THE FIRST CHAPTER. A briefe relation of supernaturall Prayer.

1. OVr Holy Mother S. Te­resa in her life, and her other woorkes, doth declare, and explicat this matter so well, that I neede not speake much of it. But by reason her workes, or bookes cannot be had by euery one, I will briefly say som­what of it, out of her, for the comfort, of pious soules, and to encourrage many to goe forward, in this Blessed exercise of mentall prayer, seing, to what great hap­pinesse they may attaine, by it.

2. For the better vnderstanding of what is to be sayd, you must obserue, that as there are vertues, which we call, acqui­red; by reason they are gayned by our la­bour, industry, and practise; there be also [Page 4] vertues which we call infused, that is; not gained by our industry, or labour, but are giuen vs, by the meere gift of God, which are certaine habits, of vertues, that doth cause vs promptly, and with facility to vse and produce vertuous acts. these are infused into the soul, she not knowing how, but that she finds by the effects, that it is a speciall gift of God, which is sud­denly, perceiued, and to which, she could not attaine, with the labour of many yeares.

3. In like manner, there is prayer, ac­quired, or naturall; and infused, or super­naturall; that naturall, is gayned by the long practise of it, as we get other artes, or trades, by the dayly vse of them; but this infused, is in an instant giuen vnto vs, by God, and it doth cause vs, to wor­ke in a more perfect manner, and more knowingly, and more feelingly, we not knowing whence, or how it came; and therefore it is called supernaturall, being beyond our reach; but sometyme this prayer is giuen only for that present and perhaps, at other tymes; yet it is not ha­bituall, because it is not permanent, though supernaturall, and this doth pro­duce great, and good effects in the soul; but the other, cometh with a presence of [Page 5] God, so perfect, that going to prayer (though you were in diuerse occasions of businesse, instantly before; which we­re sufficient to distract a man a whole day) suddenly set on your knees in pra­yer, with a looke on that presence of God, you are recollected and haue suffi­cient matter, to employ the powers in, so that the soul, is in a great content, with the inward satisfaction, which she doth feele; and this is not without contempla­tion; and though the naturall contem­plation, delighteth the mynd, and ador­neth the soul much; yet this other, giueth more content and satisfaction in an in­stant, then that is euer able to reach vn­to, with all industry possible;

4. This is commonly giuen only to soules that are pure, and after long la­bour (in the practise of the other prayer, mortification, of their senses, and pas­sions; and pennance for their sinns;) are wery of the world; and doe loath the va­nityes, and pleasures thereof; and doe as­pire to the loue of God, and true, perfe­ction. these soules doe now desire solitu­de, and doe betake themselues from all occasions, into the most secret places, they can find, fit for their purpose; to gi­ue themselues to holy reading, prayer, [Page 6] and other spirituall exercises, as the an­tient saints, did, into the wildernesse, soli­tary and desart places, to be employed, and familiar with God alone.

5. For these places are most fit for re­collection, and contemplation; and the spirit of God, hath this property, that it desireth to be in priuat, employed only in heauenly things, and such as are eternall. and this doubtlesse, was the cause, that in former tymes when there were more saints, in the Church, then now; the Ab­bayes, and monasteryes, were built in re­mote and solitary places, farre from the noyse, of people; where all things, and euen the very solitude most, did moue, and inuite them to recollection, and contemplation of diuine matters;

6. For euery creature there, doth teach vs to know our selues, our creatour, and his perfections. for there, we shall see no­thing but the heauens ouer vs, the earth vnder, the water ebbing, and flowing, going and coming, the trees, hearbs, and flowers, now springing, then faire, soone after, withering, decaying, and fading away; the beasts feeding, and bellowing, the byrds flying, and singing; all of them, in their kind manifesting and praising their common Lord the creatour of all things,

[Page 7] 7. The earth when we looke downe, telleth vs, that we are dust, from it; and must returne to it againe, be we neuer so powerfull, or great; this, dayly experien­ce doth confirme. the water and its cour­ses, shewes the vncertainty, mutability and vnconstancy of the life, of man, and his vaine desyres. the trees, flowers, and the rest, doth shew, how long a man is coming to perfection, and on a sudden is gon by death; the beastes tell vs, with all others, that we are not, of our selues, but haue a God, (who gaue vs our being) in­finit wise, and prouident, preseruing, and prouiding for all, in their owne kind; when we looke vpwards, we see the hea­uens, and they tell vs, that there, is the place and seat, of all felicity, and happi­nesse, where God and his Angells, in glo­ry are resident, and that we are created, to enioy God there; and therefore ought to tend thither, and labour to compasse it, by seruing and praising him, who hath so created vs, and prouided for vs, as to be with himselfe in all ioy, and glory, for all eternity; this good, and much more, solitude affordeth, in those desart places, the soul then that is desirous of perfe­ction; and therefore doth retyre her selfe from occasions, and in that solitude doth [Page 8] giue her selfe to more reading, and pray­ing, to come to the more perfect know­ledg and feeling of God, that she may loue and serue him, in a better, and more eminent way, then euer before, must re­solue to seeke after God alone, all other things whatsoeuer neglected, and forsa­ken; which the great God of mercy, and goodnesse obseruing; and seing how that poore soul, doth labour in prayer with her vnderstanding, and will, to find him by loue; and is often tyred, vsing great diligence heerein; at length taketh com­passion vppon her, and eleuating her, spirit, doth set her at rest, with great sweetnesse, in a deepe recollection, farre, within her selfe, in a solitude, of an other kind; where she enioyeth so perfect a feeling of his presence within her selfe; that she could neuer haue imagined, it; which setleth all the powers in an in­stant, and giueth her admirable content, and inward satisfaction, farre surpassing what she Felt before. This solitude wi­thin Apo. cap. 5. v. 10. 1. Cor. 3. v. 16. & chap 6. v 19. 2. Cor. 6. v. 16. her selfe, is the kingdome, and liuing temple, of God, and the seat of his eter­nall wisdome; the manner of going thi­ther, as is said', is by an inward recolle­ction, introuersion, or rather attraction of the powers, and senses, so strongly, [Page 9] and suddenly, that the soul is in admira­tion, to see so sudden an alteration, but how, or what it is, she knoweth not, but she doth plainly perceiue, that she is so well employed, and her happines so great, that she would not be thence though she could, for all this world.

8. This recollection, is farre different from that other, which we procure; of which I spoake formerly; for that doth consist in this, that we doe seriously by some pious consideration apply the po­wers to the presence of God, which we doe conceiue, or frame inwardly, which giueth great content, and causeth them easily forget outward things; yet the soul cannot but feele the powers working, with the noyse of words, and know that they are, in their owne proper home, and that by their industry, that recollection is procured; but this othet is not procured, but suddenly giuen them, and they are more deeply recollected, and in a greater solitude, so farre within the soul, that they admire, how they came thither; and they woorke so slowly and attentiuely that they doe neere forget, both house, and home, with the present content. so that the one, is had, with labour, and difficul­ty; the other is giuen them, with ease, and [Page 10] sweetnesse. the one is acquired, or natu­rall, this other infused, and supernaturall, farre surpassing our capacity, and reach; more inward, with greater light, sweet­nesse, and satisfaction, and a deeper im­pression of truthes, in the soul; for it pro­ceedeth from a more noble of spring and begining, which is God himselfe; also it leaueth, and disposeth the soul richly, and well, for higher matters; so that, in the first, we worke, in our selues, that re­collection: in this other, we are the pa­tient, and God worketh it in vs; there­fore he sayd by his Holy Prophet, I will O see. 2. v. 14. lead her into the solitude or wildernesse, and there I will speake vnto her heart, he doth not say, that she will goe, but I will bring her thither; to shew, that the wor­ke, is his, and a gift, that the soul with all her labour, and industry, could neuer reach vnto, or compasse; that she might be the more gratefull;

9. But you must vnderstand, that as by degrees, we acquire morrall vertues, or the perfection of naturall prayer, so by degrees, or certaine steps, (as we may say,) God leadeth his beloued spouse, into this solitude, and Paradise of de­light, and first he giueth her a continuall presence of him selfe, which is superna­turall, [Page 11] with so efficatious and feeling a knowledg, that she cannot but certainly belieue that he is there within her, yet she perhaps taketh no notice of it, to know what it is, but the light is great, and the effects of his presence, are very euident, this is not an imaginary presen­ce, but a light that bringeth a Maiesty with it, which (with one looke on it) procureth in the soul, most profound hu­mility, and an admirable reuerentiall re­spect towards his diuine Maiesty, out of which aspect, and respect; there follo­weth a sweet content, and many delight­full teares; so that when the soul please, she may looke in, and presently find with whom to conuerse, without any labour; and sufficient matter to keepe her em­ployd; and this is the first step, or de­gree;

10. The second step wherein he lea­deth her forward, is, that recollection, of which I spoake last; for the ioy and con­tent which proceedeth from that contin­uall aspect, instantly recollecteth all the powers, though they were neuer so much distracted before, and giueth them so se­rious employment, that they easily for­get all outward obiects, attending only, to what is there; which bringeth the soul [Page 12] to haue great freedome, hauing nothing to diuert her intention, nor attention; out of that recollection, and serious at­tention, the light, and affection doe in­crease, at which the powers, are in admi­ration, and silence. (and this is the third degree) expecting to see what will be the conclusion; for Heere the soul seemeth truly to haue found whom she loued, Cant. 3. v. 4. and sought for; and now doth hold him­fast, and will not let him goe, as is said in the canticle; they are heere present to gether, very euidently, and feelingly, there is no noyse of words inwardly, but by affection, and loue they are vnited forcibly, resting sweetly in the bed of de­light; and the very powers haue so great content and satisfaction, that they would not haue the very body, to moue or breath, least (as our Holy Mother sayth) In her life chap. 15. so great a good should be lost, or scape out of her hands; as if by that meanes she could keepe it, being the gift of God, depending only of his diuine will, and pleasure; who giueth it when, to whom, and for as long tyme as he thinks fitting, and it can be no longer; heere the soul truly feeleth how great the power of God is, and how sweet he is to those that loue him

[Page 13] 11. Hence his diuine Maiesty leadeth her forward into the depth of the inward solitude, that is, to a higher and more eminent degree of prayer, where she may more perfectly, and fully enioy his presence, and receiue greater blessings, then in the former; this is called the sleepe of the powers, for in the former, they all were in great silence; and there­fore it is called quiet prayer, or the pra­yer of rest, by reason all the powers the­re doe rest from their operations or dis­coursing, are quiet, and in silence; out of which, the soul falling more deepely in loue, the delight and inward ioy increa­seth, so, as the powers are in a manner ouercome, and are begining to loose them selues by degrees; as one slumbe­ring, and falling a sleepe, that know's not what he doth, or where he is; this soul is like to one that lyeth a dijng, his forces failing by degrees, vntill he grow so weake, and feeble, that he has scarse any sense, or feeling of any thing, knoweth, no body, nor where he is, nor what he doth, or is done to him; yet is not dead, but betwixt both, as we may say; our Holy Mother compareth the soul in this degree, to one who is gon so farre into a In her life chap. 16. deepe water, that it reacheth to the chin; [Page 14] goe forward, he cannot; neither doth he know, how to turne back; neither would he, though he could, and thus she betwixt both, begins in a manner to sink and fall a dijng; for the waters of delight are now in such a height, that the powers are ouercome, and the soul loosing her for­ces and the vse of her powers, and sen­ses, is like to yeald the Ghost; and thus with loue and excesse of ioy, both she, and all the powers, are not themselues, but sopited, and like to one (as is said) wholy senslesse; and the ioy, and content, which is heere had, by farre exceedeth that of the former degree; yet his diuine maiesty, (with this not contented) to ma­nifest his loue the more to this his belo­ued spouse, he bringeth her into a solitu­de, beyond all that is created, (and this is the fourth step, or degree, called vnion) where all are absorpt and drowned, ouer head, and eares; for she and all the po­wers, are wholy vnited to God, and in­gulfed in the depth of his diuinity, and she is become one and the same with God, quite forgetting all that is in hea­uen, and earth, and the very body, which during the tyme of vnion, is voyde of sense, and in a manner dead, neither doth she know whether she be in the body or [Page 15] no. in this vnion, she doth not continew long, (perhaps halfe an hour, or there about) before some of the powers doe returne to them selues, and often, not fin­ding the like content, (as one should say) in their owne house, they goe wil­lingly back againe, and are drowned in the same depth, and burned with the sa­me fire; and in this coming, and going, some houres, may be spent; but not in the totall, or perfect vnion of all; for as our Holy Mother saith, it is so strong and forcible that our weake nature is not able to endure it long; but by degrees his diuine Maiesty doth enable the soul, and make her capable for receiuing those supernaturall fauours, and diuine com­munications;

12. In this totall vnion, the soul kno­weth nothing as is said, but enioyeth a content and happinesse, surpassing sense; yet, what she doth enioy; or how; she vn­derstandeth not; but doth remaine ab­sorpt, and vnited to the diuine essence; and thus she is become God's captiue, tyed and chayned fast, by loue; and hath no power, to free her selfe, vntill his Ma­iesty, be pleased to set her at liberty; nei­ther would she, though she could, estee­ming it a greater captiuity, to be left to [Page 16] her owne liberty, and farre more liber­ty, to be in that sweet and happy capti­uity; this is a greater and more eminent gift, and fauour, then all the former, it is a most blessed vnion, or coniunction; a most diuine transformation; a most hap­py death; a true deification; and most happy life in God.

13. Note, that in that quiet prayer, the will only is vnited, and not the other po­wers; in that other of the sleepe of the powers, the will and the powers are vni­ted, but so, that they are not perfectly vnited, or wholy lost; but in this vnion, they are all wholy and perfectly lost vni­ted, and in gulfed in the diuine essence, and they are wholy dead, to all the world, drowned in vnspeakable delight; and the profit of the soul in this degree, is vnexplicable; her loue is come to so great a height, that nothing, but the enioying of God wholy and perfectly, can giue her content; Therefore his di­uine Maiesty doth lead her to an other step, or degree, farre beyond her selfe, and all that hath beene sayd; eleuating her spirit, and opening her eyes, to set and know, somwhat of his greatnesse, and the treasure of his celestiall glory, with visions and reuelations of high [Page 17] matters, hidden and most profund miste­ryes; and this is called and exstasy, or rapt, where she vnderstands cleerly, and plainly, how all things created, are a meere shadow, and nothing, compared with what she then doth enioy, and see in God; and this rapt, some tymes, is so forcible, and vehement, that it doth ele­uat the very body with the soul from the earth, and remayneth hanging in the ay­re, and it doth so participat of the inward ioy, and glory of the soul, that it doth loath, to be longer on earth, and faine would be inuested with immortality, for all eternity; and after these great raptes, commonly when the soul returneth to her selfe, the body as yet, and perhaps for some dayes, will not be able to vse its owne functions; nor the powers, and sen­ses, are themselues, but all are out of or­der, for they are as yet drunk, with the memory of the glory, and delight, which they enioyed; and the introuersion, and application of the powers and senses, is so great, that they cannot but with diffi­culty, attend as yet to any outward things; and though they see and heare at those tymes, yet they neither well see, nor know what they see, or heare; this soul now is no more her owne, but wholy [Page 18] belongeth to God; for she hath consig­ned her selfe, her will, and the keyes the­rof, vnto his diuine Maiesty. so that she liueth not now, but Christ doth liue in Gal. 2. v. 20. her; in so much, that she myndeth no­thing, but the honour, glory, and praise, of God: and heartely desireth, and la­boureth, that all may loue, and praise him for euer: her vertues, are solid, and of great perfection; her loue is so excessiue, that her life on earth, is a continuall martyrdome, and death; by reason of her forcible and languishing desyre, to be dissolued, and be with her beloued, Christ Iesus in glory for all Eternity.

14. Thus deere Christian soul, our Sa­uiour doth reward, euen in this mortall, and myserable lyfe, the litle labour, and endeauours, of a louing soul; O who would not labour, for so great a good? and willingly serue so good a Lord; O who would not affect so true a louer, and deere a frend? o who would not freely forsake all this world, for the loue of so bountifull and Gracious a God? O Bles­sed Lord, praysed and exalted for euer, and euer mayst thou be, who art so choy­se of vs, and ha'st prepared so great hap­pinesse for such wormes of the earth, as we; all thy creatures, loue, and praise [Page 19] thee, for euer more. Amen.

THE II. CHAPTER. Of Recollection, and quiet Pra­yer, more in particular.

1. WHereas this recollection, is so great, and inward; and the po­wers not troubled, with the noyse of worldly, and vaine thoughts; and that God is there present, what must the soul doe in this recollection? first she must consider that he is there only attending to giue audience, and ready then to hea­re her petition, and that she can without any impediment speake to him, being so neere (for as our Holy Mother sayth, the In her life chap. 27. soul seemes to haue other, eares, and ton­gue inwardly, and needeth not, speak loud, or cry out, with noyse of inward words, or consider him in heauen, or a farre of or without her selfe, to be heard, or vnderstood; but she may rest there with him (for he is not a frend of many words) and accustome the vnderstan­ding, to worke very slowly, and as it we­re in silence, carefully attending to what is said, and with what reuerence, and [Page 20] confidence, she speaketh to him: and if the vnderstanding can be kept quiet, sweetly beholding that presence, of his diuine Maiesty, without words, or with Luke 18. v. 13. the Publican casting his eyes, to the earth, expecting with humility, what shall be sayd to him, it will be of great profit; and increase vertuous desyres in the soul; contempt of the world, and strong resolutions, to serue God, and amend their liues; and this the soul doth vnderstand by sweet inspirations, and secret whispers, by which he speaketh vnto her; heere she doth offer her selfe, and her will, wholy to God, to be em­ployed euer after, in his seruice;

2. Though some, (yea religious) af­ter coming so farre, and hauing forsaken the world, and giuen themselues to God, doe returne back to the flesh pots of Egipt, and as a dog to his vomit, to be more worldly then euer, and to seeke for familiarityes, and frendships; and they take back againe, from God (euen against his will,) what formerly they freely gaue him (THEIR VVILL) which they did dedicat vnto his diuine Note. Maiesty; to be employed only, in his ser­uice; which againe they dispose of, as of their owne, and the world and what is in [Page 21] it, which for his sake they forsooke, they seeke after, more earnestly, then before they left it; and thus they draw their mynd, and affection from God, applijng them selues, to base, vile, and transitory things; notwithstanding the experience, they often had, by many comforts, and consolations, of Gods goodnesse, and loue, when they did proceede sincer­ly.

3. And one thing may be much ad­mired; to wit, that these vngratfull peo­ple, do goe to prayer, as boldly, and wit­hout all feare, as if they had done no in­iury, to God, nor wronged themselues; and they are not ashamed, to aske, or ex­pect spirituall comforts, and fauours of his diuine Maiesty, after so great an af­front: are these to be regarded, or fauou­red more by God? certainly, they deserue it not; vnlesse with a humble submission, and acknowledgment, of their abuse, and wrong committed, they returne to his Maiesty, forsaking all, and restoring what was vniusty taken away, without which, this recollection is not had agai­ne, for it doth consist in this, that the powers are introuerted, and not troub­led with any vaine or worldly thoughts. as is formerly said. But they who goe on, [Page 22] with their endeauours, to please God; doe easily find how sweet, and good, our Lord is, to those that loue, and doe seeke after him.

4. It is a comfortable thing, to speake of the next degree (to which they are brought after that recollection) and of what passeth there; and seriously to con­sider it, is most ioyfull, and pleasing; but to feele it, is in excesse delightfull; this is in Quiet Prayer, where the soul is placed to rest without labouring or discourse; heere she is feasted with varietyes of hea­uenly comforts, diuine consolations, and ioyfull delights, farre surpassing sen­se; heere she doth begin to taste of the food of Angells, and is reposed in the bed of sweet content; certainly, if all the honours, pastines, and pleasures of this world, were in one, and to continue, and be enioyed for euer, yet compared with one only moment of the ioy, content, and satisfaction, which heere are had, all that would appeere to be meere no­thing; for as farre as the heauens, doe ex­ceede the earth, in greatnesse, and perfe­ction, without any proportion; so doe these spirituall comforts, without any equality, or proportion, exceede all the others; words cannot expresse, what it [Page 23] is; but those happy soules can best tell, and declare it, that by experience hath often knowen and felt the sweetnesse of it.

5. This Quiet prayer doth consist in this, that the soul and all the powers, af­ter labouring to find out whom she doth deerely loue, are brought by his diuine Maiesty, from that laborious discour­sing, and searching for him; to the place of rest, that is farre within her selfe, whe­re, in great silence, and peace of all the powers, she doth enioy his presence, and is vnited to him strongly by loue, and doth remaine in his sweet embrace­ments, with great content, and satisfa­ction; and this is therefore called quiet prayer, by reason, there is no discoursing nor noyse of inward wordes vsed, in it, where with, the soul, and powers, were often weryed, searching to find him; but all are silent, and quiet; not that they doe omit to worke, but it is so sweetly done, that it is scarcely perceiued, by reason they are in contemplation, and with one simple looke, they are in admiration with great ioy, and doe feelingly vnder­stand, more in an instant, then they could attaine to, with all the discourses possible; let not any thinke that the soul [Page 24] doth see any image, or shape wherein God doth appeere when his presence is named heere, but only that she hath a fixt memory with a liuly faith that he is there, and that by the effects, which she doth find in her selfe it appeeres; as a great ioy and inward satasfaction of all the powers. Also a light which procureth a most humble and reuerentiall respect in the soul with a kind of certainty of his presence, with which, she is so contented & delighted, as if nothing more rested to be desyred in this world: and this con­tent doth redowne euen to the body which is neuer wery whiles that quit content doth hold;

6. And obserue, that as it is former's said, the will being only vnited, the other powers, which are not so, doe keepe he often in warre, and doe molest her much endeauouring to bring her from her rest, and content, to passe the tyme, (as we may say) with themselues, but their labour is in vaine, and the contrary doth often happen. for she doth cause them to returne to their quiet rest with her, for she doth labour to keepe in, that litle spark of fire, of the loue of God, estee­ming it (as of right she ought) of great worth; for thence (if she be not in the [Page 25] fault,) in tyme may proceede a great fi­re, and flames of diuine loue; for she doth now by experience well know, how great good it is, to adheare to God, who gi­ [...]th that small begining, as a liuly token of his affection, and earnest penny, to bind the bargaine, and confirme the agreement, betwixt them; to wit; that she must not be longer of this world, though liuing in it; but of those, whose conuer­sation, is in heauen; and dispose her selfe, for greater, and higher matters; and to be disposed of, only by his diuine Maiesty; who hath now chosen her to be of his priuat chamber, and to seeke after no­thing but what shall be to his honour and glory; O admirable dignity and hap­pinesse?

7. Let not any soul that is come to this state, vnderualue her selfe, nor think it want of humility, to conceiue that she is fauoured, by God; for one will be mo­re thankfull, that he knoweth the great­nesse of the gift, or benefit, and dignity of the person that giueth it, then if they did not marke it, or did forget it; or would not acknowledg it, but she must with an humble submission, and holy presumption acknowledg that she is fa­uoured, without any merit, on her part; [Page 26] and that it is the meere goodnesse, and mercy, of his diuine Maiesty that will haue it to be so; that she may know how much she is obliged, and returne a since­re affection, answerable to his intention and not frustrat him, of his expectation; for certainly this will encourage her, to goe forward, dayly in Gods seruice, and to vndertake greatter matters, for his lo­ue, honour, and glory; and belie­ue it, that a soul truly humble. cannot haue a greater confusion, then to see her selfe fauoured, and honoured, without any desert or merits; and well knowing her owne demerits; which causeth her, to be more humble, and thankfull; and de­sirous, to please him more then formerly; for this truth is imprinted in her, so fee­lingly, that she cannot but see, and con­fesse it; so that in the presence of that Maiesty, which she knoweth to be so great, and powerfull, she would euen an­nihilat her selfe, if that she could; for she is not ignorant, of her owne nothing, and vnworthynesse;

8. But some soules, doe thinke their tyme lost in prayer, and without profit, when they doe not discourse, but are in that solitude, silence, and quietnesse, not knowing what they doe, or ought to doe, [Page 27] in that case; but they are mistaken; it is not so; as they themselues, both then, and after, doe perceiue, by the effects, which they find in themselues; for first they find an alteration, and sweet content in them selues, they perceiue a great satisfa­ction, in all their powers, with so great suanity, that it doth redowne to the bo­dy, and senses; in so much, that at that ty­me, it would grieue them, to be molested, called vppon, or spoaken to; nay they would not moue, nor stirre, nor breath, least to hinder their sweet repose, and ioyfull rest in God; and after prayer, there remayneth such a memory, and im­pression, of his presence, in the soul, that she cannot in a very long tyme forget him, and this quietnesse is so pleasing, with so great humility, and feeling, that if they were called to dinner, or supper, their griefe is not litle, and I haue seene the teares run downe the cheekes of some as they did eat; lamenting that they were forced to leaue that celestiall banquet, with their Soueraigne Lord, and only good; to feede and feast, a corruptible body, their greatest enemy, and cause of their most hurt, and euil.

9. But let them not be troubled, that they doe not discourse, nor knowe what [Page 28] they doe; and only rest in that sweet con­tent, with God, for he teacheth them in an instant as is said, more, then what with the discourses, of all their life, they whould be able to reach vnto: therefore our Holy Mother doth aduise to stay in that silent quietnesse without noyse of inward words, enioying that sweet con­tent attending to nothing else; for now she is in possession of what she sought for; so that all her discourse, is now in vaine, and to noe other purpose, then to trouble her in her ioy and rest. Yet if her quietnesse, and feruour be declyning, or decaying; it will doe well, to make some amorous act which may blow the coale, and keepe in the fire of diuine loue, least it should decay, and perish; but this act must be made slowly, and attentiuely, with great sweetnes, for if you vse any force to increasse the seruour of your spirit, it is no other, then to cast water to smother and extinguish that litle fire, of deuotion, which is as yet burning; for this being a supernaturall gift, and his worke, you must with humility giue his diuine Maiesty way, to doe in you, and with you, what he thinketh sitting; and it is his worke, to increase it, or diminish it; for it is beyond our reach; and therefore [Page 29] in vaine we labour, to attempt that which surpasseth our ability, and exceedeth our forces; and if the vnderstanding shall seeme to bring reasons to moue the soul to more sorrow, or gratitude, let not the soul permit it, nor regard it; but keepe the vnderstanding as quiet as she can, without troubling her selfe; and if she cannot so doe, let her keepe her selfe in her rest, and content; and not mynd, what the vnderstanding doth in that; but leaue him of, to himselfe;

10. You must also note, that as I sayd formerly, she must not be desyrous of gusts, and consolations; but content her­selfe, with all indifferency, in what shall be done by his diuine Maiesty, and be as Gusts and conso­lations must not be desired in pra­yer, nor affe­cted, for it she­wes litle humi­lity. ready, to help our Sauiour, to carry his crosse; that is, to suffer aridityes, tempta­tions, and contradictions, as to be fea­sted at his table, with delights, and conso­lations; for truly; the more we desyre, and seeke after these gusts, and comforts, the lesse we shall haue of them, and the lesse mortified, and perfect we shall be; for it is a great want of humility, as I said els­where; and for that presumption, and want of humility, the soul is depriued, of what comforts, she had; and often doth remaine in great aridity. Therefore we [Page 30] must allwayes humble our selues, and acknowledg our selues, vnworthy of any fauours from his diuine Maiesty, whom we offended; and with plaine simplicity, offer our desyre, and some resolution, or purpose, to doe somewhat, though neuer so litle to content, and please him; with which he is more pleased, then with all the learned discourses, eloquent words, and pregnant reasons, which can be offe­red to him.

11. And when the soul is in that quiet­nes, and so neere to his diuine Maiesty and after that she is now familiar and satisfyed with great ioy, and content, is the best and only tyme, to pray, and com­mend the necessityes of the Holy Church, the soules of Purgatory, the conuersion of sinners, our parents, frends and benefactours, and other necessityes to his diuine Maiesty; not by noyse of wor­des, but by an affection, and feeling de­syre, that his Maiesty will be pleased, to grant, what is desyred; for it is no more then to haue these in your mynd, and with a simple looke, to present them to him, for he doth well vnderstand the least of our desyres, and that simple me­moriall, with a sincere affection, doth preuaile more with him, then all the re­thorick [Page 31] of the world; and if the recolle­ction or quietnes be great, the soul can­not without much trouble, either produ­ce or attend to any inward framed words; Also it would diuert her attention from the better, and principall obiect: as if one looking with content on a sweet pictu­re, should heare a noyse behind him, and should turne about to see where, and what that noyse is; would not he be di­uerted from that content; which he had in beholding the picture? doubtles he would; it is the same in this; for if the soul that is seriously applyed, and ioyed in God, should looke back and attend to the fra­ming, and noyse of the words, inwardly pronounced, by this attention, she would be diuerted from that sweet content, which she had in God; therefore woords of discourse must be omitted, or that content lost.

12. Our Holy Mother doth declare in In the castle of the soul. mans. 4. a good manner the difference betwixt the comforts, and consolations, which proceede from our discourse, and that which his Maiesty giueth, without our labour; comparing them to water, which in two wayes, or manners doth water a garden, the one is brought from a farre of, with labour, and through conducts; [Page 32] or gutters, and falling into some sisterne is distributed, or cast heere and there to water the garden, this is like the noyse, and labour of the vnderstanding, that with many reasons, and discourses, doth moue the will, to some pious affection, wherin she is comforted and delighted: but the other is neere hand, and at home, increasing allwayes, in silence, and not perceiued, whence it cometh, but the si­sterne is seene full, and runing ouer, which watereth the garden better, more plentifully, and without the labour of the gardener, by reason the spring is in the bottome of the sisterne, whence wit­hout noyse, the water doth issue. euen so, the gusts, and comforts, had in quiet pra­yer, doe proceede from the euer liuing spring, that great God, of glory, and all consolation; who is in the center of the soul, and without any industry or labour on our part, doth fill vp the sisterne of our heart with vnspeakable ioy, whence not knowing how, the water of comfort, ouerflowing, in silence runneth to all partes of the garden, that is, to all the po­wers, senses, and the very body it selfe, watering, and delighting all; and they admire, whence that so great content should be, which they doe feele; and in [Page 33] this sweet content and delightfull admi­ration they doe rest. the other water doth penetrat but litle, in comparison of this; for this doth enter into the very depth and inward substance of the soul; and leaueth her satisfied for a long tyme, by reason it is more plentifull, and in grea­ter abundance.

13. And this is the benefit of an hum­ble soul, for as water remaine's not on the tops of hills, or mountaynes, but fall's into the lowe places, and valleys; so The good of a hum­ble soul. the water of comforts, and the grace of God, cannot stay vppon the hills, or mountaynes of proud and presumptuous spirits, but doe fall into the valley of hu­mility, which is the humble heart, that thinketh lowly of it selfe; for he doth loue to be with the humble, and vppon them his Holy Spirit doth rest, and to them he giueth his grace, and bestoweth such fauours vppon them, that with the great content, and inward ioy which they feele, the powers, and senses are sus­pended. when he is so pleased; and the waters of delight, doe so recreat. and comfort both soul, and body, that some being sick going to prayer, and brought to this quietnesse, are not only during the tyme of that prayer, senslesse of any [Page 34] sicknesse, but after prayer, are voyde of all paine, and in good health; and many going to it with sore heades, after that prayer, are very well; and this is a kno­wen thing by experience;

14. So that this prayer, leaueth great effects in body, and soul; for besyde what is said aboue, it dilateth the heart, and maketh the soul, more capable of diui­ne fauours, and free from seruile feare, worldly affections, and proper interest, she now doth take delight in doing of pennances, she regardeth not commodi­ty, or health; so she may but please and serue God in any thing; her faith is more liuly, her desyre to suffer persecutions, and wrongs, for loue of him, increaseth; she doth more feare to offend God, then all the torments and deuils, of hell; by reason she doth now loue him, whom she doth then perceiue to be truly loue, and praise worthy, by all creatures, for his owne goodnesse, and perfections; and therefore she doth vnderstand, that it is an vnworthy thing, to offend so high a Maiesty, in the least thing: which doth cause her to keepe a pure conscience, as neere as she can; her hope, and confiden­ce, in his diuine Maiesty, and desyre to enioy him in glory for euer, is greater, [Page 35] and more constant, then formerly. and thus are the labours of a louing soul well recompensed.

15. O how highly then ought we to esteeme this benefit? and desyre to plea­se him, who hath so great a care of vs; O my deere Iesu, the true louer of humble soules, why are there not many more, that by this way of prayer, doe seeke after thee, to partake of these diuine benefits, and celestiall communications, since thou art so good, so liberall, and willing to enrich all, with these and many more heauenly blessings and fauours? our Ho­ly Mother sayes that the reason of it, is, In her life chap. 11. that we doe not dispose our selues, as we ought, and put on a strong resolution to forsake all things at once, and our selues chiefly; but doe reserue some interest, or other, that we ought for his pure loue, vtterly to mortify, and forsake; though we esteeme them, but small matters: which really are of great importance, though it were, but our affection, to our parents, or frends; or perhaps; they doe not belieue what is written of these things; by reason they seeme to them vn­possible; and that what is sayd of these rare matters, is but a flowrish of faire and sweet words, and no reall truth; but [Page 36] my God, thou do'st well know, that they are reall deedes, and therefore, the hum­ble soules, that goe on in thy seruice by this way of prayer, thou do'st often ma­ke wonderfull to the world, in their li­ues, and workes; which others doe not take to heart, nor consider a right. The­refore I beseech thy diuine Maiesty, to giue all that shall read this booke, and follow this path of prayer, a true feeling of what is heere said; for then they shall see, and know this truth, and how farre short, all words, and expressions, are, to what really, and ioyfully is had in this blessed exercise of prayer.

THE III. CHAPTER. Of the sleepe of the Powers.

1. IN the former degree, you haue seene what quiet prayer is, and how sweetly the soul is pleased, with the in­ward content, and satisfaction, which she doth feele therin; so that she doth think, that there is nothing more to be desyred in this life. But whereas the power of God, is infinit, and his workes, without limit, we must conceiue allwayes grea­ter matters, of his diuine Maiesty; and that as we dispose our selues, (with the [Page 37] grace of God) increasing dayly in hu­mility, and loue; he will impart his bles­sings, and communicat his fauours more and more vnto vs.

2. Yet true it is, that the least of these diuine, and supernaturall communica­tions, is so sublime, and transcending the capacity, of our weake vnderstan­ding, and is so comfortable, and delight­full to the soul, not vsed to the like; that she doth esteeme it very much, and thin­keth that nothing more, or greater can be had, or desyred in this life; But the, wayes, and inuentions of God, to com­municat himselfe to soules, and bring them to his diuine loue, are many, and farre beyond our reach, and vnderstan­ding; and he is powerfull to giue them great gifts, and vnknowen fauours; though it is vnpossible for vs, to expres­se by words, the fauours which we doe receiue in prayer, being supernaturall, vnlesse his diuine Maiesty be pleased, to giue vs, the ability, to know the gift, and how to make it to be vnderstood, by words; for there is great difference bet­wixt feeling, and vnderstanding, what we feele; and as our Holy Mother saith, it is one fauour to receiue a gift, and an other to cause vs to vnderstand the [Page 38] supernaturall, gift, which we receiue; In her life chap. 17. and an other, to know, how by words, or examples, to expresse it, and cause it, to be vnderstood; by our directour;

3. And this, as a speciall fauour was In her life Chap. 30. granted vnto her by God, aboue any, that I haue seene, or read that wrote of those diuine communications; for the very cleerest of them all, is obscure enough; but she as one well experienced, and instructed by the holy Ghost, hath so plainly and clearly declared the seue­rall wayes, that in euery degree of pra­yer, God worketh in the soul, and what effects he doth produce in her, and what in these occasions, the is to doe, and how to behaue her selfe, that the directour knoweth, reading her writings, what to examin, and the penitent how to vnder­stand, and declare herselfe, that her dire­ctour may be well informed of her spi­rit, and conceiue things aright; which otherwise, though neuer so learned, wit­hout the experimentall knowledg of them, he could not vnderstand, nor she expresse; and so the penitent soul by the Ghostly Father not vnderstanding her, might suffer very much, and be hindred of her spirituall profit, as our Holy Mo­ther and others that she writ of, were; [Page 39] and put rather backward, then forward in prayer, and vertue;

4. Now to speake more of this degree, then is spoaken, in the first chapter, see­mes superfluous; but deere Christian soul, the more that such matters, as these, are repeated, and some litle thing, giuen better to be vnderstood, the more profi­table, they are, and not in any way super­fluous; therefore out of her workes, I will adde (to what is formerly said of these degrees, and of this in particular) that which I haue obserued, which may be the better vnderstood by this example.

5. A young chield, desyring somwhat that he doth want, not able to help him­selfe, doth fall a crijng and is not at rest, vntill his Mother, or nourse doth take him, into her lappe or armes, and giueth him the brest to suck; with this, he is si­lent, and quiet, and when he hath taken sufficiently, and his belly is full, as we may say, he begins to slumber and fall a sleepe, and at last, he is soe heauily and deadly a sleepe, that she takes the dugge out of his mouth, and placeth him where she please, to rest, he not knowing, nor feeling what is done to him, or with him. In like manner, the soul in meditation is the child crijng for somwhat that she [Page 40] doth want, and is not at rest, vntill his diuine Maiesty doth take compassion vppon her seing her weryed, and almost tired by the labour of the vnderstanding and will, seeking to find him. then taking her into his lappe, he giueth her the teat of his holy presence, which is supernatu­rall, by which she begins to suck the sweet milk of deuotion and diuine con­solation, and is thereby made silent, and contented, this is quiet prayer, then ha­uing taken sufficiently of that celestiall nectar, in that quiet content, with the dugge in her mouth (as we may say) or that diuine presence, she is so ouer de­lighted and satisfyed, and all the powers so ioyed, that by degrees they begin to slumber, or fall a sleepe, forgetting by litle and litle, all things of the world; where they are, and what they doe; this is called, the sleepe of the powers, yet is not the soul in a dead sleepe, for she holdeth the dugge as yet in her mouth, and doe not omit to worke somewhat, at last she is so replenished with that diuine li­quor, as one drunke and quite ouercome, she falls into a dead sleepe, she looseth the dugge, and forgets absolutly all what­soeuer is in heauen or earth, and then she is put to rest; yet; where or how, or [Page 41] by whom, she knoweth not, being drow­ned and in gulfed in the diuine essence with all her powers vnited, the poore bo­dy for that present, left quite forgotten, senslesse, and in a manner dead; and this is called vnion. that is, the soul and all the powers are vinted to the diuine es­sence, and she becomes one with God, or as our Holy Mother sayth, he taketh her and shut's her vpp within himselfe. in the height of this vnion, the soul knoweth and vnderstandeth nothing; but soone after, (for it holds not long) she knoweth what a great good she did enioy wherin all goodnesse is. But now to the sleepe of the powers I returne, which are not lost, yet the ioy of the soul is so great, that she knoweth not what to doe with her selfe through the vehemency of loue, and she cannot containe her selfe, her ioy and glory is so great; she faine would cry out, to giue notice to all creatures, of her de­light, and paine, (for this excesse of loue is not without a delightfull paine; that all might partake thereof, and praise God; she doth feele those effects in her selfe so perfectly, that they put her farre beyond her selfe;

6. And, then she doth speake many words, of loue, in the praise of God, wit­hout [Page 42] any order, not knowing what to say, or doe. the will seemes to be in a kind of frensy with loue, the vnderstan­ding doth see so many things together, that she knoweth not what to fix vppon but is kept suspended in admiration. the memory myndeth nothing, but what is present, so that the soul, in this spirituall frensy and strang disposition, knoweth not what best to doe, whether to be si­lent, or speake, to lough, or weepe; for she is in a restlesse quietnesse, and a sweet rest lessnesse through loue: then to thinke of returning, to vse the things of this world againe, is very odious to her; to walke, is troublesome; to speake and not of him, is very painfull, to eate, is a kind of death, though nature doth require it, Se her life chap. 37. to sleepe is worse; in fine, all things which may in any wise hinder her, of the enioy­ing so great a good, though for a mo­ment, and for her very health, doth mo­lest her, and giueth her no satisfaction, nor content;

7. She doth not desyre to see, or spea­ke with any, in this world, but with such as are in the same frensy, or sick of the same disease, faine she would enioy God wholy, and know nothing but him; it seemes, that S. Augnstine was sick of [Page 43] this disease, when he sayd, our heart, o Lord, is allwayes vnquiet, vntill it rest in thee;

8. Of the soul also in this spirituall drunknesse, it is said in the canticles; he brought me into the winecellar, and or­dered Cant. 2. v. 4. in me charity, there she was ouer­come with the strength of those diuine liquours, she became wholy drunke with loue, she could goe no further, nor part the place, but fell into the armes, and sweet embracements of her beloued, who placed his left hand vnder her head, and embraced her with his right; by the left, vnderstand his mercy, keeping her from sinne, least she should fall, and by the right, his loue couering her ouer with many graces, blessings and fauours.

9. O Blessed drunknes, o happy fool­lishnes, o diuine frensy, o celestiall loue, who can tell your worth? O true louer of our soules Christ Iesu, how forcibly with the odours of thy sweet oyntments, do'st thou draw young Virgins, to witt, pious soules, after thee? if the loue of mortall creatures, be so forcible, as to de­priue people, of their witt, and the vse of reason, and euen to cause them run naked and sensles about the streetes, what shall we say then of this diuine lo­ue;

[Page 44] 10. These pious soules, O Lord, are in loue with thy infinit goodnesse they are rauisht with thy rare beauty, they are ouer delighted with thy sweetnesse, they are not themselues, they are vnquiet, and haue no rest without thee; they feele in­wardly a burning fire, which doth con­sume them, and what is it? but that fire of charity, which thou ha'st ordered in them? they are by it strongly in loue, yea drunke with loue, and quite besyde themselues; they doe loue, and know not what, but what they loue, is that which thou art; faine they would enioy thee en­tyrely, and not by partes, being their on­ly good; this they desyre, this they inqui­re after, but know not, how it may be had; which maketh them wholy restlesse, vntill they rest in thee; for whether sickly or healthy, ill, or well, liuing, or dead, in heauen, or hell; they regard not; so they may be with thee; for they are wholy thyne;

11. This diuine loue, doth leaue them no other force or ability, then to leaue themselues wholy to God, and giue con­sent, that he may dispose, all, and doe with them, what he please, and as he thinkes fitting; in so much, that then they cannot (though they would) apply them [Page 45] selues to any other thing, but to adheare to God alone; neither can they diuert themselues neuer so litle, without great paine.

12. Heere they cannot but be attenti­ue, heare, see, and know his sweet whis­per, pleasant voyce, and Holy will, with great content; heere they may say with Samuell the Prophet, speake o Lord for 1. king. 3. v. 10 thy seruant doth heare, that is to say, is attentiue to heare, and know, what thy will, and pleasure is, to obey and fullfill it; and with Holy Dauid, say, I will hea­re, Ps 84. v. 9. that is, attend to what my Lord shall speake in me; for he doth speake peace vnto his people; as if he said; I will giue care attentiuely to the words of my God, for they are of that Maiesty, and vertue, that though my soul were in darknesse, tempted, and troubled, the on­ly sound of his voyce disperseth all on a sudden, leaueth a light, and inward pea­ce to all my powers, and senses, with so great ioy and satisfaction; that they are wholy recollected, and setled, and in a manner totally drowned in delight.

13. VVonderfull are the effects that God worketh in the soul, that is in this degree, farre surpassing those of quiet prayer; for besyde that she doth possesse [Page 46] his diuine Maiesty, more entirely, then in that; and that her ioy, and delight, are greater; her loue increaseth to a great height, and her vertues are more solid, and her inward change is noted, by her outward behauiour, which she cannot couer, nor hyde; for all her actions are more stayd, and graue, then formerly; and she would not liue longer in this life, if she could; and her desyre is so great to be with him in endlesse rest; that it were sufficient to end her, if it were not that she doth think to doe him some seruice, in suffering the miseryes, and persecu­tions of this world, for loue of him, estee­ming that as yet, she did very litle, or nothing, in his seruice, who, is goodnes­se it selfe; and to whom she is so much obliged;

14. Her intention to please and ho­nour him, is pure without any selfe inte­rest; she feare's no trubles, nor any thing of this world, but to displease him, in the very least imperfection, she doth proceede with all fidelity, and sincerity; her conuersation is only, and wholy in heauen, with, and for God; she doth not affect her owne content, or gust, though neuer so spirituall, so much, as the honour of God, and to doe his will in all things;

[Page 47] 15. O loue great is thy worth, and greater thy worke, they that doe possesse thee cannot but worke; they aspire to great matters beyond theyr ability, thin­king all things possible to loue; therefore S. Paul sayd, I can doe all things, in him, Philip. 4. v. 13 who doth strengthen me, Christ, they are neuer better feasted, neuer more io­yed, and delighted, neuer more sweetly comforted, and contented, then when they suffer troubles, disgraces, persecu­tions, torments, and euen death it selfe, for their beloued; therefore our Holy Mother S. Teresa was wont to say to In her life chap. 40. God, (with whose loue she was inflamed) graunt me o Lord eyther to suffer, or to dye; for nothing but suffering for his sa­ke could preserue her lyfe; for in this she had some content: and her compagnion in her troubles, the venerable Father John a cruce, allwayes desyred, either to suffer, or be contemned; and thus God is truly wonderfull in his saints; for what can be more admirable, then to see one desyre and thirst after those things. which are contrary, yea, destructiue to nature, as to suffer torments, and death it selfe? but this is the priuiledg and effi­cacy of diuine loue, which can haue no [...]est, but in the nest, where it was bred. [Page 48] and whence it came, so God loued the world, that he gaue them his only son, who suffered death with loue of them.

16. But you must obserue, that though commonly, in this degree, the vnderstan­ding, and memory are so well employed, that they haue no ability or power to ap­ply themselues to any other thing, then beholding and enioying what our Lord is pleased, to represent vnto them. Yet some tymes his Maiesty whose captiues they are, is pleased, to set them free, and at liberty; and though the will doth remai­ne strongly vnited, they may employ themselues in outward workes of vertue, as to frequent the quire, sing, write, read, and other workes of charity, according to their state of life, which in deede, is a great benefit; for then Martha, and Ma­ry, the actiue, and contemplatiue life, li­ke two louing sisters, doe walke hand, in hand together; for the will (as Mary) re­mayning in his sweet repose, and de­lightfull contemplation; they (as Martha) are well employed in outward actions, and some laudable occupations; yet they are not so attentiue outwardly, that they doe wholy forget the inward; and we may compare them to one, who hath one eye looking on what is outward, and the [Page 49] other to what is inward; for they doe well know, that the will (which is their principall part) doth remaine there vni­ted in ioy; and that there, their most at­tendance ought to be; so that they are not perfectly in the one, nor in the other, but this good, that memory, and cast of the eye, to what the will is a doing, bringeth to the soul, that when the out­ward employment is ended, they quickly desyre, their former solitude, and are ea­sily retyred, and recollected, with the will; and then the soul doth remaine in great quietnesse, tranquility, and inward peace, with admirable content and satis­faction, by reason all doe concurre and assist her, more seriously, compleatly, and perfectly to enioy her only good, and praise her God without impediment.

17. At other tymes. his diuine Maiesty is pleased to keepe the will and vnder­standing captiues, and vnited, leauing the memory, and imagination free at li­berty, and they finding themselues alone and not regulated or directed by the vn­derstanding, are very vnquiet and troub­lesome; and doe endeauour to disturbe the soul from her peaceable content and rest, desirous to bring the other powers, to themselues, but though it be a cruell [Page 50] warre, they are able to effect nothing, wanting the assistance of the vnderstan­ding, and will; yet howsoeuer, they doe molest her much, and the imagination doth present so many things, runing from one, to an other, that the poore soul cannot doe what she would; by reason whereof, she doth often lament, and make her moane to his diuine Maiesty, that she is so diuided, and not wholy vnited in his loue, and praise; and at length, he causeth them for her comfort, to be vnited with the other powers, and to burne in, and with the same fire, in which the others are almost consumed, loosing in a manner their naturall being, and liuing supernaturally in him. In this, and the like cases, and occasions, when any of the powers, are at liberty, and troublesome, you must doe as is for­merly said of quiet prayer, not regard them, nor attend to what they doe; but as a wiseman taketh no notice of what a foole saith, or doth; so she must doe with them, and remaine, as much as she can possibly in her sweet rest, and repose. this is of importance to be knowen by such as are come to these degrees of prayer.

18. And when a soul is come so farre [Page 51] as to begin to be wholy dead to all things of the world, and liue to God alone, her desyre to be with him, and enioy him, is to vehement, and her paine thence so great, that if his diuine Maie­sty by a speciall way, had not preuented it, and preserued her, it were more then sufficient (as is said) to seperat the bo­dy, from the soul; for she can think vp­pon nothing, desyre nothing, is satisfyed with nothing, but God alone, and the enioying of him, in his kingdome, of glory: which she cannot haue being a prisoner, in the miserable and corrupti­ble body; and therefore there is no death, so cruell, that could be offered, but she with vnspeakable ioy, would endure; that set at liberty, she might the better, and without any impediment, possesse for euer, whom she doth, so deerely loue, our Holy Mother doth affirme that the paine and agony, that the soul hath in this degree, with that desyre to be dissol­ued, and liue with Christ, where he is see­ne cleerly face to face, is such, that the soul hath neede to haue great courrage to beare, and endure it. Therefore she aduiseth that the soul in this occasion▪ must resolutly cast her selfe wholy into Gods hands, and care; and leaue her selfe, [Page 52] to his Holy disposing in all things; for she doth know, that she cannot doe litle, or much in this case; neither hath she other ability, but to giue her consent, and resigne her will, to receiue those, fa­uours, and embrace such gifts, as his di­uine Maiesty is pleased to bestow vppon her;

19. To this happinesse ordinarily, they only come, who are mortified, voyde of selfe interest, diligent in Gods seruice, feruent in his loue, prompt to doe his will, carefull and sincere, in all that is to his honour, glory, and praise; these are they, that his Maiesty bringeth into the wynecellar, to drinke of the choyse and best, to eat at his owne table, to be in his priuat chamber, to rest in the place of repose, and bed of delight; o how sweet is their conuersation, how diuine their embracement, how strong their loue? he said to his spouse, with perpetuall charity I loued thee; Heere he giueth her a taste, a begining, and a feeling of those ioyes, Ieremy 31. v. 3. and glory which are eternall; O who would not labour to attaine to so great happinesse, which is so easily granted, and had.

20. Come deere Christian soul, to him, by the practise of this Holy exercise of [Page 53] prayer, put on once a good resolution, and though perhaps in the begining you may haue some difficulty and be in dark­nesse, yet in tyme with your perseueran­ce, you shall be illuminated, and eased, come to him, I beseech you, though ne­uer so heauy loaden with sinne, be not a shamed nor a frayd, for he is truly in lo­ue with the least and worst of vs all, and I belieue farre more forward with loue of vs, then we can be with loue of him; this, his coming from heauen to earth, his Bitter Passion, his Pretious Blood shed, and his painfull death on the crosse for vs; doth testify; come therefore with confidence to him, and you shall not be confounded, nor get a deniall, nor re­pulse; the manner how to come to him, King Dauid doth declare, saying; with all my heart I sought after thee; (and not Ps. 110 v. 145. with a diuided heart) that is, that he lo­ued nothing else but God, for he resol­ued not to admit any other loue, into his v. 145. heart but his. and in an other verse of the same psalme, he said, I cryed vnto thee o Lord with all my heart; and therefore he was heard; for his prayer, like incense, ascended vnto God, from the altar of his penitent and louing heart, and it was so gratefull to his diuine Maiesty, that the 1. king [...] 13. v. [Page 54] Scripture saith, that he was a man accor­ding to God's owne heart.

21. Be not thou then daunted, come to this thy louing Lord, take delight in prayer, in his holy conuersation, and seruice; come with all thy heart, and then aske what thou wilt for thy good, and doubtlesse it will be granted; the pe­tions of thy heart he will regard; and if thou wilt dispose thy selfe well, and be perseuerant, thou mayst obtaine this happy degree of prayer, and at last, his diuine Maiesty seing thee according to his owne heart, will crowne thy labours with many diuine fauours, and celestiall benedictions, euen in this life; and in the other, in the land of the liuing, with endlesse glory, and felicity, and thou shalt see him face to face, where he is enioyed, and shall be praised by his Holy Saints and Angells, for all Eterni­ty. Amen.

THE IV. CHAPTER. Of the Prayer of vnion.

1. IN the former chapters, you haue see­ne how God doth bring a soul from the cares and troubles of the world, to a solitude formerly vnknowne, a superna­turall state, where, in silence, he speaketh to her heart; Now from that silent and quiet rest, and from that delightfull slee­pe wherein the soul falleth a dijng to all things of this world, through loue; his diuine Maiesty taketh her wholy to him­selfe, and doth conclude a spirituall mar­riage betwixt them both; in so much, that she is perfectly dead to all the world; that is to say, her affection is who­ly mortifyed, hauing no inclination to any thing created, and she is liuing only to, and in God, vnited to him, by a cele­stiall coniunction; that is, by all her sub­stance, and powers, to hs diuine essence, and substance, in which, she is so farre carryed beyond her selfe not knowing how, or whither, that she cannot percei­ue, whether she be in the body, or no, in the world, or out of it, for she is sunke in the depth, and altogether in gulfed in [Page 56] that incomprehensible ocean of his di­uinity, hauing lost the vse, of all her po­wers, and, inward, and outward senses; and is become the same, and one spirit with him, and therefore it is called vni­on, because two distinct things, are ma­de one;

2. In this vnion she knoweth nothing, but that her ioy and satisfaction, is exces­siue great; but afterwards, she can well perceiue that her profit is farre transcen­ding that of the former degrees, and that her vertues are more solid, and of higher perfection; she in this vnion doth not labour more, but God doth worke in her, she is the patient, and he the, diuine agent, who doth produce those wonder­full effects, and make her admirable to the world, she hath enough to doe, to re­ceiue those diuine fauours, and celestiall gifts, she is not satisfied with admira­tion, seing the great goodnesse, and libe­rality of God, towards such as she is; which doth cause so great humility, and loue in her, that she would euen an nihi­lat her selfe in the presence of so high a Maiesty; she is so drowned, that the body is quite forgotten and during that vnion, it is voyde of hearing, seing, and feeling, all her powers and senses are ab­sorpt, [Page 57] and in gulfed so deeply in it, that there is no memory left of what they were meditating, thinking, reading, or doing, but their ioy cannot be ex­prest;

3. Yet, as it is formerly sayd, this to­tall vnion doth not continew long, befo­re some of the powers are permitted to returne to their owne operations, the will still remayning strongly vnited, but they are so farre besyde themselues, that they can get no content or rest; vntill they returne to their principall againe, and eat of the same meat, and drinke of the same liquour, and then they remaine suspended, and vnited as formerly; nei­ther can they tell how long, or short a tyme, they are in that vnion; and though it were long, they are so swayed with ouer great delight, that it seemeth to them but very short;

4. I haue knowen one that was as yet but in the other degrees, and when the hour of prayer was spent, he could hard­ly be persuaded, that it was so, for he thought really, that he had not beene more then the space of one Aue Maria in it; not knowing what prayer he was in; what shall we thinke then of this? cer­tainly the least part of it, cannot be ex­prest [Page 58] by all the eloquence, and rethorick of the world, as it is; much lesse, the rest, which is more;

5. O how admirable and farre surpas­sing all vnderstanding it is, to compre­hend how Gods Holy diuinity doth en­ter in, and penetrat the whole substance and essence of the soul, leauing in her, a perfect impression of himselfe, that she is no more what she was, but truly deified, altogether in gulfed in the blessed diui­nity, now quite forgetfull of her selfe, and all that is in heauen and earth; for she is in possession, of him, who contai­neth all, and is more then all, and is her all; so that in the other, she may be well sayd, to be a dijng, but in this, to be truly dead, as you see, but to God alone, in whom she doth liue, and who doth liue in her.

6. This is a most happy state, a blessed rest, a sweet repose, a heauenly drunknes, a ioyfull alteration, a louing embrace­ment, a delightfull vnion, a diuine trans­formation, a totall Deification, and a blisfull marriage, confirmed; and signed with no lesse then his owne most Glo­rious diuinity, that as a bride and bride­grome, they are one spirit, she is parta­ker of his glory, looketh to his family, [Page 59] and attendeth only to those things, which belong to him, and to his honour, glory, and praise; and he hath care of her, and of what doth belong to her; now she is so burning with his loue and so solici­tous of his affaires, that she is neuer idle, she doth thirst vehemently after the con­uersion of sinners, and saluation of sou­les, as a thing belonging to her beloued, and to his honour, and glory; and to vn­dergoe, and effect this great and difficult worke, she doth find her selfe stout and courragious, and would giue a thousand liues most willingly (if she could) to gaine one soul, and therefore her prayers to God, are many, and haue no end; her teares and pennances for them, are great. no troubles can breake her, no persecu­tion, feare her, detractions doe not grie­ue her, murmuration and diffamation doe not disquiet her, she taketh contentedly, and ioyfully, all disgraces, so she may gai­ne but one soul to God, and in this, she is continually labouring; and to make his goodnesse knowen to all, that they may loue, and serue him, and with greater fer­uour allwayes praise him; and that they may dayly increase in all vertue, and perfection.

7. To heare any to flatter, or praise [Page 60] her, is a torment to her, to see her selfe esteemed, and honoured, is her greatest affliction, for she cleerly knoweth, that she deserues it not, and what good, ver­tue, or gift is seene in her, is not from her selfe, but from the fountaine of all grace, mercy, and goodnesse, her heauenly spou­se, without any merit on her part; and therefore to him she doth referre all ho­nour, and praise, to whom alone it is due;

8. The resolutions of such as come to this state, to doe some heroyick workes, for the loue, honour and glory of God, are as strange, and admirable as the rest; they know not what to doe with themsel­ues, they are so transported by loue be­yond themselues; and this loue doth ena­ble them and strengthen them to doe, what to others might seeme vnpossible, hence our Holy Mother S. Teresia did In her life chap. 18. make that admirable vowe, to doe in all things, what she conceiued, or should be informed, were most to God's honour, and glory, or of most perfection: which is a wonderfull thing; and a rare act. to tye her selfe so strictly vnder the penalty of a mortall sin, doing the contrary. But this is the efficacy and effect of diuine lo­ue, and this she did exactly performe du­ring [Page 61] her life. and her desyre of god's glory and honour was so great that she prayed earnestly that his diuine Maiesty would depriue her of the fauours which he be­stowed vppon her, and giue them to o­thers that might doe more good with them, for the conuersion of soul's, and the good of his Church, only that he might be the more honored, glorified and praised;

9. One of these soules, though but simple and ignorant; will doe more good in the Church of God, then many elo­quent preachers with all their art and learning. Consider S. Francis, who had no learning, and our Holy Mother, a simple woman, yet it is admirable to see what great good they haue done in the Church of God; and how many thousand soules by their meanes were, and are dai­ly saued; and so of others, who did the li­ke; the spirit of God doth efficaciously concurre with them, and their words, doe powerfully moue such as they con­uerse with, to a vertuous life, and the lo­ue of God. of these things you may read more at large in her life, and workes; for I doe speake but briefly of them heere, to giue some small notice of what his diui­ne Maiesty is graciously pleased to wor­ke [Page 62] in the soules which dispose themsel­ues, and endeauour in what they can, to loue, and serue him; that others may be encourraged to vse this Holy exercise of prayer, in which God doth communicat his fauours, and gifts to deuout soules, and giue them a taste of those ioyes, which are in heauen. I beseech his diui­ne maiesty to graunt this gift of prayer to many, for his glory, and the good of his Holy Church. Amen.

THE V. CHAPTER. Of seuerall other eleuations of the spirit, and how they differ from vnion.

1. OVr Holy Mother doth declare, that they that come to perfect vnion, commonly haue visions and re­uelations, extasis, flights and rapts, and that though, the extasis, flights, and rapts seeme to be one, and the same thing, yet in truth, they are not, as they who haue experience of them, by their effects can easily obserue in themselues, I shall touch briefly some of them heere, and so with God's help, end this worke; leauing [Page 63] the reader to peruse them more fully, in her workes, whence I haue collected the­se, and where they are farre more plainly exprest, then I doe heere.

2. The difference betwixt vnion, and these others, and of these betwixt them­selues, is knowen by their effects. and first the effects of vnion, are inward only, the soul alone enioying that happinesse, of which I spoake in the former chapter, for the body is senslesse, and destitute of any operation, or comfort; I speake of the totall, or perfect vnion; but in the exta­sis, or ra [...] the effects are inward, and outward; for the body is not destitute of its operations; also one may resist the vnion; though with great paine, but not the others; for often on a sudden, the soul is surprised, and carryed away, she then not thinking of God, and vnlesse the rapt be very great, or in the height (for then she knowes nothing as in the vnion) the senses are not lost, and one may perceiue, that the head is drawen af­ter she spirit, and somtymes by the force of the spirit, the whole body, is eleua­ted vpp into the ayer, and the party then seing the body, so farre aboue ground, doth begin to feare, and won­der at it; yet in this, both body, and soul [Page 64] haue great comfort, and ioy.

3. Heere the soul doth obserue the great power of God, to whom there can be no resistance; but when he is pleased, he will eleuat both soul and body, wit­hout our consent, and against our will; for at these tymes, as we are nothing, so we can doe nothing with our selues, but he, as Lord of all, disposeth of his owne, as he thinks fit, so that the soul is carryed in these rapts, she knoweth not whither, how, or by whom, but away she must goe; and for her greater comfort, his di­uine Maiesty is often pleasd to shew vnto her, the kingdome of heauen, and what glory, he hath prepared there for his true seruants, for euer; at other ty­mes, the Angells; then some saints, also his magnificent power, and he doth ma­ke 2. Gor. 12. v. 4 her vnderstand high misteryes, and great secrets, of which, as S. Paul saith, it is not lawfull to speake; also she doth see the Queene of Angells, the Mother, of God, in great glory, and the sacred humanity, of our Sauiour, in vnspeaka­ble Maiesty, and glory; and when he is so pleased she doth enioy the sight, and company of the most Holy Trinity; and at other tymes she is endued with the spirit of Prophecy; and knowledg of [Page 65] things to come: and the vnderstanding of the Holy Scripture. our Holy Mother In her life chap. 37. & Mans. 7. chap. 1. doth relate (as by obedience she was commanded) how the holy Trinity did appeere vnto her in the very center of her soul, and that she could not but see euery person, and the admirable glory, and Maiesty, that was present; she did speake to euery person, in particular, and they to her, in which, her ioy, and content, was so great, that it cannot be imagined; and it is no wonder, if the sen­ses should not returne to their owne functions from so great happinesse, that they doe there enioy; neither would they willingly, vnlesse it were as seruants doe, to obey and fullfill the will and command of their Lord; for his Maiesty will often haue it so; either for her spirituall profit, the good of others, or his owne honour and glory.

4. She also doth relate how she was in a rapt eleuated and taken to behold the kingdome and Glorious inhabitants of heauen, her owne parents, and some frends, and was brought to the blessed throne of God, to behold how the eter­nall Se her life chap. 38. word, the second person of the holy Trinity, the sonne of God, is resident in the bosome of his Father, and she saith, [Page 66] that the soul in these occasions can doe nothing of it selfe, nor behold litle or much, but only, what our Lord will haue her to see, or know; and as there be seue­rall degrees of eleuations, of the spirit, or rapts; in euery one of them, the light is greater, the knowledg more and pu­rer, the alienation from all things crea­ted, more perfect, the vertues more so­lid, humility chiefly, more profound; and the loue of God, increasing, (as they as­cend, one degree, after an other,) is so ordent and vehement, that the soul doth loath to liue on earth, and her absence, or separation from God, is so heauy a loade, that she doth liue but a painfull life, or rather, a tormenting Martyrdo­me, and lingering death; so that all her desyre, is to be dissolued, and be with Christ; yet though the paine, which she doth suffer, is very great, her inward ioy, is no lesse, if not more; but you shall see what she speakes of rhese degrees.

5. The first after vnion, is, when the soul (like vnto a flame proceeding, or ascending from a well kindled fire) bur­ning with the fire of diuine loue, goeth out of her selfe, ascending vpwards, and some tymes it goeth to a great height farre beyond the fire, whence, it doth [Page 67] proceede, and this doth seeme to those, that went no further, to be the same with vnion, but it differs much. For vnion, is like to the fire, which only burneth in­wardly, not giuing any flames ascending vpwards; but this going out of her selfe, is like flames ascending vpwards from the fire, and not to the fire it selfe; so that this fire increasing, and not able (by rea­son of its vehemency) to containe it sel­fe from blasing foorth, the sweet wynd of the Holy Ghost blowing on it, the soul is eleuated out of her selfe, and as this firye flame increaseth, it doth more and more consume in her, all terrene af­fection, and leaueth her, farre purer, and with greater freedome, and liberty, then in vnion; and though she knoweth not how it came to passe, yet she cannot but admire to see such an alteration and change in her selfe; and her profit to be farre greater, and with very great ioy.

6. At other tymes, his diuine Maiesty is pleased that the soul be struck and woun­ded at the very heart with a fearefull noyse in the most inward of her substan­ce, by a certaine delicat, subtile, and pe­netratiue impulse, and, as it were with a firy dart: or bolt on a sudden, proceeding [Page 68] from a thunder she not knowing how or by whom it came and though she hath hence great paine, her ioy and comfort, is farre greater then in the former, and though this noyse is not heard, with cor­porall eares, for it is inward, and a very silent noyse, yet instantly heard, and vn­derstood by the soul; and she doth cleer­ly and perfectly know that she is so cal­led vppon, by God as with a whistle and that she cannot but heare it, and sudden­ly feele a great certainty of his presen­ce, and it is of that Maiesty and efficacy, that it causeth all the powers and senses instantly to be recollected, attentiue, and giue their attendance, though at that present, they were much distracted, and they dare not then moue, or stire; and this celestiall call, impulse, or firy dart, doth so inflame her, that she is burning and a consuming with the fire of diuine loue, penetrating through her very bo­wells and the very inward substance of the soul; and her paine by reason of the wound, and the vehemency of loue, is so great, that she cannot containe her selfe, but lament, and with most sweet, and amorous words, complaine of her paine, (not being able to doe otherwise) to her deerely beloued, whom she knoweth to [Page 69] be present, and will not manifest himsel­fe, which is a spurre to forward and aug­ment both loue and paine; and though this paine is with vnspeakable delight, it doth not continue long, but cometh and goeth, and allwayes doth leaue the soul inflamed with diuine loue; her desy­re to please him, and serue his maiesty in great matters, doth increase; and her on­ly feare, is, least she should become vn­gratfull, for this, and his other great fa­uours, and benefits, which doth encour­rage her dayly to better her life, to con­tent him the more.

7. Note that in this rapt the powers and senses are not suspended nor drow­ned, but all stand in admiration, to see the soul in so great paine, worthy of compas­sion, and yet with vnspeakable delight; they wonder much what this should be, and they can neither helpe, nor disturbe her, but remaine in their attendance, with admiration. In these degrees, it doth happen that the soul hath many strong and sudden motions, when one doth heare a good sermon, or God well spoa­ken of, or praised, or musick, or at the sight of some sweet, and deuout picture; and this cometh with an impulse in the depth or most inward of the soul so ve­hement, [Page 70] sudden, and swift, that she can­not resist it, more then a chyld, to a Gyant, but away she is taken, and eleua­ted sometymes aboue all that is created, where she hath the visions, and reuela­tions formerly mentioned, and with the greatnesse of the glory and Maiesty which she beholdeth in God, she is much terrified, and doth conceiue a reueren­tiall feare, which causeth the very haires of her head to stand, and then she doth grieue, that she, or any other euer offen­ded à Lord of so high, and incompre­hensible a dignity, power, and Maiesty; and some tymes it is so excessiue, that the body in the rapt is eleuated forcibly a great height from the earth, as loathing all things on earth, and tending to the place, where it doth expect to be in end­lesse happinesse;

8. Neither is the soul, and powers for a long tyme after these great rapts per­fectly themselues; for they are not yet out of that sweet sleepe, or risen from that delightfull drunknesse, for they had Ps. 35. v. 9. taken plentifully of the varietyes, and abundance of his house, and drunke without measure of the torrent of those diuine liquours, with so excessiue de­light that they for a tyme after know [Page 71] not where they are, or what they doe.

9. Also when they returne to them­selues all things of this world are so dis­gustfull, and displeasing to them, by rea­son of the great ioy they had, that they haue an auersion from them, and would not daine, if they could, to vse the least of them;

10. She declareth an other degree, or sort of rapt, which she doth call, a flight of the soul, farre different from the rest and greater, this she doth compare to a fire that suddenly falling, doth fire, and burne all, whence proceedeth a great flame; so as the soul is suddenly fired all ouer, and doth burne so strongly with the fire of diuine loue, that her spirit li­ke vnto a great flame with a most swift flight getteth out of herselfe, in such a delicat and subtile manner, that it is ad­mirable, and in an instant she is placed where she doth see and vnderstand ma­ny great misteryes together, with all clearnesse, and truth; and she doth not only see the Holy Trinity and speake with euery person, but also doth obtai­ne some particular fauour of each of them.

11. Likewise she doth relate that God doth shew how all creatures are contay­ned [Page 72] in his diuine essence, and may be see­ne as in a faire christiall glasse; suppose, saith she, that there were a great round cristiall glasse, greater then all the world, without which there is nothing, and in which all things are included, and seene very cleerly; the same conceiue of God, in whom really, and truly, all things are contayned, and euen the very thoughts, words, and deedes, of euery one in parti­cular, may be plainly seene; she sayth that this vision was one of the greatest fa­uours, which God did, vnto her, and that a soul hath great neede of a strong courage, to behold what are there, chiefly the horrid and foul sinns committed against his diuine Maiesty, and the many abuses and iniuryes which dayly are do­ne to him in the world; this is able and sufficient (she sayes) to cause a separa­tion and an absolute diuision of the soul from the body, if God had not giuen her strength to bere it, or disposed of her otherwise;

12. She doth also speake of an other sort of rapt farre beyond the rest, and saith, that it is more then a rapt, for it is a very vehement and eminent rapt, and of great value and worth, this suddenly, at the hearing. God well spoaken of, or [Page 73] calling to mynd that he is absent, whom she doth loue most entirely, and often without any of both, she doth find in her selfe a vehement motion, and desyre to be with him, which is so forcible, that in an instant it doth penetrat the soul wholy; she knoweth not how it is, but doth feele it, and is not able to resist it, and she is taken, and powerfully carryed beyond all that is created, and placed in a strang solitude, desolat, and destitute of any comfort from heauen and earth, and she doth conceiue, that none of any of both, would keepe her company, or be a comfort to her, in that desolation; neither doth she desyre any comfort or compa­ny from them, but would there willing­ly suffer and dye.

13. And it doth happen as she saith, that his diuine Maiesty doth communi­cat him selfe to her in so subtile and ad­mirable a way, that it cannot be vnder­stood, lesse expressed by any, but by him­selfe; but she hath so cleere a knowledge then left in her, of his greatnesse and goodnesse, and his other incomprehensi­ble perfections, that it doth increase her loue, and augment her paine and tor­ments; loue doth burne, and consume her, her desyre to be with him, is able to [Page 74] separat the soul from the body, and she doth not know how to help her selfe, but by death, and therefore dye she would, to enioy his blessed presence in glory; this torment is the greater, that the me­mory of him, is so perfect and cleere; notwithstanding he doth absent him­selfe, which addeth much to her affli­ction.

14. In other degrees, or rapts, the ioy doth mitigat her paine, but in, this, she is destitute of all ioy, or consolation; and left in the furnace of tribulation, which is a very strong martyrdome, and so painfull, that as ioy, and ouer much de­light, in the other degrees, did suspend the powers, and senses; so paine doth in this. and it is of so great vehemency, that the very body doth partake with her, of it, and it is so disioynted, that a [...] the members seeme broaken, and for many dayes after no one member can be moued without great, and vnexplicable paine.

15. It is able to moue a stony heart, to read how our Holy Mother doth descri­be it, in her life, and what lamentation In her life chap. 20. and loud cryes she giueth out, to express her paine, only desyrous to be dissolue and be with Christ, and for her greate [Page 75] torment, in that solitude, she is put in mynd of that verse; I watch, and am as she Ps. 101 v 3. solitary sparrow alone, in the toppe, or roofe of the house; and she thinketh then that she is so; and in that case, and solita­rinesse; she doth remember these words, Ps 41. v. 4. & 12. (without procuring it) where is thy God. as if it were said, to her, where is he, in whom thou ha'st placed all thy confidence, where is he? why doth not he now helpe thee in this distressed case? hath he so forsaken thee, whom thou do'st, so deerely loue, and seeke af­ter? now he hath left thee destitute of all comfort, and consolation; if he had lo­ued thee, he would not forsake thee thus? are all thy labours come to this, that thou art left in desolation, without comfort, or helpe from heauen and earth? where is thy God? this (God so permitting) doth duble her paine, and increase her desyre, so vehemently to see, and be with him, that it is sufficient to take away ma­ny liues, if she had them; and that saying of S. Paul was represented vnto her, I Gal. [...]. v. 14. am crucified to the world, and the world to me, so that she remaines in the grea­test torment that may be imagined, as it were crucifyed, betwixt heauen and earth;

[Page 76] 16. Our Holy Mother doth compare this paine to the paines of Purgatory, it is so excessiue, and when the soul doth perceiue that his diuine Maiesty, is to bring her into this solitude, and angui­shes of death (for truly it is no other) she naturally doth feare, and tremble; but once that she is in it, she would not be out of it: true it is, that the sensitiue or inferiour part cannot but loath it, being so ouer painfull, and apt to separat the body from the soul; yet the superiour, or spirituall part, taketh content in so suf­fering, for the loue of God; esteeming it, as in deede it is, of great value, and pro­fit. fot in this, she is most like vnto our Sauiour Crucified, destitute of any com­fort Math. 27. v. 46. from heauen or earth, which caused him to say, my God, my God, as what ha'st thou for saken me; and therefore she doth reiect all that formerly were wont to comfort her, to remaine in this paine, and conformity to Christ our Sauiour suffering, for as the gold by fire, she in this, is tryed, purified, and refined, as if she were come from Purgatory; her loue is now purer, and so excessiue great, that nothing can content or satisfy her bur­ning desyre, but the possession, and en­ioying of God wholy as he is, and not [Page 77] any particular part of him; and since she cannot iustly procure her owne death, to be with him; with great tendernesse, of heart, she doth lament, and bewayle her long bannishment, resigning her selfe wholy to his diuine disposing, and ear­nestly praying that her liuing as yet, in this case, may be very highly, to his ho­nour, and glory, which she doth allwa­yes, and in all things regard more, then her selfe; and desyre, rather then her ease, or to be free from her paine, though she were certaine, it should continue to the world's end.

17. In this paine, dying life, and ex­cesse of loue, towards God, our Holy Mothers soul was commonly in her later dayes, and the impulses of loue, were so penetratiue, and forcible, in her; that with the vehemency of one great impul­se of loue, her pure and blessed soul de­parted the body, (not of any other sick­nesse) and ascended into glory, where she doth most happily enioy him, whom she so deerely loued; this she did declare appeering to the venerable Mother Ca­therin of Iesus Prioresse of Beas the ve­ry day of her death; I beseech his diuine Maiesty, to grant this diuine loue, to all that are desyrous to serue, and loue [Page 78] him, with truth, though it be with ne­uer so great paine, yea, cost what it may. Amen.

THE VI. CHAPTER. Of the manner of inward spea­ches, visions, and reuelations, and how to discerne the true from the false.

1. SOme speaches, and visions are outward, as when a thing is heard, or seene, with corporall eares, and eyes; so one man doth see an other present, and heare him discoursing, or speaking of somwhat; Others are inward, that is, heard, seene, or vnderstood farre within the soul. of these some are imaginary, others intellectuall; the imaginary, is, when a thing is represented in some for­me, or shape, to the eyes of the soul; as for example, when you frame in your mynd, the image of your frend, who is absent; you doe see him inwardly, in a manner, as if he were personally pre­sent, you see his gestures, and behauiour, and may be moued, out of that sight, to [Page 79] loue him, or grieue for his absence, or to hate him, and his ill condition, or beha­uiour, and thus Christ our Sauiour or his saints may appeere, in the vnder­standing; and it is called therefore ima­ginary.

2. But the intellectuall, is without any image, shape, or forme; yet of more certainty, then the others, for spirits ha­ue no shape nor forme, but being pre­sent, they see, and vnderstand, in a more perfect manner, then in the other wayes; what each other doth intend. as the An­gells doe see, and cleerely vnderstand, one, an other in heauen: and in these three wayes, there are speaches, visions, and reuelations; the first is most subiect to deceipt, the second not so much, by farre; for the deuil can turne him selfe into the shape, of an Angell of light, to deceiue; but the last, is least of all subiect to deceit, as surpassing the actiuity, or reach of the deuil; and therefore is most secure, and without danger.

3. But that his wyles, and wayes may be knowen, and discouered; and that a soul may not be much troubled, to know (if she hath any visions or reuelations) whether they be true, or false. our Holy Mother doth lay downe certaine signes, [Page 80] and tokens, to discerne the true, from the false, as when they are from God or the deuil, and also to know when they may be framed by the imagination, which in some is very liuly, and acti­ue.

4. First obserue, that when any words, are spoaken outwardly, or inwardly, if they be from God, they come with cleernesse; that of the deuil doth bring darknesse. also when they are from the deuil you may resist, and reiect them, and diuert your vnderstanding, and not at­tend vnto them, when you please; but if they be from God, doe what you may, and diuert your selfe, neuer so much, you cannot hinder it, but must euen against your will, heare, and see, what is said, or done, so cleerly and distinctly, that you shall not forget, one sillable, though you would, all doe remaine so perfectly prin­ted in the vnderstanding. also by this, his diuine Maiesty, will haue vs to know, that he is all omnipotent and the true Lord of all, who alone, hath all do­minion ouer vs, and whose power, and will, none can resist, but must see, heare and vnderstand, when, and what he plea­seth; and if the words be of Prophecy, they shall hardly be euer forgotten till [Page 81] they take effect, for they leaue so great a certainty of their truth, in the soul; that she cannot but belieue, that all will be truly performed accordingly, as they are foretold, though by all reason, circum­stances, and the present difficultyes, they seeme vnpossible. of this she had great experience;

5. Note also, that some vnderstandings, are so pregnant, and the imagination so liuly, that they frame and represent things very perfectly, and perswade them­selues that they see, and heare, what truly they doe not; but it is a thing inuented, according to their fancy, by themselues. and it may be vnderstood thus; when a thing is framed by themselues, they can­not but obserue, and perceiue the vnder­standing working, and framing what it would, and producing the words though neuer so subtily; also they are dumbe words, without any light, or good effect in the soul, also you may omit to see, heare, or speake, when you please; but when they are from God, they come with light, and cleernesse, as is said, and you cannot diuert your selfe, but must at­tend, and the vnderstanding is set at rest, and in so great quietnesse that of necessi­ty, you must giue eare to what is said, and [Page 82] see what is presented, and they are not dumbe words, but his words, are words, and workes together; and some tymes, though they be not words of deuotion, but of instruction, admonition, or repre­hension, in an instant, they doe dispose, and recollect the soul, and doe moue her to a louing tendernesse, and illuminat, quiet, and delight her; which, words, or sights framed by the deuil, or our selues, cannot doe; and when the soul is in any affliction, temptation or aridity, though neuer so great, at the hearing of one word, or at any sight, that is from God, all doth vanish away suddenly; she re­maining with great light, quietnesse, con­tent, and ioy. which the others doe not; by this, the soul that is practised, doth well know, when they are from God, or no; and how powerfull, and operatiue his word is; and of what grear efficacy, his visions are;

6. Moreouer, you may obserue, that in an instant (which is to be well noted) many long sentences, and arguments are spoaken, and vnderstood (when it is from God) and the soul, shall remember euery word, and sillable, which in a long tyme, and with much study, and indu­stry, the vnderstanding would not be [Page 83] able to frame, or compasse. Also they co­me with such Maiesty, and efficacy, that when they are reprehensiue, they cause the soul to tremble and shake, and if they be of loue, they make her to, long, languish, and in a manner, melt to nothing with loue, but when they are false, they worke no such effect; and therefore the soul doth make litle account of them, and doe cast them at naught; so that neither the deuil, nor our imagination, though neuer so quick, and liuly, can worke, or cause those good effects in the soul.

7. In like manner, when the words, speeches, or visions are from the deuil, they doe leaue, and worke euil effects, and not good, in the soul; as darknesse, aridity, disquietnesse; and though the de­uil doth worke some sensible gust, in that occasion, which may deceiue begin­ners, and those of no experience; yet they who once tasted of the true visions, and speeches, will instantly know the difference betwixt them; for they that are from God, doe leaue in the soul a gust, very sweet, pleasing, forcible, and dele­ctable, with great quietnesse, and it is so deeply imprinted, that it cannot be for­gott. but that other which is false, doth suddenly decay and vanish away, as if [Page 84] there neuer were any such thing; neither is the soul any thing betterred by them.

8. Also the deuil is neuer able to coun­ter fit, or appeere with that maiesty, light, cleernesse, and liulynesse, with which our Sauiour doth appeere; for he doth come so resplendent and glorious, and his per­son, is so beautifull, that the soul cannot but know that it is he, and often his glo­ry, and her ioy, at his presence, are so great, that she is wholy rauished and de­priued of all forces; and this doth leaue in her, a true feeling knowledg, that he alone, is absolute Lord, of heauen and earth; and with this, she is extreamly comforted, hauing a liuly impression of him printed in her vnderstanding, euen after he is parted, which the deuil cannot effect, let him doe what he can. In this manner his diuine Maiesty was present for some yeares with our Holy Mother wheresoeuer she went; But in the intel­lectuall vision, which is more euident, eminent, and more secure, from all de­ceit, (being very supernaturall, and re­presenting the Angelicall manner of knowing, or vnderstanding) without words, formes, or shapes, or any image, by a notion so diuine, with admirable [Page 85] light, and cleernesse, she doth know, and see, in the very center of the soul, the most Blessed Trinity; and in this manner, the three persons, remayned in our Holy Mother, as wittnesses of what she did, and they did often admonish, and fore­warne her, to preuent some imperfe­ctions, into which in occasions, she had fallen, if she were not foretold of them; and she was so replenished with know­ledg of diuine Misteryes, and those chie­fely, of our Holy faith, that she was able to dispute, and conuince the most lear­ned protestants, shew their errours, and make the truth plainly, and euidently ap­peere. this she doth write, at which, I thinke, none can admire, she being full of diuine wisdome, taught and instru­cted by the truth it selfe.

9. And obserue that these high and great visions, are not as a certaine pre­sence of God, or some influence of the diuinity, which in quiet prayer, vnion, or other degrees of supernaturall prayer, are had; but in these, is the blessed body, and proper person of Christ himselfe, true God and man, the very son of the Glorious, and immaculat Virgin Mary, of which, the soul cannot doubt; neither can the deuil, as is said represent such [Page 86] great beauty, glory, and Maiesty, with which our Sauiour doth appeere, for all the glory that can be imagined, is but a darke cloud compared with this. and heere also is the most Holy Trinity it sel­fe, the very diuine essence, one God, and three persons, and each of them doe speake to her, and she to them, and of euery of them, she doth begg, and ob­taine some speciall fauour or gift.

10. And note, that some tymes, there are wordes, without any vision, the par­ty not knowing how, or whence they co­me, but they are heard, with the corpo­rall eares; other tymes inwardly, in the very depth of the soul, but cleerly, and perfectly vnderstood; also there are vi­sions, and no words, yet the soul doth get great benefit thereby; and there are visions and words to gether. But in what kind so euer they be, the soul, by the sig­nes, and effects mentioned, will easily know, whether they be good, or no, true, or false, which is a very great comfort to her; moreouer when the visions, and speeches, are true, they worke so effe­ctually in the soul, that she doth find her inclination to vices, and imperfections, decay, and true vertue taking roote in her, which the deuil with all his witt, and [Page 87] wyles, is not able to doe. Blessed be God who hath prouided so well for his owne seruants: he is truly wonderfull in all his workes, and as he is omnipotent, so nothing is to his diuine Maiesty vnpos­sible.

11. But though these signes, heere layd downe, (by which one may discerne the true from the false, and the good from the bad) are very good; yet she doth aduise, In her life chap. 19. though the fauours be great that none must trust litle, or much, to himselfe, or his owne iudgment, but in all, and euery thing, be circumspect and prudent, only acquainting his Ghostly Father, or dire­ctour, with what visions, or other fa­uours, God doth grant vnto him, and both of them, must not diuulge any of them, but vse all secrecy, and silence, commending it to God, vntill tyme doth try the truth; or his diuine Maiesty, by some other way, doth make it manifest, and knowen, if he will haue it so. for the deuil is apt, to tempt, and deceiue, and our nature is prone, and inclined to pro­per esteeme, and vaine glory, on small occasions, much more in these like;

12. And such as are desirous of true perfection, must be carefull not to affect, or seeke after supernaturall gusts, visions [Page 88] and reuelations; for it is a true token of an vnmortifyed spirit, litle humility, and much presumption; and to these God doth not commonly giue those fauours; but to the humble, that thinke themsel­ues altogether vnworthy of any such; for humility in this way of Spirit, doth preuaile much with God, and gayneth all.

18. Moreouer if in these supernaturall degrees, you find your prayer allwayes; after one manner; and your gustes, and quietnesse of spirit, at all tymes to be the same; your prayer is to be suspected, not to be right, but from Sathan; and in visions, if you can for a long tyme wit­hout alteration, behold that which doth appeere, whether it be our Sauiour, or any Saint, it is to be esteemed, an illu­sion, and deceit of the deuil; for all these great vnions, rapts and visions are of no continuance, but speedily doe alter, and passe away; that is to say, they doe not continew in that height of Maiesty or glory, though they may continew in a more obscure manner. and be present, and perfectly perceiued for a very long tyme.

14. And you must obserue that in the­se visions of our Sauiour, and his saints, [Page 89] you must haue a great respect vnto them, though they be from the Deuil, and ma­ke your spirituall profit of them; for you are not to hate, or contemne a sweet pi­cture, that representeth one whom you deerely loue, because it is made by a pa­inter of an euil life. but rather loue it, by reason it doth put you in mynd of your beloued, which is a comfort to your mynd. euen so, though the deuil being an excellent painter, should frame or re­present in vs, the forme or image, of our Sauiour, or any Saints, we must not dis­respect it, because it is framed by him, but vse it for our profit, with humility, and reuerence, for their sakes whom we loue, and it doth represent.

15. Also you must not thinke them the holyest, that haue consolations, vi­sions, and reuelations; for many are great saints, that neuer had any of them; and others, that had visions, and gusts, are not therefore saints, for true sanctity, as I often said, doth consist in solid vertue, and true conformity of our will, to the will of God, in all things; but the vi­sions, and gusts, are good, when they are from God, yet not to be affected, or desi­red; and the best, and most secure way, is, to be indifferent, to be disposed of, as [Page 90] his diuine Maiesty shall thinke fitt, and esteeme our selues vnworthy of any fa­uours.

16. Our Holy Mother doth giue vs notice of other deceits, which are inci­dent to manie, that haue some degree of supernaturall prayer, and doe vse great, and indiscreet pennances, and thereby doe bring themselues to great weaknes­se; and of others, who by nature are deli­cat, tender, and weake; these soules fee­ling in prayer those gusts, and ouer io­yed with consolations, and inward sweetnesse, doe languish, or rather through weaknesse yeald, as one whose spirits, are decaying, and failing, and doe leaue themselues in a manner dead, as if they were in a kind of rapt, by which, na­ture is extreamly hurt, and more weak­ned; and they think it to be some effect of prayer, or the spirit of God, that doth worke so in them, and therefore they remaine in that manner for some houres to gether.

17. But they must resist that weake­nesse, and shake of that sluggish disposi­tion, for it is no other: and if that weak­nesse, doth proceede from too much au­sterity, or pennance, by the aduise of their Ghostly Father, or directour, they [Page 91] must eat, and drink, sleepe, and recreat themselues well, for some dayes, vntill they acquire strength; for as is said, indis­creet pennance, is hurtfull to body and soul; and if it doth proceede from the tendernesse, or weake constitution of nature, they must be more employed, in the actiue life, and outward things, then in the solitary, or contemplatiue life; for the very solitude, is able to make them weaker: and therefore, let them be obe­dient, being applyed to outward things, and let them be sure, that this is very gratfull to God, and they no lesse saints; for as I said, sanctity doth not consist in contemplation, or hauing visions, or such like; but in true vertue, and confor­mity, of our will, to the will of God;

18. So that if obedience command the actiue more, or rather then the contem­platiue to be obserued; we must be who­ly indifferent, and resigned to embrace it with content; also euery complexion, is not fitt for solitude, contemplation, and much recollection; for some that gi­ue themselues to this, cannot goe for­ward, nor profit, by reason of their in­disposition of nature, that would be saints, if they had applyed themselues, to the charitable and humble workes, of the [Page 92] actiue life; for though Martha gaue her selfe, to the practise, and exercise, of the actiue lyfe, yet she was a S. as well as her sister Mary Magdalen, who gaue her selfe wholy to the contemplatiue.

19. So that they must in this case, re­sist that weaknesse, and belieue for cer­taine, that it is no effect of supernaturall prayer; for in this sort of prayer, the bo­dy is rather comforted, and delighted, then troubled, or weakned; by reason the ouer great content, and ioy of the soul, doth redowne to the body, and it doth partake of her inward felicity, as it is knowen by experience, vnlesse it be in the prayer of vnion, when the soul, po­wers, and senses, are wholy vnited, and drowned in Gods diuine essence, for though then the body be destitute, of all force, this doth not continue but for a short tyme (as I said elswhere) and it doth returne to it selfe againe, with strength, content, and great satisfaction; and in that vnion, though the body be for a short tyme, as dead, yet the soul it more liuely inwardly with God; which in that other, she cannot be, but heauy, and dull; without any good effect, yea rather with many euil, and hurtfull, to body, and soul. Obserue also, (if God [Page 93] be pleased to giue you any of those fa­uours, of Rapts, visions Reuelations or other supernaturall things of that sort) whether you be terrifyed or fearfull, at first, for commonly, if they be true, they worke that effect in the soul, though soo­ne after, she is in great quietnes, and con­tent; moreouer you must not goe to pra­yer through curiosity to know any thing by reuelation, nor adheare to your owne opinion, or proper iudgment, concer­ning any thing reuealed, but easily sub­mit to the saying of your directour, or other learned men. Likewise marke, whe­ther they be of vaine things, without any necessity, or profit to your selfe or others. and note, that whensoeuer by visions, words, or any such, (which you haue in these degrees of supernatutall prayer) you find not your soul bettered in hu­mility; or that you perceiue in your selfe, any litle smoake of selfe interest, proper esteeme, or vaine glory, make no ac­compt of them, but set them at naught, as false, and proceeding from Sathan; but the prayer, or vision, bringing, humility with it, is to be much esteemed, and God highly praysed, with many thankes for it.

20. Deere Christian soul, you may [Page 94] read of these things more at large in the life of our Holy Mother, and in the boo­kes which she wrote, called, the castle of the soul, or the mansions, and the way of perfection. for I haue collected these thence; only that they, which God doth bring to these degrees or haue visions, or reuelations, may vnderstand, reading this litle treatise, what prayer they haue, and whether their visions, be true, or fal­se, that they may not be troubled, or in continuall feare of being deceiued, by the deuil, as our Holy Mother was; which will be a great comfort to their mynd, and quietnes to their conscience.

THE VII. CHAPTER. Of some obseruations for the bet­ter vnderstanding of what is said concerning Prayer.

1. WHereas in the treatise of Pra­yer there is often mention ma­de of the sensitiue appetite, inferiour, and superiour part of man, also of seuerall degrees of contemplation, (which I suppose are knowen to the learned) I thought good for the better satisfaction [Page 95] of the ignorant, and vnlearned, to spea­ke somewhat of them in the conclusion of this worke. The sensitiue appetite, is a faculty consisting of two members; in the inferiour part of man; and hath its seat in the liuer and heart, or as others say, in the heart only, and it hath for its obiect, sensible good or euil, as it is appre­hended by the imagination, as conue­nient, or disconuenient. the members or partes of it, are the concupiscible, and irascible. The office of the concupisci­ble part, is, to incline to, and be moued to that which is good or agreable to it, and to decline, and shun that which is euil, or contrary to it; The office of the irascible part, is, to fight against the dif­ficultyes, which may occurre in the ac­quisition of the good, and shuning the euil; in these two, the eleauen passions, which are in man, are resident, six in the concupiscible, and fiue in the irasci­ble.

2. The passion is a motion of the sensiti­ue part, which is moued by the appre­hension of some good, or euil, as conue­nient, or disconuenient, pleasing or dis­pleasing to it. The passions of the con­cupiscible are loue, desyre, ioy or glad­nes, hatred, flight, griefe or sadnesse. Lo­ue [Page 96] is a propension of the appetite to­wards that which is apprehended as good; desire or concupiscence is a for­wardnesse, or extension of loue to obtai­ne and embrace the good beloued; Ioy or gladnesse is a motion of the appetite, reioycing in the possession of the good present; for example, one seing a faire horse, perceiues in him selfe an affection, or likeing to him, then desyre, or concu­piscence puts him on to cheapen, and buy the horse, at last hauing bought him, and being in possession of him, he feeles an inward ioy, and delectation, with which he is satisfied. Hatred is a displi­cence or abhoring that which is appre­hended to be euil or hurtfull. flight, is a turning, or going from it, sadnes or griefe, is an affliction or oppression for the euil that is present. as for example, one that is indebted knowing that a cer­taine officer hath a warrant to appre­hend him, by chance doth see him com­ing towards him; at the first sight of him, he is troubled, and doth find an horrour or dislikeinge in himselfe of it; then he desyres to shune him, but if he be taken, he is daunted, afflicted, and his heart op­pressed. and as the former passions, doe follow good, so these doe shun and flye euil.

[Page 97] 3. The passions of the irascible part, are hope, stoutnesse, despaire, feare, and anger. Hope is a motion, or erection of the appetite towards the good which it apprehends may be had though with difficulty. Stoutnesse is a motion of the appetite, by which it is encourraged against the opposit difficultyes which are imminent, and may hinder the ac­quisition of the good hoped for; despai­re is a motion by which the appetite is afflicted and deiected; by reason it appre­hends that the good hoped for, through the difficultyes imminent cannot be obtayned, or had. Feare is an act of the appetite by which it is oppressed, with the apprehension of the future eiul, which it thinkes will happen; Anger is an act of the appetite by which is it mo­ued to reuenge any iniury receiued.

4. And you must vnderstand that the passions allwayes come's with some al­teration of the body, chiefely of the heart, where all of them doe end. also you are to obserue, that when we say the ap­petite doth follow, or shun good, or euil, we doe not meane that, which is good or euil in it selfe only, but also which is apprehended, and presented by the imagination, to be such for often we doe [Page 98] imagine that to be good, which is abso­lutly euil; and that to be euil, which is good; as for example, one that is by so­me accident greatly afflicted, and in des­paire, thinkes it a great good to ridde himselfe of that affliction, by ending his life with poyson, as many doe, which is euil in it selfe;

5. Moreouer note that all these pas­sions, doe follow the knowledg that pre­ceede's from the senses, and seekes after the three goods, which are in request with the louers, of this world; and doe abhorre the contrary euiles; the first good, is that, which is called honest, that is, the esteeme or honour of this world, the second is that good, which is profitable, as riches wealth &c, the third good is called delectable, as the pleasures of this life. The contrary euiles are, Infancy or disgrace, discommodity or want, griefe or sadnesse, which increaseth in some to so great a height, through the heauinesse and dulnesse of spirit, and the languishing disposition of the body, that they are vnfit to do any spirituall exercise; so that such as are inclined to melancoly are vnfitt for the state wherein the exercise of mentall prayer, and vertues, is much vsed; for they are apt in occasions [Page 99] to fall into that euil. and obserue that if the passions be sweetly allured. and by reason, brought to follow vertue, which is truly good, they conduce to life euerlasting; but if they follow their owne dispositions, and wayes, they leade to endles damnation. which by the follo­wing example may appeere.

6. But for the better vnderstanding of it, I will first shew what the inferiour and Superiour part, or portion of man is. for by that you may knowe when you doe follow vice or vertue, good, or euil. and as the Superiour and inferiour part doth proceede, the habits of vices, or vertues are acquired. The inferiour part of man, is the vnderstanding, as it doth consider, order, and direct his actions, and other things, according to the ma­xims, and rules of the world, or created things. But it is commonly taken by spi­rituall men for, the whole sensitiue part, with all its members, in as much, as it may obey the vnderstanding and will. But as the vnderstanding doth consider eternall things and direct his actions and all thinge according to the law of God, [...] is called the Superiour part, or portion of man. Now to the example. A religious man that is bound by his institute to doe [Page 100] nothing without the licence of his Su­periour, being very thirsty, and hote, wal­king in the garden, doth find a faire ap­ple fallen from a tree, looking at it, the sensitiue appetite is moued with a desyre to eate that apple, then the vnderstan­ding discoursing according the law of nature, conceiues, that the eating of that apple is not only pleasing, and delecta­ble; but it is also profitable for his, health; for it will mitigate that heate, and quench his thirst, and this conceit is proposed to the will with those circumstances, all which is the worke of the inferiour part.

7. If then the vnderstanding which is ordered according to the lawe of god, the will concurring, or permitting, which is the Superiour part, doe neglect to consider that, to eate that apple is against the lawe of God, being a breach of his institute, or if he doth take noti­ce of it, and sleighting it, giues a kind of tacite consent, that the will may take de­light in it, and so the apple is eaten, wit­hout licence; this consent is a sin, mor­tall, or veniall, according to the quality of the matter; as if it be in a matter of mortall sin, it is mortall, if, of small im­portance, it is but veniall. this is called a lingering delight. But it is an express [Page 101] consent, when the vnderstanding deli­beratly doth consider it, and the will ad­here to it, so considered; so that the Su­periour part ought to suppresse that mo­tion, of the appetite, and with contrary reasons, to those of the inferiour part, perswade to omit the eating of the ap­ple, as being a sin, deseruing God's dis­pleasure, the paines of hell, and the losse of the ioyes of heauen, for euer. Also it might say, alas, what a small and transi­tory delight or content thou shalt haue in eating that apple, by which thou shalt loose eternall ioy, and glory. or thus, (when the inferiour part is earnest and the appetite much moued) my soul, did not our Sauiour Christ Iesus doe much for loue of thee, and wilt not thou for­beare this litle for loue of him▪ perhaps for this one act, ouercoming thy selfe, he will confirme thee in grace for euer, and such other like.

8. By this litle knowledg of the in­ward man, you may the better regulat your selfe to diuine matters, and by con­deration, or meditation, come to the contemplation of those things which are eternall. for meditation is a discourse of the vnderstanding by which we labour to find out the truth of things; which [Page 102] being found, the vnderstanding doth rest, beholding that truth with content, which is contemplation. In meditation, we are like a shippe at Sea, tending to­wards its port of hauen, through many dangers and crosse winds. for there, co­me's, one crosse wynd, of an euil repre­sentation, then, that, of an other distra­ction, then a tempest of some great temptation, then the heauy waues of the sensitiue appetites and passions (though not allwayes) giuing vs very litle rest, but (as the shippe with contrary wynds, and swelling sea's,) doe tosse vs too and froe. thinke then what great labour must the Superiour part take in this case? the­refore great dilligence, and art, is to be vsed, to get forward, and secure our sel­ues, that all difficultyes ouercome, we may rest at length, in the hauen, of sweet contemplation, (which is but a simple view, or beholding of the knowen truth, with content (for there, we are like a shippe at anker, and rest, in the hauen, so long, and so much desired, and wished for. by which you see, that meditation, is the high path way to contemplation, and without the long vse and practise of it, that rich iewell of contēplation is not had

9. Contemplation thus described, hath [Page 103] three degrees, the one naturall, the other supernaturall, the last diuine; by the first we contemplat God, as the authour and creatour of all things, and naturall veri­tyes, in them: as many philosophers did; in the second, by a supernall light in­fused, we contemplat God, as the au­thour of grace, of whom we receiue spi­rituall fauours and benefits; for we are borne the children of wrath, and by gra­ce in baptisme we are made the chil­dren of God. and come to know the wor­kes of grace. by the third, which is diui­ne, (as proceeding from the gift of the Holy Ghost, called wisdome) we con­templat God, and his diuine perfections; as that he is infinit, immense, eternall, goodnesse it selfe &c. to these three de­grees of contemplation, there are three appetites, or facultyes in vs correspon­ding. the sensitiue, the rationall, and the spirituall; by the first, we loue God, for our being as our creatour, by the second. we affect him, for his many benefits of grace, as our chiefe benefactour; by the third, we loue him, for his diuine perfe­ctions only, as worthy of all loue for himselfe; and according to these three, we may regulat all our actions, in this li­fe; of these that proceede according to [Page 104] the first S. Paul said. The naturall man 1. Co. rinth. 2. v 14 Collos 3. v. 5. (that is, he that followeth sensuality) receiueth not the things of the spirit of God; of the second, that tend to Chri­stian perfection, he sayes. mortify your members, which are vppon the earth; of the third, it is said by God to Abraham Gen. 17. v. 1. walke before me, (that is in his Holy presence) and be perfect, as Abraham, and Dauid did, who said to God, the me­ditation of my heart, is allwayes accep­table in thy sight. for those doe all things for the honour and glory of God.

10. Yet misticall diuines doe speake of an other degree of contemplation which they call, Sapientia vnitiua, an vniting wisdome; and it doth consist in the affe­ction of the will, rather then in the ope­ration of the vnderstanding, for by ana­gogicall or ardent acts of loue, and diui­ne aspirations, the will inflamed, in a manner without the operation of the vnderstanding, getteth out of it selfe, earnestly endeauoring to be vnited, and to adheare actually to God. this is, of great perfection. But that diuine con­templation of which I spoake formerly is an act of the vnderstanding suspen­ded in admiration of eternall things, proceeding from the gift of wisdome [Page 105] with an inward gust, and experimentall taste of celestiall sweetnes; for behol­ding so many rare and stang things to­gether; the vnderstanding stands in ad­miration, this admiration causeth a se­rious attention, this attention bringeth a pure and very cleere knowledg of Eternall verityes, with so great inward gust and sweetnes, th [...] the vnderstan­ding remaines wholy suspended; hence diuine loue increaseth, the soul is infla­med, and knoweth not what to doe with her selfe.

11. The effects of this diuine loue, are many, but those principally, An extasy, by which the soul seemeth to goe out of her selfe with seruour of spirit, to be transformed into her beloued; then li­quefaction. which is a kind of tender­desse, or melting of the soul, that the po­res all open, she might drawe her belo­ued into her selfe as the spunge doth wa­ter. Vnion by which they are vnited, and doe touch each other. as we see two things ioyned together. mutuall inhesion by which hey now vnited, doe strict­ly embrace each other. Penetration, by which with cordiall affections she get­teth within her beloued. Transforma­tion by which she [...] to be changed, [Page 106] into the forme and perfections of her beloued. Zeale by which she doth so bur­ne, that she can endure no Society of any in that good, which she doth posses­se; these effects of loue are more forcibly produced when the thing beloued is in her possession; but if her beloued be ab­sent, her desyre to enioy him, is so vehe­ment, (and this is called feruour) that it doth procure an other effect of loue, cal­led languor; by which, (out of the exces­siue griefe and paine, which for his ab­sence she doth conceiue,) she is often in danger to dye. for in deede it is able to procure a separation of body and soul, and it doth happen to some. you may read of these things more at large in seuerall bookes, but chiefely in the booke written by the R. Fr. Iohn of Ie­sus Maria, called the instruction of the nouices; and that which he wrote of ora­tion, and contemplation in the treatise of the passions; note that all the degrees of prayer and contemplation of which our Holy Mother speakes, may be redu­ced to those formerly mentioned. as the prayer of recollection, quiet prayer, sleepe of the soul, vnion &c. which are supernaturall, and haue contempla­tion.

[Page 107] 12. As for a rapt, it is a certaine eleua­tion by which the soul is exalted, by the spirit of God, to supernaturall things, with a kind of abstraction from the sen­ses; you must obserue heere, that a rapt doth include a violence which doth not consist in that the soul is carryed to­wards God, by reason, that is agreable to her nature, but because, she is with so great swiftnes carryed from the senses by that abstraction, yet the senses as is formerly said are not wholy lost, vnles it be when the rapt is in the height, but they are much altered by reason of that sud­den and violent abstraction of the soul from them, yet they doe well perceiue in that rapt (when the body is eleuated from the ground) that the body is in that height, which causeth great admira­tion in the soul, so that the rapts proper­ly doe not consist in the affectiue, but in the knowing powers. as when the vnder­standing with a kind of alienation from the senses, or with some intellectuall vi­sion, is eleuated, and suddenly, snatcht away, or the phantasy, or imaginatiue to some imaginary vision.

13. The reason why rapts cannot be in the will, is, that the will is a kind of pro­pension or inclination to that which is [Page 108] good, and the more forcibly or violently it is drawen, the more conformable it is to his, inclination; for that cannot be said, to suffer violence, which is moued according, to its naturall disposition; but the more forcibly it is moued towards its obiect, the more delightfully it wor­keth. So that the rapts (by reason they co­me with violence against the naturall disposition) cannot be in the will. yet the vehemency of the affection of the will, or sensitiue appetite, is often the cau­se of rapts, when the soul doth very for­cibly adhere to those things. which she doth affect, for by that force, she doth compell the knowing powers, to attend to the obiects, which she doth loue, as it were with a certaine violence drawing them from all other things. and the sen­sitiue appetite doth the same. therefore they that naturally haue vehement incli­nations or affections, must diuert their mynd, to some other thing, when they find their desyre inflamed, least they be deceiued, thinking that to be from God, which is from nature, or the deuil; for if it be from God, though the soul endea­uour to resist it, all will be in vaine; for it will take effect;

14. Note, that in this, a rapt doth differ [Page 109] from an extasy, that an extasy, is without violence, and therefore it is in the will, as is formerly said, for it is but a going out of it selfe, by loue, to what it doth affect; and a rapt is allwayes with violence. also the calling, or inward touch of God, and certaine abstractions by which his diui­ne Maiesty doth forcibly drawe the soul vnto himselfe as her Lord, are the cause of rapts; likewise by some light, or inward flame, also by some instillation of great sweetnes, into the sensitiue ap­petite, in like manner, by a kind of secret whistle, and many other vnknowen wa­yes, God doth efficaciously drawe the soul to himselfe, by which, he doth giue her notice that he is absolute Lord and creatour of all.

15. Moreouer, rapts doe produce other effects in the body, as its forces to faile, to wax cold, to fall into a kind of dead fit, to be eleuated from the earth, to hange in the ayre, to be very light and agill, as not hauing any weight. There are other rapts, which are not so forci­ble, and are imperfect, by which. the soul is not so drawen from the senses but she may speake some words, and giue out he­any sighs and grones, and somtymes the vehemency is such that they cast blood, [Page 110] and the body doth tremble and shake with strang fits, and they do leape, runne and crye out by reason of the excesse of inward ioy. this is that celestiall or diui­ne drunknes of which I spoake before. To conclude, loue is the prime and prin­cipall passion, by which a man is drawen to all his operations; therefore S. Augu­stine said, my loue is my poise or weight, and whither soeuer I am carryed, thither I am carryed, to wit, where his loue is. For all the rest of the passions doe follow loue, as for example. I desyre to haue a thing, not for any other cause, but that I loue it; I doe not reioyce, or delight my selfe, but in that which I loue; also I doe not hate a thing but because it is opposit, and contrary to what I loue; and therefo­re I doe flye and shim it. likewise I doe not hope or fight, but for what I loue, nor grieue, but for the euil which doth hinder me from what I loue, and so of the rest;

16. He therefore that intend's to ac­quire vertue, and the true loue of God, must heede carefully to what his loue doth tend, (whether to that which is truly good, and not apparent; or, to that which is according to the lawes of God, and not to the desyres of nature; or to [Page 111] that which is truly vertuous, and not vicious,) and if he find, that it is not right, with sweet persuasions, and solid reasons, let him allwayes endeauour to reduce it, to piety, and those things which are eternall; as if it be moued by the beauty of any creature; instantly, say, how farre more beautifull, and wor­thy of all loue he, is, who made that beau­ty, why then do'st not thou seeke after him who is eternall, rather then after this, which is to day, and gone to morrow. thy God is beauty it selfe, from whom all beauty is, he then is more worthy of thy loue, then this, which is, but a shadowe of what is loue worthy in him? O my sweet soul, loue not that which brings thee to hell, but what may bring thee to heauen, and endles ioy. See, that what thou can'st loue most on earth, will faile thee, and decay, being but momentary, but if thou do'st loue God, thy sweet and louing creatour, and redeemer, he will neuer faile thee, but bring, thee to enioy himselfe in endles glory. thus sweetly you must in all occasions labour to induce your soul to the loue of God, and those vertues which are contrary to your vicious inclination or loue.

17. Deere Christian soul I wrote this [Page 112] chapter for the better vnderstanding of what is in the second and third part of this booke, for there, it is said, that you must mortify your passions; how can you mortify what you doe not know; for though you feele the passion, yet you know not what it is, or whence it is; which being knowen, with more ease you may mortify it, and preuent its swel­ling rage. and so by degrees going from vertue to vertue, from meditation, to contemplation, from contemplation, to a true transformation in God, you shall enioy, the begining of true felicity in this life, and compleatly in the other, which I most humbly beseech God of his infinit goodnesse to bestow on thee and me. Amen.

This booke is endend, to the honour and glory of God, and the most Bles­sed V. Mary this 8. of September 1651. and if there be any thing in it, contrary to our Holy Faith, I doe most willingly submit both it, and my selfe to the censure of the Holy Catholick Roman Church.