Part 9 (1/2)
”Be very sure too that every one has experienced the troubles which distress you; above all, believe that we do not walk blindfold, that Mysticism is an absolutely exact science. It can foretell the greater part of the phenomena which occur in that soul which the Lord intends for a perfect life; it follows also spiritual operations with the same clearness as physiology observes the different states of the body. For ages and ages it has disclosed the progress of grace and its effects, now impetuous and now slow; it has even pointed out the modifications of material organs which are transformed when the soul entirely loses itself in G.o.d.
”Saint Denys the Areopagite, Saint Bonaventure, Hugh and Richard of Saint Victor, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint Bernard, Ruysbrock, Angela of Foligno, the two Eckharts, Tauler, Suso, Denys the Carthusian, Saint Hildegarde, Saint Catherine of Genoa, Saint Catherine of Siena, Saint Magdalen of Pazzi, Saint Gertrude, and others have set forth in a masterly way the principles and theories of Mysticism, and it has found at last an admirable psychologist to sum up its rules and their exceptions; a Saint who has verified in her own person the supernatural phases she has described--a woman whose lucidity was more than human--Saint Teresa. You have read her life, and her 'Castles of the Soul'!”
Durtal nodded a.s.sent.
”Then you have your information; you ought to know that before reaching the sh.o.r.es of Blessedness, before arriving at the fifth dwelling of the interior castle, at that prayer of union wherein the soul is awakened in regard to G.o.d, and completely asleep to all things of earth and to herself, she must pa.s.s through lamentable states of dryness, and the most painful strainings. Take heart therefore; say to yourself that this dryness should be a source of humility, and not a cause of disquietude; do, in fact, as Saint Teresa would have you: carry your cross, and not drag it after you.”
”That magnificent and terrible Saint frightens me,” sighed Durtal. ”I have read her works, and, do you know, she gives me the idea of a stainless lily, but a metallic lily, forged of wrought iron; you will admit that those who suffer have scant consolations to expect from her.”
”Yes; in the sense that she does not think of the creature except in the way of Mysticism. She supposes the fields already ploughed, the soul already freed from its more vehement temptations, and sheltered from crises; her starting-point is as yet too high and too distant for you, for, in fact, she is addressing nuns, women of the cloister, beings who live apart from the world, and who are consequently already advanced on those ascetic ways wherein G.o.d is leading them.
”But make an effort in the spirit to free yourself from this mud, cast away for a few moments the memory of your imperfections and your troubles, and follow her. See then how experienced she is in the domain of the supernatural, how, in spite of her repet.i.tions and tediousness, she explains wisely and clearly the mechanism of the soul unfolding when G.o.d touches it. In subjects where words fail and phrases crumble away, she succeeds in making herself understood, in showing, making felt, almost making visible, the inconceivable sight of G.o.d buried in the soul, and taking His pleasure there.
”And she goes still further into the mystery, even to the end; bounds with a final spring to the very gates of heaven, but then she faints on adoration, and being unable to express herself further, she soars, describing circles like a frightened bird, wandering beyond herself, in cries of love.”
”Yes, Monsieur l'Abbe, I recognize that Saint Teresa has explored deeper than any other the unknown regions of the soul; she is in some measure its geographer, has drawn the map of its poles, marked the lat.i.tudes of contemplation, the interior lands of the human sky. Other Saints have explored them before her, but they have not left us so methodical nor so exact a topography.
”But in spite of this I prefer those mystical writers who have less self-a.n.a.lysis, and discuss less, who always do throughout their works what Saint Teresa did at the end of hers--that is, who are all on fire from the first page to the last, and are consumed and lost at the feet of Christ. Ruysbrock is among these. The little volume which h.e.l.lo has translated is a very furnace; and, again, to quote a woman, take Saint Angela of Foligno, not so much in the book of her visions which may not be always effectual, as in the wonderful life which she dictated to Brother Armand, her confessor. She too explains, and much earlier than Saint Teresa, the principles and effects of Mysticism; but if she is less profound, less clever in defining shades, on the other hand she is wonderfully effusive and tender. She caresses the soul; she is a Bacchante of divine love, a Maenad of purity. Christ loves her, holds long conversations with her; the words she has retained surpa.s.s all literature, and are manifestly the most beautiful ever written. This is no longer the rough Christ, the Spanish Christ who begins by trampling on His creature to make him more supple; He is the merciful Christ of the Gospels, the gentle Christ of Saint Francis, and I like the Christ of the Franciscans better than the Christ of the Carmelites.”
”What will you say, then,” said the abbe, with a smile, ”of St. John of the Cross? You compared Saint Teresa just now to a flower in wrought iron; he too is such, but he is the lily of tortures, the royal flower which the executioners were wont of old time to stamp on the heraldic flesh of convicts. Like red-hot iron, he is at the same time burning and sombre. As you turn over the pages, Saint Teresa now and then bends over and sorrows and compa.s.sionates us; he remains impenetrable, buried in his internal abyss, occupied, above all things, in describing the sufferings of the soul which, after having crucified its desires, pa.s.ses through the 'Night obscure,' that is to say, through the renunciation of all which comes from the sensible and the created.
”He wills that we should extinguish our imagination--so lethargize it that it can no longer form images--imprison our senses, annihilate our faculties. He wills that he who desires to unite himself to G.o.d should place himself under an exhausted receiver, and make a vacuum within, so that, if he choose, the Pilgrim should descend therein, and purify himself, tearing out the remains of sins, extirpating the last relics of vice.
”Then the sufferings which the soul endures overpa.s.s the bounds of the possible, it lies lost in utter darkness, falls under discouragement and fatigue, believes itself for ever abandoned by Him to whom it cries, who now hides Himself and answers not again, happy still when in that agony, the pangs of the flesh are not added, and that abominable spirit which Isaias calls the spirit of confusion, and which is none other than the disease of scrupulousness pushed to its extreme.
”Saint John makes you shudder when he cries out that this night of the soul is bitter and terrible, and that the being who suffers it is plunged alive into h.e.l.l. But when the old man is purged out, when he is sc.r.a.ped at every seam, raked over every face, light springs out, and G.o.d appears. Then the soul casts itself like a child into His arms, and the incomprehensible fusion takes place.
”You see Saint John penetrates more deeply than others into the depths of mystical initiation. He also, like Saint Teresa and Ruysbrock, treats of the spiritual marriage, of the influx of grace, and its gifts; but he first dared to describe minutely the dolorous phases which till then had been but hinted at with trembling.
”Then if he is an admirable theologian, he is also a rigorous and clear-sighted saint. He has not those weaknesses which are natural to a woman; he does not lose himself in digressions, nor return continually on his own steps; he walks straight forward, but you often see him at the end of the road, blood-stained and terrible, with dry eyes.”
”But, but,” said Durtal, ”surely not all souls whom Christ will lead in the ways of mysticism are tried thus?”
”Yes, almost always, more or less.”
”I will confess that I thought the spiritual life was less arid and less complex. I imagined that by leading a pure life, praying one's best, and communicating, one would attain without much trouble, not indeed to taste the infinite joys reserved for the saints, but at last to possess the Lord, and live, at least, near Him, at rest.
”And I should be quite content with this middle cla.s.s joy. The price paid in advance for the exaltation described by Saint John disconcerts me.”
The abbe smiled, but made no answer.
”But do you know that if it be so,” replied Durtal, ”we are very far from the Catholicism that is taught us? It is so practical, so benign, so gentle, in comparison with Mysticism.”
”It is made for lukewarm souls--that is to say, for almost all the pious souls which are about us; it lives in a moderate atmosphere, without too great suffering or too much joy; it only can be a.s.similated by the ma.s.ses, and the priests are right to present it thus, since otherwise the faithful would cease to understand it, or would take flight in alarm.”
”But if G.o.d judge that a moderate religion is amply sufficient--for the ma.s.ses believe that he demands the most painful efforts on the part of those whom he deigns to initiate into the supremely adorable mysteries of His Person--it is necessary and just that he should mortify them before allowing them to taste the essential intoxication of union with Him.”
”In fact, the end of Mysticism is to render visible, sensible, almost palpable, the G.o.d who remains silent and hidden from all.”
”And to throw us into His deep, into the silent abyss of joy! But in order to speak correctly, we must forget the ordinary use of expressions which have been degraded. In order to describe this mysterious love, we are obliged to draw our comparisons from human acts, and to inflict on the Lord the shame of our words. We have to employ such terms as 'union,' 'marriage,' 'wedding feast'; but it is impossible to speak of the inexpressible, and with the baseness of our language declare the ineffable immersion of the soul in G.o.d.”