THE GOLDEN FOUNTAINor, The Soul's Love for GodBeing some Thoughts and Confessions of One of His Lovers

By

Lilian Staveley

LondonJohn M. Watkins21 Cecil Court, Charing Cross Road, W. C. 21919

How many of us inwardly feel a secret longing to find God; and thisusually accompanied by the perception that we are confronted by animpenetrable barrier--we cannot find Him--we can neither gothrough this barrier nor climb over it! We have faith. We are able toadmit that He exists, for we cannot help but perceive a Willdominating the laws of the Universe; but something deep within usthat we cannot put a name to, something subtle, secret, and strange, cries aloud, "But I need more than this, it is not enough; I need topersonally find and know Him. Why does He not permit me to doso?"

We might easily answer ourselves by remembering that if, ineveryday life, we greatly desire to see a friend, our best way ofdoing so is by going in the direction in which he is to be found: weshould consider this as obvious. Then let us apply this, which we sayis so obvious, to God. We waste too much time looking for Him inimpossible directions and by impossible means. He is not to befound by merely studying lengthy arguments, brilliant explanationsof theological statements, or controversies upon the meanings ofobscure dogmas. He is not even to be found through organisingcharity concerts and social reforms however useful. We shall findHim through a self stripped bare of all other interests andpretensions--stripped bare of everything but a humble andpassionately seeking _heart. _

He says to the soul, "Long for Me, and I will show Myself. DesireMe with a great desire, and I will be found. "

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Scattered all through history are innumerable persons, both greatand insignificant, who looked for the Pearl of Great Price: and nottoo many would seem to have found it. Some sought by study, byintelligence; some by strict and pious attention to outwardceremonial service; some by a "religious" life; some even bypenance and fasting. Those who found sought with the heart. Thosewho sought with careful piety, or with intelligence, found perhapsfaith and submission, but no joy. The Pearl is that which cannot bedescribed in words. It is the _touch of God Himself upon the soul, _the Joy of Love. 

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The entrance to the land of happiness and peace is through union ofthe will to Christ, by love. How can this sense of love be reached?By centring the wheel of the mind, with its daily spinning thoughts, upon the Man Jesus, and learning to inwardly see and hold on to theperfect simplicity and love of Jesus Christ. We can form the habit oftaking Jesus as our heart and mind companion. We are all aware ofthe unceasing necessity of the mind to fill itself: we cannot have_no_ thoughts until we have advanced in the spiritual life to a longdistance. We may well see, in this, one of the provisions made byGod for His own habitation in the mind of man--a habitation toooften hideously usurped by every kind of unworthy substitute. Pettysocial interests and occupations, personal animosities, ambitions, worries, a revolving endless chaos of futilities, known and praisedby too many of us as "a busy life"!--the mind being givenopportunity only at long intervals, and usually at stated and set times, to dwell upon the thought of God, and the marvellous future of thehuman spirit. We are like travellers who, about to start out upon agreat journey, pack their portmanteaus with everything that will be_perfectly useless to them!_

Now, it is possible to put out and obliterate this chaotic and uselessstate of mind, which would appear to be the "natural mind, " and toopen ourselves to receive the might and force and the joys anddelights of Christ's Mind. These joys are the Heart of Christspeaking to the heart of His lover. They are incomparable: beyondall imagination until we know them; and we receive them andperceive them and enjoy them as we have largeness and capacity tocontain them. For there is no end. He has ever more to give if wewill be but large enough to receive. 

We are too absorbed in the puerile interests and occupations of dailylife. We make of these endless occupations a virtue. They are novirtue, but a deadly hindrance, for they keep us too busy to look forthe one thing needful--the Kingdom of God. What is this world? It isa schoolhouse for lovers, and we are lovers in the making. 

Is baptism of itself sufficient to get us into this Kingdom? No. Is theleading of an orderly social life sufficient to find it? No. Is the hope, even the earnest expectation, that we shall, by some means or other(we do not know by what!), be brought to it, sufficient to find it? No;not without the _personal laying hold_ can we ever achieve it. Shallwe find it in much outward study? No; and our aim is, not to be thestudent but the possessor; and the key to this possession is not inbooks, but, for us, in Jesus. He it is who must be invited andadmitted into the heart with great tenderness--with all those virtuesfor which He stands--and made the centre point of thought. Out ofconstant thought grows tenderness; out of tenderness, affection; outof affection, love. Love once firmly fixed in the heart for Jesus, weget a perception (by contrast) of our own faults--very painful, andknown as repentance. This should be succeeded at once by changeof mind, _i. E. _ we try to push out the old way of thinking and actingand take on a new way. We try, in fact, strenuously to please theBeloved, to be in harmony with Him; and now we have established apersonal relationship between ourselves and Christ. 

With the perception of our own failings comes the necessaryhumility and the drastic elimination of all prides. We remember, too, that although Jesus is so near to us, and our own Beloved, He is alsothe mighty Son of God. 

He is also the mystical Christ, who, when we are ready, leads us tothe Father: which is to say, that we are suddenly stricken with theconsciousness of and the love for God; and here we enter that mostwonderful of all earthly experiences--the Soul's great Garden ofHappiness. 

To be a student of theories, dogmas, laws, and writings of men is tobe involved in endless controversy; and we may study books till weare sick, and embrace nothing but vapour for all our pains. To be apupil and possessor we must first establish the personal relationshipbetween ourselves and Jesus. To do this we must realise more fullythan we now do that He _still lives. _ The mind is inclined to dwellon Him mostly as _having lived. _ When we have taught ourselves torealise that Jesus is as intensely alive to everything that we do as Hewas when He visibly walked with men--that Jesus is as easily awareof our inmost thoughts and endeavours now as He was of the secretthoughts of His disciples, --then we shall have brought Him muchcloser into our own life. 

As the possessor of life is not the student of schools, but is the pupilof Christ, let us prepare ourselves to be pupils; and this again we dosolely by the help of the Man-Jesus, who is in Christ, and Christ inJesus. For the Christ-God is at first too strong a meat for us: wecannot with fullness understand that He is God, but He Himself willteach us this when we are ready to know it. To know this truth in itsfullness is already to possess eternal life. 

As no man is able to give us eternal life, so no man is able to give usthe knowledge that Christ is God, as He willed to reveal Himself toman. If we have doubts which hurt, let us drop them out, changingthe thought quickly to the sweetness, simplicity, and gentleness ofthe Man-Jesus. If we have questionings, let us cease to question, andsay with the man of old, "Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief. "

We do well to avoid these questionings, pryings, and curiosities, forwhen we indulge in such things we are like that common servantwho does not disdain to peep through the keyhole of his master'schamber! Let us put such spiritual vulgarities upon one side, and, opening our heart to lovely Love, take Him as our only guide. Lovedraws us very rapidly to His own abiding-place, for we are made oflove, and because of love, and for love, and to Love we must return, for He awaits us with longing. 

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We often think, Where am I at fault? I am unable to _see_ myself asa sinner, though publicly I confess myself to be one. For I keep thecommandments; I am friendly to my neighbours; I am just to myfellow-men; I can think of no particular harm that I do. Why, then, am I a sinner? And our very modesty and reverence may forbid us tocompare ourselves with God. Yet here lies our mistake; for if wewould enter the Garden of Happiness and Peace, which is theKingdom of God, this is the commencement of our advance--that weshould compare ourselves in all things with God, in whose likenesswe are made, and, making such full observation as we are able of theterrible gulfs between ourselves and Him, should with tears andhumility and constant endeavour be at great pains and stress to makegood to Him our deficiencies. 

 "Be ye perfect as I am perfect. " "Be ye holy as I am holy. "

If this were not attainable, He would not have set so high a goal. Inthis, then, we are sinners--that we are not pure and lovely as GodHimself! This is a prodigious, an almost unthinkable height; yet Hewills us to attempt it, and all the powers of Heaven are with us as weclimb. 

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Fear curiosity. Fear it more than sin. Curiosity is the root, and sinthe flower. This is one of the reasons why we should never seek Godmerely with the intelligence: to do so is to seek Him, in part at least, with curiosity. God will not be peeped upon by a curious humanity. The indulgence in curiosity would of itself explain the wholedownfall, so called, of man. 

The Soul is the Prodigal. Curiosity _to know_ led her away from thehigh heavens. Love is her only way of return. 

Curiosity is the mother of all infidelity, whether of the spirit or ofthe body. 

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Though on reading the Gospels carefully we may be unable to cometo any other conclusion than that Jesus Christ neither prayed for nordied for all mankind, but only for the elect, yet we see equallyclearly that all mankind is _invited to be the elect. _ We are, then, not individually sure of heaven because Jesus died upon a cross formen; but sure of heaven for ourselves, only if we individually will tolive and think and act in such a manner that _we become of theelect. _

"Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out, " says the Voiceof the Beloved. 

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In our early stages, how we shrink from the mere word, or idea, ofperfection; and later, what we would give to be able to achieve it!Yet though we shrink so from the thought of it, we knowinstinctively that we must try to approach it; if we would stay nearHim, we must be wholly pleasing to Him. We think of saints--weknow nothing of saints, but think of them as most unusual personsmidway between men and angels, and know ourselves not fashionedfor any such position: and how change ourselves, how alter ourcharacter, as grown men and women?

It is Christ who can show us the way. 

The Water of Life is the Mind of Christ, and the true object of life isto learn how to receive this Mind of Christ: for by it and with it weenter the Kingdom of God. And how shall we receive the Mind ofChrist? Here is our difficulty. Firstly, we may do it throughsympathy with, and a drawing near to, the Man-Jesus, accompaniedby such drastic changes of mind as we are able to accomplish _toshow our goodwill. _ We may learn to become more unselfish, morepatient, more sympathetic to others, and to curb the tongue, so thatwords which are untrue or unkind shall not slip off it. We can learnto govern the animal that is in us, instead of being governed by it. No one could have a better guide in how to improve the condition ofhis mind than Aaron Crane's book, _Right and Wrong Thinking. _

And next, having become well knitted to the Man-Jesus, the Christwill draw us forward step by step through all the next inward stages, we giving to Him our attention; and He will bring us finally to thatmarvellous condition of God-consciousness by which He is able toperpetually refresh and renew us. There is one great first rule to holdto, which is _to think lovingly of Jesus_: in this way we eventuallyand automatically _come into a state of love. _ In which state He willteach us to put out our own little light, that we may learn to live bythe lovely light of God. And we have entered the Kingdom!

For myself, I experienced three conversions: the first two of terriblesuffering, and the third of great and marvellous joy, in which it is noexaggeration to say that for a few moments I seemed to receive Godand all the freedom of the Heavens into my soul. I am not able tosay exactly how long this experience lasted, for I was dead to timeand place, but I should judge it to have been from fifteen to twentyminutes. 

The first conversion came upon me one afternoon in my room, as Icame in from walking. I had been thinking of Jesus while I walked, as I was often in the habit of doing. Without any intention orpremeditation on my part, I was now suddenly overwhelmed by amost horrible, unbearable, inexplicable pain of remorse for myvileness: for I seemed suddenly to be aware of Him standing there inHis marvellous purity and looking at me--not with any reproach, butwith the sweetness of a wonderful Invitation upon His face. Andimmediately I saw myself utterly unworthy to come near Him: and Iwrithed in the agony of this fearful perception of my unworthinesstill I could bear no more. I was sick and ill with remorse and regret, Iwas utterly broken up by it. I did not know then that this awful painis what is known as repentance, and wondered secretly what couldhave come to me. After this I found myself far more constantlythinking of Jesus--exchanging, as it were, sweet confidences withHim, telling Him what I thought, and endeavouring in everypossible way to follow His manner of thought. I am ashamed to sayI was very remiss and lazy in prayers; upon my knees I prayed verylittle indeed. But I was very faithful and warm and tender to Him inmy heart, and this had an effect upon my mind and actions, andcontinued for two years. 

I would be assailed by many questionings during this time. Forinstance, how could my sweet Jesus, whom I was always so near to, be the mighty Christ and God? But I dropped these out as they came, feeling myself altogether too small to understand these things, andvery much frightened by such greatnesses. 

When I was alone with Jesus, all was so simple and so lovely; so Iput away all other thoughts and held closely to Jesus. 

This having continued almost exactly the two years, upon Eastermorning, at the close of the service, the horrible anguish came onme again as I knelt in the church. I was not able to move or to showmy face for more than an hour; and to this day I am not able to dwellupon the memory of that awful pain, for I think I should go mad if Ihad to enter again into so great a torture of the spirit. I endured tothe utmost limit of my capacity for suffering--for this I will say ofmyself, I did not draw back, but went on to the bitter end. And thesuffering was caused by the sight of that most terrible of all sights:the vision of myself as over against the vision of Jesus Christ, and Idied a death for every fault. Whoever has felt the true wailing of thesoul, such an one knows the heights of all spiritual pain. The heartand mind, or creature, suffers in depths; but the soul in heights, andthis at one and the same time, so that the pain of repentance iseverywhere. And the depth of the suffering of the creature is coequalwith the height of the suffering of the soul, and the joint suffering ofboth would seem to be of coequal promise and merit for their afterjoy and glory; so that it would seem that the more horrible our pain, the quicker is our deliverance and the greater our later joys. 

After this, Jesus, without my knowing how it came about, passed outfrom the Perfect Man into the Christ of God. I walked and talkedwith Him no longer just as sweet Jesus, but as the Marvellous andMighty Risen Lord! And now I became far more changed. Theworld and all earthly loves began to fade; they no longer satisfied orfilled me in the least. How could I contemplate His exquisiteperfections, the ineffable beauties of His mind and heart, and, turning from these to the sight of the world and of the men andwomen that I knew, not feel the difference? Where among myfriends could I find perfect love? Amongst husbands and wives? No. Amongst mothers and children? No. For everywhere I saw discord, secret selfishness, separate and divided desires, and many deceits. Ifound no love anywhere like His for us. I was always an epicure inthe matter of love, and knew the best when I found it. I continuedwith my social and home life exactly as before: the change was aninward change. 

Almost immediately after this the war came, and, with it, tormentsof anxiety over my earthly loves. 

The fearful anxieties I was in drove me to prayer. I began to praymore regularly; but though I prayed, I remained as miserable asbefore. A painful illness came, and lasted four months. I had nohome because of the war, and nowhere to be ill in peace: and I drankand ate wretchedness as my daily bread and wine, and wonderedwhy I ever was born. 

I cannot recall I was ever rebellious. No, I never was. I walked in amaze of trouble, and endured like a poor dumb thing, _and did notthrow out my heart to God enough_ in prayer. If I had done this Ithink I should have been through my pains in half the time. 

Two years went by, and, being in greater anxiety than ever becauseof a great battle that was going on and my love at the front of it, Iwent up on the hill where I often went, and standing there Icontended with God, crying out, "It is too much--the pain of this waris too great and too long; I cannot bear it. I am at an end ofeverything. Help me! Help me!" And in my anguish I seemed at lastto be melted and running like water before Him, and I came beforeHim as it were immediately before a mighty and living Presence, though I saw nothing. 

But though I was so near Him and appealed to Him with the wholeof my strength, there was no answer, no reply, but the great silenceof heaven. 

At last, my agony over, I walked for a little, very quiet and very sad, and all at once a marvellous thing happened to me. I will not heredescribe how it was done to me, but He filled me with love forHimself, an amazing, all-absorbing, and tremendous love--from thecrown of my head to the soles of my feet I was filled with love. Andthis was His answer--and all my sorrows fled away in a great joy. 

This third conversion produced a fundamental alteration of mywhole outlook and grasp on life. It brought me into direct contactwith God, and was the commencement of a total change of heart andmind and consciousness; the centre of my consciousness, withoutany effort of my own, suddenly moving bodily from a concentrationupon the visible or earthly to a loving and absorbed concentrationupon, and a fixed attention to, the Invisible God--a mostamazing, undreamed-of change, which remained permanent, thoughfluctuating through innumerable degrees of intensity before comingto a state of equilibrium. And now Christ went away from me, sothat I adored Him in God. After this for some weeks I went throughextraordinary spiritual experiences, the like of which had neverpreviously so much as entered into my heart to imagine; again I willsay nothing here of these. I came to all these experiences with greatinnocence and ignorance, never having read any religious orpsychological book, and I think now that it is perhaps easier to haveit so. 

Knowing that nothing is done without a purpose, I would questionmyself what I could possibly be intended to learn out of these things;and though I have never yet found a reason for any one givenexperience, yet I see this: the whole (which lasted for someweeks and was gone through at night and always in a state ofsemi-wakefulness, though not in a normal wakefulness, for the bodywould be stiff and set like a board)--the whole was the mostconvincing proof that He could have given me (without destroyingmy flesh) of the reality of the life unseen. For how otherwise couldwe be made to know of the reality of spiritual things if we werenever _taken into_ them? And having been taken into them, andthey being a thousand times more poignant than any earthlyexperience, how could we forget them? Whenever doubts uponanything presented themselves, I had nothing more to do than toRemember! Nothing He could have devised to do for me could havebeen of greater or more direct assistance to me. These experienceswere to my creature what the centre-board is to the racing yacht. With these memories I could keep an even keel, and without them Imust have capsized many a time. 

By these spiritual experiences He gives us an immense courage, andpersonal knowledge of a mysterious and hitherto unknown life ofjoys so great and so intense that all sufferings endured by us hereappear to us in their true light as being a melting and cleansingagency infinitely worth while, that we may gain in permanence suchexquisite felicity. 

Our means of reaching a personal experience, whilst still in the body, of such a life of joys is to harmonise the spirit of our human creatureto the degree of purity required by the soul to enable her inunfettered freedom to perform her divine functions. 

We confuse in our minds the two separate essences--that of the souland that of the human spirit (heart, intelligence, and will), which arewidely different; the soul acting for us as the wings of the creature. And above and superior to the soul, and yet within it, is the divineand incorruptible Spirit or Sparkle of God, which in its turn acts asthe wings of the soul. So we have the worm (or creature-spirit), thesoul; and the Celestial Spark, or Divine Intelligence of the soul, which is the organ of God, and with which we are able to come in_sensible contact_ with the divine world and God Himself. What areour enemies? Selfishness, impatience, covetousness, pride, ill-temper, bodily indulgences, and, above all, indifference to God ofthe will of the creature. 

After this third, and last, conversion upon the hill, which so alteredmy whole life, I was for a period of some months in such a state ofexaltation and enhancement of all my faculties that I did not knowmyself at all. I was, without any intention or endeavour on my ownpart, suddenly become like a veritable House of Arts! The mostbeautiful music flowed through my mind, in which I noticed certainpeculiarities--there was no sadness in it, and it swayed me so that Iseemed to go into a state of white-heat with emotion over it. It wasextraordinarily much smoother than any earth-music I ever heard, and extremely consecutive, like a fluid. Now with earth-music I findthat even Wagner is not able to achieve any consecutive perfection:he reaches to a height--only to fall back and disappoint. But thisother music, which is not heard with the senses but is invariably feltby the soul, remains at extreme and fluid perfection, and casts suchspells over the listener that he is beside himself with enjoyment. Colour and form, imagery of all kinds, would pass through me till Ifelt like an artist, and cried out with regret, "Oh, if I had only studiedthis or that art and knew the grounding of it, what heights ofproficiency I could reach now!" An object of quite ordinary charmseemed, because of that something which now filled me, to expandinto prodigious beauty! The very pavements and houses, mean andhideous as they are, overflowed with some inexplicable glamour. The world was turned into a veritable paradise! When I thought of itall I was filled with amazement, and still am, for how can weexplain such changes in manner of living and seeing? At this timemy only trouble or difficulty was to conceal my condition fromothers. 

But this wonderful state of things gradually passed away, and I wentinto a most difficult condition. At one time of the day I would be inan ecstasy of delight, and an hour later in some altogetherunreasonable depth of wretchedness. I went to and fro from oneextreme to the other, and my time was, I think, mostly spent intrying to regain some kind of balance. My love for God was as greatas ever, but it had become a love all made of tears. Indeed, mywhole being seemed made of tears. I thought often of these words, the peace of God; most certainly I had not found it. On the contrary, my life had become an indescribable turmoil. I found no help frommy fellow-beings; I seemed to have lost the power of talkingpleasantly with them, and my point of view had become differentfrom theirs. Men could no longer please me, and I could not pleaseGod! I was entirely alone spiritually, and I said to myself it wouldbe better if I could be alone physically as well; and I ached andlonged and dreamed of solitude till it was like a sickness. But theonly solitude I could have was in my own room. 

Now, believing myself to be a sensible and practical person, I wouldsay to myself that my condition, being so unreasonable, must be gotout of, and I must make every effort to do it. I prayed for twothings--that I might love God with a cheerful countenance and not withtears, and that He would teach me quickly what to pray for; and Hegave me the impulse to pray for more and greater love. 

Next, I banished my own feelings as much as I could (since lovemust not think of itself), paying as little attention to them as possibleby perpetually dropping them out as they came and returning to thethought of Jesus, concerning myself at all times of the day to lovinginward conversation with Him; and in this manner I fastened myselfcloser than ever to Him, continually praying for greater love to giveHim and passionately offering Him all that I already had, whilstwith all my will and strength I tried to climb out of my miserablestate. Soon I succeeded--I was out of it in a matter of weeks. 

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How humanity is extolled by its own kind! How men are admired, even glorified! I am amazed, for where is the glory of any man? Butrather, how wonderful and glorious is God! that He should cause tospring from one handful of dust such possibilities! Wonderful God!And blessed man, that he should have so wonderful a God!

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Some men say that man has invented for himself the thought of God, because of the great need he feels within himself for such a Being. 

Yet look where we will in Nature, do we find a warrant for such athought? Are babes inspired with the desire for milk, and is that milkwithheld from the nature of all mothers? No; to the babe is given thedesire because the mother has wherewith to satisfy. So with grownmen: for to us is given a deep and secret desire for the milk of God'slove, and to Himself He has reserved the joy of leading us to it andbestowing it upon us. 

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Sometimes for a short while the soul will suffer from a sickness (Ispeak now for persons already very well advanced); she is parchedand without sweetness. Her love has no joy in it. This is not acondition to be accepted or acquiesced in, but must be overcome atonce by a remedy of prayer: prayer addressed to the Father, _in thename of Jesus Christ, _ a prayer of praise and adoration--"I praiseand bless and love and thank Thee, I praise and bless and love andworship Thee, I praise and bless and love and glorify Thee"--till theheart is fired and we return to the intimacy of love. Or the Lord'sPrayer, very slow, and with an intention both outgoing and_intaking. _ So far I have never known these remedies to fail, andjoy floods the soul and sends her swinging up, up, on to the topmostheights again. It is magnificent. 

How is it that we can pass so, up from the visible into the Invisible, and become so oned with it, and feel it so powerfully, that theInvisible becomes a thousand times more real to us than the visible!It is like a different manner of living altogether. And when anyoneso living finds himself even for a short time unfastened from thisway of living and back again to what is known to the average asnormal life, this normal life seems no better to him than somehorrible chaotic and uneven turmoil, and his brain ready to be turnedif he had to remain in it for long. When so unfastened, the wholesavour of life is completely gone, and a smallness of mind andoutlook is fallen back into from which the soul recoils in horror andstruggles quickly to free herself. 

Is this the remnant of the unruly creature rising up and grapplingwith the soul again? Is this some deliberate trial of us by the Master?or some natural spiritual sickness? Whilst in this condition we mustdisappoint the Beloved. On the other hand, we find ourselves keptto the knowledge of our own impotence and nothingness anddependence, and the spirit is strengthened by the efforts madequickly to recover the lost beautiful estate. 

Also we become more able to feel true patience and compassion forsuch others as do not know the way of escape. So we gain, maybe, more than we lose. 

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We may wonder how it is that the Mighty Maker of the Universeshould choose to condescend to the mere individual piece of clay. Itis incomprehensible. It is so incomprehensible that there is but oneway of looking at it. This is no favouritism to the individual, but theevidence of a Mind with a vast plan pursuing a way and using alikely individual. These individuals or willing souls He takes and, setting them apart, fashions them to His own ends and liking. Of oneHe will make a worker, and of another He fashions to Himself alover. It would seem to be His will to use the human implement tohelp the human. As water, for usefulness to the many, must becollected and put through channels, so it would seem must thebeneficence of God be collected into human vessels and channelsthat it may be distributed for the use of the many and the morefeeble. 

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The more any man will consider humanity, the more he will see thatthe education of the heart and will is of more importance than theeducation of the brain. For in the perfectly trained and educatedheart and will we find the evidence of highest wisdom. 

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Why mortify the body with harsh austerities? When we over-mortifythe body with fastings, pains, and penances we are _rememberingthe flesh. _ Let us aim at the forgetting and not the despising of theflesh. A sick body can be a great hindrance to the soul. By keepingthe body in a state of perfect wholesomeness we can more easilypass away from the recollection of it. Chastise the mind rather thanthe body. Christ taught, not the contempt or wilful neglect of thebody, but the humble submission of the body to all _circumstances, _the obedience of the will to God, and the glorious and immeasurablepossibilities of the human spirit. 

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We know that the love of the heart can be beautiful and full of zealand fervour; but the love of the soul by comparison to it is like afurnace, and the capacities of the heart are not worthy to be namedin the same breath. Yet, deplorable as is the heart of man, it isevidently desired by God, and must be given to Him before He willwaken the soul. To my belief, we are quite unable to awaken ourown soul, though we are able to _will_ to love God with the heart, and through this we pass up to the border of the Veil of Separation, where He will _sting the soul into life_ and we have Perception. 

After which the soul will often be swept or plucked up intoimmeasurable glories and delights which are neither imagined norcontrived, nor even desired by her at first--for how can we desirethat which we have never heard of and cannot even imagine? Andthese delights are unimaginable before the soul is caught up intothem, and to my experience they constantly differ. The soul knowsherself to be in the hands and the power of another, outside herself. She does not enter these joys of her own power or of her own will, but by permission and intention and will of a force outside herselfthough perceived and known inside herself. No lovers of argumentsor guessing games can move the soul to listen when she has oncebeen so handled. For to know is more than to guess. 

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How can a Contact with God be in any way described? It is notseeing, but meeting and fusion with awareness. The soul retainingher own individuality and consciousness to an intense degree, butimbued with and fused into a life of incredible intensity, whichpasses through the soul vitalities and emotions of a life so new, sovivid, so amazing, that she knows not whether she has beenembraced by love or by fire, by joy or by anguish: for so fearful isher joy that she is almost unable to endure the might of it. And howcan the heat or fire of God be described? It is very far from beinglike the cruelty of fire, and yet it is so tremendous that the mindknows of little else to compare it to. But it is like a vibration of greatspeed and heat, like a fluid and magnetic heat. 

This heat is of many degrees and of several kinds. The heat of Christis mixed with indescribable sweetness: giving marvellous pleasureand refreshment and happiness, and wonderfully adapted to thedelicacy of the human creature. The heat of the Godhead is verydifferent, and sometimes we may even feel it to be cruel andremorseless in its very terrible and swift intensity. But the soul, likeall great lovers, never flinches or hangs back, but passionately lendsherself. If He chose to kill her with this joy she would gladly have itso. 

By these incomprehensible wonders He seems to say to the creature:"Come thou here, that I may teach thee what is Joy; come thou here, that I may teach thee what is _Life. _ For none are permitted to teachof these things save I Myself. "

* * *

There is another manner. The Spirit comes upon the soul in waves ofterrible power. Now in a rapture God descends upon the soul, catching her suddenly up in a marvellous embrace: magnetising her, ravishing her. He is come, and He is gone. In an ecstasy the soulgoes out prepared to meet Him, seeking Him by praise and prayer, pouring up her love towards Him; and He, condescending to her, fills her with unspeakable delights, and at rare times He will catchher from an ecstasy into a greater rapture. At least, so it is with me:the ecstasy is prepared for, but in the quicker rapture (or catching up)it is He that seeks the soul. These two conditions, though given veryintermittently, become a completely natural experience. I should saythat the soul lived by this way: it is her food and her life, which shereceives with all the simplicity and naturalness of the hungry manturning to his bodily food. But these waves of power weresomething altogether new and very hard to endure. As each wavepassed I would come up out of it, as it were, gasping. It was as ifsomething too great for the soul to contain was being forced throughher. It was as if one should try to force at fearful pressure fluidthrough a body too solid to be percolated by it. I understood nothingof what could be intended by such happenings, neither could I giveaccommodation to this intensity. I tried to make myself a whollywilling receptacle and instrument, but after the third day of this Icould not bear any more. I was greatly distressed. I could notunderstand what was required of me. I gave myself totally to Him, and it was not enough. And at last I cried to Him, saying: "Iunderstand nothing: forgive me, my God, for my great foolishness, but Thy power is too much for me. Do what Thou wilt with me; Iam altogether Thine. Drown me with Thy strength, break me inpieces--I am willing; only do it quickly, my Lord, and have donewith it, for I am so small. But I love Thee with all that I have or am;yet I am overwhelmed: I am still too little to be taught in this way, itis too much for my strength. Yet do as Thou wilt; I love Thee, I loveThee. " And He heard me, and He ceased: and He returned to theways that I understood and dearly loved, and for weeks I lived inParadise. But my body was dreadfully shaken, and I suffered withmy heart and breathing. 

Shortly after I began to know that another change had come into me. God had become intensely my Father, and Christ the lover was goneup again into the Godhead--as happened after my third conversionupon the hill. 

So great, so tremendous was this sense of the _Fatherhood_ of Godbecome that I had only to think the word Father to seem to beinstantly transported into His very bosom. Oh, the mighty sweetnessof it! But it is not an ecstasy. The creature and soul are dead toworld-life, as in a rapture or ecstasy; but the soul is not the bride, she is the child, and, full of eager and adoring intimacy, she fliesinto His ever-open arms, and never, never does she miss the way. Oh, the sweetness of it, the great, great glory of it, and the folly ofwords! If only all the world of men and women could have this joy!How to help even one soul towards it is what fills my heart andmind. How convince them, how induce them to take the first steps?It is the first steps we need to take. He does not drive, He calls. "Come to Me, " He calls. It is this failure to have the will to go toHim which is the root of all human woe. Would we but take the firstfew steps towards Him, He will carry us all the rest of the way. These first few steps we take holding to the hand of Jesus. For theso-called Christian there is no other way (but he is no Christian untilhe has taken it). For the Buddhist, doubtless, Gautama is permittedto do the same. But for those who are baptized in Jesus Christ'sname, He is their only Way. 

* * *

God, once found, is so poignantly ever-present to the soul that wemust sing and whisper to Him all the day. 

O marvellous and exquisite God! I am so enraptured by Thynearness, I am so filled with love and joy, that there is no one, nothing, in heaven or earth to me save Thine Own Self, and I coulddie for love of Thee! Indeed I am in deep necessity to find Thee ateach moment of the day, for so great is Thy glamour that withoutThee my days are like bitter waters and a mouthful of gravel to ahungry man. How long wilt Thou leave me here--set down upon theearth in this martyrdom of languishing for love of Thee? Andsuddenly, when the pain can be endured no more, He embraces thesoul. Then where do sorrow and waiting fly? and what is pain?There never were such things!

* * *

We do well never to recall past ecstasies. In this way the soul comesto each encounter with a lovely freshness and purity, and neithermakes comparisons nor curious comments, but gives herself whollyto love. But by these contacts the soul gains a secret and personalknowledge of God: without sight and without reasoning she actuallyfeels to partake of God, so that she passes by these means far upbeyond belief, into experiences of knowledge which in theirpoignant intensity are at once an ineffable violence and a marvellouswhite peace. 

* * *

I find the lark the most wonderful of all birds. I cannot listen to hisrhapsodies without being inspired (no matter what I may be in themidst of doing or saying) to throw up my own love to God. In thesoaring insistence of his song and passion I find the only thing inNature which so suggests the high-soaring and rapturous flights ofthe soul. But I am glad that we surpass the lark in sustaining a farmore lengthy and wonderful flight; and that we sing, not downwardsto an earthly love, but upwards to a heavenly. 

To my mind, this is man's only justification for considering himselfabove the beasts--that we can love, and communicate with, God. Forwhere otherwise is his superiority? He builds fine buildings whichcrumble and decay. He digs holes in the earth to take out treasureswhich he has not made; and if he makes himself the very highesttower of wealth or fame, he must come down from it and be buriedin the earth like any other carcase. 

* * *

It is better not to contend, either with others or against our own body. If we contend against anything we impress it the more firmly uponour consciousness. So if we would overcome the lusts of the body, let us do it not by harming or by contending against the body, whichbut emphasises its powers and importance, but let us rather proceedto ignore and make little of the body by forgetting it and passing outof it into higher things; and eventually we shall learn to live, not inthe lower state, but in the joy of the soul. Why have a contempt forthe body? I once did, and found that I was committing a great sinagainst the Maker of it. 

How dare we say "my body is vile, " when He fashioned it! It isblasphemous, when we consider that it is His Temple. 

To my mind the body is a beautiful and wonderful thing, and isgreatly sinned against by our evil hearts and minds and tongues. Thebody would do no harm if we, with our free-will, did not think outthe wickedness first in our own hearts. For first we commit theft andadultery with the mind, and then we cause the body to carry outthese things. We know that the body is under the law, and itsappetites are under the law, but the heart and mind and tongue areperpetual breakers of this law. It is lawful for the body to take itsmeat and drink, but not to be surfeited and drunken. It is lawful forthe body to have its desires and its loves, but not to be promiscuousand unfaithful. 

But we know that a better way is to turn all appetites and greeds tothis, that we be greedy and ravenous for Christ. Only so shall we usethe appetites of mind and heart and body for their true end, and thatnot by despising but by conversion. 

With great insistence I have been taught not to despise anythingwhatever in Creation of _things made_ in His most beautiful andwonderful world, though often I may cry with tears, "Lord God!raise me to a world holier and nearer to Thyself, for I amheartbroken here. "

Yet I am taught only to despise such things as lying, deceitfulness, hypocrisy, and uncleanness--in fact, stenches of the heart andmind, --and not to think too much about these, but, passing on, dropout the recollection of them in thoughts of finer things. 

His inward instruction has been this, quietly to lay upon one side allthat which is not pleasing to God; and one by one, and piece bypiece, to fold up and put away all that He does not love. 

Above all, He has taught me to have no self-esteem and no prides;and to such a degree do I have to learn this, that, without thesmallest exaggeration, I am hardly ever able to think myself theequal of a dog. But the love of a dog for his master is a very finething. 

* * *

I think we mistake our own power and capacity in even seeking toimitate the Christ; let us begin rather by taking into our heart and ourmind the Christ as the Man-Jesus. For His love and power only canshow us the way to imitate the Christ which is in Him. 

* * *

Is the temporary loss of grace our fault, or is it a deliberatewithdrawal and testing upon His part? Both. Every condition that weare in which is not pure and perfect of its kind, such as pure peace, pure joy, pure harmony, is because of failure on our part to _hold_to Him. Whenever, and for so long, as we keep ourselves in thesingle and simple condition of mind and heart necessary for theperception and reception of Him, for just so long shall we receiveand perceive him; but this condition again we cannot maintainwithout grace. All loss of joy, of serenity, of contact, is failure, then, on our part or withdrawal upon His. Yet we learn a bitter but usefullesson by these losses of ability for connection. To returnignominiously to our dust is a most bitter humiliation and trial--indeed, a desolation. Now, if we did not so return we might supposeourselves able, of our own power, not only to achieve momentaryconnection with the Divine, but to remain at will in this sublimecondition, by which I mean in a state bordering upon ecstasy. Thewithdrawal of grace therefore would seem to be a necessary part ofthe education and of the constant humbling of the soul. To findourselves, of our own unaided capacity, by the mere force of ourown will, able to constantly go up to so high a level wouldinevitably foster pride; indeed, to attain such a capacity would seemto place us on a level with the angels!

By these withdrawals of grace, which came at first very tenderly, butgradually with greater and greater severity, I have learnt this: that inspite of all that has been done for me, of all that I have experienced, in spite of all the heights to which at times I have been raised, Iremain nothing better than the frailest and unworthiest thing! Thesight of an ugly grey cloud, momentarily and gloriously illuminedby the sun, is a sufficient illustration of the temporarytransformation of our own selves touched by the light and the gloryof God. 

For the carrying out of His plan, it would seem to be His goodpleasure that we are just what we are--not angels, but little humanthings, full of simplicity and trust and love. "Like dear children, " asSt Paul says; and yet, oh! wonder of wonders! _far more than this. _For whilst we patiently wait, from time to time He stoops andembraces the soul in an infinite bliss, in which we are no morechildren, but are caught up into High Love. 

At first when we begin this new kind of living He holds us firmly, asit were, to a condition suitable for contact with Him. If He did notdo so, having had no previous practice, we should never remain in itfor two moments together. Then little by little He teaches us to livewith less frequent joy, and this is the cause of much difficulty andtrouble. It is hard to endure being without this blessed state andthese marvellous favours, and more and more I found He withdrewthem whilst often my worldly and commonplace heart and mind stillheld me back--_even from peace. _ If we could but rid ourselvesquickly of all selfish desires and greeds! Not until I had learnt to dothis was I given back my joys, and then sparingly. 

How I would turn towards that secret door--the door of the kingdomof love, --and calling to Him, hear no reply! Where is He gone?--whythis desertion?--I would cry. How can He cause such pain, how can Ibear such dreadful deprivations, and what is love but a sharp sword?Lord, let me hear Thy voice, for I am in despair; I cannot bear thesepains, I fear for everything, my joy is lost. My bread is spread withbitterness; where is the honey that I love so well? Lord, call to meeven from far away, and I shall hear and be consoled. Lord, I amsick and ill--how canst Thou leave me so? Hast Thou no pity for mypain?--is this Thy love? _My_ pain! Lord, I remember! Thou hastbeen kissed by pain more frequently than I. Oh, let me wipe thememory of Thy pain away with my warm love, and let me sing toThee and be Thy lark, and do Thou go and wander where Thou wiltand I will love Thee just the same! And softly the Voice of theBeloved, saying: "I am here, I never left thee; but thou wast busycrying of thy pains and did not hear Me when I answered thee. "Lord, so I was! I was so filled with self, and, asking for _Thy gifts, Idid forget to give!_ and so lost love. 

* * *

It is hard to conquer in small things, petty irritations, worries, caresof this world, likes and dislikes--all of these being subtle temptations, and all selfish. For instance, very often I find the human voice themost horrible thing that I know! I will be in a beautiful state of mind, and people around me will drag me from it with their maddeninginanities of conversation. This one will speak of the weather, andthat one of food; another of scandal, another of amusements. Theywill talk of their love for a dog, for a horse, for golf, for men orwomen; but never do I hear at any time, or anywhere, anyone speakof their love for God. I must listen to all their loves, but if I shouldventure to speak of mine they would look at me amazed; indeed, Inever should dare to do it. And this is perhaps the greatest weaknessthat I have to fight against now, and one that spoils the harmony ofthe mind more than any other--that I cannot always control myselffrom secret though unspoken irritation, impatience, and criticisms;and to criticise is to judge, and in this there is wrong, and thesmallest breeze of wrong is enough to blow to--even to close--thedoor into that other lovely world. And not only this, but every suchfailure is a disappointment to the Beloved. Many times I say to Him, "What canst Thou do with us all, Beloved--such a mass of selfish, foolish, blundering, sinful creatures, all hanging and pulling on toThee at the same moment?" And I will be filled with a passionatedesire to so progress that I may stand a little alone and not be aperpetual drag upon Him, and, feeling strong, perhaps I will say: "Iwill give up my share of Thee to someone else, and not draw uponThee for a little while, my Beloved Lord. " But oh, in less than anhour, if He should take me at my word! I could cry and moan like asmall child, in my horrible emptiness and longing for Him. Andwhere now is my strength?--I have not an ounce of it without Him!By this I learn in my own person how He is life itself to us, in allways. He is the air, the bread, and the blood of the soul, and no onecan live without at every moment drawing upon Him, though theydo it insensibly. What a weight to carry, what a burden, this wholehungry clamouring mass of disobedient men and women! Oh, myBeloved, how frequently I weep for all Thy bitter disappointment--neverending!

But this we may be sure of--that all the marvels of His grace are notpoured out on some poor scrappit for no other reason than to givehim pleasure. There is a vast purpose behind it all, and by keenestattention we must pick up this purpose, understand it, _and do it. _This is the true work of man, to love God with all the heart and mindand soul and strength, and not those material works with which weall so easily satisfy ourselves and our consciences, and our _bodily_needs. 

He has marvellous ways (and very difficult to the beginner) ofconveying His wishes. To my finding, the inward life of us is like aperpetual interchange of conversation between the heart and itsmany desires and the mind (which for myself I put into threeparts--the intelligence, the will, the reason). Now, all these parts of myheart and of my mind formerly occupied themselves entirely withworldly things, passing from one thing to another in most disorderlyfashion; but now they occupy themselves (save for bodilynecessities) _solely_ with Him. There is a perpetual smooth andbeautiful conversation between them _to_ Him and _of_ Him; andsuddenly He will seem to enter into this conversation, suggestingthoughts which are not mine. 

Often He will stab the soul, but not with words, also the heart; and Ihave known such communications lie for weeks before they couldbe taken up by the mind, turned into words, and finally as _words_be digested by the reason. And another way to the soul only--rare, untransferable to words, and therefore not transmittable to others orto the reason. This way causes the creature a great amazement, andis like a flooding or moving of whiteness, or an inwardly-feltphosphorescence; it is a vitalising ministration greatly enjoyed bythe soul. This is not any ecstasy, and is exceedingly swift; the soulmust be at _high attention_ to receive this, yet neither anticipatesnor asks for it, but is in the act of giving great and joyful adoration. 

* * *

I do not remember when I first became fully conscious that thecentre or seat of my emotions was changed, and that I nowresponded to all the experiences of life only with the higher parts ofme. 

This change I found inexplicable and remarkable, for it wasfundamental, and yet neither intended nor thought of by me. Withthis alteration in the physical correspondences to life came acorresponding alteration in the spiritual of me. 

Formerly I supposed that the soul dwelt in, or was even a part of, themind. Now, though the mind must be filled wholly with God, and allother things whatsoever put out of it if we would contemplate Himor respond to Him, yet neither the brain nor the intelligence of thecreature can come into any contact with Him; and this I soon learnt. 

Correspondence with the Divine is accomplished for the creaturethrough the heart and by the uppermost part of the breast, this latterplace (above the heart and below the mind) is the dwelling-place ofthe celestial spark of the soul, which lies, as it were, between twofires--that of the heart and that of the mind, responding directly toneither of these, but to God only. 

Before I was touched upon the hill I was not aware of the locality ofany part of my soul, neither was there anything which couldconvince me that I even possessed a soul. I did no more than believeand suppose that I did possess one. But the soul, once revived, becomes the most powerful and vivid part of our being; we are notable any longer to mistake its possession or position in the body. Sheis indeed the wonderful and lovely mistress of us, with which alonewe can unlock the mysteries of God's love. 

* * *

How poor and cold a thing is mere belief! No longer do I _believe_in Jesus Christ: I do _possess Him. _ So complete is the change thatHe brings about in us that I now only count my life and my timefrom the first day of this new God-consciousness that I receivedupon the hill, for that was the first day of my real life; just asformerly I would count my time from the first day of my physicalbirth, and from that on to my falling in love and to my marriage, which once seemed to me to be the most important dates. 

Whilst these changes were taking place in me I would often be filledwith uneasiness and some alarm; asking myself what all this couldmean, and if it could be the way of martyrs or saints, for I had nocourage or liking to be one or the other and was very frightened ofsuffering. And I think my cunning heart would have liked to take allthe sweets and leave the bitter. How well He knew this, and howexquisitely He handled me, never forcing, only looking at me, _inviting_ me with those marvellous perfections of His! How couldI possibly resist Him? All the while, all my waking hours, I felt thatstrange, new, incomprehensible, steady, insistent _drawing_ and urgencyof the Spirit in me. Little by little I went--and still go--_towards_perfection, whilst my cowardly heart endured many fears, but these are now past. It was not any desire for my own salvation;to this I have never given so much as two thoughts. It was the_irresistible attraction_ of our marvellous and beautiful God. Helured, He drew me with His loveliness, His holy perfections, Hisunutterable purity. _I longed to please Him. _ The whole earth wasfilled with the glamour of Him, and I filled with horror to see howutterly unlike--apart from the glorious Beloved--I was. Howfrightful my blemishes, which must stink in His nostrils! Think of it!To stink in the nostrils of the Beloved! What lover could endure todo such a thing? No effort could be too great or painful to beautifyoneself for Him. In this there is no virtue; it is the driving necessityof love, a necessity known by every lover worthy of the name onearth. To please and obey this ineffable and exquisite Being!--theprivilege intoxicated me more and more. 

All these changes in my heart and mind continually filled me withsurprise, for I was never pious, though inwardly and secretly I hadso ardently sought Him. I was attentive, humble, and reverent, nothing more. 

But though I had perhaps little or no piety, and never read a singlereligious book, I had had a deep thirst for the perfect and the holyand the pure, as I seemed unable to find them here on the earth. Inthe quiet solemnity of church, or under the blue skies, I could detachmyself from my surroundings and reach up and out with wistfuldimness towards the ineffable holiness and purity of God--God who, for me at least, remained persistently so unattainable. 

And yet one blessed day I was to find Him suddenly, all in oneglorious hour, no longer unattainable but immanently, marvellouslynear, and willing to remain for me so strangely permanently nearthat I must sing silently to Him from my heart all the day long--singto Him silently, because even the faintest whisper would feel toogross and loud between my soul and Him. And in hours when I fallfrom this wonderful estate I think I come very near hell, so awful ismy loss. 

Our greatest need is to relearn the will of God. For we are soseparated from Him that we now look upon His Will as on a cross, as an incomprehensible sacrifice, as but self-abnegation, pain, andgloom. We repudiate it in terror. 

If we have the will to relearn His Will, we stand still and think of it, we walk to seek it, we try to accept it, trembling we bow down to itwith obedience and many tears; and behold! it changes to anInvitation, a sigh of beauty, a breath of spring, the song of birds, thefaces of flowers, the ever-ascending spiral of the mating of all loves, the sunshine of the Universe; and at last, intoxicated with happiness, we say: "My God, my Love, I sip and drink Thy Will as anambrosial Wine!"

* * *

To the lover of God all affections go up and become enclosed, as itwere, into one affection, which is Himself; so that we have no lovefor anyone or anything _apart_ from Him. In this is included, in amost deep and mysterious fashion, marriage-love in all its aspects. In every way it can become a sacrament: there is nothing in it whichis not holy, in no way does the marriage bond of the body separatethe spirit from acceptableness to God. 

But I was some time before I could arrive at this, and could seemarriage as the physical prototype in this physical world of thespiritual union with Himself in the spiritual world. And this wasarrived at, not by prudish questionings and criticisms, but byremembering that this relationship between men and women is Histhought, His plan, not ours. We are responsible for our part in it onlyin so far as to keep the bond of it pure and clean and sweet, andsubmit ourselves in all things _as completely and orderly as possibleto His plans, whatever they may be. _ In this attitude ofunquestioning, unresisting submission, the Holy Spirit finds a swiftand easy channel through us. It is our opposition to the passage ofthe Holy Will which causes all the distress and uneasiness of life. Hehas no wish to impose distress and suffering upon us. His Willtowards us is pure joy, pure love, pure peace, pure sweetness. Thisbond of earthly marriage is of the flesh and can be kept by the body, and yet the heart, mind, and soul remain in lovely perfect chastity;and I found that this exquisite freedom--after prolonged endeavourson the part of the soul and the creature--was at length given them asa gift by act of grace, and remained in permanence without variation. 

* * *

We know that these things are deep mysteries and largely hidden;but this I know: as the heart feels love in itself for God, in that sameinstant comes God into the soul of the lover. Now, where God is weknow that there is neither evil, nor sadness, nor unhappiness, norany recollection of such things; therefore, to be a great and constantlover to Him is to be automatically lifted from all unhappinesses. 

This is our wisest and our best desire, to be a splendid lover to ourMost Glorious God. 

The more I see of and talk with other people, the more I see howgreatly changed I am. I am _freed. _ They are bound. I find thembound by fears, by anxieties, by worries, by apprehensions of evilthings, by sadness, by fears of death for their loved ones or forthemselves. Now, we are freed of all these things _if we keep to theWay, _ which is the Road of Love. This change we do not bringabout for ourselves, and do not perhaps even realise that it can beeffected. For myself, I seemed to be lifted into it, or into a_capacity_ for it, on that day and in that moment in which I firstloved God. This is not to say that since that moment I have not hadto struggle, suffer, and endure, to keep myself in, and progress inthis condition; but my sufferings, struggles, and endurances, beingfor love and in love and because of love, were and are in themselvesbeautiful, and leave in the recollection nothing inharmonious. Theyare the difficult prelude to a glorious melody. 

Another thing--we become by this love for Him so large that weseem to embrace within our own self the Universe! In somemysterious manner we become in sympathy with all things in thebond of His making. 

Are these things worth nothing whatever, that the majority of peopleshould be content to spend their lives looking for five-pound notesand even shillings--and this not only the poor, but the rich more so?I am far more at a loss to understand my fellow-men than I am tounderstand God. We have need of the shillings, but of other andmore lovely things besides, which cost no money and may be had bythe poorest. It is rapidly becoming the only sorrow of my life thatpeople do not all come to share this Life in which I live. How thatparable knocks at the heart, "Go out into the highways and thehedges and compel them to come in!" To know all this _fullness_ oflife and not to be able to bring even my nearest and dearest into it:what a terrible mystery is this!--it is an agony. Now, in this agony Ishare the Agony of Jesus. This is a part of the Cross, and only theFather can make it straight. I see Heaven held out, and _refused;_love held out, and _refused;_ perfection shown, and killed upon across. What is the crucifix but that most awful of all things--theGrief of God made Visible? Perfect Love submitting itself to the vilefreewill of man and dying of wounds! My God! my God! and did_I_ ever have a hand in such a thing? I did. 

* * *

What is it that seems more than any other thing whatever to throw usat last into the arms of God? Suffering. And this not because it is Hiswill (for how much rather would He have us turn to Him in our joyand prosperity), but rather that it is _our_ will, that in our earthlyjoys and prosperities we turn away from Him, and only seek Hisconsolations when we see the failure of our health or happiness. Andhaving by His mercy and forgiveness found Him, we too often andtoo easily think to glorify ourselves and name each other saints! DidJesus call us saints? These glorifications mankind would appear tobestow upon itself. He spoke of His flock, and of those who throughHim should have life eternal, and of those who, because of the roadthey take, have their joys in this world only. 

* * *

When I was being taught to pray for national things and for otherpersons, and found these prayers answered, I was inclined to beafraid; thinking, What am I that I should dare to petition the MostHigh? But He showed it me so, which, as in everything, is for all ofus: "It is but a cloud which reflects the glories of the promise of Myrainbow; so can the dust, such as thyself, reflect yet other fashionsof My will and glory. There is no presumption in the cloud that itshould glow with My power; neither is there presumption in thy dustthat it should be My vehicle. Both the cloud and thy dust are Mine. "

* * *

As we progress in this new way of living we find an increasingdifficulty in maintaining petition; for on commencing to petition wewill almost invariably be instantly lifted up to such a state ofadoration that the whole soul is nothing but a burning song, a thingof living worship. At first I was inclined to blame myself, but now Iknow that it is acceptable for us to pass from petitioning (no matterwho or what for) to high adoration, even though it is a great personalindulgence (and the petitioning is a _hard task)--_an indulgence soextreme that I cannot call to my mind anything in any experience ortime of my life, excepting actual raptures, which could, or can, inany way compare or be named in the same breath with this mostmarvellous joy; for out of this joy of adoration flows the Song of theSoul. 

And all these previous years of my life I have lived with the greaterpart of me dead, and most persons the same! The more I think of it, the more amazed I am at our folly--working and fretting, andstriving and looking for every kind of thing except the one thing, beautiful, needful, and living, which is the finding of the personalconnection between ourselves and God and the Waters of Life. 

Looking to my own experiences, I see clearly how I never couldhave found without the most powerful and incessant assistance. Weare, then, never alone. But first we must have _the will to seek thesewaters. _ This is the secret of the whole matter. He can turn the vilestinto a pure lover--if the vilest be willing to have the miracleperformed on him! This is the grace of God, and what does it costHim to pour out this mighty power through us? For everything hasits price. My Lord! my Lord! we are not worthy of it all. 

This I notice, that when He removes this grace, very shortly themind goes back to a false, uneven, inharmonious state; so webecome like an instrument all out of tune, and are causedindescribable sufferings, like a musician whose ears and nerves aretortured by false notes, whilst his unmusical neighbours feel no pain!The musician pays a price for the privilege of his great gift; so thelover of Christ. 

Again, there is a price to pay for the immeasurable _joy_ of prayer, for prayers are not always sweet nor life-giving. The prayers toChrist are always a refreshment, but prayers to the Father maysuddenly be turned without any previous thought or private intentioninto a most awful grief for the abominations of the whole world ofus, a terrible wordless burnt-sacrifice of the soul, of unspeakableanguish. And high petitioning is a fearful and profound strain uponthe soul and the whole creature. 

* * *

We say that we have need of the purification and conversion of thesoul; but rather it is first the conversion of the heart, mind, and willthat we have need of. For this would feel to be the drama of ourlife--the human heart, intelligence, and will are the ego of the creature. Our soul is the visitor within this creature, containing within herselfa pure, holy, and incorruptible sparkle of the Divine, and lies chokedand atrophied in her human house until revived and awakened byher holy lover; and this awakening is not given to her till the heartand mind of her human house (or the will and spirit of the creature)is in a state of regeneration, or condition to go forward towards God. Which is to say, the creature has been touched by repentance and adesire for the pure and the holy. For if the soul should be awakenedto an unrepentant creature, this Will and imperishable worm of thecreature (which is of greater coarseness and lustiness than thedelicate and fragile soul) will overcome the soul; and this is not thegoal, neither is the death of the creature the goal, but the lifting up ofthe creature into the Divine--this is the goal. 

After being awakened, then, in her human house, the soul findsherself locked in with two most treacherous and soiled companions--thehuman heart and mind; and so great is her loathing and herdistress, that for shame's sake these two are constrained to improvethemselves. But their progress is slow, and now comes a long andpainful time of alternation between two states. At one time the soulwill conquer the creature, imposing upon it a sovereign beauty ofholiness; and at another the creature will conquer the soul, imposingupon her its hideous designs and desires, and causing her manysicknesses. Hence we have the warring which we feel withinourselves, for the soul now desires her home and the creature itsappetites. 

Until this awakening of the soul takes place, we mistake in thinkingthat we either live with our soul, or know our soul, or feel with oursoul. She does but stir within us from time to time, awaking strangeechoes that we do not comprehend; and we live with the mind andthe heart and the body only--which is to say, we live as the creature;and this is why on the complete awakening of the soul we feel in thecreature an immense and altogether indescribable enhancement oflife and of all our faculties, so that in great amazement we say, "Ihave never _lived_ until this day. " When first the will of the creatureis wholly submitted to the lovely guidance of the divine part of thesoul, then first we know the ineffable joys of the world of free spirit. For to live with the mind and the body is to be in a state of existencein nature. But to live with the soul is to live above nature, in theimmeasurable freedom and intensity of the spirit. And this is thetremendous task of the soul--that she help to redeem the heart andmind from their vileness of the creature and so lift the humanupwards with herself to the Divine from whence she came. This, then, is the transmutation or evolution by divine means of the humaninto the divine; and for this we need to seek repentance or change ofheart and mind, which is the will of the creature turning itselftowards the beauties of the spirit, that Christ may awaken in us theglories of that sleeping soul which is His bride. 

When the soul is fully revived we can know it by this, that we arenot able any longer to content ourselves with anything nor anyonesave God. Neither are we able to love any save God, for all humandesires and loves mysteriously ascend and are merged into theDivine. So, though we love our friend, we love him in God, and inevery man perceive but another lover for the Beloved. 

* * *

To love God might commence to be expressed as being a great quiet, an intense activity, a prodigious joy, and the poignant knowledge of_the immensity of an amazing new life shared. _

The contemplation of God might be expressed as the folding up orcomplete forgetfulness of all earthly and bodily things, desires, andattractions, and the raising of the heart and mind and the centring ofthem in great and joyful intensity upon God, by means of love. Ofthis contemplation of God I find two principal forms: the passiveand the active. In the first we are in a state of steady, quiet, andloving perception and reception, and at some farness; in this we areable to remain for hours, entering this state when waking at dawnand remaining in it till rising. 

In active contemplation we are in rapturous and passionate adorationwith great nearness, and are not able to remain in it long because ofbodily weakness. The soul feels to be never tired by the longestflight, but must return because of the exhaustion of the forlorn andwretched creature, which creature is complete in itself, having itsbody, of which, being able to touch it, we say, "It is my body, " andits heart and mind with intelligence, of which we are wont to think, "This is myself"; yet it is but a part, for the intelligence of ourcreature is by no means the intelligence of the divine soul, but a farlesser light: for with the intelligence of the divine soul we reach outto God and attain Him, but with the intelligence of the creature wereach towards Him but do not attain, for with it we are unable topenetrate the veil. Therefore, who would know the joys ofcontemplation must come to them by love, for love is the onlymeans by which the creature can attain. The soul attains God as herbirthright, but the creature by adoption and redemption, and thisthrough love. By love the creature dies and is reborn into the spirit. 

* * *

The word "poverty, " as used to express a necessary condition of ourcoming to God, is a most misleading term. For how can anycondition be rightly named poverty which brings us into the richesof God? Rather let us use the words "singleness of heart, " or"simplicity": which is to say, we _put out_ all other interests savethose pleasing to God (to commence with), and afterwards we reachthe condition in which we _have no_ interests but in God Himself--theheart and mind and will of the creature becoming wholly God's, and God filling them. How can we say, then, that it is poverty to befilled with God! Rather is it rightly expressed as being a heart fixedin singleness upon God, through drastic simplification of interests:the which is no poverty, but the wealth of all the Universe. 

* * *

Some of us seem open to suggestion, others to the steadier effects ofpersonal influence. I never came under the personal influence ofanother except once, when I came under the influence of the being Iloved most--my brother. At ten he saved my life from drowning, andat eighteen his influence and total lack of faith in God, coupled withthe searchings and probings of my own intelligence, took me awayfrom God, in whom I had previously had a comfortable faith. Atseventeen I began to lap up the hardest scientific books as a cat lapsmilk. I said to myself, "I must find truth, I must find out whateverything really is"; but I could not reconcile science with Churchteaching. I was not able to adjust the truths of science--which weredemonstrable to both senses and intelligence--with the unprovabledogmas set forth by the Church as necessary to salvation. I slowlyand surely lost what faith I had, and hung a withered heart upon thepitiless and nameless bosom of the Cosmos. Inward life became forme a horrible emptiness without hope. Surrounded with gaieties andthe innumerable social successes of youth, I found that neitherscience nor society could satisfy my soul, or that something livingwithin me which knew a terrible necessity for God. For two longand dreadful years I fought secretly and desperately to regain thislost belief, and when at last I succeeded there remained a monstrousand impenetrable wall between myself and God. But by comparisonwith the horrors of past loneliness it was heaven to me to feel Himthere, even behind that wall. (Now that I have found Him by love, Iam able to return to science as to a most exquisite unrolling of themajesty of His truths and powers and laws, and am brought nearerand nearer to Him the more I learn of science. ) Outside the wall Iremained for more than twenty years, seeking and searching for anopening in that mighty barrier. 

And after more than twenty years I found the Door--and it was JesusChrist. 

* * *

Lately I have seen the word "contemplation" used as expressing theheights of attainment in God-consciousness of men, and I find itinadequate. From the age of seventeen I fell into the habit ofcontemplation, not of God, but of Nature: which is to say, I wouldfirst place myself, sitting, in such a position that my body would notfall and I might completely forget it, and then would look about meand drink in the beauty of the scene, my eyes coming finally to restupon the spot most beautiful to me. There they remained fixed. Allthoughts were now folded up so that my mind, flowing singly in onedirection, concentrated itself upon the beauty on which I gazed. Thissoon vanished, and I saw nothing whatever, but, bearing away into aplace of complete silence and emptiness, I there assimilated andenjoyed inwardly the soaring essence of the beauty which I hadpreviously drawn into my mind through my eyes, being now nolonger conscious of seeing outwardly, but living entirely from theinward. This I did almost every day, but to do it I was obliged toseek solitude, and absolute solitude is a hard thing to find; but Isought it, no matter where, even in a churchyard! I saw no graves. Isaw the sky, or a marvellous cloud pink with the kisses of the sun, and away I went. I judge this now to have been contemplation, though I never thought of it by so fine-sounding a name; it was onlymy delightful pastime, yet there was a strange inexpressible sadnessin it. Nature and beauty were not enough. The more beauty I saw, the more I longed for something to which I could not put a name. Attimes the ache of this pain became terrible, almost agonising, but Icould not forgo my pastime. Now, at last, I know what this pain was:my soul looked for God, but my creature did not know it. For just inthis same way we contemplate God, savouring Him without seeingHim, and being filled to the brim with marvellous delights with nosadness. 

But this condition of contemplation is very far from being themountain-top; it is but a high plateau from which we make the finalascent. The summit is an indescribable contact, and this summit isnot one summit but many summits. Which is to say, we have contactof several separate forms--that of giving, that of receiving, and thatof immersion or absorption, which _at its highest_ is altogetherunendurable as fire. 

Of this last I am able only to say this: that not only is it inexpressibleby any words, but that that which is a state of extreme beatitude tothe soul is death to the creature by excess of joy. Therefore bothheart and mind fear to recall any details of the memory of thishighest attainment. I knew it but once. To know it again would bethe death of my body. For more than two hours (as well as I am ableto judge) before coming to this highest experience, my soul travelledthrough what felt to be an ocean, for she rose and fell upon billowsin a state of infinite bliss. 

Of other forms of contact we have a swift, unexpected, evenunsought-for attainment, which is entirely of His volition; thatsudden condescension to the soul, in which in unspeakable raptureshe is caught up to her holy lover. 

These are the topmost heights which the creature dare recall, thoughto the soul they remain in memory as life itself. The variations ofthese forms of contact are infinite, for God would seem to will to beboth eternal changelessness and variation in infinitude. 

Because of this, and the marvellous depths and heights and breadthsof life revealed to her, the soul is able to conceive of an eternity ofbliss, for monotony ceases to be joy. In Nature we see that no twotrees in a forest are alike, and two fruits gathered from one boughhave not the same flavour. 

But to my feeling all degrees of attainment are only to bedistinguished as varying degrees of union, the joy of which is of aform and a degree of intensity and purity which can enter neither theheart nor the mind to imagine, but must be experienced to beunderstood, and when experienced remains in part incomprehensible. It is not to be obtained by force of the will, neither can it be obtainedwithout the will. It is, then, a mystery of two wills in unison, inwhich our will is temporarily fused into and consumed by the will ofGod and is in transports of felicity over its own annihilation! This isoutside reason and therefore incomprehensible to the creature, butcomprehensible to the soul, and becomes the aim and object of ourlife to attain in permanence, and is the uttermost limit of allconceivable rapture. 

When I first knew union and contact upon the hill I had theimpression of a very great light outside of me. I never again had anoutward impression of it. 

But when any sense of inward _light_ is felt I consider it to be ahigh ecstasy and hard for the body. It is the sweet and gentletouchings of Christ which are the great and unspeakable comfort ofboth soul and body. Inward heat I never felt till many months aftermy third conversion and more than four years from my firstconversion. This extraordinary sensation, which to my mind is like amagnetic seething with heat and ravishment of joy, I felt inwardlyonly after I had learnt to know a sudden, secret, joyous delight oflove in the soul, which is easiest described as sweetness of love, isfrom the Christ, and _very frequently_ given by Him. And some sixmonths after the heat, fire, electric seething, or however best it maybe named, I first knew the song of the soul. Now, although it isbetter not to dwell upon the memory of past spiritual joys, lest webecome greedy, and equally wise not to dwell upon the memory ofanguishes, lest we fall into self-pity, which of all emotions is themost sickly and useless (and our wisest is to live only from hour tohour with all the sweetness that we can, leaving to Him the choosingof our daily bread, whether it be high joy or pain), still I confess thatI have thought over and compared these joys sufficiently to knowvery well which I love the best. Heat of love is very wonderful, andsweetness is very lovely, and raptures and ecstasies are outsidewords; but most beautiful of all is the song of the soul, and this iswhen--in highest adoration--passing beyond heat, and further thansweetness, the soul goes up alone upon the highest summit of love, and there like a bird pours out the rapturous and golden passion ofher love. And His Spirit, biding very near, never touches her; for ifHe touch, it is at once an ecstasy, and because of the stress of thisshe would have neither words nor song with which to rejoice Him. 

Oh, the pure happiness of the soul in this wonderful song!

Truly I think it is greater than in the rapture or the ecstasy, becausein these the soul receives, but in the song, mounting right up to Him, she gives. And now at last we know the fuller meaning of Christ'swords where He says: "It is more blessed to give than to receive. "

Beloved, Thou takest the creature and liftest it up; Thou takest thecreature and liftest it high, so that nevermore can it offend Thee, andthe soul is free to sing of her love. Then is it Thy will that thecreature should love Thee? Or is it Thy will that the soul shouldadore? Beloved, I know not whether with my heart and mind I mostadore Thee, or whether with my soul I love Thee more. And whereis that secret trysting-place of love? I do not know; for whilst I gothere and whilst I return I am blind, and whilst I am there I amblinded by Love Himself. 

O wondrous trysting-place I which is indeed the only trysting-placeof all the world worthy to be named. 

For every other love on earth is but a poor, pale counterfeit of love--awan Ophelia, wandering with a garland of sad perished flowers tocrown the dust. 

* * *

As the loving creature progresses he will find himself ceasing to livein things, or thoughts of things or of persons, but his whole mindand heart will be concentrated upon the thought of God alone. NowJesus, now the High Christ, now the Father, but never away fromone of the aspects or personalities of God, though his conditions ofnearness will vary. For at times he will be in a condition of greatnearness, at times in a condition of some farness, or, more properlyspeaking, of obscurity. He will be in a condition of waiting (thisexceedingly frequent, the most frequent of all); a condition ofamazing happiness; a condition of pain, of desolation at being stillupon the earth instead of with God. He will be in a condition ofgiving love to God, or a condition of receiving love, ofremembrance and attention. He will be in a condition ofimmeasurable glamour, an extraordinary illumination of everyfaculty, not by any act of his own, but poured through him until he isfilled with the elixir of some new form of life, and feels himselfbefore these experiences never to have lived--he but existed as a partof Nature. But now, although he is become more united to Naturethan ever before, he also is mysteriously drawn apart from her, without being in any way presumptuous, he feels to be above her, not by any merits but by intention of Another. He is become liftedup into the spirit and essence of Nature, and the heavy and moreobvious parts of her bind him no more. He is in a condition offreedom, he is frequently in a condition of great splendour, and iswrapped perpetually round about with that most gloriousmantle--God-consciousness. 

These are man's right and proper conditions. These are the lovelywill of God for us. And too many of us have the will to go contraryto Him. Oh, the tragedy of it! If the whole world of men and womencould be gathered and lifted into this garden of love! Persuaded torise from lesser loves into the bosom of His mighty Love!

For the truly loving soul here on earth there are no longer heavens, nor conditions of heavens, nor grades, nor crowns, nor angels, norarchangels, nor saints, nor holy spirits; but, going out and up and on, we reach at last THE ONE, and for marvellous unspeakably gloriousmoments KNOW HIM. 

This is life: to be in Him and He in us, _and know it. _

* * *

These beautiful flights of the soul cannot be taken through idleness, though they are taken in what would outwardly appear to be a greatstillness. This stillness is but the necessary abstraction from physicalactivity, even from physical consciousness; but inwardly the spirit isin a great activity, a very ferment of secret work. This, to the writer, is frequently produced by the beautiful in Nature, the spiritinvoluntarily passing at sight of beauty into a passionate admirationfor the Maker of it. This high, pure emotion, which is also an_intense activity_ of the spirit, would seem so to etherealise thecreature that instantly the delicate soul is able to escape her loosenedbonds and flies towards her home, filled with ineffable, incomparable delight, praising, singing, and joying in her Lord andGod until the body can endure no more, and swiftly she must returnto bondage in it. But the most wonderful flights of the soul are madeduring a high adoring contemplation of God. We are in highcontemplation when the heart, mind, and soul, having droppedconsciousness of all earthly matters, have been brought to a fullconcentration upon God--God totally invisible, totally unimaged, _and yet focussed to a centre-point by the great power of love. _ Thesoul, whilst she is able to maintain this most difficult height ofcontemplation, may be visited by an intensely vivid perception, inward vision, and knowledge of God's attributes or perfections, very brief; and this _as a gift, _ for she is not able to will such afelicity to herself, but being given such she is instantly consumedwith adoration, and _enters ecstasy. _

Having achieved these degrees of progress, the heart and mind willsay: "Now I may surely repose, for I have attained!" And so we mayrepose, but not in idleness, which is to say, not without abundance ofprayer. For only by prayer is our condition maintained and renewed;but without prayer, by which I mean an incessant inwardcommunion, quickly our condition changes and wears away. Nomatter to what degree of love we have attained, we need to pray formore; without persistent but short prayer for faith and love we mightfall back into strange woeful periods of cold obscurity. 

To the accomplished lover great and wonderful is prayer; the morecompletely the mind and heart are lifted up in it, the slower thewording. The greater the prayer, the shorter in words, though thelonger the saying of it, for each syllable will needs be held up uponthe soul before God, slowly and, as it were, in a casket of fire, andwith marvellous joy. And there are prayers without words, andothers without even thoughts, in which the soul in a great stillnesspasses up like an incense to the Most High. This is very pure, greatlove; wonderful, high bliss. 

* * *

In the earlier stages of progress, when the heart and mind sufferfrom frequent inconstancy, loss of warmth, even total losses of love, set the heart and mind to recall to themselves by reading or thinkingsome favourite aspect of their Lord Jesus Christ. It may be Hisgentleness, or His marvellous forgiveness, as to Peter when "Heturned and looked at him" after the denial; for so He turns and looksupon ourselves. Or it may be His sweetness that most draws us. Butlet us fasten the heart and mind upon whichever it may be, and in thewarmth of admiration _love will return to us. _

* * *

The mode of entrance into active contemplation I would try toconvey in this way. The body must be placed either sitting orkneeling, and supported, or flat on the back as though dead. Now themind must commence to fold itself, closing forwards as an open rosemight close her petals to a bud again, for every thought and imagemust be laid away and nothing left but a great forward-moving loveintention. Out glides the mind all smooth and swift, and plungesdeep, then takes an upward curve and up and on till willingly itfaints, the creature dies, and consciousness is taken over by the soul, which, quickly coming to the trysting-place, _spreads herself_ andthere awaits the revelations of her God. To my feeling this finalcomplete passing over of consciousness from the mind to the soul isby act and will of God only, and cannot be performed by will of thecreature, and is the fundamental difference between thecontemplation of Nature and the contemplation of God. The creatureworships, but the soul alone knows contact. And yet the mode ofcontemplation is a far simpler thing than all these words--it is thevery essence of simplicity itself; and in this sublime adventure weare really conscious of no mode nor plan nor flight, nought but themighty need of spirit to Spirit and love to Love. 

* * *

The picking out and choosing of certain persons, and the naming ofthem "elect" and "chosen" souls, when I first read of it, filled mewith such a sinking that I tried, when coming upon the words, not toadmit the meaning of them into myself; for that some should bechosen and some not I felt to be favouritism, and could notunderstand or see the justice of it. I never ask questions. He left mein this condition for eighteen months. Then He led me to anexplanation sufficient for me. The way He showed it me was not bycomparisons with great things--angels and saints and holy persons;but by that humble creature, man's friend, the dog, He showed methe elect creature. It was this way. 

One evening as I passed through the city I had one of those suddenstrong impulses (by which He guides us) to go to a certain andparticular cinematograph exhibition. I was very tired, and tried toput away the thought, but it pressed in the way that I know, and Iknew it better to go. I sat for an hour seeing things that had nointerest for me, and wondering why I should have had to come, when at last a film was shown of war-dogs in training--dogs trainedespecially to assist men and to carry their messages. 

These dogs were especially selected, not for their charm of outwardappearance, but for their inward capacities; _not for an especial loveof the dog_ (or favouritism), but for that which they were willing tolearn how to do. The qualifications for (s)election were willingness, obedience, fidelity, endurance. Once chosen they were set apart. Then commenced the training, and we were shown how man put hiswill through the dog: he was able to do this _only because of thewillingness of the dog. _ The purport of the training was to carry amessage for his master wherever his master willed. He must goinstantly and at full speed; he must leap any obstacle; he must turnaway from his own kind if they should entice him to linger on theway; he must subdue all his natural desires and instincts entirely tohis master's desires; he must be indifferent to danger. And to securethis he was fired over by numbers of men, difficulties were set forhim, and he was distracted from his straight course by a number oftests. Yet we saw the brave and faithful creatures running on theirway at their fullest speed until, exhausted and breathless but filledwith joy of _love and willingness, _ they reached the journey's end, to be caressed and cared for beyond other dogs until the nextoccasion should arise. Then we were shown the dog in hisfully-trained condition. His master could now always rely upon him. Adog always ready, always faithful and self-forgetful, was then setapart into a still smaller and more (s)elect group and surroundedwith most especial care and love. Never would it want for anything. In this there was justice. Forsaking all their natural ways, these dogshad submitted themselves wholly, in loving willingness, to theirmaster's will, and he in return would lavish all his best on them. Itwas but just. Oh, how my heart leaped over it! At last I understood--foras the dog, so the human creature. We become chosen souls, not for our own sakes (which had always seemed to me suchfavouritism), but for our willingness to learn our Master's Will. Andwhat is His will and what is His work? Of many, many kinds, andthis is shown to the soul in her training. But the hardest to learn isnot that of the worker, but of the messenger and lover. As themessenger, to take His messages, in whatever direction, instantlyand correctly, and to take back the answer from man to Himself--whichis to say, to hold before Him the needs of man on the fire ofthe soul, known to most persons under the name of prayer. And asthe lover, to sing to Him with never-failing joyful love and thanks. 

But the learning and work of the soul is not so simple as that of thedog, who carries the message in writing upon his collar. The soulcan have no written paper to assist her, and long and painful is hertraining; and exquisitely sweet it is when, having swiftly andaccurately taken the message, she waits before Him for the raptureof those caresses that she knows so well. 

How I was spurred! For I said, "Shall dogs outdo us in love anddevotion?" Only in a condition of total submission, self-forgetfulness, self-abnegation, can the soul either receive or deliver hermessage. In this way she is justified of the joys of her election. The dog, faithful in all ways to his master, receives in return allpraise and all meats, whatever he desires. The faithful soul alsoreceives all praise and all meats, both spiritual and carnal, fornothing of earthly needs will lack her _if she asks_; and withoutasking, her needs are mysteriously and completely given her. Herspiritual meats are, in this world, peace, joy, ecstasy, rapture; and ofthe world to come it is written that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things that God hasprepared for them that love Him. 

It might be supposed that only persons filled with public charitiesand social improvements, ardent and painstaking church workers, might most surely and easily learn to be messengers. But all thesepersons pursue and follow their own line of thought, the promptingsof their own minds and hearts. They are admirable workers, but notmessengers. For the hound of God must have in his heart no plan ofhis own. It is hard for the heart to say, "I have no wishes of my own;I have no interests, no plans, no ambitions, no schemes, no desires, no loves, no will. Thy will is my will. Thy desire is my desire. Thylove is my all. I am empty of all things, that I may be a channel forthe stream of Thy will. "

With what patience, what tenderness, what inexpressibleendearments He helps the soul, training her by love!--which is not tosay that she is trained without much suffering of the creature. So weare trained by two opposite ways--by suffering and by joys; and thewhole under an attitude of passionate and devoted attention on ourpart. The sufferings of the soul baffle all description with theirstrange intensities. 

Our encouragements are great and extraordinary sweetnesses, urgings, and joyful uplifting of the spirit. So that when we wouldstop, we are pressed forward; when we are exhausted, we are filledwith the wine of sweetness; when we are in tears, we are embracedinto the Holy Spirit. 

* * *

Sin and ill are the false notes struck by man across the harmony ofGod's will, and to strike upon or even remember such notes is instantbanishment from the music of His presence. Where all is joy, therejoy is all_;_ and he who has not reached this joy does not knowGod--he is still a follower, and not a possessor, and he should refusein his heart to remain satisfied with his condition, but climb on. Whystay behind? Climb on, climb on!

How often I have been mystified and disturbed by the attitude ofmany religious and pious people, that to follow Christ is a way ofgloom, of sadness, of heaviness! How often have I gathered fromsermons that we are to give up all bright and enticing things if wewould follow Him, and the preacher _goes no further!_ Has theLord, then, no enticements, no sweetnesses, no brightness to offer us, that we should be asked to forsake all pleasantnesses, all brightness, all attractions if we follow Him? This to me always seemed terrible, and my heart would sink. Indeed, to my poor mind and heart itseemed nothing more hopeful than a going from bad to worse!

All the pictures I have seen, either of the Crucifixion or the Way ofthe Cross (and especially those of more recent times and painting), portray His Blessed Face all worn with gloom; and I know now thatthis is far from the truth. For perfect love knows agony, but nogloom. He went through all His agony, lifted high above gloom, in agreat ecstasy of love for us. 

To speak of _sacrifice_ in connection with following Him is, to mymind, the work of a very foolish person and one in danger of beingblasphemous. For how dare we say that it is a sacrifice when, by theputting away of foolish desires, we find God! And to find God, through the following of Jesus Christ, is to _gain so much_ (even inthis world, and without waiting for the next) that those who gain itnever cease to be amazed at the vastness of it. 

We find this to be an absolute truth, that if we have not Him wehave, and are, nothing, in comparison with that which we are andthat which we have when we have Him. 

In my earlier stages I was greatly set back and disturbed by thisgloom and sacrifice (which is no sacrifice) of myself so put forwardby pulpit teaching. It was a great hindrance to me and blinded me tothe truth. I was only a normal, ordinary creature, and they thrust agreat burden into my arms. 

Little by little, as I was able to learn directly from His own heart, Icame to know Him as He is; and I could not reconcile thisknowledge of Himself which He gave me, especially of His highwillingness and serenity, with pulpit teachings of heavy gloom. TheChurch too frequently spoke to me of following Him in terms whichconveyed a burden: "Pick up thy cross, pick up thy cross!" theycried; and He spoke to me in terms which conveyed a great joy:"Come to Me, come to Me, for I love thee!"

I thought I was very cowardly and sinned by this inability to like thegloomy burden, and one day I came upon this out of Jeremiah: "Asfor the prophet, or the priest, or the people, that shall say, Theburden of the Lord, I will punish that man and his house . . . Becauseye say, The burden of the Lord, I will utterly forget you and forsakeyou, and cast you out of My presence. "

These words of Jesus, "Take up thy cross and follow Me": whoeverwill do it will be shown by Jesus that the cross of following Him isno burden, but a deliverance, a finding of life, the way of escape, agreat joy, and a garland of love. 

The world thinks of joyousness as being laughter, cackling, andmuch silly noise; and to such I do not speak. But the Christ'sjoyousness is of a high, still, marvellous, and ineffablecompleteness--beyond all words; and _wholly satisfying_ to heartand soul and body and mind. 

It is written, "They shall love silver, and not be satisfied with it"--forwhy? Only those are _satisfied_ who know the gold of Christ. 

All of which is not to say that by following Him we shall escapefrom happenings and inconveniences and sorrows and illnessescommon to life; but that when these come we are raised out of ourdistress into His ineffable peace. 

When the heart is sad, use this sadness in a comprehension of thedeeper pain of Jesus, who was in the self-same exile as we ourselves. The more the soul is truly awakened and touched, the more she feelsherself to be in exile; and this is her cross. 

But the remedy for her sadness is that she should courageously passout of her woes of exile and go up to meet her lover with smiles. Now, He cannot resist this smiling courage and love of the soul, andvery quickly He must send her His sweetness, and her sadness isgone. 

* * *

When I say that if we will take a few steps alone towards Christ--whichis to say, if we will make some strenuous efforts to cleanseourselves and change our minds and ways--He will take us all therest of the way, I speak from experience. For amongst many thingsthis happened to me: at a certain stage, after my third conversion onthe hill, He caused my former thoughts, desires, and follies to goaway from me! It was as though He had sent a veil between me andsuch thoughts of my heart and mind as might not be pleasing to Him, so that they disappeared from my knowledge and my actions!

By this marvellous act He removed my difficulties, and put me intoa state of innocence which resembled the innocence I remember tohave had up to the age of four or five years. But I find this newinnocence far more wonderful than that of childhood, which is butthe innocence of ignorance. But this new innocence--which is a giftof God--is innocence with knowledge. I am not able to express thegratitude and amazement and wonder that have never ceased to fillme about this. Such things can only be spoken of by the soul to herlover, and then not in words but in a silence of tears. 

What did I ever do that He should show me such kindness? I didnothing except this: I desired with all the force of my heart and souland mind and body to love Him. I said, "Oh, if I could be thewarmest, tenderest lover that ever thou didst have! Teach me to beThy burning lover. " This was my perpetual prayer. And my idea ofHeaven was and is this, that without so much as knowing, or beingknown or perceived by _any save Himself, _ without even a name, yet retaining my full consciousness of individuality, I should be withHim for always. 

What is this love for God, and how define it? For myself, I neverknew it until I was filled with it upon the hill. Many judge it to be _afollowing_ of Christ and His wishes, but this is only a part of it andthe way we begin it, and often we begin from duty, fear of futurepunishment, desire for salvation or spiritual pre-eminence, andobedience; and in none of these is there the joy of love. 

By such standards I might count myself to have loved Him fortwenty years; but know I did not. For ten years past I felt myself tohave so great a need of Him, I sought Him so, that for me Heavencontained no re-met former earthly loves, much as I loved them here. I knew that He would be my all. Nevertheless, He was not yet myLove, but my Need. 

Love is a fire, for we feel the great heat of it. 

Love is a light, for we perceive the white glare of it. 

Of things known, to what can we compare it? Most perhaps toelectricity, for here we have both light and heat, and the lightningflash strikes that which already contains the most of itself (orelectricity). And the lightning of God's love strikes him whose heartcontains the most love for Himself. And He strikes when He will, and afterwards visits when He will; and I do not count myself (forall my earthly loves) to have so much as known the outer edge of themeaning of the word love, till He struck me with His own upon thathill. 

Truly, fair and holy love is our warranty, our only pass for enteringinto Heaven. 

Brave and wilful, rapturous and insistent, love passes with bold yethumble ecstasy into the very presence of her Lord and God; andalone, out of all creation, is never denied the Right of Way. 

* * *

I have seen it quoted, "Turn to the heights, turn to the deeps, turnwithin, turn without, everywhere thou shalt find the Cross. " But Isee it so: "Turn to the heights, turn to the deeps, turn within, turnwithout, everywhere thou shalt find His Love. " Love to help on theway. Too much we might suppose, to hear pious people talk, thatbecause of Christ's way we must be miserable and our life anendless Cross! And so life may be a cross, but He carries it for us. 

Do sinful men never suffer? Do the sinful escape disease? and livefor ever without biting the dust in death or disappointment? Why, disease and suffering are the very twin-children of sin. I am amazedthat people can take such a view of the Cross as to think it anunhappy, miserable way. For so marvellous is the beauty of suchlove that there is no other so desirable a thing upon earth. 

"Come, walk the way with Me, " says the Beloved; "I am all serenity, all peace, all might, all power, all love. Come, walk with Me, andforget thy tiny cares in the peace of My bosom. "

* * *

We do not love God because we do not yet know Him. And we donot know Him because we seek only to know and have our owndesires: and having learnt to know these, we would have ourunknown God accommodate Himself to us and them. 

But let us first seek to know God's desires by heart, and thenaccommodate our own to His: so shall we learn to be pleasing toChrist, that He may lead us, whilst here, into His Garden. For to thecreature that ardently pursues God there comes at last a time whenHe reveals Himself to the searching soul, saying: "I Am Here. Come!" Then in secrecy we arise, --and go to Him out of the Houseof Vanity into the music of the great Beyond. 

There is small credit or virtue to the soul when, in a state of highgrace or nearness, she burns with love for her God: for she is underthe spell of the enticement of His Presence--how can she help butburn! It is as though two earthly lovers, in full sight and nearness, are filled each for each with great love, and are content. 

But this is a credit to the soul and the creature (as to the earthlylovers), that in separation and farness they should seek no other, butcontinue to dwell with great intentness upon the absent love. This isfidelity. 

At times it is as if her Lord said to the soul: "I have other to do thanto stay by thee; and also thou hast had more than enough to thyshare of My honey"; and, so saying, He departs. 

And this is fidelity of the soul and the creature, and a great virtue, that, without change of face, without complaint or petitioning, theyshould with all sweetness continue to pour up to Him their unabatedlove. If any can do this, he is a perfect lover and has no more tolearn. 

When the love of the soul, as it were, exceeds itself, it passes up andbeyond even the song of love; and being unable to express itself bywords or by song, or by deep sighings, or by any of those subtle, silent, spiritual means known only between herself and God, whenall means fail because of the too great stress of her adoration, thenthe soul passes into a great pain, which is the anguish of love and ahard thing to bear. This excess is to the fullness of the Godhead. 

And now the soul must turn to prayer for help, but not to theGodhead: for the more she turns to the Godhead the greater becomesher anguish. But coming down to His humanity, she must beseechsweet Jesus for His aid, and so regain her equilibrium. 

* * *

Many of us are, perhaps unwittingly, impudent to God. In this waywe are impudent: We question (even though it be in secret, hidden inthe heart and not spoken) the justice of God, the ways of God, theplans of God, the love of God: by which means we argue with Godand judge Him. And another manner of impudence we have is this, that we dare to attribute or to blame Him for the results of man'sown filth, saying: "This and this is the will of God, for we see that itexists, and His will is omnipotent. " Oh, beware of this impudence, drop it out of the heart and mind, and flee from it as from the plague!"How then can these things be, if He is omnipotent?" we say. Because of this, that in the trust of His great love He gave us theroyal and Godly gift of free-will, and our souls have provedthemselves unworthy to have it; and now the creature is broughtbefore the Beautiful, and the Holy, and the Pure, but turning away, like the sow, prefers the mire and the festering sores proceedingfrom such wallowings. If there were no choice, there were no virtue, and no progress home. But let no man venture in his heart toattribute to that Holy and Marvellous Being whom we speak of asGod, not knowing as yet His Name, any will towards festers andcorruptions, for what does He say Himself? "Their sins rise upbefore Me and stink in My nostrils!"

We surely forget that this world is not yet God's Kingdom, and thatHis will is not done here, and will not be until the Judgment Day. This world is but a tiny testing-chamber in His mighty workshop;and great and wonderful is the care He has for the workers in it. 

O man! whence come thy wretchednesses? Look round and think. Do they not all proceed from self and fellow-men, alive or dead?Then why blame God?

"Why am I here?" we cry, "to suffer all these pains, and my consentnot asked? A poor, sad puppet dancing to a tune I know not therhythm of. Where is my recompense? And where my wages? I willtake all I can of what is offered here, and give no thanks! It is butmy scant due for all my wretchednesses!"

O foolish man! so timid of all future possibilities of bliss that hemust grasp and burn himself with such delights as he finds here!And equally mistaken and small-minded man who thinks that all ourMighty God will have to offer us hereafter are crowns, damp cloudsand mists, and endless hymns! Such little hearts are far away indeedfrom knowing the _magnitudes of Life. _

O wretched man! why this distrust? Hast thou created even thineown palate and digestion? Hast thou invented any of those fonddelights that so enslave thee now? Hast thou thyself devised themeans wherewith to satisfy the longing of thy _creature_ for thesweets of life? They were provided thee; all that thou hast created ismisuse! Thou art but a perverted thing!--a crooked tool of self, a flydrowning in the honey that it sought too greedily to own!

O wretched, wretched man! so cloyed with sweets of earth thoucanst not raise thy head to see the sunrise out beyond the world, andknow true sweets! How many are the tears wept over thee by thegreat heart of God!

* * *

Since coming into this new way of living, the more I come intocontact with music the more I sense a mysterious connectionbetween melody--the soul--and her _origin. _ Alone out of all thesciences and arts, music has no foundation upon anything on earth. There is no music in nature until the soul, come to a perfectharmony within herself, brings out the hidden harmony in allcreation, and, turning it to melody within herself, returns it to herLord in song, whether by outward instrument or inward love. 

The soul, indeed, would seem to have come out of a life of infinitemelody and to have dropped into an existence of mere contrary andvexing time-beat. 

Who can by any means account for the variety of passions excitedwithin him by the mere difference of the spacing, time, or rhythm ofmusic? In my new condition of living I notice that the soul throwsout with most disdainful impatience music that was formerlybeautiful to my mind and heart (or my creature); and certain types offlowing cadences (very rarely to be found), sustained in high, flowing, delicate, and soaring continuity will produce in herconditions akin to a madness of joy. For one brief instant _sheremembers! but cannot utter what!_

Of visions I know nothing, but received all my experiences into mysoul as amazingly real inward perceptions. That these perceptionsare of unprecedented intensity, and more realistic than those whichare merely visual, can be understood by bodily comparisons; for to_feel_ or to be one with fire is more than to _see_ it. 

To try to compare spiritual life with physical experiences wouldseem to be useless; for, to my feeling, while we live in the spirit welive at a great speed, --indeed, an incalculably great speed--and as awhole and not in parts. For with physical living we live at onemoment by the eyes, at another with the mind, at another throughthe heart, at another with the body. But the spirit feels to have noparts, for all parts are of so perfect a concordance that in thismarvellous harmony all is one and one is all. And this with_incredible intensity, _ so that we live not as now--dully--but atwhite heat of sensibility. 

_Prayer_

Prayer is the golden wedding-ring between ourselves and God. Formyself, I divide it into two halves--the one petitioning, the otheroffering. 

Of petitioning I would say that this is the _work_ of the soul; and ofoffering, that it is the pleasure of the soul. 

Of petitioning, that I come to it under His command; and of offering, that I come to it of my own high, passionate desire. 

I make upon my knees, three times a day, three short and formalprayers of humble worship, as befits the creature worshipping itsIneffable and Mighty God: and for the rest of my time I sing to Himfrom my heart and soul, as befits the joyful lover, adoring andconversing with the Ineffable and Exquisite Beloved. 

* * *

This is the circle of His way with us. First is prayer; then love; andafter love, humility. With humility comes grace; and after grace, temptation; and in temptation we must quickly enter prayer again. 

* * *

O wonderful and ineffable God! who, while remaining hidden fromHis lovers in this life, yet so ravishes their hearts and minds andsouls that they are unable to find truly sweet even the greatest oflife's former joys--for nothing can now ever satisfy them but thesecret and marvellous administrations of His love and grace! On oneday feeling to be forsaken, the most desolate and lonely of allcreatures in the Universe; and on another exalted to almostunbearable pinnacles of bliss, equal to the angels in felicity, andblest beyond all power of words to say--such and so are the lovers ofGod. 

* * *

The soul has six wings: love, obedience, humility, simplicity, perseverance, and courage. With these she can attain God. 

We know very well that no man will find God either enclosed, heldfast, or demonstrated within a circle of dogmatic words; but everyman can find, in his own soul, an exquisite and incomparableinstrument of communication with God. To establish the working ofthis communication is the whole object and meaning of life in thisworld--this world of material, finite, and physical things, in whichthe human body is at once a means and a debt. 

The key to progress is a continual dressing of the will and mind andheart towards God, best brought about by continually filling theheart and mind with beautiful, grateful, and loving thoughts of Him. At all stages of progress the thoughts persistently fly away to otherthings in the near and visible world, and we have need quietly andperpetually to pick them up and re-centre them on Him. With themind turned in this way, steadily towards God, we are in that stateknown to science as polarisation: we are in that condition in whichcommon iron becomes a magnet. It is so that God transforms us intoa diminutive part-likeness of Himself. 

When at last the soul reaches union with Him, she is for a while socaressed, so held in a perpetual contact and nearness, that we maythink ourselves already permanently entered into Paradise! But thisis not the plan; and, our education being exceedingly incomplete, wereturn to our schooling. 

We commence to experience profound and even terrible longings toleave the world and all creatures, for we cannot bear either the sightor the sound of them, and seek all day long to be alone with theBeloved God. To conquer this last selfishness and weakness of thesoul, we must go again--as in the beginning--to Jesus. He teaches usto go to and fro _willingly, _ gladly, from the highest to the lowest. To pick up our daily life and duties, our obligations to a physicalworld, in all humility, sweet reasonableness, and submission. Heteaches us to willingly accept incessant interruptions, and withsmiling face and perfect inward smoothness to descend from ahigh contemplation of God (and only those who know highcontemplation can judge of the immensity of what I say) to listenand _attend to_ some most trivial want of a fellow-creature! Reader, it is the hardest thing of all. No sooner have we learnt the hard anddifficult way of ascent than we must willingly come down it, evenremain altogether in the valley below, and that with a smiling faceand, if possible, no thought of impatience! This is the true sacrificeof the soul. Now, the sacrifices of the creature are the giving up ofthe near and visible joys and prides of the world to follow Christ, and are not real but seeming sacrifices, for, if done heartily and withcourage, an exchange between these joys and the joys of theinvisible is rapidly effected, and there remains no sacrifice, but "thehidden treasure" is ours! But the sacrifice of the soul is real and long;for having at last re-found God, she must resign her full joy of Himtill the death of the body--and this willingly, thankfully, withoutcomplaint, not asking favours but pouring up her gratitude. In joy orin pain, in happiness or in tribulation--gratitude! gratitude!--and thisnot by her own strength but by strength of the Holy Ghost. 

* * *

Because of this new way of living, the mind acquires a greatincrease of capacity and strength and clearness: being able to dealquickly and correctly with all matters brought before it with an easepreviously altogether unknown to its owner. It is no exaggeration tosay that the sagacity, scope, and grasp of the mind feels to be morethan doubled from that which it previously was, and this not becauseof any study, but by an involuntary alteration. So that, though themind and attention are now given almost exclusively to the things ofGod, yet when the things of the world have to be dealt with, this isaccomplished with extraordinary efficiency and quickness, thoughvery distasteful to the mind. 

* * *

As the soul returns to her source nothing is more stronglyemphasised to her than the strength and intensity of individuality;she is shown that the essence of all joy is Individuality in Union. 

In the marvellous condition of Contact, though we cease to be thecreature or the soul adoring the Creator (but by an incomprehensiblecondescension we are accepted as one with Himself in love), yet weretain our own consciousness, which is our individuality. 

In the highest rapture I ever was in, my soul passed into a fearfulextremity of experience: she was burned with so terrible an excessof bliss, that she was in great fear and anguish because of this excess. Indeed, she was so overcome by this too great realisation of thestrength of God that she was in terror of both God and joy. It wasthree days before she recovered any peace, and more than a yearbefore I dared recall one instant of it to mind. 

I am not able to think that even in Heaven the soul could enduresuch heights for more than a period. These heights are incomparably, unutterably beyond vision and union. They are the uttermostextremity of that which can be endured by the soul, at least until shehas re-risen to great altitudes of holiness in ages to come. 

By contact with God we acquire certain wonderful and terriblerealisations of truth and knowledge. For one thing, we learn thenature and mode of spirit-life, as over against body- or sense-life. We learn, at first with great fear, something of the awful intensitiesof pain, as of joy, which can be endured by the spirit when free ofthe body: for when we are in the spirit we do not _see_ fire, but wefeel to _become it_ and yet live! And so equally of pain or joy--wedo not feel these things delicately, as with, and in, the body, but wepass into the essence of these things themselves, in all their terribleand marvellous intensity, which is comparatively without limit. 

Woe to those who must gather the garland of pain--which isremorse-after death! It is easier to suffer a whole lifetime in thebody than one day in the spirit. O soul! come to thy contrition herein this world, where pain has short limit! Repent and return!

* * *

Of the marvellous favours shown to the soul the heart cries out: "Omighty God! of the magnitude of Thy condescensions I am afraideven to think; they are too great for me, and I dare to recall them, but only with all the simplicity of a little child!"

* * *

Those who feel desire and need within themselves to reach theheights of inward life will do it best, not through diversity ofinterests in fellow-creatures, but by unification of all interests inGod. 

God once found, and possessed, we return to the interests ofcreatures in moderation and with judgment. 

* * *

What is pain? It is a mystery of separation, and we are gangrenouswith sin and pain because of separation from the source of life. 

Truth now comes to us in such small segments that we no longer seethe pattern of it; but this we are able to perceive: that the mystery ofSeparation is equal in degree with the mystery of Union, and that thechild of separation is Pain. 

How did the soul ever become so separated from God? To myfeeling, in curiosity of loves we may find the answer, and know the"fall" to be not that of the animal man but of the soul, which, onceliving in perpetual beatitude--knowing nothing of pain because ofthe unity with God, not understanding or being even grateful for herbliss because of its invariable presence, and given free-will, --incuriosity went out in search of newer and yet newer loves. And thisis the retribution of the soul for her unfaithful wanderings--that asseparation grows greater she commences to know pain, and, becoming anxious therefrom to return to the source of herremembered joys, she finds herself unable to accomplish thisbecause of the weight and grossness of the nature of the loves towhich she has hired herself, and from which _she is totally unable tofree herself, _ and yet which she must by some means overcome thatshe may rise again to sanctity and return to God. 

Now comes the marvellous, the pitiful, the universal Christ to heraid--the Mighty Lover; and we may see in the whole scheme ofCreation, as we know it here, from jelly-fish to man, a plan bywhich the soul may bring her wanderings to a term in timeconditions instead of timeless sons. When all this earth is evolvedfor her great need, at last by the mercy of God she is interned in thebody of finite man, and must clothe herself in the heart and mind ofthe human and take upon herself the nature of this creature man, made and fashioned to be a suitable instrument and habitation forher. To counterbalance the grossness and ineptitude of the creature'smaterial body with its appetites, man is imbued with the knowledgeof right, and with a secret longing for a _happiness which is not thatof the beast. _

The soul must raise the brute in him, with all its appetites, topurity, --a mighty task, accomplished with much pain, yet in infinitelyshorter duration of pain than if left in disembodied spirit-life; and, indeed, we may come to look upon pain in this world as one of ourbest privileges because of its powers of purification within a time-limit, and to know that by the mercy of the God of Love we may take our hellof cleansing in this world rather than in those worlds of disembodiedspirits where progress is of infinite slowness--revolving and revolvingupon itself, as a sand-spiral in a blast-furnace, without hope of death. 

Oh, how convey any warning of this terrible knowledge, which isnot communicable by words! He said, "Though one return from thedead, ye would not believe. " But, O soul! repent and return whilestill in the body! Lay hold on the Christ!

In the life of this world, then, does our God of love and mercy giveus rapid means (by conquest of the animal grossness and corruptiblebody, raising man to the ideal man, according to God's intention) toreunite ourselves with Him. And the soul of all animal creation isalso thereby gradually raised with us into a universal adoration ofthe One Almighty God. 

This is no fallen but a rising world, in which all Creation is slowlyand gloriously rising step by step. 

So may our soul repay her debt to God for her past infidelities. 

"Thy Maker is thine husband, " says the voice of the prophet. 

And the creature, with its suffering heart and mind and body, hasalso its incomparable reward of bliss: for because of its love andobedience it is raised into the spiritual body, AND TOGETHERWITH THE SOUL BECOMES THE CHILD OF THE RESURRECTION. 

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[Transcriber's Notes: The name of the author, Lilian Staveley, is notmentioned on the title page of this text, but I have added it here. Ihave made one spelling change: "enough to blow-to" to "enough toblow to". ]