful tribunal of God be perpetually denounced to it. But after it has begun to be cleansed with great attention, then it feels, as it were, a certain remedy of life: the fear of God, which heals it by rebuking it, like a kind of fire without pain. Whence, being purified little by little thereafter, it arrives at perfect purification, charity increasing as much as fear decreases, so that thus it may arrive at perfect charity, in which there is no fear, as has been said; but rather all indolence, which the glory of God works. Let there be, therefore, for you a supreme, continuous, and perennial exultation: ^A and first indeed the fear of God, but then truly charity, the fullness of the perfection of the law in Christ.

CAPUT XVIII. How the soul, as long as it is involved in the cares of the world, cannot love God, nor rightly judge what its duty is towards Him.

A soul that is not yet released and free from the cares of the world will neither love God legitimately, nor will it worthily execrate the devil: for it is involved in the burden of this life as in a troublesome covering. Whence the mind of those who are such cannot recognize its own tribunal, so as to examine within itself, without error, the suffrages of judgment. Therefore, withdrawal is useful in every way.

CAPUT XIX. What things are proper to a pure soul.

Proper to a pure soul are speech without envy, a zeal devoid of malice, and a continuous love for the Lord of glory. For then the mind perfectly moderates and tempers its scales, standing by its reason as if in a most pure and incorrupt judgment.

CAPUT XX. That works are necessarily joined to faith, and faith to works.

Faith without works, and works without faith, will be disapproved in the same way; for it is necessary for the faithful to offer to the Lord a faith that manifests its deeds. For neither would faith have been reckoned unto our father Abraham for righteousness, had he not offered its fruit, his own son.

CAPUT XXI. What sort of faith is without works, and what sort is worked through love.

He who loves God and believes legitimately, the same performs the works of faith holily; but he who only believes and does not love, the same does not seem to have even the faith that he holds. For with a light mind he believes that in which the weight of the glory of charity does not work. Faith, therefore, placed in action through charity, is the magnitude of the virtues.

CAPUT XXII. On not scrutinizing the depth of faith with curiosity.

If we scrutinize the depth of faith, it is indeed turbulent; but it is tranquil if we contemplate it with the mind; for the depth of faith—which is ^B the water of oblivion—does not permit us to contemplate it with curious thoughts. Therefore, with simplicity of intelligence, we navigate its waters, that we may thus arrive at the port of the will of God.

CAPUT XXIII. When the mind cannot feel with the sense of the heart, or the taste of the soul, the fragrance of heavenly goods, even though it may desire this vehemently.

No one can either love or believe legitimately if he holds himself as his own accuser. For when our conscience disturbs itself by arguing with itself, it is not permitted to feel the fragrance of heavenly goods; but rather, it is immediately distracted into ambiguity, so that, because of a previous experience of faith, while it may fervently desire it, it cannot, however, attain it in the sense of the heart through the accusations of conscience. But when we have cleansed ourselves with more fervent prayer and attention, we shall attain what is desired with greater experience in God.

CAPUT XXIV. On the twofold sense of body and mind, and how the sense of the mind is to be excited to taste heavenly things.

Just as the sense of the body incites us in a certain way by force toward those things that seem beautiful to us, so the sense of the mind is accustomed to lead us toward those goods that do not fall under our vision, when it has tasted divine goodness. For every thing desires entirely what is akin and congenial to it: the soul indeed, as being without a body, [desires] heavenly goods; the body, however, as being from the earth, [desires] earthly pleasures. Therefore, we shall arrive at the experience of the sense of the soul, which is devoid of matter and composition, without error if we have attenuated the matter of the body with labors.

CAPUT XXV. On the one sense of the soul according to its operation in the state of innocence, and its division after the fall, and on the supplicant sense of the soul from the Holy Spirit.

The very operation of our holy cognition teaches that there is one natural and rational sense of the soul, which was later divided into two operations on account of the sin of Adam; but the other is simple, which indeed comes to the soul itself from the Holy Spirit—which no one can know, except only those who ^D willingly divest themselves of the pleasures of this life on account of the hope of future goods, and make every appetite of the bodily sense wither away through temperance. In these, indeed, the mind, because it is moved in complete health through the vacuity of solicitude, can feel the divine goodness, which is inexplicable, and communicate its joy with the body according to the measure of its progress, exulting in a certain way with an interminable amorous confession. For in Him, it says, my heart has hoped and I am helped, and my flesh has flourished again, and with my will I will confess to Him. For the joy by which the soul and body are then affected is a certain sure admonition of immortal life.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Those who contend must always preserve their mind outside the waves of perturbation, so that the mind, discerning the incoming thoughts, may store away the good ones, as those sent by God, in the granary of the memory, but may cast out the evil and demonic ones from the storehouses of nature. For when the sea is calm, it is transparent to the fishermen down to the bottom, so that at that time almost no fish there can escape them; but when it is agitated by the winds, it covers itself in a turbid storm, which in quiet calmness allows much to be seen. From this it comes about that the art of those who devise fishermen's tricks is idle: which indeed is wont to happen to a mind engaged in contemplation, especially when its bottom has been troubled by unjust anger.

Chapter XXVII.

It belongs to the very few to know their own falls perfectly, those to whose minds the memory of God never slips away. For just as the eyes of our body, when they are healthy, can discern all things, even gnats flying in the air; but when they are troubled, or covered by some humors that have spilled over, if anything great enters into their sight, they discern this but dimly, and fail to perceive minute things; so the soul, if it has zealously restrained the ardor gathered from the desire of the world, counts even very small errors as most grievous, and offers many tears to God continuously, with much thanksgiving. For the just, he says, shall confess to your name. But if, on the contrary, it persists in the desire of the world, when it comes to something pertaining to murder, or some other thing worthy of great punishment, it indeed senses it after a fashion, but it does not even wish its other errors to be indicated to it; nay, often it counts them as virtues, and for their defense it is not ashamed to use vehement, miserable oratory.

Chapter XXVIII.

It is for the Holy Spirit alone to purge the mind: for unless that strong one enters, and plunders the robber, the prey will never be snatched away. It is necessary, therefore, in all things, to refresh the Holy Spirit with the peace of the soul, or that we should always have the lamp of knowledge shining among us: for as it remains forever shining in the inner chamber of the mind, not only do the bitter and dark assaults of the demons become manifest, but they also languish greatly, caught by that holy and glorious light. Therefore the Apostle says: Do not extinguish the Spirit, that is, do not sadden the Holy Spirit by evil deeds and wicked thoughts, lest He cease to protect you by His splendor. For that eternal and vivifying Spirit of God is not extinguished; rather, His sadness ^B is a turning away, which leaves the mind surrounded by darkness, devoid of the light of knowledge.

Chapter XXIX.

The holy and benign Spirit of God teaches us that there is one natural sense of the soul, but that the five senses differ plainly in as many uses and duties of the parts of the body. Yet the mind, on account of the sin of disobedience, is distracted into as many motions of the soul itself; wherefore one part of the soul attaches itself to the passions, whence it perceives those things that are pleasant to life with delight; the other, however, is often delighted by the motion of reason and intelligence: when we are continent, it seeks this. If, therefore, we come to the habit of despising those things that are beautiful in the world, we shall be able to join the earthly appetite of the soul with its appetite which is endowed with reason, with the communication of the Holy Spirit dispensing this in us: for unless this divine goodness has effectively illustrated the inner chambers of our soul with splendor, we shall not be able to taste the good with an undivided, that is, a total sense. ^C

CHAPTER XXX.

The sense of the mind is a perfect taste, by which things are discerned. For just as by taste, which is the sense of the body, when we are in sound health, we discern good things from evil without error and desire those which are pleasant, so our mind, when it has begun to move in complete health and in great freedom from cares, can also sense divine consolation abundantly, and never be snatched away by the contrary. For as the body, when it tastes the sweetness of earthly food, has experience of a sense free from error, so the mind, when it glories above the prudence of the flesh, is able to sense the consolation of the Holy Spirit without error. Taste, therefore, he says, and see that the Lord is sweet, ^D and to have the memory of the taste without forgetting, through the operation of charity to prove the things that are better, as the Apostle says: And this I pray, that your charity may more and more abound in knowledge and in all sense, that you may approve the better things.

CHAPTER XXXI.

When our mind has begun to sense the consolation of the Holy Spirit, then Satan consoles the soul with a certain sense of simulated pleasure through nocturnal quiet, when it takes the lightest and briefest slumber. If, therefore, the mind is at that time found so prepared, that it retains the name of the Lord Jesus with fervent memory, and has used this holy and glorious name as arms against his wiles, the deceitful devil indeed retreats, but afterward he [returns] to war through...

the burning movement of the soul toward the flesh, so that it might be kindled. From this it happens again, that the mind, now perfectly recognizing the deceptions of the demon, progresses more in the experience of discernment.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Good consolation occurs either during vigil or even through a vision in sleep, when someone, about to give himself to rest, is as if conglutinated in burning memory of God with His charity; but false consolation, as I have said, always infuses itself into the light sleep of the combatant who has only a mediocre memory of God: for that true consolation, proceeding as it does from God, openly wishes to exhort the souls of spiritual combatants with their great joy toward charity; but this false one, because it is accustomed to blow upon the soul with a certain wind of deception, strives to steal away during sleep the experience of that very sensation of the mind, which preserves the memory of God intact. If therefore, as I have said, the mind is found there well mindful of the Lord Jesus, it dissipates the breath of the enemy, which falsely appeared to be sweet, and is moved with exultation to fight with him, as if it had thereafter, following the grace, a certain second weapon—the glorying from that very experience.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

If the soul is inflamed to the charity of God by a certain movement, and not by an impulse made to draw even the body into the depth of that charity, whether during vigil, or, as I have said, when it takes sleep, in which divine grace operates, and it thinks of nothing whatever at that time other than this alone, for which it has been excited—it should know that this is the operation of the Holy Spirit. For, being entirely affected by that inexplicable sweetness, it can think of nothing else then, since it is infused with a certain vehement joy. But if the mind should conceive any hesitation at all, or any vile thought during that operation of grace, even if it has used the holy name of Jesus to repel evil, and not more to kindle the love of God only, it must be known that such consolation proceeds from the deceitful demon with a false appearance of joy; for that joy is insipid and not interior, proceeding as it does from an enemy who wishes to adulterate the soul. For when he has seen the mind studiously glorying in the experience of its own sensation, then he consoles the soul with certain consolations, as I have said, which seem good, so that, relaxed by that soft and moist sweetness, the fraudulent intercourse of the devil may lie hidden. Hence therefore we shall know the spirit of truth and the spirit of deception. For no one can taste divine sweetness, or experience the bitterness of a demon by sensation, unless he has persuaded himself that the grace of God truly dwells in the depth of the mind; but that the evil ones ^A reside around the foundation of the heart; which indeed the demons would wish so that it would never be believed among men, lest when the mind knew this perfectly, it might arm itself against them by the remembrance of God.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Natural charity of the soul is one thing, and that which proceeds from the Holy Spirit is another; for the former is moved moderately by our own motion when we will. Wherefore it is easily torn away by demons, unless we hold onto the purpose of our will by force. But this latter, having proceeded from the Holy Spirit, inflames the soul so vehemently toward the charity of God that all the parts ^B of the soul are conglutinated in the inexplicable sweetness of divine love, in a certain infinite simplicity of affection. For then the mind, as if pregnant with spiritual operation, brings forth a certain fountain of charity and joy.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Just as the sea, when it is turbulent, yields to the infusion of oil, its tempest subsiding as the gentleness of the oil puts out the storm, so our soul, when it is softened by the grace of the Holy Spirit, is pleasantly calmed; for it yields with joy, conquered by His grace, just as that holy one says: "But be subjected to God, O my soul" 15. Conquered, I say, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, which covers the soul itself with the shade of inexplicable sweetness: therefore although ^C demons may often then irritate it, it remains nevertheless void of anger and full of joy: for to whom grace has come, it remains in him, if out of the fear of God it affects his soul with joy without any interruption; for the fear of the Lord brings a certain species of chastity to those who strive in the spiritual life: "For the fear of the Lord," he says, "remains chaste for ever and ever" 16.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

No one, when he hears the sensation of the mind, should hope to see with his eyes the glory of God; for we say that he feels it by a certain taste which cannot be told, of divine consolation, when someone has purged his soul, but not that something of those things which fall under sight should appear to him, if indeed we walk now by faith, and not by sight, as blessed Paul says 17. If therefore there appears to any of those who strive, either a light, or a figure of some kind in the likeness of fire, let him not embrace a vision of this kind: for it is a manifest deception ^D of the enemy: a thing which has indeed deceived many, who because of ignorance have turned aside from the way of truth. But we know that as long as we are in this mortal life, we cannot see some of His celestial miracles with the sight of the body.

Chapter XXXVII. On dreams sent by God and by the demon, and on their difference.

Visions which are brought before the soul by the goodness of God in sleep are, in a certain sense, sure messengers and pointers of a healthy soul. Wherefore, they are neither changed from one form into another, nor do they terrify the senses, nor do they rush upon those who are laughing or weeping with a single impetus, but rather they approach the soul with all gentleness, and imbue it with the sweetness of spiritual joy. Whence, after the body has been awakened from sleep, the soul seeks that joy of the dream with great desire. ^A In visions, however, that are brought during rest by demons, everything happens in the contrary way; for they do not remain in the same figure; nor do they show a quiet figure or form for any long time. For because demons do not have these from the purpose of their own will, but borrow them solely from their own deceit, they cannot be content with them for long; but rather they speak grandly, and threaten many things, often clothing themselves in the guise of soldiers; sometimes they even call out to the soul with a clamor. ^B Whence the mind, recognizing them when it is pure, seems to itself to rouse the body from sleep, and sometimes even rejoices that it is able to understand their wiles. For which reason, during the dream itself, while it refutes them, it is moved with great anger. It happens, however, sometimes, that even good dreams do not bring joy to the soul, but rather a certain very sweet sorrow, and tears devoid of any pain. This, however, is wont to happen in those who have made great progress in humility.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. On the virtue of not believing any dreams.

We have said, just as we have heard from those who are experienced, that concerning the difference between good and evil dreams, let it be enough for us to hold this as a great virtue: that we believe in nothing at all that is seen in sleep. For dreams, for the most part, are nothing other than the phantoms of wandering thoughts, or again, as I have said, the mocking illusions of demons; finally, even if a vision has sometimes been sent by God, and we do not accept it, ^C nevertheless, He who is supremely merciful will not be angry with us on this account; for He knows that this is done by us because of the deceitful ambushes of demons: and this is indeed what we have called the perfect discernment of dreams. But it happens that by a certain subreption that escapes the senses (which, I think, no one can be found who avoids), the soul is defiled, having lost the trace of perfect discernment, and by believing in dreams that are not good as if they were good.

CHAPTER XXXIX. Exemplum ad intelligendum, quomodo nemini exprobret Deus, quod somnio ab eo misso non credat.

Let there be for you, therefore, an example of this matter: a servant whom his master, having returned by night after a long journey, calls forth before the vestibule of the house; the servant is in no way willing to open to him, for he fears lest the likeness of the voice and of the things which the master ^D entrusted might be a deception, so that it might make him a betrayer; yet the master is not angry with him the following day, but rather honors him with many praises, because he believed the voice of the master to be a deception, since he did not wish to lose anything of his master's goods.

CHAPTER XL. When the soul can see the light which it has within itself; and when Satan transforms himself into an angel of light; and what should be studied most in the monastic life, so that although we are in the world, we may be pilgrims from the world.

There is no doubt that the mind, when the divine light has begun to work within it, becomes entirely clear, so that it might abundantly see the light which it has within itself. This, however, happens then, when the power of the soul gains mastery over the perturbations. But that whatever appears to the mind in a figure, whether it be light or fire, proceeds from the clever artifice of the enemy, the divine Paul teaches us when he says that he is transfigured into an angel of light. Therefore, it does not behoove anyone to undertake the monastic life with this expectation, lest here Satan find the soul easy to snatch to himself, but rather that we might become only such as those who, in every state and with the fullness of the heart, love God: which indeed is to love with all the heart, and with all the soul, and with all the mind. For in whom the grace of God works this, he is a pilgrim from the world, although he is in the world.

Chapter XLI. On obedience, how it is the greatest of virtues, the gateway to charity, and demonstrates the paths of other virtues.

That obedience is the prince of all virtues that introduce is explored; for it rejects arrogance, but begets humility for us. Whence it is made the gate and entrance of charity into God for those who willingly embrace it. When Adam had cast this aside, he fell into the depths of Tartarus: when the Lord had loved this for the sake of redemption, He was obedient to the Father even unto the cross; and this, when He was in no part below the amplitude of Him, so that when He had washed away the crime of human disobedience with His own obedience, He might lead back those who were obedient to a blessed and immortal life. Therefore, it behooves those who undertake the effort of struggling with the pride of the devil to have the first care of this virtue: for this, having progressed in turn, will demonstrate all the ways of the virtues to us without any error.

Chapter XLII. How continence ought to be in all things, so that not only virtues of the body are to be acquired, but virtues which purge the inner man.

The name of continence is common to all virtues; it behooves the one struggling, therefore, to contain himself in all things. For just as, with whatever member of a man, even the most minute, being removed, the whole body—although it is a small part that is lacking to the whole figure—is rendered deformed; so he who has neglected even one virtue dissolves and destroys the entire decorum of continence without knowing it. It behooves one, therefore, not only...

to cultivate the virtues of the body with zeal, but even those that are able to purge the inner man. For what will it profit to keep the body in virginity if the soul is adulterated by the demon that presides over disobedience? Or how shall he be crowned who has kept himself from the vice of gluttony and every bodily desire, yet has not striven to avoid pride and the pursuit of glory, nor endured a brief labor? And this must be so, since the light of justice is to be repaid by the scales of justice to those who have performed the works of justice in a spirit of humility.

CAPUT XLIII. Of the utility and manner of observing continence in diet.

Thus, therefore, it behooves those who strive spiritually to exercise hatred against all the desires of that part of the soul which lacks reason, so that they may turn them into habit. However, one must observe continence in diet in such a way that no one finds any food detestable, for this is execrable and an invention of the demon. For we do not abstain from foods as if they were evil—far be it!—but by restraining ourselves from abundant and unnecessary food, we may moderately chastise the effervescent parts of the body; then, that from what remains for us, what suffices may be dispensed to the poor, in which indeed sincere charity is discerned.

CAPUT XLIV. How it may be brought about that the enjoyment of food and other pleasures are willingly spurned.

To eat everything with thanksgiving, which is applied for eating and drinking, does not conflict with the rule of knowledge: for, He says, all things were very good [Gen. 1, 31]. But to abstain willingly from sweet and much food is a matter of the greatest discretion and knowledge, although we can never willingly spurn what is pleasant and sweet in this life unless we taste the sweetness of God in every sense of the heart and in all its fullness.

CAPUT XLV. Of the excessive continence of diet to be avoided on account of the strength of the body, which is necessary for the spiritual struggle.

As a body burdened with much food makes the mind sluggish and heavy, so excessive continence of diet makes it weak, so that the part of the soul that occupies itself in contemplation is in distress and in a loathing of discourse. It behooves one, therefore, to accommodate even the motions of the body, so that while the body is well, it may be chastised as much as is convenient; but when it is not well, it may be moderately relieved. For he who strives ought not to have a weak body, but one so firm that it may be equal to sustaining the struggle, so that the soul may also be able to be purged fittingly by the labors of the body.

CAPUT XLVI. Of the manner of tempering one's habitual diet, without the vice of vainglory or incontinence, through moderate indulgence for the arrival of brethren or other guests.

When vainglory swells against us, having found the arrival of brethren or other guests—whoever they may be—as an excuse for its vice, it is rightly done if we temper the plan of our habitual diet a little. For thus we shall dismiss the demon grieving over infected things, nay rather, over his own frustrated effort, and we shall fulfill the law of charity with sound judgment, and we shall keep the mystery of continence without ostentation through that moderate indulgence.

CAPUT XLVII. Of fasting and other bodily virtues, how they are certain instruments which by themselves have no glory before God, unless they are referred to the end, which is piety.

Fasting indeed has glory in itself, but not before God; for it is an instrument that composes those who wish for temperance. Therefore, those of us who are pugilists of the Christian religion ought not to glory in it, but only to await the end of our purpose in the faith of God: for not even those skilled in any art glory in the instruments of the craft they profess; rather, each of them looks for the form of the work undertaken, that he may therein demonstrate that perfect and absolute quality of his art.

CAPUT XLVIII. Of the utility of a temperate diet for the spiritual fruit of the soul.

Just as the earth, if it be moderately irrigated, delivers the seed it receives with much fertility; but when soaked by many rains, it brings forth only thorns and thistles: so the earth of the heart, if we use a moderate diet, puts forth seeds that are innate and implanted in it pure; and those that have been sown by the Holy Spirit it brings forth with much greenness and abundance of fruits; but if it be soaked with drink, it procreates from all its thoughts thorns and thistles.

CAPUT XLIX. Of the temperance of diet, how it may provoke to lust; and of the remedy and its reason.

When our mind floats upon a sea of abundant drink, it not only looks libidinously upon images which demons fashion through sleep, but, forming certain beautiful shapes within itself, it uses its sights ardently as if they were lovers. For when those parts of the body which are given for procreation are warmed by the heat of wine, it is entirely necessary that the mind represent to itself a shadow of lust with pleasure. There is need, therefore, that using moderation in diet, we remove the harm that proceeds from excess. For when the mind has no pleasure by which it may be incited to fashion sin, it remains entirely without imaginations, and its judgment stays strong and virile.

CAPUT L. Of the luxury of mixed drink, and how much those things which are mixed with wine ought to be shunned by those who wish to be spiritual.

One ought to decline all potables made by art, which their makers call propomata, as if they were appetizers, because they lead a multitude of foods to the stomach—those who wish to restrain their swelling body parts: for not only does their quality harm the body a little, but the perverse...

tempering of them strikes the conscience, which is the seat of God. For what is desired in the nature of wine, such that with various condiments mixed in, the fortitude of the wine must be broken by softness? ^A Whence it is never vacant from the exercise of faith, especially since it does not find there a place for displaying the virtue of endurance, having used solitude as a beautiful veil: therefore the Lord makes one of a kind to dwell in a house.

CAPUT LI.

Our Lord, who is also the master of the holy life, Jesus Christ, drank the vinegar offered to Him in His Passion by those who were ministering to the devil, that He might leave behind, as it seems to me, a clear standard of how we ought to be disposed in mind during our sacred struggle. For He says, it is not becoming for those who fight against sin to use pleasant drinks or foods, but rather to sustain the bitterness of the battle with patience. ^B But the addition of hyssop to the sponge in that mockery was so that the form of our purification might be perfectly represented by the example. For that sharp [quality] is proper to the struggle; but the power of wiping clean [belongs] to perfection.

CHAPTER LII.

No one would say that going to a bath is a sin or contrary to reason; yet I say that there is manliness and a most temperate spirit in abstaining from it for the sake of continence. For that voluptuous washing will neither soften our body, nor will the thought of Adam’s shameful nakedness come to mind, so that we should be anxious about his leaves for covering the secondary nakedness of our shame—especially for those who, having just escaped from the corruption of this life through the chastity of our body, ^C ought to be yoked together with the beauty of temperance.

CHAPTER LIII.

When we are unable to call physicians, there is nothing to prevent it. And because the art of medicine was once to be gathered by human experience, for that reason medications and remedies existed beforehand. But it is not right to place the hope of healing in them, but rather in the true Savior and our physician, Jesus Christ. I say these things to those who cultivate the discipline of continence in monasteries and cities, both because due to the circumstances that arise, they cannot work faith through charity without any interruption; ^D and also, so that they do not fall into the desire of vainglory and into the temptation of the devil. Of this number, some profess before many that they do not need physicians; but if anyone lives an anchoritic life—that is, remote from the eyes of men in desert places—among two or three brothers of one mind, whatever diseases he may be afflicted with, let him apply himself in faith to the Lord, who heals every disease and every infirmity. For after the Lord, they have a sufficiently great consolation for their ailments: solitude itself.

CHAPTER LIV.

When we bear the sicknesses of the body with annoyance, it is necessary to know that the desires of the body still dominate in the soul: from which it happens that, because of the desire for bodily indulgence, it is unwilling to depart from the goods of this life; but rather it thinks it is a great business not to be able, because of illnesses, to enjoy those things that are beautiful in life. But again, if it receives the pains of sickness with a grateful mind, it is proof that it is not far from indolence—that is, from the emptiness of turbulent affections: whence it then expects death with great joy, as an occasion for a truer life.

CAPUT LV.

The soul will never desire to be separated from the body unless it is so affected that it is not captivated by the pleasure of any of this air which we breathe. For all bodily senses are opposed to faith, since the senses are of present things, whereas faith promises the abundance and magnificence of things only future. Therefore, it is necessary for the spiritual athlete not to think of trees spread out with beautiful branches for shade, nor elegant houses, nor the intimacy of kinsfolk: nor to remember glory and the fame of honors, if it so happens, but rather to use necessary things with thanksgiving; and to consider this life as a sort of pilgrim way, and one empty of all carnal delight. For thus, by forcing our mind into a tight space, we will turn it entirely toward the footsteps of the eternal way.

Chapter LVI.

That sight, taste, and the other senses distract the memory of the heart when we have used them immoderately, Eve herself first confesses to us: for as long as she did not look willingly at the forbidden tree, she studiously retained the memory of the divine command. Wherefore she was covered as if by the wings of divine love, whence she was ignorant of her own nakedness. But after she saw the wood with a willing mind, and touched its fruit very greedily, and tasted it with vehement pleasure, she was immediately enticed to the embrace of the body, joining herself to lust as though naked, and she surrendered her whole desire to enjoy present things, after she had mingled Adam with her sin because of the fruit pleasant to the sight, from which it happened that, thenceforth, the human mind [was unable to remember] God or His commandments.

It is difficult to remember Him in this deceitful life. Let us, therefore, keep ourselves in the depths of our heart with the perpetual memory of God, looking fixedly as though held by the eyes; for it surely pertains to the spiritual study of virtue to always strip the wings from the desire for those things which we see, which that most experienced Job teaches us, when he says: "If my heart has followed my eye." This thing is a sign of the highest continence. ^A

CHAPTER LVII.

He who is always occupied within his own heart, wanders off, being completely absent from the pleasant things of this life; for he who walks in the Spirit cannot know the desires of the flesh, since he now completes his walks in the fortress of virtues, and uses those very virtues as the janitors of chastity, which is like a small city. From this it happens that in this man the machinations of the demons are fruitless, even though their darts of common desire reach as far as the windows of his nature. ^B

Chapter LVIII.

When our soul begins no longer to desire those things which are beautiful and pleasant, then a certain slothful mind for the most part overtakes it, which neither allows it to serve willingly in the office of discourse, nor leaves it an unimpeded desire for future goods. Indeed, it even holds this fleeting life as very useless, as one not having a work worthy of virtue; and it counts knowledge itself as nothing, as if it were granted to many others as well, or promises to signify nothing perfect to us. But we shall flee this sickness of lukewarmness and torpor if we define for our mind very narrow paths, so that it may be mindful only of God; for in this way alone, being returned to its own fervor, it will be able to be removed again without pain from that distraction caused by sloth. ^C

CHAPTER LIX.

When all the exits of the mind are closed off by the memory of God, the mind itself requires from us in every way a work by which it ought to know its own diligence fully. It is necessary, therefore, to hand over to it that alone: "Lord Jesus Christ," for the integral and solid treatment of one's purpose. "For no one," he says, "says 'Lord Jesus,' except in the Holy Spirit." But let it contemplate that word so strictly in its innermost retreat at all times that it cannot be brought to any imaginations. Whoever, then, meditate continuously on that holy and glorious name in the depths of the heart can also always see the light of their mind. For when it is held in the mind with tight solicitude, it burns up the filth which appears in the soul with much sensation, for "God," he says, "is a consuming fire." Hence the Lord thereafter vehemently incites the soul to the love of His glory. That glorious and most desirable name, if it is held for a longer time in the memory of the mind with the fervor of the heart, begets in us the habit of clearly loving His goodness, with no impediment standing in the way. For this is the precious pearl, which he who has sold all his substance can procure, and have greater joy than can be told from its discovery. ^D

CAPUT LX.

Another is the joy that begins, and another is that which perfects: the former is indeed not free from imaginations, but the latter has the power of humility; between these, however, is placed sadness friendly to God, and tears without pain. For since "in the multitude of wisdom there is a multitude of knowledge, and he who adds knowledge adds pain," therefore it is necessary, first indeed, that the soul be provoked to the spiritual struggle by the beginning joy; then, that it be argued and tested by the variety of the Holy Spirit, both in those things which it did wickedly and in those which it still does—for "in reproofs," he says, "you have chastened man for iniquity, and you have made his soul to consume away like a spider"—so that when divine reprehension has tested the soul as in a burning furnace, it may then receive the operation of joy without imaginations with the fervent memory of Christ.

CHAPTER LXI.

When the soul is moved by anger, or is suffused with darkness from intoxication, or is afflicted with heavy anguish, the mind cannot retain the memory of the Lord, even though the soul itself applies force to it in a certain way; but rather the whole mind, obscured by the vehemence of the perturbations, is completely alienated from its own sense for this reason, wherefore the desire cannot impress its seal, so that the mind may bear the species of meditation without forgetfulness, its memory hardening on account of the lightness of the perturbations; if it be placed outside the perturbations, it may...

^A be moved by wrath on account of the immobility of the mind: for here it is clearly seen that he has the charioteer of the senses of man unexcited; but that one, always on the horses of virtue, fervent with the zeal for struggle, is carried between the midst of the hosts of demons, exercising the chariot of continence in the fear of God at all times, which chariot of Israel we read in Scripture 31 was mentioned when that Elijah was taken up on high: for we see that God spoke excellently to the Jews first concerning the four virtues. Therefore, the whole man was taken up in the chariot of fire, that great and wonderful alumnus of wisdom, as if using his own virtues as horses, as it seems to me, in the Lord, who snatched him up into the air in the spirit of fire.

If forgetfulness of that promptness of the mind should steal in for a little while, yet the mind, using its own skill, fervently apprehends that salutary and most desirable prey; for it then possesses the grace itself meditating along with the soul and crying out, “Lord Jesus,” just as a mother teaches her little child, and meditates the paternal name with him, until she leads him to the habit of that name; and the infant child, instead of any other speech of a child, calls his father clearly even while sleeping: therefore the Apostle says: “Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmity: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered” 28. For because we are little children for the purpose of attaining the perfection of the virtue of prayer, we are entirely in need of His help, so that when His sweetness, which is greater than can be told, ^B mingles all thoughts and bedews them with sweetness, we may be excited with total affection toward the memory of God and love: wherefore when in Him, as the same Paul says, we call upon God the Father, we are composed by Him to call out without intermission, “Abba, Father” 29.

CHAPTER LXII.

Wrath is wont to disturb and confuse the soul more than other passions, yet sometimes it is greatly useful: for when we use it sedately against those who commit something iniquitous or flagitious, whatever it may be, so that they may either be saved or be put to shame, then we conjoin meekness to it: for we tend toward the same goal toward which the justice and goodness of God look; nay often, when we are gravely angered at sin, we make that feminine quality which is in wrath, masculine. That we are borne above the very glory of death, heaving with groans into the spirit of destruction itself while we are in great sorrow and mourning, is not to be doubted; which indeed, that the Lord might teach us, He returned the soul of Lazarus to his body after He had groaned in spirit twice unto death, and had troubled Himself 30: ^C when otherwise He might have accomplished all things by will alone without any perturbation, whatever He wills. So that now, in my opinion, moderate wrath has been bestowed by our Creator upon our nature more as a weapon. Had Eve used this against the serpent, she would never have been beguiled by that false pleasure. Whence, as it seems to me, he who uses wrath sedately on account of study and the ardor of piety will be found more approved in the scales of rewards than he who uses nothing.

CHAPTER LXIII.

He who has been made a participant of holy cognition, and has tasted the sweetness of God, ought not to litigate, nor intend a lawsuit against anyone, even if another should strip away the garment with which he is clothed: for the justice of the magistrates of this world is surpassed and excelled in all ways by the justice of God. Nay, that is nothing compared to the justice of God; for what is the distance between those who are disciples and alumni of God and of this world, if the law of the latter, compared with the justice of God, is not seen to be imperfect, so that the one is called human law, and the other divine justice? So therefore our Lord Jesus Christ: “Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again: when he suffered, he threatened not” 32; nay, He suffered that his garment be stripped from Him in silence; and, to say what is more, He prayed to the Father for the salvation of the malefactors 33. But the men of this world do not cease to litigate before they recover, sometimes with gain, the things from those whom they have called into judgment; especially when they charge interest on the debt beforehand, so that the law is often the beginning of a great injury.

CHAPTER LXIV.

I have heard some pious people say that it is not permitted to give place to any who wish to plunder those things which we have for our own sustenance or for the refreshing of the poor, especially if those who commit this are Christians, lest, while we bear it tolerantly, we provide an occasion of sinning to those who afflict us with injury. Their [argument] is that it is of a certain excellent ^D perfection and evangelical counsel to call no one into law before a judge on account of any private injury whatsoever. To this norm is this whole disputation of Diadochus concerning not litigating to be reduced, if we desire it to be true and not erroneous.

Indeed, it is nothing else than to love oneself more than God under the guise of simulation. ^A O excuse, estranged from reason! For if, having abandoned prayer and the custody of the heart, I should gradually begin to name causes against those who wish to vex and plunder me, and to be assiduous at the gateways of the tribunals, it is already clear that I value the recovery of [my goods] through judgment more than my own salvation, not to say more than the salutary commandment itself. For how shall I follow at all what the Gospel commands, not to reclaim [them] if someone takes my own, but rather to endure it with a joyful mind, and as the Apostle says, to receive with joy the plundering of my goods, when neither he who has disputed in court and recovered what he wanted frees that violent usurper from sin? Since indeed the eternal judgments of God cannot be prescribed by what is practiced on earth: for the defendant who happens to defend his cause before them fulfills these laws sufficiently. Wherefore it is a noble thing to suffer the violence of those who wish to do injury, and to offer prayers for them, so that through repentance, and not through the restitution of what they have plundered, they may be absolved from the crime of plunder. For the justice of the Lord demands that we, liberating the one who has snatched by means of repentance, do not recover what he has snatched. ^B

CAPUT LXV. Concerning the excellence and utility of selling all things and distributing them to the poor; and how the virtue of humility, more than the other virtues, as a most indulgent mother, cherishes and refreshes such poverty.

It is a fitting and altogether useful thing, after the path of piety toward God is known, to sell at once all our goods and to dispense the money realized according to the commandment of the Lord, and not rather, through a simulation of obeying the commands of God, to fail to heed the salutary admonition. For hence will follow, first indeed, an excellent freedom from anxiety, then poverty, secure and safe from snares, which thinks of higher things than of that injury or lawsuit; and this because it no longer has matter which might inflame the fire of avarice. ^C But humility will then cherish us more than the other virtues, which will refresh those who are naked in its bosom and embrace, just as a mother cherishes her child taken into her lap, when he, led by childish simplicity, takes off his garment and casts it far away, being at that moment more glad in his nakedness, as one devoid of all malice, than in the variety of his clothing. For: “The Lord guards the little ones,” he says; “I was humiliated, and you delivered me.” ^D

CAPUT LXVI. Concerning those who say: Whence will alms be made to the poor, who were nourished daily by our goods, if we sell everything at once? And concerning the humility which is birthed by having nothing left to distribute to the poor; and how that which cannot be compared through alms, will be compared more copiously through prayer and tolerance and humility; and how those who have left their goods prepare themselves to receive the charism of the knowledge of the Word of God so that they may be able to preach the riches of the kingdom of God.

Truly, indeed, according to that which we have, and not according to that which we do not have, the Lord will demand from us an account of almsgiving. If, therefore, I benignly distribute what I was long able to bestow, in time, because of the fear of God, for which I shall be accused more when I have nothing? But someone will say, "Whence, therefore, will mercy be bestowed upon those poor, who were accustomed to be governed little by little by our modest goods?" Let that person learn not to reproach God by way of his own avarice: for the capacity to govern His own, whom He has made, will not be absent from God, as He has governed from the beginning; for neither was food or clothing missing to the poor before this one or that one were excited to bestow alms. ^B A noble thing, therefore, it is, immediately upon grasping the knowledge of a better state, to cast off the temerity of boasting from riches by dispensing them well, holding cupidities in hatred, which is to hate one's own soul; so that now, no longer rejoicing in the distribution of riches, we may count ourselves as naught, as if doing nothing good: for while we abound in riches, we are marvelously delighted in distributing them, if however we use virtue, as if cheerfully serving the command of God; but after all goods have been exhausted, then endless grief creeps in, and submission, as if we do nothing worthy of justice. From which it happens that the soul returns to itself with great submission, so that what it cannot attain for itself daily through almsgiving, this it may be able to attain through laborious prayer, and through tolerance, and humility: "For the poor and needy shall praise the name of the Lord"; for the charism of theology—that is, of the treatment of the Word of God—is prepared for no one by God, unless he has prepared himself in such a way that, for the glory of the Gospel of Christ, he leaves behind the possession of all his goods, so that in poverty friendly to God he may preach the riches of the Gospel of the kingdom of God; for he signified this clearly, who said: "You have prepared in your goodness for the poor, O God," and adds: "The Lord will give the word to those who evangelize with great power."

CAPUT LXVII. Concerning the charism of theology, and how many and how great are the goods that proceed from it.

All the gifts of God are very good, and the cause of all goods, but none so inflames our heart and excites it to love His goodness as the gift of theology; for when it is the morning offspring of the grace of God, it bestows even the first gifts upon the soul: for first it makes it so that we willingly and joyfully despise all the friendships of this life, as those who for fleeting cupidities have the riches of the Word of God greater than can be said. Then it illuminates our mind with a fire that changes nature: whence it makes it a partaker of the ministering spirits. This virtue, therefore, most beloved brothers, let us, being suitably prepared for this, desire, which is most beautiful, which contemplates all things, which renders one void of all anxiety,

which is full of the brightness of the hidden light, and ^A nourishes the mind with the words of God, and which (not to say much) betroths the soul, participating in reason, through the holy prophets to an inseparable union with the Word of God, so that among men (O thing worthy of admiration!) it might adapt these divine procuress-voices, by which we might be made similar to God, and theological discourses might be eloquently sung.

CHAPTER LXVIII.

Our mind, for the most part, is difficult regarding prayer on account of the narrow and contracted virtue of praying, but it gives itself willingly to theology on account of the breadth and looseness of contemplating divine [things]. That we may not, therefore, make it free so that it may be pleased to speak much, nor permit it to exult immoderately, let us be occupied as much as possible in prayer, and in the chanting of psalms, and in the reading of the holy Scriptures, nor let us neglect the commentaries of the eloquent, whose faith may be discerned from their speech. For when this is done, no place is given so that our mind may mix its own words with the words of grace, or be dragged away by empty glory, distracted by excessive exultation and loquacity; rather, even in the very time of contemplation, we shall keep the mind outside of every fantasy, and we shall compare to it there almost all thoughts that have power to excite tears; for the mind, refreshed in those times of quiet and for its part most softened by the sweetness of prayer, is not only freed from the vices we mentioned, but also renews its strengths, which it may quickly and without labor ^C direct toward contemplating divine things, and at the same time advance in discernment during contemplation with much submission. Yet it must be noted that prayer is indeed above all breadth; but this belongs to those who have been filled with divine grace in every sense and fullness.

CHAPTER LXIX.

Grace is wont from the beginning to illuminate the soul with its light in a great sense; but in the process of the struggle, it often works its mysteries secretly in the soul of the one contemplating divine things, so that it may then indeed send us, joyful, into the footprints of the divine things which we contemplate, as if called from ignorance to knowledge; but in the middle of the struggle, it keeps our knowledge free from the desire for empty glory. It is fitting, therefore, to grieve indeed moderately, as if we were abandoned, so that we may be more submissive and more subjected to the glory of the Lord; but to rejoice ^D opportunely, exulting with good hope. For as excessive grief casts the soul into despair and diffidence, so excessive joy provokes it to elation: I speak of those who are still boys in understanding; for between illumination and abandonment there is experience, and between pain and joy, hope: *I waited*, he says, *I waited for the Lord, and He inclined unto me*; and again: *According to the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, Thy comforts have gladdened my soul*.

CHAPTER LXX.

As the door of a bath, if it be opened frequently, quickly lets out its heat, so when the soul wishes to speak much, although all things may be very beautiful, it distracts and disturbs the memory of itself through the vocal gate. From which it happens that it is thereafter deprived of timely and opportune thoughts: indeed, it brings forth the very concourse of thoughts in a somewhat tumultuous way to everyone, because it does not have the Holy Spirit thereafter, who would keep its soul from things presented from without; for the good, as being alien to every tumult and imagination, flees verbosity. A splendid thing, therefore, is silence, and it is nothing other than the mother of the most wise thoughts.

CHAPTER LXXI.

The discourse of knowledge itself teaches us that there are many perturbations which afflict the soul with trouble as it begins to be involved in the contemplation of divine things; but most troublesome of all are anger and malevolence. This, however, happens to the soul not so much because of the demons as because of its own progress; for while it agrees with the world in its will, although it sees laws being trampled upon in any way, it is neither moved nor perturbed. For while it is led by its own passions, it does not have regard for the justice of God; but after it has begun to overcome its passions, it no longer suffers even then, on account of the contempt of the things of the present, or on account of charity, so that it sees the law of God being violated in a dream, but rather it is angry at the evildoers, insofar as they see those who are contumelious toward the virtue of justice, to defend the dignity of justice piously. Therefore, it holds the iniquitous in hatred, but loves the just; for then the eye of the soul is not at all snatched away by error, when the soul has reduced its covering, that is, the body, to great tenuity through continence; but it is much more excellent to weep for the hardness and the stupor of the heart of these, than to pursue them with hatred; for even if they are worthy of malevolence, nevertheless reason does not want the soul, which is held by the charity of God, to be troubled and hindered by malevolence, since in the soul which has hatred, knowledge does not operate.

^A

Caput LXXII: Of the gift of wisdom and the gift of knowledge, and how the second virtue is more powerful than the first for the extirpation of the passions, and why both are not found fully in each person.

The theologian—that is, the contemplator of divine things—being softened and inflamed by the oracles of God, applies his mind in that looseness and requisite breadth of contemplations to moderate the passions to some degree. For the oracles of the Lord, he says, are pure oracles, silver tried in the fire, refined from the earth (Ps. XI, 7). But he who is devoted to knowledge, confirmed by the experience of knowledges according to their operation, exists superior to the passions; however, the theologian will attain the experience of the virtue of knowledge if he bears himself humbly. And again, he who is held by the study of knowledge will likewise attain the virtue of contemplation if he possesses that part of the soul which was given for discernment without error. For it does not happen to everyone to have these two gifts in their entirety; and this is so that, while each admires and praises that with which the other abounds, humility with justice might redound to both. For this reason the Apostle says: To one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom, but to another the word of knowledge (or cognition) according to the same Spirit (I Cor. XII, 8 sqq.).

Caput LXXIII: Of vocal prayer and prayer in the heart; to whom it happens to pray more willingly with the voice, and to whom more willingly in the heart; and of the semblance of joy which follows vocal prayer, and of the tears which usually follow the prayer of the heart, and of a certain pleasure of the soul after tears; and what is the cause, and how it is necessary to chant psalms with a somewhat louder voice when the spirit is heavily languishing.

When the soul is in the affluence of its natural fruits, it chants the psalms with a greater voice and prefers to pray with the voice. But when the Holy Spirit operates in it, then it chants with all looseness and sweetness, and prays in the heart only. But when it is affected in the former manner, it follows that it appears to rejoice in itself; when, however, in the latter, spiritual tears follow, and afterwards a certain quiet pleasure of the soul, friendly to silence: for the memory, while it remains fervent due to the tempering of the voice, makes the heart bring forth certain gentle and tearful thoughts. Whence it is clearly to be seen that the seeds of prayer are sown with tears in the earth of the heart on account of the hope of reaping joy. Moreover, when we are burdened with much sadness, it behooves us to chant the psalms with a somewhat stronger voice, bringing forth the sounds of the soul, in the joy of hope, until that heavy darkness is dissipated by the breath of the harmony.

Caput LXXIV: Of the spiritual ardor of the soul, and what differs between natural and spiritual charity.

When the soul knows itself, it also brings forth from itself a certain fervor and modesty friendly to God, since, not being confused by the anxieties of this life, it engenders a certain love of peace, by which it seeks the God of peace, even though it is quickly distracted from this, whether by the senses going forth, or by nature itself quickly consuming its own good on account of insufficiency: whence the wise men of the Gentiles thought they were attaining by virtue that which they did not, as they ought, possess, because their mind was not driven by the perennial and true wisdom. The fervor, however, which the Holy Spirit brings to the heart, first indeed looks entirely toward peace, and is constant, and invites all parts of the soul to the desire of God, and is not excited outside the heart; nay, through it, it exhilarates the whole man toward a certain immense charity and joy. It is necessary, therefore, to recognize that ardor and to attain to it; for natural charity is an index of a nature that is in some measure benevolent on account of virtue, yet it can never make the mind fit for the procuring of the emptiness of the passions, as spiritual charity can.

Caput LXXV: When and how the grace of the Holy Spirit keeps the soul pure and free from the mists of the passions; and when likewise and how the spirit of error covers it with clouds of sins.

As this air surrounding us, when the north wind blows, remains pure on account of its thin and serene nature; on the contrary, however, when the south wind blows, it is all as if thickened by the nature of this nebulous wind, which brings clouds over the whole world from its own regions and places by reason of a certain affinity: so the soul, when it is stirred by the breath of the true and holy Spirit, is placed entirely outside the mists of the demon; but again, when it is vehemently inflated by the spirit of error, it is entirely covered by the clouds of sin. It is necessary, therefore, that with all our strength we always turn our intention to the life-giving and warring breath of the Holy Spirit, that is, to the spirit which the prophet Ezekiel saw coming from the north ^B in the light of knowledge (Ezech. I, 4). So that that part of our soul most especially, which is occupied in contemplation, may persevere in serenity; that we may contemplate divine things without error, discerning those things which are of the light in the air of the true light, for this is the light of true knowledge.

Caput LXXVI: How the spirit of truth operates in the soul before baptism, and how the spirit of error; and likewise how these two spirits operate after baptism.

Some have thought that grace and sin alike, that is, the Spirit of truth and the spirit of error, are hidden in the mind of him who is baptized. Whence, they say, one exhorts and provokes the mind to virtues, and the other to the opposites. But I, both from the divine Scriptures and from the very sense of the mind, hold it to be understood that, before baptism, grace indeed exhorts from without to better things, and Satan ^C lurks in the depth of the heart, giving his endeavor to obstruct all the ways of the mind which tend toward the right; but from the very hour in which we are regenerated, the demon is indeed outside, but grace is within. Whence we find that, just as error once dominated the soul, so truth dominates it after baptism. Satan does indeed afterwards exercise his strength in the soul, just as before, and very often worse, not however as if he were present along with charity—far be it!—but because, with the sweetness

of pleasures that are alien to reason, he instills in the mind something like smoke through the medium of the liquidity of the body. This, however, occurs by the permission of God, so that man, having been cast through the storm and fire of testing, may thus reach the highest good to enjoy it, if he so wills; for he says, "We passed through fire and water, and you led us out into relief."

Chapter LXXVII.

Grace, as I have said, is hidden from the very point in time in which we are baptized, in the very lowest seat of the mind, concealing its presence from consciousness; but after one has begun to love God with one's whole soul, then, in an inexplicable way, it shares with the soul a portion of its goods through the sense of the mind. Hence, whoever wishes entirely to hold safely what he has found is easily captured by the desire to relinquish most willingly the possession of all the goods of this life, so that he may procure the field in which he has found the hidden treasure of life. For when one has dismissed all the riches of this life, then he attains the place in which the grace of God is stored. For in proportion to the progress of the soul, the gift of God reveals its goodness to the mind, even though God permits the demons to make the soul more troubled at that time; this is, of course, so that He may appropriately teach it to discern the right from the wrong, and may cause it, when it is purified, to be more submissive, on account of the great shame felt for the baseness excited by the influx of thoughts from the demons.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.

We are to the image of God, according to the notion of the soul pertaining to the mind; for the body is as it were the dwelling place of the soul. Therefore, because by the sin of Adam not only were the lines of the form of the soul defiled, but our body also fell under destruction, for this reason the holy Word of God assumed flesh, and, as God, granted us wholesome water for regeneration through his baptism; for through water we are regenerated by the operation of the life-giving Spirit, by which we are immediately cleansed in soul and body, if only we approach God, having been made whole in soul, with the Holy Spirit dwelling in us, while sins have been expelled by Him; for it cannot be—since the form of the soul is one and simple—that two persons should be present there, as was the opinion of some; for the grace of God, through baptism, is adapted with a certain infinite love to the lines of the form that was made to the image of God as a pledge of likeness, where there can be a place for the demon, since there is no fellowship of light with darkness. Therefore, those of us who are runners in the sacred contest ^B believe that that multiform serpent is cast out from the inner recesses of the mind through the incorruptible laver; nor, in truth, ought we to wonder why we think shameful things along with honorable ones after baptism: for holy baptism indeed deletes the stain of sin from us; however, it does not change that dual will of ours now; nor does it prohibit the demons from attacking us, or from using words to deceive, so that—and this is the point—what in that natural state placed in us we did not guard, we may now guard, having received the arms of righteousness, by the power of God.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

Satan, as I have said, is excluded from the soul by holy baptism; yet he is permitted, for the causes I have mentioned, to work in it through the body; the grace of God dwells in the depth of the soul, that is, in the mind itself. For all the glory of the daughter of the King is from within, as the Prophet says, unobservable to the demons. Wherefore we feel the desire of God, as it were, springing from the very depth of the heart when we fervently remember God; but the evil spirits subsequently leap upon the senses of the body, and there lie in wait, working in those things in which there is opportunity for the flesh, for those who are still childish in soul. To this method, therefore, our mind, according to the Apostle, always delights in the law of the spirit: the senses of the body, however, seek to be captured by the blandishments and allurements of pleasures. Whence grace ^C indeed, in those who make progress in knowledge, generates delight through the sense of the mind, so that it makes them exult with wonderful joy. But when the demons see us again running the course of piety negligently, they lead the soul captive through the senses of the body, violently provoking it, those executioners, to those things which it refuses.

Chapter LXXX.

Those who say that two persons, namely the spirit of grace and the spirit of sin, reside simultaneously in the hearts of the faithful from what the evangelist said: "And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it," wish to prove their own opinion, saying that the divine splendor is not defiled by the encounter of the evil spirit, however much the divine light in the soul may approach the darkness of the demon. Yet they are proven to dissent from the very words of the Gospel in the holy Scriptures. For because the Word of God willed that his true light should appear to men through his flesh, with the light of knowledge kindled in us because of his excessive benevolence, while the wisdom of the world [—]

^A is the enemy of God. For this reason, John the evangelist used such language, and after a few inserted phrases, he adds: *The true light was coming into the world, which enlightens every man*—that is, it is the guide for the path to be shown, and it provides life; *it was in the world, and the world was made through it, and the world did not know it; it came into its own, and its own did not receive it; but as many as received it, it gave them the power to become children of God, to those who believe in its name.* But the apostle Paul, interpreting that *they did not comprehend*—it is not that I have already attained, or am already made perfect, but I press on that I may comprehend, in which I have been comprehended by Christ Jesus. Therefore, the evangelist does not say that Satan did not understand the true light; for he is, from the beginning, a stranger to it, since there is no light in him. But rather, he rebukes the men themselves who, although they heard the powers and miracles of the Son of God, yet because of the darkness of error covering their hearts, were unwilling to approach the light of his knowledge.

Chapter LXXXI.

^B Spiritual knowledge teaches us that there are two kinds of evil spirits. For some are, as it were, more subtle, others more coarse. The more subtle, therefore, attack the soul, while the coarser ones are accustomed to lead the flesh captive with certain filthy thoughts. Wherefore, the demons who struggle with the soul and those who struggle with the body are adversaries to each other, although the intent and purpose of harming men is equal for both. When, therefore, grace does not dwell in a man, they then hide in the depth of the heart like a serpent, not allowing the soul to look at all toward the desire for the good. But when grace is hidden in the mind, then they run like some kind of dark cloud through the parts of the heart into the passions of sin, clothed in various forms of distraction, so as to distract the memory of the mind and tear that very mind away from the use and familiarity of grace. When, therefore, we are inflamed by the demons who are hostile to the soul towards the passions of the soul, and most especially towards pride, which is the mother of all evils—if we contemplate the destruction of the body, we are greatly ashamed ^C to be puffed up and greedy for glory. The same thing, however, must be done when demons, with whom the struggle is with the body, prepare us so that our heart may seethe with shameful desires; for this remembrance of death can frustrate all varieties of evil spirits through the memory of God. But if those more subtle demons, who attack the soul, suggest that we should hold human nature in infinite contempt, as if it were of no value or honor because of the dying flesh—for they are accustomed to do this when one wishes to torture them with such thoughts of mortality—it remains that we should contemplate the beauty and glory of the heavenly kingdom, not neglecting in the meantime the bitterness and darkness of judgment, that by one we may suppress the shallowness of our heart, and by the other console our sadness.

CHAPTER LXXXII.

God taught us in the Gospel that when Satan returns and finds his house swept and garnished—that is, he finds a heart without fruit—he then takes seven other spirits and enters into it, and lies hid within, making the last state of that man worse than the first. ^D Hence it must be noted that as long as the Holy Spirit is in us, Satan cannot reside in the depth of the soul. Indeed, Paul also plainly teaches us the understanding of this contemplation; for, having contemplated the kind of this question, he brings forth this discourse from the knowledge of how to struggle: *I delight in the law of God, according to the inward man; but I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members*; and from perfection, he says: *There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus; for the law of the spirit of life has freed me from the law of sin and death.* He says further in another place, in order to teach us again that the soul which is a partaker of the Holy Spirit is attacked by Satan from the body: *Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace; in all things taking the shield of faith, wherewith you shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God.* It is one thing to be led captive, another to struggle: the former signifies to be carried away by force; the latter, to contend with equal strength. Whence the Apostle says that the devil attacks those souls bearing Christ within themselves with fiery darts. For as one who cannot catch him with whom he struggles uses missiles entirely against him, that he might hunt the fighter from afar with a shower of darts; so Satan, because he cannot hide on account of the presence of charity, as he did before in the mind of those who struggle, flits thereafter over the humor and lies hidden in the body, so that by its ease he may caress and entice the soul; wherefore it is necessary to moderately attenuate it, lest the mind slip through its humor into the allurements of pleasures. For we must believe the Apostle, in the mind

of those who are in the struggle, to work the divine light, from which it comes to pass that one may serve the law of God and take delight in it. For the flesh applauds wicked things, and through its own facility welcomes the spirits: which is the reason why it is sometimes dragged into serving their wickedness. From this it appears most clearly that the mind is not a common dwelling for God and the devil: otherwise, how would it be said: *I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh the law of sin* [Rom. vii, 25], unless my mind stood with all liberty in the battle against the demons, serving the goodness of grace, while the body admitted the sweet odor of pleasures that are abhorrent to reason? Because, as I said, the evil and deceitful demons are allowed to be hidden in the body of those who struggle (for I know, he says, *that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh* [Rom. vii, 18], that is, in those who are, as it were, in the midst of a struggle resisting sin; for the Apostle does not say this of himself, as if his mind were battling the demons, but that the flesh is seeking to soften and dissolve them with the blandishments of pleasant comforts to lure them to pleasures; for by judgment they are permitted to dwell in the depths of the body even in those who fight robustly against sin, because the liberty of the human will must always be tested and put to the trial. But if someone, while still living, were able to die through labors, he becomes thereafter entirely a house of the Holy Spirit; for he has risen before he dies, just as Paul did, and all who have fought and who are fighting perfectly against sin.

Chapter LXXXIII.

The heart generates both good and not good thoughts from itself—not because it produces evil thoughts by nature, but because, on account of that first deception, it once grasped what is not good as a certain habit of its memory, and it conceives very many—the same evil—thoughts from the bitterness of the demons; yet we feel that they all proceed from our hearts: from which it came to pass that some thought that sin is in the soul on an equal footing with grace; and for that reason the Lord said that *what comes out of the mouth comes from the heart, and these defile a man. For from the heart*, he says, *come evil thoughts* [Matth. xv, 19]. But those people are ignorant of how our mind, which uses a certain most subtle perception, claims for itself—as if through the flesh—the operation of those thoughts which the evil spirits suggest to it, with the body’s facility pulling the soul into this, I know not how, through concretion. If indeed the soul always immoderately loves the assents and the flatteries of deceit, for this reason the thoughts sown by the demons seem to come forth from the heart; but we ourselves truly make them our own as often as we wish to be delighted by them. Which, when the Lord was reproving, as divine Scripture itself declares, He used those words which we recounted above in chapter 82. For he is delighted by the thoughts which the wickedness of Satan subjects to the soul, and he inscribes their memory upon his own heart as if they were fruits; there is no doubt that he pours these out from his own mind as if they were fruits.

Chapter LXXXIV.

The Lord says in the Gospel that the strong man cannot be cast out of his house unless a stronger one casts him out after he has bound and stripped him [Matth. xii, 29]. How, therefore, could he, having been cast out with such disgrace, re-enter and dwell in his house concurrently with the true Lord who rests there as long as He wishes? For never will a king, once he has defeated some tyrant who had been his enemy, consider letting him remain with him in the palace; rather, he will slaughter him immediately, or at least deliver him bound to his soldiers so that they may exact prolonged punishment upon him and afflict him with a most miserable death.

Chapter LXXXV.

If anyone, because we think honest and shameful things at the same time, imagines that the Holy Spirit and the devil dwell in the mind at that time, let him understand that this happens because we have not yet tasted nor seen how good the Lord is [Ps. xxxiii, 9]. For first, as I have said above, grace hides its presence in the baptized, awaiting the purpose of the soul; but when someone has converted himself entirely to the Lord, then by a certain inexplicable perception He declares that He is present in the heart; and again He awaits the soul's movement, yet He permits the darts of the demon to reach even to the profound perception, so that with a more fervent purpose and a submissive mind he may seek God with affection. If, therefore, he begins from then on to progress in the observance of the commandments and to implore the Lord Jesus without intermission, then the fire of holy grace consumes even the exterior perceptions of the heart, fully burning up the tares of the human earth; from which it happens that the ambushes of the demon depart far from those places, stimulating only slowly and gently that part of the soul which is moved by the passions. But when he who struggles links all the virtues together as if by a knot, and [attains] the greatest of all virtues, that of possessing absolutely nothing, then grace illuminates his whole nature with a certain deeper perception, in turn warming it to love God vehemently, wherefore at that time the fiery arrows of the demons are extinguished outside the perceptions of the body: for the aura of the Holy Spirit, which moves the heart to the breath of peace, extinguishes the darts of the fiery demon once they are brought into the air: yet God sometimes permits the malice of the demon to [test] even him who has made these progresses…

having left his mind for a time without light: so that, clearly, the power of our free will may not be entirely bound by the chain of grace; not only because sin is overcome by struggling, but also because man must still advance toward spiritual experience. For indeed, that which is considered perfect in one who is being instructed is imperfect when compared with the riches of the God who instructs, in the magnificence of that charity which, through the progression of his labors, one may ascend as the entire ladder shown to Jacob.

CHAPTER LXXXVI.

It is the Lord who says that Satan fell like lightning from heaven, ^B so that the deformed one might not look upon the dwelling-place of the angels. How, therefore, can he who is not even deemed worthy of communion with the good ministers be able to dwell together with God in the mind of man? But they will say that this happens by way of withdrawal. But they gain nothing further by this; for God withdrawing for the sake of instruction does not deprive the soul of divine light. For often, as I have said, grace only hides its presence from the mind, so that by the bitterness and trouble of the demons it may, as it were, impel the soul to seek the help of God with all fear and great submission, gradually recognizing the malice of its enemy, just as if a mother were to push her nursing child, who refuses the rules of sucking, away from her arms for a little while, so that, terrified by certain deformed people standing around, or by beasts of any kind, he might return to his mother’s bosom with great fear and tears; ^C but that withdrawal of grace which happens through aversion of God hands over the soul, which does not wish to have God, to the demons as if it were bound. But we are not children of withdrawal. God forbid! Rather, we believe that we are the legitimate children of the grace of God, who are nourished as if by milk by His small withdrawals and frequent consolations, so that through His goodness we may grow into perfect men and into the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.

CHAPTER LXXXVII.

The withdrawal of grace for the sake of instruction indeed brings ^D to the soul much pain and submission, and a moderate despair, so that that part of the soul which is captivated by the pursuit of glory and admiration may submit itself decently; yet it immediately brings to the heart the fear of God, and tears of confession, and a vehement desire for blessed silence. But the withdrawal made through aversion of God allows the soul to be filled at once with despair, distrust, anger, and pride. Wherefore, we must, as the character of both requires, approach God. In the former, indeed, we ought to give thanks with defense, because by the deprivation of consolation He has chastised the intemperance of our will, so that, as a good father, He might teach us the difference between virtue and vice; but in the latter, perpetual confession of sins is required, and at all times tears and a greater withdrawal must be applied, so that we may thus, through the addition of labors, be able to bend God to look upon our hearts as before. It must be noted, however, that when Satan himself engages in battle with the soul—in the withdrawal of grace, I say, which is done for the sake of instruction—grace indeed withdraws itself, as I have said, yet by a certain unknown and hidden help, it assists the soul, so that it may show to its enemies that the victory belongs to the soul.

CHAPTER LXXXVIII.

Just as when someone in the winter season in the morning stands in the open air and turns himself entirely toward the east, all the front parts of his body are warmed by the sun, but all the back parts are devoid of heat—because the sun is not above his head—so it happens to those who are at the beginning of spiritual operation: their heart admits the warmth of divine grace in part. Whence the mind then begins to pour forth the fruits of spiritual thoughts, but the parts of the heart, being patent, think according to the flesh, because all the members of the heart are not yet illuminated by the light of holy grace in an intimate sense. When some did not understand this, they thought that there were two persons in the mind of those struggling who were contrary to each other; thus, therefore, it happens that the soul thinks honest and dishonest things at the same point in time; just as the man, whose example we set forth above, is cold and warm in the same space of time. For from the time when our mind fell into a twofold cognition, it must of necessity, even though it does not wish to, bear honest and base thoughts, especially those who come to the subtlety of discerning. For always, as the mind hastens to consider something honest, the recollection of evil immediately follows, which is the memory of our mind divided into a certain twofold thought due to the sin of the disobedient Adam. If, therefore, we begin to perform the commands of God with zeal, then the grace of God, illuminating all our senses in a certain deep sense, indeed consumes our thoughts; but it suffuses the heart with a certain peace of firm and constant sweetness, and causes us to revolve in the mind things that are spiritual and no longer those which are according to the flesh; this indeed happens most frequently to those who approach very near to perfection and who have the perpetual memory of God in their heart.

CHAPTER LXXXIX. Quando, et quomodo faciat Dei gratia, ut imago Dei, ad quam facti sumus, splendeat in nobis; quando item faciat, ac quomodo, ut sit nobis similitudo Dei, et de exemplo pictoris ad intelligendum utrumque, et quomodo sine illuminatione dilectionis Dei, quam Spiritus sanctus operatur, nemo possit habere similitudinem Dei, quamvis habeat cæteras omnes virtutes, quas naturaliter habere possit.

^A Two goods are conferred upon us ^B by holy grace through the baptism of regeneration, one of which excels the other by an infinite interval. The former it bestows immediately, for it renews us in the very water, and causes all the lines of the soul—that is, that which is according to the image of God—to shine brightly, with all the wrinkles of our sin removed. The latter, however—that which is according to the likeness of God—it does not bestow immediately, but rather waits so that this may be accomplished with our cooperation. When, therefore, the mind begins to taste the sweetness of God with much perception, we ought to know that grace then begins to depict, as it were, the likeness within the image. For just as painters first depict the figure of a man with one color, and then, gradually applying color to color, preserve the appearance of the likeness intact down to the very hair, so the grace of God ^B first prepares and fits through baptism that which was made to the image of God into the state in which it was when man was created. But when it sees that we desire the beauty of the likeness with our whole soul, and that we stand in its workshop stripped and captured by the admiration of nothing, then, adding virtue to virtue like flowers, and transforming the appearance of the soul from glory into glory, it applies the form of the likeness of God to it, so that while the perception indeed declares that that which is according to the likeness is being formed in us, we shall know the perfection of the likeness through illumination; for the mind, by progressing through a certain measure and rhythmic, arcana tempering, receives all virtues through perception.

No one can acquire spiritual charity unless he is most fully illuminated by the Holy Spirit; for unless the mind perfectly receives the likeness of God through the divine light, it may indeed possess the other virtues, but it remains destitute of perfect charity. For when it receives the likeness of the virtue of God, insofar as it is possible for man to become like God, then it bears the likeness of divine charity. ^C For as in those panels which are painted in the likeness of others, the whole bloom of the colors added to the image preserves and retains the likeness of the painting throughout, even to the imitation of one smiling, so in those whom divine grace paints to the likeness of God, the addition of the illumination of charity declares that he who was made to the image of God is adorned in every part with the likeness of God; for no other virtue can acquire the vacancy of the passions for the soul itself, except charity alone: "for love is the fulfilling of the law" (Rom. xiii, 10). Wherefore our inner man is indeed renewed day by day in the taste of charity; but it is filled when this is perfected.

CHAPTER XC. De sensu et experientia divinæ dulcedinis in initio proficiendi spiritualiter, unde exsistat, et quomodo; et cur postea abscondatur nobis hujusmodi dulcedo, et unde exsistat difficultas diligendi Deum cum gustu et in sensu cordis; et quomodo contendendum sit ad ejusmodi gustum charitatis Dei; et quibus contingat perfectio charitatis in hac vita, et perfectus gustus ejus.

The Holy Spirit, at the beginning of spiritual progress, if we fervently love the virtue of God, ^D grants to the soul that it may feel divine sweetness in every perception and fullness, so that the mind may, by exact knowledge, recognize the perfect reward of holy labors. But the magnificence and greatness of this life-giving gift it afterwards hides from us for a long time, so that, although we may practice all the other virtues, we may consider ourselves to be nothing at all, because we do not yet have holy charity confirmed as a habit. Thus, then, the spirit of the demon of hatred exhibits more trouble to the minds of spiritual athletes, so that it may draw those who love one another into hatred, and carry the act of hatred even to the death-dealing kiss, from which it happens that the soul grieves all the more because, although it otherwise carries spiritual charity in its memory, it cannot attain it in perception due to the vacation of the most perfect labors. It behooves it, therefore, by applying every force, to exercise itself to such a degree that we may arrive at the taste of the same in the whole perception and fullness; for no mortal can attain its perfection except those saints who have advanced to martyrdom and perfect confession. For he who has attained this is already wholly changed, so that he does not easily crave food. For what of those things that are in the world would he crave, who is nourished and fed by divine charity? Therefore the most wise Paul, that vast receptacle of knowledge, proclaiming to us from his fullness the future delights of the just, says thus: "For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but justice and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit" (Rom. xiv, 17), which are the fruits of perfect charity. Wherefore those who progress and advance toward perfection can indeed taste it here frequently; but they cannot taste it perfectly unless first that which is mortal be swallowed up by life.

CHAPTER XCI. De quodam, qui tenebatur ardenti desiderio cognoscendi perspicue charitatem Dei, quomodo eam cognoverit Dei munere; et de iis, qui ejusmodi charitatem sensu et gustu cordis experti sunt, quales sint eorum virtutes; et quomodo isti fidem charitate superent; et quomodo hoc Paulus significaverit cum dixit: Nunc autem manent fides, spes, charitas; tria hæc, horum major est charitas.

One of those who love the Lord with a certain insatiable will narrated to me how, when he was seized by a desire to know clearly and plainly the charity of God, the One who is supremely good had granted this in much perception and fullness, and he said that he had felt such an operation to such an extent that...

the soul with incomparable joy and charity would then desire to depart from the body and set out toward the Lord, as though ignorant of the nature of this fragile life. Therefore, he who has experienced this charity, even if he be subjected to infinite insults and inconveniences by someone (for it happens sometimes that one who is to be exercised by labors is entangled in evils of this sort), he does not grow angry with that person; but rather he remains united with him who has brought the insults and losses. Indeed, he is incited and burns only against those who invade the poor, or who speak iniquity against God, as Scripture says, or who in any other way do not live well. For he who now loves God more than himself—nay, rather, does not love himself any longer, but God alone—does not now seek his own honor, but desires more to have His justice honored, by whom he himself has been honored with immortal honor; and he seeks this not with some small will, but rather he holds thenceforth such an affection of soul as something assumed into a habit because of the great experience of the charity of God. It is to be known, furthermore, that he who has been led by God into charity of this kind, while that operation of charity lasts, stands above faith, as though already holding in the sense of the heart through much charity Him whom he formerly honored by faith. This, indeed, the apostle Paul signifies to us clearly when he says: *Now, however, there remain faith, hope, charity; but the greatest of these is charity.* For as I have said, he who embraces God with abundant charity has a faith that is then much greater, being wholly placed in the desire of God.

CAPUT XCII. Of the property of the intermediate operation arising from holy knowledge, how it brings us great sorrow if ever we have offended someone; and what is to be done then, if the offended party refuses to be reconciled to us, or if he is far away.

The mediocrity of operation which holy knowledge works makes us grieve not a little when, having been irritated against someone, we have made him an enemy to us by our insults. From this it comes about that the pangs of conscience never relent until we have reconciled the one offended by our insult to our former grace through much apology. But that pang of conscience is the most bitter when some one of the men of this life is angry with us undeservedly; for he makes us to have a mind very anxious and exercised because we have brought offense to anyone from the number of those who speak of this world. Hence the mind is then void of contemplation, because the speech of knowledge, since it is wholly of charity, does not allow the agitation of the mind to be diffused and dilated toward conceiving contemplations until we have first reconciled to ourselves him who is rashly angry with us. But if he is unwilling, or if he is again far away from the places where we dwell, necessity urges that, joining the form of his face to our affection in a certain undistracted union of the soul, we thus fulfill the law through charity in the depth of the heart; for it is necessary, he says, that we should look upon those in our heart who wish to have the knowledge of God; and when indeed this has been done, the mind will not only be without error in theology—that is, in the discussion of divine things—but will ascend to the charity of God with great confidence, hastening as if from the second step to the first without impediment.

CAPUT XCIII. Why the way of virtue appears arduous to those beginning, and why it becomes easy to those passing through the middle of it: and what must be done by those beginning, in order to overcome the harshness, with the grace of God assisting.

The way of virtue appears harsh and troublesome to those indeed who are beginning to love the truth—not because it is such, but because human nature is engaged in the laxity of pleasures immediately from its very birth; but to those indeed who are able to pass through the middle of it, it is shown to be entirely gentle and expeditious; for evil habits, having become obedient to honest habits through the practice of virtue, die along with the memory of pleasures that are abhorrent to reason. From which it happens that the soul thenceforth walks all the ways of the virtues willingly. Therefore, when the Lord introduces us into the way of salvation, he says: *Narrow and strait is the way that leads to life, and few are they who enter it.* But to those who wish to seize His holy commandments with much zeal, He says thus: *For my yoke is sweet, and my burden is light.* It is necessary, therefore, in the beginning of the struggle, to perform God’s commandments with a certain violent holy will, so that when the Lord sees our purpose, and labor, and will most willingly serving His glorious will, He may send His grace (for the will is prepared by the Lord), so that we, not stopping for any time, may work the good with great joy; then in truth we shall perceive that it is God who works in us both to will and to accomplish for the sake of the good will.

CAPUT CXIV. How it is an obligation to be proven through labors and infirmities, and as if to soften the heart for the impressing upon it of the seal of the likeness of God from His virtues; and what the probations of the saints through infirmities were, which Paul calls the time of (the) martyrs; and what succeeded for them in the time of the peace of the Churches; and how one must work through endurance in the tribulations that are the testimony of our conscience.

As in wax, unless it be much warmed and softened, the seal cannot be impressed, so neither can the seal of the virtue of God be impressed in a man, unless he be proven by labors and infirmities. Therefore the Lord said to the blessed Paul: *My grace is sufficient for thee, for power is perfected in infirmity.* But the Apostle rejoices thus, saying: *Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me*; nay, and it is written in the Proverbs: *Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth; and He scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.* Yet the Apostle calls the attacks of the enemies of the word of God infirmities, which then both to himself, and to the saints at all times—

^A in order, as the same Apostle says, that they might not be exalted by the excellence of the revelations, but rather persevere through submission in the form of perfection, keeping the divine gift through frequent contempt of themselves; but we now call evil thoughts and physical illnesses infirmities. For in those times, because the bodies of the saints who were fighting against sin were handed over to deadly stripes and other various torments, therefore they were far superior to the passions which, having sprung from sin, had entered into human nature; but now, because the Church has much peace and tranquility through the Lord, the work of those who struggle is that the body should be tested by frequent illnesses, and the souls by the trial of evil thoughts: especially in those for whom knowledge is wrought in all sense and fullness. That they might exist outside of all vain glory and outside of that sublime state, and be able—as he said—to receive the seal of divine beauty in their hearts through great submission; as that holy Prophet says: The light of thy countenance, O Lord, hath been signed upon us. It is necessary therefore to sustain the will of the Lord with thanksgiving; for then this constancy of illnesses, and the battle with demonic thoughts, will be held as a second martyrdom. For He who in those times by those wicked magistrates and powers was saying to the holy martyrs: Deny Christ, covet the glories and honors of this life, ^B is now also prepared to say the same things always to the servants of God through himself. He who then was torturing the bodies of the just and was afflicting the teachers of honor with supreme insults through the ministers of his own diabolical will and counsel, the same now brings various passions upon the confessors of piety with many insults and disparagements, and then most especially when they, afflicted and poor, bring help with all their might for the glory of the Lord. Therefore it is necessary that we act with the witness of our conscience in the sight of God safely and tolerantly: I waited, he says, waited for the Lord, and he attended to me.

CAPUT XCV.

Regarding a twofold humility, one of the middling, the other of the perfect; and how the former is acquired, and how the latter; and concerning the quality and condition of each; and how one must proceed from the former to the latter.

Humility is a difficult thing to acquire: for the greater it is, the more laborious is its practice. But it is acquired in two ways by those who are participants in holy knowledge; for when one struggles in the pursuit of piety, and is in the midst of spiritual experience, then either because of bodily weakness, or because of those who are extremely malicious toward those who are studious of virtue, or because of evil thoughts, he feels more modestly and submissively about himself in a certain way. ^C When, however, the mind is illuminated by holy grace in great sense and fullness, then the soul has, as it were, a natural humility: for having been made fuller and, as it were, fatter through divine grace, it can no longer be exalted by the swelling of the desire for glory, even though it may perpetually perform the commandments of God: but rather it considers itself inferior to all because of the communion of its own submission and divine modesty: and that humility is indeed for the most part in sorrow and sadness: but this latter one is in joy with a certain most prudent shame. Wherefore the former comes to those who are in the midst of the struggle; but the latter is sent to those who approach perfection: for this reason the former are very often reproached by the prosperity of this life; but the latter, even if one were to offer it all the kingdoms of the world, is neither stunned, nor wonders, nor feels the dart of sin at all: ^D for the whole soul, having become spiritual, knows not the honors and glories pertaining to the body. There is therefore an absolute need that he who undertakes the study of struggling, when he has passed through the former, should come to the latter; for unless grace, by not compelling but by testing our free will through sorrows brought upon us, should first soften us through that former one, it will never share with us the fullness of the latter.

CHAPTER XCVI

What demons observe in religious people in order to attack them, seizing an opportunity from there; and how those things must be guarded against by religious people, and primarily the desire for glory; and what evils follow from loquacity, and what is to be done against this vice.

Those who love the pleasures of this life slip from thoughts into sins; for while they are carried away by inconsiderate judgment, they desire to turn almost everything which they agitate in a disturbed mind into both speech unbound by law, and into misdeeds. Those, however, who undertake to grasp the monastic life, these fall from sins into evil thoughts, or into certain bad and harmful words. For if the demons see them either willingly ready to revile, or to speak about idle and untimely matters, or to laugh without decency, or to be immoderately angry, or to desire vain and empty glory, then with one mind and purpose they arm themselves against them: for, seizing the opportunity for their malice in the first place from the desire for glory, and having entered through it, as through a certain dark window, they plunder the souls. It is necessary, therefore, for those who wish to live a life with many virtues, neither to desire glory, nor to associate with many, nor to go out frequently, nor to revile anyone, even if they are deserving of insults, nor to speak much, even if they can say everything beautifully: for much speech, distracting the mind immoderately, not only makes it idle in spiritual exercise, but also betrays it to the demon of acedia; which, in turn, relaxing and dissolving it immoderately, hands it over to the demons who preside over anger and sorrow. Wherefore it is necessary to have the mind occupied in the observation of the holy commandments, and in the deep memory of Jesus.

^A For he says, "He who keeps the commandment will not experience an evil word," that is, he will not fall into wicked thoughts or wicked speech.

Chapter XCVII

When the heart receives with a certain fervent pain the volley of darts which are cast by the demons, so that he who is being attacked seems to himself to bear the very missiles with labor, the soul begins to loathe the passions, as it begins to be purged; for unless one grieves vehemently at the impudence of sinning, he will never be able to rejoice fully in the goodness of virtue. Therefore, he who wishes to purge his heart must always inflame it with the remembrance of the Lord Jesus, being occupied in this alone and doing this only without intermission; for it is not fitting that those who wish to cast off their corruption should pray at one time but not at another, but rather must always apply themselves to prayer in the custody of the mind, even if they are outside the place of prayer. For just as when someone wants to purge gold, if he allows the fire in the furnace to cease for a little while, he causes the matter of the gold which was being purged to harden again: so he who is mindful of God at one time but not at another loses in that idleness what he seems to have gained through prayer. ^B It is the proper work of he who is held by the zeal for virtue to consume that which is earthly in the heart by the remembrance of God; so that the soul, having gradually consumed its vice in this way by the fire of this good remembrance, may return perfectly to its natural splendor with greater glory.

CHAPTER XCVIII

To be free from passions is not to be unassailed by demons—otherwise we would have to have left this world, as the Apostle says—but rather, while being assailed by them, not to be conquered by them. For the enemy shoots arrows at warriors armed with iron, and they even hear the casting of the missiles, and indeed see almost all the darts launched at them, yet they are not wounded because of the hardness of the armor in which they are clad. Indeed, those protected and guarded by iron cannot be vanquished in battle; but we, armed with the armor of holy light and the helmet of salvation through all good works, break through the ranks of the demons surrounded by darkness. For this provides not only purity, in that we no longer receive wicked actions, but also the zeal to stoutly repudiate the evils of righteous deeds.

CHAPTER XCIX

After a man of God has overcome almost all the passions, two demons remain struggling with him: one of whom causes disturbances in the soul, while it draws the soul away from the love of God to an importunate zeal, so that it wishes no one else to please God except itself; the other, however, struggles with the body, while it moves it by the operation of a certain fire toward the desire of venereal matters. This happens to the body, first because this pleasure is proper to nature, as it is innate for the purpose of procreation, so that the body is easily overcome; secondly, because God permits it. For when He sees someone among the number of the struggling to be excellent in a multitude of virtues, He permits him at some time to be defiled by such a demon, so that he may think of himself as viler than all living beings. Truly, either the distress of the passion follows right actions, or right actions precede, so that either by anticipation or by the subsequent passion, the soul may seem in some way useless to itself, however great its virtues and right actions may otherwise be. But with the former we fight with much humility and charity; with the latter, however, we fight with temperance, the cessation of anger, and the deep contemplation of death, so that, feeling the operation of the Holy Spirit here without any intermission, we may escape superior to the passions in the Lord.

CAPUT C

Whoever has been made a participant in holy knowledge will be held to account for all thoughts, even involuntary vain ones. Job said, "Thou hast marked, if I have transgressed unwillingly," and justly so. Even if one has never intermitted the memory of God, nor neglected the study of His commandments, he will fall into sin, whether voluntary or involuntary. It is necessary, therefore, to offer to the Lord immediately a vehement confession even of involuntary faults, which belong to the training of the conventional rule; for it is not possible that a man should not commit human errors. I say it is necessary to confess, until the conscience of the one confessing has a full persuasion of the remission of them in the tears of charity. For he says, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just, to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all iniquity." It is necessary, moreover, always to attend to the sense of the confession, lest by chance our conscience lie to itself, while one suspects that he has confessed enough to God. Since indeed the judgment of God is far greater than our conscience, even if