C. THE ACT OF CONTEMPLATION

In one place St Bernard gives a definition of contemplation in general, as contrasted with consideration or meditation:
Contemplation is concerned with the certainty of things, con- sideration with their investigation. Accordingly contemplation may be defined as the soul's true and certain intuition of a thing, or as the unhesitating apprehension of truth. Consideration is thought earnestly directed to investigation, or the application of the mind searching for the truth [the modern 'meditation'] (de Consid. ii. 5, trans. G. Lewis) .
St Bernard recognizes very clearly the place and the use of meditation in the spiritual life (de Consid. passim, c Pourrat, op. cit. 52-7).
He distinguishes two kinds of contemplation of intellect and of heart:
There are two kinds of transport (excessus) in holy contempla- tion: the one in the intellect, the other in the heart (affectus); the one in light, the other in fervour; the one in discernment, the other in devotion (Cant. xlix. 4).
The Contemplation of the Heart
St Bernard dwells chiefly on the 'contemplation of the heart 9 , and it is in this that he principally places the mystic experience, or, as it is otherwise called, the state of passive union. A description of
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this contemplation has been given in the autobiographical passage already cited; another is given in the following:
(In the times of the Patriarchs) the manifestation of God was made from without, by appearances visible to the senses, or words heard by the ears. But there is still another manner in which God is discerned, differing from those, inasmuch as it is inward: when God deigns of His own accord to make Himself known to a soul that seeks for Him and lavishes on that seeking the entire love and ardour of its affections. And this is the sign of His coming thus to a soul, as we are taught by one who had experienced it: 'A fire will go before Him and burn up His enemies round about.*
For it is needful that in every soul in which He is about to appear such an ardour of sanctified longing should go before His Face as to consume every impurity of evil thoughts and works, and so to pre- pare a place for the Lord. And then the soul knows that the Lord is at handj when it feels itself consumed in that fire, and it says with the Prophet: 'From above hath He sent fire into my bones'; and again: 'My heart was hot within me, and while I was musing the fire burned forth.'
After a soul has been thus pressed by frequent aspirations towards God, or rather by continual prayer, and is afflicted by its longings, it is sometimes the case that He who is so earnestly desired and longed for, has pity on that soul and makes Himself manifest to it; and I think that, led by its own experience, it will be able to say with the prophet: e The Lord is good to them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him/
But be most careful not to allow yourself to think that we perceive anything corporeal or by way of images in this union (mingling, 'commixtio') of the Word with the soul. I am saying only that which the Apostle says, that he that is joined to God is one spirit'. I go on to express, in what words I am able, the transport (excessus) of a pure soul unto God, or the loving descent of God into the soul, com- paring spiritual things with spiritual. That union (conjunctio), then, is made in the spirit, because God is a spirit, and is moved with love for the beauty of that soul which He may have seen to be walking according to the Spirit, and to have no desire to fulfil the lusts of the flesh, especially as He knows that it is filled with ardent love for Himself. A soul in this condition, with such feelings and so beloved, will be far from content that the Bridegroom should manifest Him- self to her in the manner which is common to all, that is by the things which are made; or even in the manner peculiar to a few, namely, by dreams and visions; such a soul desires that by a special privilege He should descend from on high into her, and pervade her wholly in the deepest affections, and to the very ground of the heart. She desires that He whom she loves should not show Himself to her in an outward shape, but should be s as it were, inpoured into her; that He should not merely appear to her, but should enter into and
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possess her; nor is it doubtful that her happiness is so much the greater, as He is within rather than without (Cant. xxxi. 4-6) .
Throughout the Sermons on the Canticle such expressions abound as the following, describing the experiences of the soul in the mystic union; it is an inpouring of the Spirit (viii. 2); an inpouring of the sweetness of holy love (xxxii. 2); an inpoured savour of heavenly sweetness (xxxi. 7); a virtue which changes the heart, and a love which fires it (Ivii. 7); a wave of piety (ix. 7); a taste of the Presence of God (xxxi. 7) ; the soul is inwardly embraced (xxxii. 2) ; drawn into the secret of the Divinity (xlix. 4); set aglow with the love of God (Ivii. 7) ; sweetly refreshed with delicious love (1. 4) ; experiences joy ineffable (Ivii. u). Indeed there is hardly a page but supplies some such expression.
Like Augustine, Bernard speaks of the mystic union as a moment- ary foretaste of heaven. In the tractate de Gratia et liber o Arbitrio, after laying down that in this life, freedom of enjoyment (libertas com- placiti), that is, freedom from misery, is not attainable, he says:
But it is to be recognized that those who by transport (excessus) of contemplation are at times rapt in spirit, are able to taste some little fragment of the sweetness of supernal felicity ^ and as often are free from misery as they thus are carried away. These indeed, even in this flesh, though rarely and momentarily, experience the freedom of enjoyment (15).
And after describing the union he exclaims: *So, so is it in heaven, I do not doubt' (Cant. Hi. 2).
The Contemplation of the Intellect
Though St Bernard's emphasis is on the 'contemplation of the heart 9 , his * contemplation of the intellect' is of greater interest for the psychology and theology of mysticism. This is a sweet and familiar contemplation of things heavenly, intellectual (intelligi- bilia) and divine, in which are drunk with pleasure deep draughts of the hidden and sacred meanings of truth and wisdom 3 (Cant. xxxv. 2).
The following longer piece describes such contemplation:
When the Lord comes as a consuming fire and His Presence is understood in the power by which the soul is changed and in the love by which it is inflamed; when all stain of sin and rust of vices have been consumed in that fire, and the conscience has been purified and calmed, there ensues a certain sudden and unwonted enlargement of mind and an inpouring of light illuminating the
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intellect, either for knowledge of Scripture or comprehension of mysteries. But not through open doors, but through narrow aper- tures does that ray of so great brightness penetrate, so long as this sorry wall of the body subsists (Cant. ML 7,8).
The closing words remind us of St Gregory's chinks through which the ray of divine Light passes (above, p. 78).
The following passage Dom John Chapman comments on in the article 'Mysticism, Roman Catholic 9 , in Hastings's Dictionary of Religion and Ethics, as being 'perhaps the earliest account of the distinction between pure contemplation, in which reason as well as imagination remains in darkness, and nothing is understood by it, and revelation in which the pure intellectual conceptions are made comprehensible by means of the imagery or words which the niind habitually employs/ I adopt his translation:
'Pendants of gold and studs of silver*. This means, I think, nothing else than to weave certain spiritual likenesses, and to bring the most pure meanings of divine wisdom into the sight of the mind which is contemplating, in order that it may perceive, at least by a mirror and in an enigma, what it cannot at all as yet look upon face to face. What I speak of are things divine, and wholly unknown but to those who have experienced them, how, that is, in this mortal body, while yet the state of faith endures and the substance of the clear Light is not yet made manifest, the contemplation of pure truth can yet anticipate its action in us, at. least in part; so that some, even among us, to whom this has been granted from above, can employ the Apostle's words, 'Now I know in part', and again, *We know in part, and we prophesy in part.* For when something from God (divinitus) has momentarily and, as it were, with the swiftness of a flash of light, shed its ray upon the mind in ecstasy of spirit, whether for the tempering of this too great radiance, or for the sake of imparting it to others, forthwith there present themselves, whence I know not, certain imaginary likenesses of lower things, suited to the meanings which have been infused from above, by means of which that most pure and brilliant ray of truth is in a manner shaded, and becomes both more bearable to the soul itself, and more capable of being communicated to whomsoever the latter wishes. I think that these images are formed in us by the suggestions of the holy angels, as, on the contrary, evil ones without any doubt are 'inoculations (immissiones) by bad angels' (Psalm Ixxvii. 49). (Cant. xlL 3).
This theory as to the manner of translation or transliteration of the perception of spiritual realities in contemplation into phantas- mata capable of being expressed in language intelligible to others, is of much interest in its bearing on the attempts of the mystics, pre- eminently Ruysbroeck, to give utterance to their experiences.
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Bernard goes on in a difficult piece of much interest on the speculative side of the theory of mystical knowledge of God. I trans- late it quite literally:
And very likely in this way is fabricated, as by the hands of Angels, that mirror and enigma through which the Apostle saw, out of such pure and beauteous imaginations: in such wise that we both feel the Being of God 3 which is perceived as pure and without any phantasy of corporeal images; and we attribute to angelic ministra- tion whatever land of elegant similitude wherewith It appeared worthily clothed withal (Cant. xlL 4).
Here we seem to have expressed the common mystic claim of an experimental perception of God's Being, while the ideas under which It is apprehended are said to be supplied by the angels. This last is a piece of purely personal speculation, which did not find a place in the tradition of mystical teaching,
St Bernard likens contemplation to the sleep of the soul in the arms of God; but it is a deep sleep, alive and watchful, which en- lightens the inward senses 'magis istiusmodi vitalis vigilque sopor sensum interiorem illuminat* a sleep which dulls not the senses but ravishes them (ibid. lii. 2, 3). Here we are taught that St Bernard's contemplation is no 'quietism 3 : although images and sense percep- tions are eliminated and the faculties of the mind reduced to silence, the soul itself is full of light and operating with an intense activity.
Transiency
The transiency of contemplation, its short duration, the recoil of the soul after an act of contemplation, and the alternations of the presence and absence of the experience all well-known phenomena illustrated copiously in the writings of SS Augustine and Gregory are illustrated equally in those of St Bernard. Various such passages have already been cited; others occur in the later sections of this study. Here only two or three special pieces portraying Bernard's own experience will be given:
But there is a place where God is beheld as truly tranquil and in repose; it is, in fact, the place not of a judge, not of a teacher, but of a Bridegroom. I do not know how it may be with regard to others, but as far as concerns myself, that is for me a chamber into which entrance has sometimes been granted unto me. But alas! how rarely that has happened, and for how short a time it has lasted. It is there that is clearly recognized the rnercy of the Lord from, ever- lasting and to everlasting upon them that fear Him. ... Then have I felt on a sudden so great a joy and confidence arising in me, that
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... it seemed to me that I was one of those blessed ones. O that it had lasted longer. Again and again do Thou visit me, O Lord, with Thy salvation (Cant, xxiii. 15).
If any of us finds it good for him to draw, near to God, and is so filled with an earnest longing that he desires to be dissolved and to be with Christ; but desires it vehemently, thirsts for it ardently, and without ceasing dwells upon the thought of it: he shall, without doubt, receive the Word, and in no other form than that of the Bridegroom in the time of visitation; that is to say, in the hour when he shall feel himself inwardly embraced, as it were, by the arms of Wisdom, and shall receive an inpouring of the sweetness of divine Love. For the desire of his heart shall be granted him, though he is still in the body in a place of pilgrimage, and though only in part for a time, and that a short time. For when the Lord has been sought in watching and prayers, with strenuous effort, with showers of tears, He will at length present Himself to the soul; but suddenly, when He is thought to be held, He will glide away. Again He comes to the soul that follows after Him with tears; He allows Himself to be regained, but not to be retained, and anon He passes away, as out of its very hands. Yet if the devout soul shall persist in prayers and tears. He will at length return to it; He will not deprive it of the desire of its lips; but He will speedily disappear again, and will not be seen unless He be sought again with the whole desire of the heart. Thus, then, even in this body, the joy of the presence of the Bridegroom may frequently be felt; but not the fullness of His presence, because though His visitation renders the heart glad, the alternation of His absence affects it with sadness. And this the Beloved must of necessity endure [until the next life] (Cant, xxxii. 2).
In the book on c the Love of God' there is a passage reminding us of words of Gregory and Augustine:
Happy is he who hath deserved to reach unto the fourth degree of love, where man may love not even himself except for the sake of God. This love is a mountain, and the high mountain of God. When shall the mind experience affection like this, so that, ine- briated with divine love, forgetful of self, and become to its own self like a broken vessel, it may utterly pass over into God, and, ad- hering to God, become one spirit with Him? Blessed and holy should I call one to whom it has been granted to experience such a thing in this mortal life at rare, intervals, or even once, and this suddenly, and for the space of hardly a moment 1 For in a certain manner to lose thyself, as though thou wert not, and to be utterly unconscious of thyself, and to be emptied of thyself, and, as it were, brought to nothing, pertains to celestial conversation, not to human condition. And if, indeed^ any mortal is suddenly, now and then (as
1 'Raro interdum, aut vel semel, et hoc ipsum raptim, atque unius vix moment! spatio.*
I08 WESTERN MYSTICISM
has been said), and for a moment, admitted to this, straightway the wicked world envies, the evil of the day disturbs, the body of death becomes a burden, the necessity of flesh provokes, the defect of corruption does not endure, and, what is more insistent than these, fraternal charity recalls. Alas! he is compelled to return unto him- self, to fall back into his own, and miserably to exclaim: 'Unhappy man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' (de diligendo Deo,, 27; trans. Edm. Gardner). .
Similarly in another treatise:
In this life the happiness of contemplation is enjoyed only 'rarely and momentarily* (raro raptimque) ; contemplatives alone can ex- perience the freedom of enjoyment, 'but only in part and in small part, and on most rare occasions' (de Grat. et lib. Arbit. 15).
The language used in describing the highest intellectual con- templation is worth recalling:
When something from God has momentarily and with the swift- ness of a flash of light shed its ray upon the mind c cum divinitus aliquid raptim et veluti in velocitate corusci luminis interluxerit menti' (Cant. xli. 3).
Effects on the Soul
The lasting effects on the soul of the higher mystical experiences love, fervour, active zeal are sufficiently brought out in the various passages just cited, and need not be dwelt upon. It will suffice to adduce a single piece in illustration:
If any one obtains by prayer to be transported in mind to that secret place of God, he will anon return from it fired with most vehement love of God, inflamed with zeal for righteousness, and filled with extreme fervour in all spiritual desires and duties (Cant. xlix. 4).
But in St Bernard are adumbrated those difficult mystical con- ceptions of 'transformation* and 'deification 9 that obtained a well- recognized place in the later mystical theology of the West.
The idea of deification was familiar, indeed, to the Greek Fathers; it was a favourite one with Clement of Alexandria, 1 and with pseudo-Dionysius, as a result of mystical contemplation. I am not able to speak of its history in Latin Christianity. St Augustine uses the language, but apparently of the final consummation of redemp- tion in heaven. 2 Certainly we met no trace of it in his descriptions
1 The passages are collected by Mr Butterwortit in Journal of Theological Studies, Jan.^ 1916.
a *Ut totus homo deificatus inhaereat perpctuac et incommutabili veritati' (Serm. clxvi. 4).
ST BERNARD IOCJ
even of the highest mystical states; nor did we meet it in those of St Gregory. 1
In more than one passage St Bernard gives expression to the idea of transformation (Cant. xxv. 5, Ivii. n, Ixii. 5, Ixix, 7); but all these passages are based on St Paul, 2 Cor. iii. 18: 'We all, beholding the glory of the Lord with face unveiled, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.' In each case, however, the passage is applied to the result of mystical con- templation in this life, and gives a lead to the idea of mystical trans- formation as found in later mystics.
Of 'deification' I find in St Bernard only one instance, and that refers to the consummation in heaven:
It will sometime come about that, as God willed all things for Himself, so we too may will neither ourselves nor aught else to have been, or to be, save equally for His sake, for His will alone, not^our pleasure. ... O holy and chaste love! O sweet and tender affection! O pure and perfect intention of the will! surely so much more per- fect and pure as there is in it now nothing mixed of its own; the more sweet and tender as all is divine that is felt. To be thus affected is to be deified (sic affici, deificari est). As a drop of water mingled in wine is seen to pass away utterly from itself, while it takes on the taste and colour of the wine, as a kindled and glowing iron becomes most like the fire, having put off its former and natural form; and as the air, when flooded with the light of the sun, is transformed into the same clarity of light, so that it seems to be not merely illumined, but the light itself: so it will needs be that all human affection in the Saints will then, in some ineffable way, melt from itself and be entirely poured over into the will of God. Otherwise how will God be all in all, if in man somewhat remains over of man? (de diligendo Deo, 28: the following sections, 29-33, contain one of the finest and most convincing of the attempts to depict the joys of the life eternal).
It was, no doubt, owing to the popularization of the Latin trans- lation of pseudo-Dionysius that 'deification' came into vogue just after St Bernard in the West, as it always has been in the East, as a manner of describing the experiences of mystical contemplation and union in this life. St Bernard's similes in the above piece, of the drop of water, the iron, and the air, were also freely used to describe the union of the soul with God in this life, as in the next (Ruysbroeck, St John of the Cross, and Blosius in the piece cited above, p. 9), but on the part of the Catholic mystics always with a proviso against any kind of pantheistic absorption of the soul in the Deity.
i On deification see App. G of Dean Inge's Christian Mystidm, and the Index, under 'Deification 5 and 'Transmutation,' to Evelyn UnderHFs Mysticism.
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Those familiar with the literature of mysticism know the con- siderable place held in it by the imagery of 'spiritual marriage* as an allegory of the relationship between God and the soul in the highest kinds of mystical contemplation. This imagery is not found in St Augustine or St Gregory; but it is found fully developed in St Bernard. It calls for treatment in a separate section, and to it will be devoted D, there being no possibility in St Bernard's case of the discussion instituted under that heading on St Augustine viz. whether his contemplation was religious or only intellectual.
D, SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE: UNION
The idea that Jesus Christ or the Divine Word is the Bridegroom, and the devout soul the Bride of the Canticle goes back to Origen, and became acclimatized in the West by the translations of his Commentary on the Canticle made by Jerome and Rufinus. It is found not infrequently in Augustine, 1 and at least once in Gregory; 2 but the idea is not emphasized or elaborated 3 as by Bernard. That consecrated virgins are the 'spouses of Christ' is a very early Christian conception, found, equivalently, in Cyprian (Ep. 4). Though a natural step, it is a step forward in allegory to look on the union of the soul with God in contemplation as a spiritual marriage, and to develop the imagery implied therein. The first, I believe, to give utterance to the realities of the mystical experience in terms of a sublimated human love was the austerely intellectual Plotinus., so little is such imagery in itself liable to suspicion of erotic sensuousness. 3
Mystical writers in the West from the time of St Bernard onwards use the imagery of the 'spiritual marriage 3 freely, and as a matter of course. I do not know that it was so definitely used by any writer before him.. It is found, however, and in an accentuated form, in his younger contemporary, Richard of St Victor (died c. 1173), de qwtuor Gradibus molentae Caritatis (Migne, Patr* Lat. cxcvi). It passed into the common stock of mystical writers in later times, notably B. John Ruysbroeck, St John of the Cross, St Teresa. 4
The idea of the marriage is announced by Bernard from the first
1 See Index to his works, under *Sponsa/ 'Sponsus*.
2 Horn, in Ezeck. n. iii. 8; it is frequent in the spurious or doubtful Comm. in Cant, Solom.
*Ewwad, vi. ix. 9; translated in Taylor's Select Works of PMnus, ed. IQIA, pp. 316-19, and Inge's Philosophy of Plotmus, ii. 139.
4 See App. D of Inge's Christian Mysticism, Eales's Introduction to the Sermons on the Canticle, and especially Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism, pp. 162 ff., 500 ff. (and see Index). ^
ST BERNARD III
sermon: The Canticle is a nuptial song, the chaste and joyous em- braces of minds (u). Elsewhere he says:
I cannot contain myself for joy that the Divine Majesty disdains not to stoop to a familiar and sweet companionship with our lowli- ness, nor the supernal Godhead to enter into a marriage (inire connubia) with a soul still in exile, and despises not to show it the affection of a bridegroom possessed of a most ardent love (Cant. Hi. 2).
Again: When the beloved soul shall have been perfected, the Bridegroom will make with her a spiritual marriage (spirituale coniugium) and they shall be two, not in one flesh, but in one spirit, according to the saying of the Apostle: 'He that is joined unto God is one spirit' (Cant. bd. i.).
In the last five or six sermons on the Canticle, preached shortly before his death, St Bernard surpasses himself in the sublimity of his thought, in the fervour of his devotion, and in the eloquence of his language. The following is the passage in which he depicts the glory of the spiritual marriage: 1
The return of the soul is its conversion, that is, its turning to the Word; to be reformed by Him and to be rendered conformable to Him. In what respect? In charity. It is that conformity which makes, as it were, a marriage between the soul and the Word, when, being already like unto Him by its nature, it endeavours to show itself like unto Him by its will, and loves Him as it is loved by Him. And if this love is perfected, the soul is wedded to the Word. What can be more full of happiness and joy than this conformity? What more to be desired than this love, which makes thee, O soul, no longer content with human guidance, to draw near with confidence thy- self to the Word, to attach thyself with constancy to Him, to address Him familiarly and consult Him upon all subjects, to become as receptive in thy intelligence as fearless in thy desires? This is the contract of a marriage truly spiritual and sacred. And to say this is to say little; it is more than a contract, it is embracement (com- plexus). Embracement surely, in which perfect correspondence of wills makes of two one spirit. Nor is it to be feared that the inequality of the two who are parties to it should render imperfect or halting in any respect this concurrence of wills; for love knows not reverence. Love receives its name from loving, not from honouring. Let one who is struck with dread, with astonishment, with fear, with ad- miration, rest satisfied with honouring; but all these feelings are absent in him who loves. Love is filled with itself, and where love has come it overcomes and transforms all other feelings. Wherefore the soul that loves, loves, and knows nought else. He who justly deserves to be honoured, justly deserves to be admired and wondered
1 Eales's translation inclines to tone down the language; of set purpose St Bernard is here allowed to say what he says.
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at; yet He loves rather to be loved. They are Bridegroom and Bride. What other bond or constraining force do you seek for between spouses than to be loved and to love? ... God says: If I be Father, where is My honour? He says that as a Father. But if He declares Himself to be a Bridegroom, will He not change the word and say: If I be Bridegroom, where is My love? For He had previously said: If I be Lord, where is My fear? God, then, requires that He should be feared as Lord, honoured as Father, but as Bridegroom loved. Which of these three is highest and most to be preferred? Surely it is love. Without it fear is painful and honour without attraction. . . . Neither of these will He receive if it be not seasoned with the honey of love. Love is sufficient by itself, it pleases by itself, and for its own sake. It is Itself a merit, and itself its own recompense. Love seeks neither cause nor fruit beyond itself. Its fruit is its use. I love because I love; I love that I may love. Love, then, is a great reality. It is the only one of all the movements, feelings, and affections of the soul in which the creature is able to respond to its Creator, though not upon equal terms, and to repay like with like. For example, if God is wroth with me, may I similarly be wroth with Him? Certainly not, but I shall fear and tremble and implore pardon. ... But how different is it with love! For when God loves, He desires nought else than to be loved, because He loves us for no other purpose than that He may be loved, knowing that those who love Him become blessed by their love itself. ... Love that is pure is not mercenary; it does not draw strength from hope, nor is it weakened by distrust. This is the love of the Bride, because all that she is is only love. The very being of the Bride and her only hope is love. In this the Bride abounds; with this the Bridegroom is content. He seeks for nothing else; she has nothing else. Thence it is that He is Bridegroom and she is Bride. This belongs exclusively to a wedded pair, and to it none other attains, not even a son. The Bridegroom's love, or rather the Bridegroom who is Love, requires only love in return and faithful- ness. Let it then be permitted to the Bride beloved to love in return. How could the Bride not love, she who is the Bride of Love? How could Love not be loved?
Rightly then does she renounce all other affections, and devote her whole self to Him alone Who is Love, because she can make a return to Him by a love which is reciprocal. For even when she has poured her whole self forth in love, what would that be in com- parison to the ever-flowing flood of that Fountain? Not with equal fullness flows the stream of love from the soul and the Word, the Bride and the Bridegroom, the creature and the Creator. What then? Shall the desire of her who is espoused perish and become of none effect, because she is unable to contend with a Giant who runs His course, to dispute the palm of sweetness with honey, of gentle- ness with the lamb, of brilliance with the sun, of love with Him Who is Love? No. For although, being a creature, she love less, because she is less; nevertheless if she loves with her whole self, nothing is wanting where all is given. Wherefore, as I have said, to love thus
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is to be wedded (nupsisse) ; because it is not possible to love thus and yet not to be greatly loved, and in the consent of the two parties consists a full and perfect marriage (connubiurn) . Can any one doubt that the soul is first loved, by the Word, and more dearly? Assuredly it is both anticipated in loving and surpassed. Happy the soul whose favoured lot it is to be prevented with the benediction of a delight so great. Happy the soul to which is granted to experience the em- bracement (complexus) of such sweetness, which is nought else than a love holy and chaste; a love sweet and delightful; a love as serene as it is sincere; a love mutual, intimate, powerful, which not in one flesh, but in one spirit joins together two, and makes them no more two, but one, according to St Paul: He that is joined to God is one spirit' (Cant. IxxxiiL, the whole sermon compressed).
Let whoso will, see in this fine piece any note of sensuousness or of selfish enjoyment of spiritual delights. No less fine is the following passage, wherein the idea of the spiritual marriage is carried on to that of spiritual fecundity:
When you shall see a soul which, having left all, cleaves unto the Word with every thought and desire, lives only for the Word, rules itself according to the Word, nay, becomes, as it were, fruitful by the Word; which is able to say, c To me to live is Christ and to die is gain;' then you may have much assurance that this soul is a Bride, wedded to the Word. ... Assuredly the soul of the Apostle Paul was, as it were, a faithful spouse and a tender mother, as was shown by his words: c My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you.'
But notice that in this spiritual matrimony there are two ways of travailing in birth, with different offspring, though not contrary; since saintly souls, as holy mothers, either bring forth souls by preaching, or by meditation develop spiritual intellections (intelli- gentias). 1 In the latter kind of travail it sometimes happens that the soul is so transported out of itself and detached from the senses, that, though conscious of the Word, it has no consciousness of itself. This is the case when the mind is drawn on by the ineffable sweetness of the Word, and, as it were, is stolen from itself; or, rather, it is rapt and abides out of itself to enjoy the Word. The mind is affected in one way when it is rendered fruitful by the Word, and in another when it enjoys the presence of the Word. In the one, necessity of its neighbour importunes it, in the other the sweetness of the Word entices it. And, indeed, a mother has joy in her offspring; but a bride has greater joy in the embraces of her spouse. Dear are children, the pledges of affection; but kisses give greater joy. It is a good work to save many souls; but to be transported and to be with the Word, that is far more delightful. But when does that happen to us, or how long does it endure? Sweet is that intercourse; but how seldom does it occur, and for how brief a time does it last. And this 1 The Latin of the following passage is given below (p. 117).
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is the final reason for which the soul seeks the Word; namely, that it may find delight through enjoying Him.
What is it to enjoy the Word? I reply: Let that be asked rather from him who has had the experience. Even though it were given to me to have that experience, how can you think it possible that I should explain that which is incapable of being put into words? ... It has been permitted to me to have had that experience; it is not at all permitted to me to express it in speech. And in the reference which I have just now made to it, I adapt my words, so as to speak as you are able to receive what I say. O thou who art full of curiosity to know what it is to enjoy the Word, prepare thy mind for that, not thy ear. The tongue cannot teach it, it is taught only by grace. It is hidden from the wise and prudent, and it is revealed to babes. Humility, my brethren, is a great and lofty virtue, by which that which is not taught is merited; which is worthy to attain what is beyond the province of teaching; worthy of the Word, and by the Word to conceive that which it is not itself capable of expressing in words. Why is this? Not because of any merit of its own, but because such is the good pleasure of Him Who is the Father of the Word, the Bridegroom, of the soul, Jesus Christ our Lord, Who is above all, God blessed for ever (Cant. Ixxxv. 152-14).
These were almost the dying words of Bernard, for the next sermon, the last, remains half finished, cut short by death. It seems as though, at the end, he was inspired to lift the veil and disclose the most secret intimacies of his soul with God.
As such efforts of the mystics to describe their experiences are often attended by some danger of seemingly pantheistic language, it will be well to conclude this section with selections from a passage wherein St Bernard guards himself against any misconception as to a pantheistic absorption or identification of the soul in God. The whole second half of Sermon Ixxi. (5-10) deals with this subject; only a few sentences are extracted:
'He who is joined to God is one spirit. 3 The union between God and man is not a unity, at least if compared with the unique and sovereign unity of Father and Son. For how can there be unity where there is plurality of natures and difference of substances? The union of God and man is brought about not by confusion of natures, but by agreement of wills. Man and God, because they are not of one substance or nature, cannot be called 'one thing 5 ( c unum 5 , like Father and Son); but they are with strict truth called 'one spirit 5 , if they adhere to one another by the glue of love. But this unity is effected not by coherence of essences, but by concurrence of wills. God and man, because they exist and are separate with their own wills and substances, abide in one another not blended in substance but consentaneous in will.
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E. PSYCHO-PHYSICAL CONCOMITANTS
In pursuance of the method followed in regard to SS Augustine and Gregory, we have now to examine the evidence afforded by St Bernard's writings as to psycho-physical concomitants of prayer and contemplation. The evidence of his writings will in the first place be collected and co-ordinated.
Evidence in regard to ecstasy^ rapture^ and bodily phenomena
Of the words that may suggest such conditions, the most usual with St Bernard is 'excessus', departure or transport, or the verb *mente excedere 5 . This is taken from St Paul: 'Sive mente exce- dimus, Deo; sive sobrii sumus, vobis' (2 Cor. v. 13). The Doway Bible translates: 'Whether we are transported in mind 5 ; the Revised Version: c are beside ourselves'. It would be beyond our scope to examine the Scriptural use of 'excessus' ; but in the text the meaning is not anything of the nature of full religious ecstasy. Bernard uses also the word 'ecstasy 5 , but not so frequently; also 'flight 5 (volatus, avolare); and occasionally 'stupor', 'sleep',, and even 'death'. Naturally Vapere', 'rapi 3 , to be caught up, or ravished, are of frequent occurrence, but I have not found the noun 'raptus'.
The meaning to be attached to these various terms must now be determined by the citation of passages illustrating their use.
It will be the most satisfactory course to take, in the first place, a series of pieces from a continuous passage of some length wherein the language may seem suggestive of the physical phenomena of rapture. The translation is quite literal:
I may then, without any absurdity, call the ecstasy (ecstasis) of the Bride a death, but one which delivers her not from life, but from the snares of life. For in this life we proceed in the midst of snares; which, however, are not feared as often as the soul, by some holy and vehement thought, is carried away out of itself (a semetipsa abrijpitur), provided that it so far departs in mind and flies away (mente secedat et avolet), that it transcends its usual way of thought. For how should impurity be feared, where there is no consciousness of life? For when the soul is transported (excedente anima), though not from life, yet from consciousness of life, the temptations of life cannot be felt. It is a good death which does not take away life, but changes it into something better, by which the body does not fall, but the soul is elevated.
This is a death which is the lot of men. But may my soul die the death also, if I may so speak, of the angels; that, departing from the memory of things present, it may divest itself not only of the desires
Il6 WESTERN MYSTICISM
but of the images of things below and corporeal, and may have pure commerce with those with whom is the image of purity. Such transport (excessus) alone, or in the highest degree, is named con- templation. For while alive not to be held by the desires of things is the part of human virtue; but in the processes of thought (specu- lando), not to be enveloped by the images of bodies is the part of angelic purity. But both are by divine gift, both are 'to be trans- ported', both are to transcend yourself; but one a long way, the other not long. You have not yet gone a long way unless you are able by purity of mind to fly over (transvolare) the phantasmata of corporeal images that rush in from all sides. Unless you have attained to this, 1 do not promise yourself rest. You are mistaken if you think that short of this 1 you find a place of quiet, secret solitude, serene light, a dwelling of peace. But show me him who has arrived thither, and I will straightway confess that he is enjoying rest (quiescentem) . This place is truly in solitude, this dwelling is in the light. Suppose, therefore that the Bride has withdrawn into this solitude, and there through the delightfulness of the place has sweetly gone to sleep in the embrace of the Bridegroom, that is to say, has been transported in spirit [as in an ecstasy]. ... As often as the Bride is transported (excedit) in contemplation, so often is she associated with the august company of the blessed spirits (Cant. Hi. 4-6).
The foregoing passage is typical for our purpose, employing freely the words under consideration: ecstasis, excessus, mente excedere, abripere, avolare, transvolare, transcendere. It is patent, too, that the elevations in question are of the highest order, even ecstasy. Yet the phenomena depicted appear to be purely mental; there seems no reason for supposing any physical conditions to be contemplated.
A few short pieces will be added in further illustration, those being chosen which seem most suggestive of a physical side. It will appear that c rapere' and Vapi' do not carry the meaning of physical rapture.
If ever it befall one to be rapt by transport to the contemplation of God's majesty, that is the Finger of God, not the temerity of man (Cant. Ixii. 4).
^ Purity carries us off (rapit) to contemplation, whereby we are lifted up to things invisible (de Grad. Hum. 19).
The perfect soul desires to be rapt by contemplation to the chaste embraces of her Spouse (Serm. de div. Ixxxvii. 2) .
If it have ever befallen one of you at any time to be so rapt and so
1 Hucusque ... citra. Bales translates 'citra', *on this side of your earthly exist- ence/ as meaning that the 'place of quiet* cannot be attained to in this life. But what follows shows that St Bernard considered it is attained in contemplation, albeit momentarily, not permanently.
ST BERNARD IIJ
hidden in the secret sanctuary of God, as not to be called away or disturbed by the needs of the senses, or by the sting of some care, or the pang of some sin, or, what is with greater difficulty kept off, the inrushing phantasmata of bodily images; such an one, when he comes back to us, will be able to glory and to say: 'The King hath brought me into his bed-chamber' (Cant, xxiii. 16).
In the following, the word 'stupor 5 is used:
The delight of contemplation is likened to the feeling of rest 'in the sleep of a most sweet stupor and tranquil admiration 3 (ibid, xxiii. n).
Contemplation 'sometimes for brief intervals holds the admiring soul aloft in stupor and ecstasy' (de Consid. v. 32).
Finally, 1 there is the piece already cited from Canticle Ixxxv. 13; the English will be found on p. 113; the Latin is given here:
(In contemplatione) interdum exceditur et seceditur etiam a corporeis sensibus, ut sese non sentiat quae Verbum sentit. Hoc fit cum mens ineffabili Verbi illecta dulcedine, quodam modo se sibi furatur, imo rapitur atque elabitur a seipsa, ut Verbo fruatur.
This passage by itself would suggest phenomena akin to trance; but there is nothing in it that need mean more than a profound absorption of mind such as may take place without any fainting away of the body; and it is sound critical method to interpret this ambiguous passage by the general tenor of St Bernard's utterances, which, as we have seen, point to the conclusion that the experiences he speaks of were not accompanied by any such psycho-physical concomitants. This stands out with conspicuous clearness in the long autobiographical relation of his own experiences, cited in B (p. 101), in which there is no suggestion of, or room for, any bodily phenomena.
Evidence in regard to visions, locutions, revelations, &c.
In the autobiographical piece just referred to, spoken near the close of his life, St Bernard says, as plainly as man could say it, that never in his contemplations or mystical elevations of soul had he perceived any vision, audition, locution, revelation, or anything in any way perceptible to the senses or imagination. Compare the piece cited at p. 104 from Canticle xxxi.
It is true that the Lives do speak of certain visions and communi- cations; but they are different in character from the visions and revelations that play so great a part in the lives of many more recent
Il8 WESTERN MYSTICISM
mystics. Some of the visions appear to have occurred in sleep, and the communications for the most part were psychic rather than properly mystic; nor did they enter into Bernard's mystic experi- ences. Thus the Lives are not counter to his own testimony, that visions and locutions were not a feature of his personal spiritual life.
St Bernard is conspicuous for his loving devotion to the Humanity of our Lord and to His Passion. The following beautiful passage is well known:
To meditate on (the life and sufferings of Jesus Christ) I have called wisdom; in these I have placed the perfection of righteousness for me, the fullness of knowledge, the abundance of merits, the riches of salvation. There is among them for me sometimes a draught of salutary bitterness, sometimes, again, a sweet unction of consola- tion. In adversities they raise me up, and in prosperity repress my exuberant delight. ... It is for these reasons that I have them frequently in my mouth, as you know, and always in my heart, as God knoweth. . . , In a word, my philosophy is this, and it is the loftiest in the world, to know Jesus and Him crucified (Cant, xliii. 4).
On the matter of pictorial meditation on the Sacred Humanity St Bernard discourses in Sermon xx. on the Canticle. Many of the Sermons de Tempore are devoted to stirring up a tender love of Our Lord's Humanity, by pictures of Him in His Infancy, Life, and Passion, directly appealing to the imagination and emotions of the hearers, and drawn with all the depth of feeling and picturesqueness of language that Bernard could command so well. And yet of this love of the Sacred Humanity he writes as follows:
The love of the heart is in a certain sense carnal, in that it chiefly moves the heart of man towards the flesh of Christ and what Christ in the flesh did and said. The sacred image of the God-Man, either being born or suckled or teaching or dying or rising again, is present to one in prayer, and must needs stir up the soul to the love of virtue. But although such devotion to the flesh of Christ is a gift, and a great gift, of the Holy Ghost, nevertheless I call it carnal in comparison with that love which does not so much regard the Word which is Flesh, as the Word which is Wisdom, which is Justice, which is Truth, which is Holiness (Cant. xx. 6, 8).
He goes on to show how love of Christ, at first carnal or sensible, progresses when it becomes rational love, and is perfected when it becomes spiritual love, in which the images of the Sacred Humanity no longer form part. And so when he comes to speak of the vision of Christ in contemplation, he expresses himself as follows:
In this knowing of Jesus and Him crucified, while abiding in His
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wounds, and contemplating gladly the things which relate to Him, Incarnate and In His Passion ... I do not suppose that in this vision there is presented to the senses any images of His Flesh or of His Cross, or any other kinds of likenesses of our weak flesh; for in these respects c He hath no form nor comeliness. 5 But that the soul behold- ing Him now pronounces Him fair and comely, shows He appeared to her by means of a nobler vision ... a vision certainly sublime and sweet (Cant. xlv. 4, 6).
This shows that in his contemplations there was no framing of pictures of the scenes of the Passion, nor any portrait presented to the mind of Our Lord's human form. It is the same in regard to the intercourse between Him and the soul:
As often as you hear or read that the Word and the soul converse together or behold each other, do not imagine that so to say bodily words pass between them, or that bodily images of those conversing are seen. Think rather that the Word is a spirit and the soul is a spirit, and they have tongues of their own by which they speak to one another and indicate their presence. The tongue of the Word is the favour of His condescension, and the tongue of the soul is her fervour (ibid. 7).
And elsewhere:
When with eager mind we ponder His testimonies and the judge- ments of His Mouth, and meditate on His law day and night, we should know for certain that the Bridegroom is present and is speak- ing to us, that we may not be wearied by our labours, being rejoiced by His words (Cant, xxxii. 4).
[In the union of the soul with God] the Word utters no sound, but penetrates; It is not full of words, but full of power; It strikes not on the ears, but caresses the heart; the form of its Face is not defined, and it does not touch the eyes of the body, but it makes glad the heart, not with charm of colour, but with the love it bestows (ibid. xxxL 6).
F. THE VISION OF GOD
This subject need not detain us long. St Bernard betrays no know- ledge of St Augustine's speculations concerning the vision of God accorded to Moses and St Paul. The subject is alluded to principally in Canticle xxxi. all, xxxii. 9, xxxiii. 6, xxxiv. i . His doctrine is quite categorical that God's Being cannot be seen as It is by man in this life:
God now appears as He wishes, not as He is. No wise man, no saint, no prophet, is able to see Him as He is, nor has been able in this mortal body (Cant. xxxi. 2) .
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Again:
I would not say that He appears as He is, although He does not manifest Himself as something altogether other than that which He is (ibid. xxxi. 7).
The knowledge of God in contemplation is thus characterized:
The soul slumbering in contemplation dreams God; for through a mirror and in an enigma, and not face to face, does it behold Him; and it warms with the love of something conjectured rather than'seen, momentarily, as if in the flash of a passing spark, and touched scantily and barely idque raptim, et quasi sub quodam ^coruscamine scintillulae transeuntis, tenuiter vix attacti' (Cant, xviii. 6).
Concerning Moses's vision, this is what St Bernard says:
In olden time holy Moses, presuming greatly on the favour and familiarity that he had found with God, aspired to a certain great vision, so as to say to God: If I have found favour in Thine Eyes, show me Thyself. But he received instead of this a vision of much lower order, from which, however, he might be able at some time to come to that one which he desired (ibid, xxxiv, i).
In contrast with this the terms used in speaking of St Benedict's vision come as a surprise:
[In the next life] the earthly creature, like the heavenly creature, no longer through a mirror and in an enigma, but face to face will see God, and His Wisdom will be contemplated with clearness in itself. Meantime the human mind has need of some kind of vehicle of a creature that it may mount up to the knowledge of the Creator,* whereas the angelic nature has far more blessedly and perfectly its knowledge of the creature in the Creator. To this excellence, though only for a moment (or partially, *ad modicum'), seems to have been rapt that blessed soul, which saw the whole world collected under one ray of the sun. Of this miracle St Gregory says: To him who sees the Creator, all creation is small (Serm. de div. ix. i).
CONTEMPLATION 4. SUMMARY
SUMMARY : CHARACTERISTICS OF WESTERN MYSTICISM
WE are now in a position to understand the title of this book, Western Mysticism, which is taken as being something different from, as being a particular phase of mysticism in the West. This latter would be a much wider* and more difficult subject. The charac- teristic features of what is here taken as Western Mysticism, and which seem to differentiate it from other types of mysticism, will now be unfolded.
(i) Those familiar with the writings of later mystics will know how they delight to describe the highest mystic states in the terms of darkness and obscurity; of knowing God by ignorance and unknowing; of being plunged in the solitude of the Godhead or in the viewless abyss of the divine Nature. Such expressions occur in the extracts given in the Prologue and they might be multiplied indefinitely. The writer in the Nation, referred to in the Preface, puts the case thus:
The mystics heap up terms of negation darkness, void, nothing- ness in endeavouring to describe that Absolute which they have apprehended. It may be, of course, that their apprehension had such a fullness and richness of content that in human language it could only be described negatively. But one may, at least, point out that their method is the very opposite of the characteristically Christian one of affirmation; that where they say, 'darkness* St John says 'light', and that St John says Tulness* where they say Void': and St Paul stresses, not ignorance, but enhanced knowledge, as the result of religious experience.
Now it will be felt that our three Western Doctors whose teaching on contemplation has just been exposed, do not lie open to this objection: for them contemplation is a revelation of light and know- ledge and fullness; what religious experience could be fuller and richer than the Spiritual marriage' as depicted by St Bernard? We did, indeed, meet in St Gregory (above, p. 88) the idea that the knowledge of God by contemplation in this life is as seeing the sun through a cloud or mist 'clouds of darkness are round about Him* (Ps. xcvL 2) ; but this idea is quite different from the divine Dark of the later mysticism: though the light be seen as through a chink or
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through a mist, for St Gregory it is light that is perceived in con- templation 5 not darkness.
The reason for the change which in this matter came over the spirit of mysticism in Western Europe is not far to seek: it may be found in the pieces from the writings of pseudo-Dionysius cited at the head of the extracts in the Prologue (p. 6). The writings of this mysterious personage now recognized as a Christian neo-Platonist, probably Syrian, of the early sixth century, especially indebted to the neo-Platonist Proclus, 1 were translated into Latin in the ninth century by John Scotus Erigena. They seem, however, not to have come into general vogue until the twelfth century. Certain of the treaties were commented on by Hugh of St Victor and the great schoolmen, including St Thomas, who knew them thoroughly and used them freely as among his principal authorities, as did the other scholastic doctors. Thus the doctrine of pseudo-Dionysius entered fully into the intellectual tradition of the West from the twelfth century onwards. His emphasis is laid strongly on the idea of the transcendence of God, and he pushes to its extreme limit the 'negative way' in attaining to knowledge of God.
The all-pervading influence of his theological conceptions is very apparent in the German Dominican mystics of the fourteenth century, Eckhart, Tauler, Suso, and in the Flemish Canon Regular, Ruysbroeck; it is very apparent also in the Carmelite St John of the Cross and the Benedictines Abbot Blosius and Fr Augustine Baker. In fact in the West, from the twelfth century onwards until modern times, the thoughts of the mystics about their own experiences in contemplation have been coloured by the philosophical and theo- logical theories of Dionysius, and their language has been moulded in his categories.
St Augustine was prior to pseudo-Dionysius. St Gregory in one place refers to the Celestial Hierarchy as authority on a point con- cerning the angels; 2 but there is no trace in his utterances on con- templation and mystical theology of any influence of the theories or language of pseudo-Dionysius; indeed his fundamental conception of the process of contemplation is diametrically opposite. For *Dionysius s the soul in contemplation is borne up to the ray of the divine Darkness; for Gregory it endeavours to fix its gaze on the ray of the unencompassed Light. Nor do I discern any trace of the influence of pseudo-Dionysius in St Bernard.
1 See the tractate of Fr J. Stiglmair, SJ., Die Pseudo-Dionysische Schriften, 1895.
2 Horn, in Evang. xxxiv. 12. It is obscure how St Gregory came by his knowledge of this passage, because, in spite of his sojourn in Constantinople, he could not read Greek. But the manner of citation seems to indicate that his knowledge was by hearsay rather than first-hand; Tertur Dionysius Areopagita, antiquus videlicet et venerabilis pater, dicere.'
CHARACTERISTICS 125
The first characteristic, therefore, marking off the mystical theo- logy of SS Augustine, Gregory, and Bernard from that which came in just after St Bernard's time, and has held sway ever since in the West, is that it is e pre-Dionysian', untouched by the ideas and nom- enclature of the religious philosophy made current by the diffusion of the Dionysiac writings in Latin in the twelfth century.
(2) Another characteristic of the mystical theology of our three Doctors is that it is c pre-scholastic 5 . They discourse of contemplation as occasion arises, but make no attempt at any systematic presenta- tion of their teaching in the form of a scientific treatise of mystical theology. But this was being done by St Bernard's contemporaries, Hugh and Richard of St Victor. The latter especially produced treatises wherein it is sought to reduce the theory and practice of contemplation to a science in the approved scholastic manner then coming into fashion.
Moreover, a speculative and philosophical treatment of the sub- ject, according to the principles of the Platonic or Aristotelian philosophies, was introduced, and this process was carried forward by the great scholastics, so that mystical theology tended more and more to become a science of contemplation rather than contempla- tion itself, an intellectual system rather than a religious experience. The difference between this manner of treatment, and that which we have found in St Bernard and St Gregory, and St Augustine too, is very apparent. In them there is no philosophizing about con- templation, no thought of systematizing or schematization. All they aim at doing is to describe as best they can the personal experiences of their soul.
The features so far mentioned are recognized by Abbe Pourrat in regard to St Bernard, and what he says of him is equally applicable to St Gregory:
The mysticism of St Bernard does not present itself as a synthesis; it is exposed in an oratorical manner. It has no scientific character; it is essentially practical. Contrary to that of St Augustine and of pseudo-Dionysius, the neo-Platonic theories are wholly strangers to it, and equally so is scholastic philosophy. He speaks of mystic facts according to his own personal experience and that of the^monks whose confidences he had received (La Spiritualite Chretienne, ii. 98).
Here is noted a difference between St Bernard (and St Gregory) on the one hand, and St Augustine on the other, in that the mystic- ism of the latter is expressed in the terms of his neo-Platonism.
(3) A third characteristic. In 1910 was published by Pere Poulain, S.J., a book entitled Journal spirituel de Lucie Christine (English,
126 WESTERN MYSTICISM
1915). It is a selection from the diary of a devout French lady, kept by request of her confessor, wherein she recorded her religious experiences and the principal facts of her spiritual life from 1870, shortly after her marriage., until her death In 1908. It is a record of divine favours of all kinds, often almost from day to day: of words spoken in her soul by God, or by Jesus Christ, often at Communion; of visions, pictorial or intellectual; of communications and im- pressions of religious truths, and perceptions of things divine. This