Spiritual Torrents Part 1

Spiritual Torrents.

by Jeanne Marie Bouvieres de la Mot Guyon.

_PART I._

CHAPTER I.

SOULS UNDER DIVINE INFLUENCE ARE IMPELLED TO SEEK AFTER G.o.d, BUT IN DIFFERENT WAYS--REDUCED TO THREE, AND EXPLAINED BY A SIMILITUDE.

As soon as a soul is brought under divine influence, and its return to G.o.d is true and sincere, after the first cleansing which confession and contrition have effected, G.o.d imparts to it a certain instinct to return to Him in a most complete manner, and to become united to Him. The soul feels then that it was not created for the amus.e.m.e.nts and trifles of the world, but that it has a centre and an end, to which it must be its aim to return, and out of which it can never find true repose. This instinct is very deeply implanted in the soul, more or less in different cases, according to the designs of G.o.d; but all have a loving impatience to purify themselves, and to adopt the necessary ways and means of returning to their source and origin, like rivers, which, after leaving their source, flow on continuously, in order to precipitate themselves into the sea. You will observe that some rivers move gravely and slowly, and others with greater velocity; but there are rivers and _torrents_ which rush with frightful impetuosity, and which nothing can arrest. All the burdens which might be laid upon them, and the obstructions which might be placed to impede their course, would only serve to redouble their violence. It is thus with souls. Some go on quietly towards perfection, and never reach the sea, or only very late, contented to lose themselves in some stronger and more rapid river, which carries them with itself into the sea. Others, which form the second cla.s.s, flow on more vigorously and promptly than the first. They even carry with them a number of rivulets; but they are slow and idle in comparison with the last cla.s.s, which rush onward with so much impetuosity, that they are utterly useless: they are not available for navigation, nor can any merchandise be trusted upon them, except at certain parts and at certain times. These are bold and mad rivers, which dash against the rocks, which terrify by their noise, and which stop at nothing. The second cla.s.s are more agreeable and more useful; their gravity is pleasing, they are all laden with merchandise, and we sail upon them without fear or peril.

Let us look, with divine aid, at these three cla.s.ses of persons, under the three figures that I have proposed; and we will commence with the first, in order to conclude happily with the last.

CHAPTER II.

OF THE FIRST WAY, WHICH IS ACTIVE, AND OF MEDITATION--WHAT IT IS--ITS WEAKNESSES, HABITS, OCCUPATIONS, ADVANTAGES, ETC.--GENERAL OPINION--WANT OF OBSERVATION THE CAUSE OF MOST OF THE DISPUTES AND DIFFICULTIES WHICH HAVE ARISEN UPON THE Pa.s.sIVE WAY, AND THE ABSURD OBJECTIONS WHICH HAVE BEEN MADE TO IT--SOULS FOR MEDITATION--THEY SHOULD BE LED TO IT THROUGH THE AFFECTIONS--OPINION CONCERNING THEIR BARRENNESS AND POWERLESSNESS--SPIRITUAL BOOKS AND AUTHORS ON THE INNER LIFE, IN CONTRAST TO OTHERS--CAPACITY AND INCAPACITY OF SOULS--THE SIMPLE ARE BETTER THAN THE GREAT REASONERS.

The first cla.s.s of souls are those who, after their conversion, give themselves up to meditation, or even to works of charity. They perform some exterior austerities; endeavour, little by little, to purify themselves, to rid themselves of certain notable sins, and even of voluntary venial ones. They endeavour, with all their little strength, to advance gradually, but it is feebly and slowly.

As their source is not abundant, the dryness sometimes causes delay.

There are even periods, in times of aridity, when they dry up altogether. They do not cease to flow from the source, but it is so feebly as to be barely perceptible. These rivers carry little or no merchandise, and, therefore, for the public need, it must be taken to them. It is necessary, at the same time, that art should a.s.sist nature, and find the means of enlarging them, either by ca.n.a.ls, or by the help of other rivers of the same kind, which are joined together and united to it, which rivers thus joined increase the body of water, and, helping each other, put themselves in a condition to carry a few small boats, not to the sea, but to some of the chief rivers, of which we shall speak later. Such beings have usually little depth of spiritual life. They work outwardly, and rarely quit their meditations, so that they are not fit for great things. In general they carry no merchandise--that is to say, they can impart nothing to others; and G.o.d seldom uses them, unless it be to carry a few little boats--that is, to minister to bodily necessities; and in order to be used, they must be discharged into the ca.n.a.ls of sensible graces, or united to some others in religion, by which means several, of medium grace, manage to carry the small boat, but not into the sea itself, which is G.o.d: into that they never enter in this life, but only in the next.

It is not that souls are not sanctified in this way. There are many people, who pa.s.s for being very virtuous, who never get beyond it, G.o.d giving them lights conformed to their condition, which are sometimes very beautiful, and are the admiration of the religious world. The most highly favoured of this cla.s.s are diligent in the practice of virtue; they devise thousands of holy inventions and practices to lead them to G.o.d, and to enable them to abide in His presence; but all is accomplished by their own efforts, aided and supported by grace, and their own works appear to exceed the work of G.o.d, His work only concurring with theirs.

The spiritual life of this cla.s.s only thrives in proportion to their work. If this work be removed, the progress of grace within them is arrested: they resemble pumps, which only yield water in proportion as they are agitated. You will observe in them a great tendency to a.s.sist themselves by means of their natural sensibilities, a vigorous activity, a desire to be always doing something more and something new to promote their perfection, and, in their seasons of barrenness, an anxiety to rid themselves of it. They are subject to great variation: sometimes they do wonders, at other times they languish and decline. They have no evenness of conduct, because, as the greater part of their religion is in these natural sensibilities, whenever it happens that their sensibilities are dry, either from want of work on their part, or from a lack of correspondence on the part of G.o.d, they fall into discouragement, or else they redouble their efforts, in the hope of recovering of themselves what they have lost. They never possess, like others, a profound peace or calmness in the midst of distractions; on the contrary, they are always on the alert to struggle against them or to complain of them.

Such minds must not be directed to pa.s.sive devotion; this would be to ruin them irrecoverably, taking from them their means of access to G.o.d.

For as with a person who is compelled to travel, and who has neither boat nor carriage, nor any other alternative than that of going on foot, if you remove his feet, you place advancement beyond his reach; so with these souls; if you take away their works, which are their feet, they can never advance.

And I believe this to be the cause of the contests which now agitate the religious world. Those who are in the _pa.s.sive_ way, conscious of the blessedness they experience in it, would compel all to walk with them; those, on the contrary, who are in what I have termed the state of _meditation_, would confine all to their way, which would involve inestimable loss.

What must be done then? We must take the middle course, and see for which of the two ways souls are fitted.

This may be known in some by the opposition they have to remaining at rest, and allowing themselves to be led by the Spirit of G.o.d; by a confusion of faults and defects into which they fall without being conscious of them; or, if they are possessed of natural prudence, by a certain skill in concealing their faults from others and from themselves; by their adherence to their sentiments, and by a number of other indications which cannot be explained.

The way to deliver them from such a state would be, to lead them to live less in the intellect and more in the affections, and if it be manifest that they are gradually subst.i.tuting the one for the other, it is a sign that a spiritual work is being carried on within them.

I am at a loss to understand why so loud a cry is raised against those books and writers that treat of the inner life. I maintain that they can do no harm, unless it be to some who are willing to lose themselves for the sake of their own pleasure, to whom not only these things, but everything else, would be an injury: like spiders, which convert flowers into venom. But they can do no injury to those humble souls who are desirous for perfection, because it is impossible for any to understand them to whom the special light is not accorded; and whatever others may read, they cannot rightly understand those conditions which, being beyond the range of imagination, can be known only by experience.

Perfection goes on with a steady advancement corresponding to the progress of the inner life.

Not that there are no persons advanced in sanctification who have faults in appearance even greater than those of others, but they are not the same either as to their nature or their quality.

The second reason why I say that such books can do no harm is, that they demand so much natural death, so much breaking off, so many things to be conquered and destroyed, that no one would ever have strength for the undertaking without sincerity of purpose; or even if any one undertook it, it would only produce the effect of _meditation_, which is to endeavour to destroy itself.

As for those who wish to lead others in their groove, and not in G.o.d's, and to place limits to their further advancement--as for those, I say, who know but one way, and would have all the world to walk in it, the evils which they bring upon others are irremediable, for they keep them all their lives stopping at certain things which hinder G.o.d from blessing them infinitely.

It seems to me that we must act in the divine life as in a school. The scholars are not kept always in the same cla.s.s, but are pa.s.sed on to others more advanced. O human science! you are so little worth, and yet with you men do not fail to take every precaution! O science mysterious and divine! you are so great and so necessary; and yet they neglect you, they limit you, they contract you, they do violence to you! Oh, will there never be a school of religion! Alas! by wishing to make it a study, man has marred it. He has sought to give rules and limits to the Spirit of G.o.d, who is without limit.

O poor powerless souls! you are better fitted to answer G.o.d's purposes, and, if you are faithful, your devotion will be more pleasing to Him, than that of those great intellects which make prayer a study rather than a devotion. More than this, I say that such souls as these, who appear so powerless and so incapable, are worthy of consideration, provided they only knock at the door, and wait with a humble patience until it be opened to them. Those persons of great intellect and subtle understanding, who cannot remain a moment in silence before G.o.d, who make a continual Babel, who are so well able to give an account of their devotion in all its parts, who go through it always according to their own will, and with the same method, who exercise themselves as they will on any subject which suggests itself to them, who are so well satisfied with themselves and their light, who expatiate upon the preparation and the methods for prayer, will make but little advance in it; and after ten or twenty years of this exercise, will always remain the same.

Alas! when it is a question of loving a miserable creature, do they use a method for that? The most ignorant in such a matter are the most skilful. It is the same, and yet very different, with divine love.

Therefore, if one who has never known such religion comes to you to learn it, teach him to love G.o.d much, and to let himself go with a perfect abandonment into love, and he will soon know it. If it be a nature slow to love, let him do his best, and wait in patience till love itself make itself beloved in its own way, and not in yours.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE SECOND WAY OF THE RETURN OF THE SOUL TO G.o.d, WHICH IS THE Pa.s.sIVE WAY, BUT ONE OF LIGHT, AND OF TWO KINDS OF INTRODUCTION TO IT--DESCRIPTION OF THIS CLa.s.s, AND OF THEIR STRIKING ADVANTAGES--VARIOUS NECESSARY PRECAUTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING THIS CLa.s.s, THEIR CONDUCT, PERFECTIONS, IMPERFECTIONS, AND EXPERIENCES.

The second cla.s.s are like those large rivers which move with a slow and steady course. They flow with pomp and majesty; their course is direct and easily followed; they are charged with merchandise, and can go on to the sea without mingling with other rivers; but they are late in reaching it, being grave and slow. There are even some who never reach it at all, and these, for the most part, lose themselves in other larger rivers, or else turn aside to some arm of the sea. Many of these rivers serve to carry merchandise, and are heavily laden with it. They may be kept back by sluices, and turned off at certain points. Such are the souls in the _pa.s.sive way of sight_. Their strength is very abundant; they are laden with gifts, and graces, and celestial favours; they are the admiration of their generation; and numbers of saints who shine as stars in the Church have never pa.s.sed this limit. This cla.s.s is composed of two kinds. The first commenced in the ordinary way, and have afterwards been drawn to pa.s.sive contemplation. The others have been, as it were, taken by surprise; they have been seized by the heart, and they feel themselves loving without having learned to know the object of their love. For there is this difference between divine and human love, that the latter supposes a previous acquaintance with its object, because, as it is outside of it, the senses must be taken to it, and the senses can only be taken to it because it is communicated to them: the eyes see and the heart loves. It is not so with divine love. G.o.d, having an absolute power over the heart of man, and being its origin and its end, it is not necessary that He should make known to it what He is. He takes it by a.s.sault, without giving it battle. The heart is powerless to resist Him, even though He may not use an absolute and violent authority, unless it be in some cases where He permits it to be so, in order to manifest His power. He takes hearts, then, in this way, making them burn in a moment; but usually He gives them flashes of light which dazzle them, and lift them nearer to Himself. These persons appear much greater than those of whom I shall speak later, to those who are not possessed of a divine discernment, for they attain outwardly to a high degree of perfection, G.o.d eminently elevating their natural capacity, and replenishing it in an extraordinary manner; and yet they are never really brought to a state of annihilation to self, and G.o.d does not usually so draw them out of their own being that they become lost in Himself. Such characters as these are, however, the wonder and admiration of men. G.o.d bestows on them gifts upon gifts, graces upon graces, visions, revelations, inward voices, ecstasies, ravishments, &c.

It seems as though G.o.d's only care was to enrich and beautify them, and to communicate to them His secrets. All joys are theirs.

This does not imply that they bear no heavy crosses, no fierce temptations: these are the shadows which cause their virtues to shine with greater brilliancy; for these temptations are thrust back vigorously, the crosses are borne bravely; they even desire more of them: they are all flame and fire, enthusiasm and love. G.o.d uses them to accomplish great things, and it seems as though they only need to desire a thing in order to receive it from G.o.d, He finding His delight in satisfying all their desires and doing all their will. Yet in the same path there are various degrees of progression, and some attain a far higher standard of perfection than others; their danger lies in fixing their thoughts upon what G.o.d has done for them, thus stopping at the gifts, instead of being led through them to the Giver.

The design of G.o.d in the bestowal of His grace, and in the profusion with which He gives it, is to bring them nearer to Himself; but they make use of it for an utterly different end: they rest in it, reflect upon it, look at it, and appropriate it; and hence arise vanity, complaisance, self-esteem, the preference of themselves to others, and often the destruction of religious life. These people are admirable, in themselves considered; and sometimes by a special grace they are made very helpful to others, particularly if they have been brought from great depths of sin. But usually they are less fitted to lead others than those who come after; for being near to G.o.d themselves, they have a horror of sin, and often a shrinking from sinners, and never having experienced the miseries they see in others, they are astonished, and unable to render either help or advice. They expect too great perfection, and do not lead on to it little by little, and if they meet with weak ones, they do not aid them in proportion to their own advancement, or in accordance with G.o.d's designs, but often even seek to avoid them. They find it difficult to converse with those who have not reached their own level, preferring a solitary life to all the ministry of love. If such persons were heard in conversation by those not divinely enlightened, they would be believed equal to the last cla.s.s, or even more advanced. They make use of the same terms--of DEATH, LOSS OF SELF, ANNIHILATION, &c.; and it is quite true that they do die in their own way, that they are annihilated and lose themselves, for often their natural sensibilities are lost or suspended in their seasons of devotion; they even lose the habit of making use of them. Thus these souls are pa.s.sive, but they have light, and love, and strength in themselves; they like to retain something of their own, it may be even their virtues, but in so delicate a form that only the Divine eye can detect it. Such as these are so laden with merchandise that their course is very slow. What must be done with them, then, to lead them out of this way? There is a more safe and certain path for them, even that of faith: they need to be led from the sensible to the supernatural, from that which is known and perceived to the very deep, yet very safe, darkness of faith. It is useless to endeavour to ascertain whether these things be of G.o.d or not, since they must be surpa.s.sed; for if they are of G.o.d, they will be carried on by Him, if only we abandon ourselves to Him; and if they are not of G.o.d, we shall not be deceived by them, if we do not stay at them.

This cla.s.s of people find far greater difficulty in entering the way of faith than the first, for as what they already possess is so great, and so evidently from G.o.d, they will not believe that there is anything higher in the Church of G.o.d. Therefore they cling to it.

O G.o.d! how many spiritual possessions there are which appear great virtues to those who are not divinely enlightened, and which appear great and dangerous defects to those who are so! For those in this way regard as virtues what others look upon as subtle faults; and even the light to see them in their true colours is not given to them. These people have rules and regulations for their obedience, which are marked by prudence; they are strong and vigorous, though they appear dead. They are indeed dead as to their own wants, but not as to their foundation.

Such souls as these often possess an inner silence, certain sinkings into G.o.d, which they distinguish and express well; but they have not that secret longing to be nothing, like the last cla.s.s. It is true they desire to be nothing by a certain perceptible annihilation, a deep humility, an abas.e.m.e.nt under the immense weight of G.o.d's greatness. All this is an annihilation in which they dwell without being annihilated.

They have the feeling of annihilation without the reality, for the soul is still sustained by its feelings, and this state is more satisfactory to it than any other, for it gives more a.s.surance. This cla.s.s usually are only brought into G.o.d by death, unless it be some privileged ones, whom G.o.d designs to be the lights of His Church, or whom He designs to sanctify more eminently; and such He robs by degrees of all their riches. But as there are few sufficiently courageous to be willing, after so much blessedness, to lose it all, few pa.s.s this point, G.o.d's intention perhaps being that they should not pa.s.s it, and that, as in the Father's house there are many mansions, they should only occupy this one. Let us leave the causes with G.o.d.

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE THIRD WAY OF RETURN TO G.o.d, WHICH IS THE Pa.s.sIVE WAY OF FAITH, AND OF ITS FIRST DEGREE--DESCRIPTION OF THIS WAY UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A TORRENT--PROPENSITY OF THE SOUL TOWARDS G.o.d--ITS PROPERTIES, OBSTACLES, AND EFFECTS EXPLAINED BY THE SIMILITUDE OF FIRE--WHAT BEFALLS THE SOUL CALLED TO WALK IN THE Pa.s.sIVE WAY OF FAITH--DESCRIPTION OF THE FIRST DEGREE OF THIS THIRD WAY, AND OF THE STATE OF THE SOUL IN IT--THE REST IT FINDS IN IT WOULD BE HURTFUL IF G.o.d DID NOT DRAW IT OUT OF IT, IN ORDER TO FURTHER ITS ADVANCEMENT.

What shall we say of the souls in this _third way_, unless it be that they resemble TORRENTS which rise in high mountains? They have their source in G.o.d Himself, and they have not a moment's rest until they are lost in Him. Nothing stops them, and no burdens are laid upon them. They rush on with a rapidity which alarms even the most confident. These torrents flow without order, here and there, wherever they can find a pa.s.sage, having neither regular beds nor an orderly course. They sometimes become muddy by pa.s.sing through ground which is not firm, and which they bear away with them by their rapidity. Sometimes they appear to be irrecoverably lost, then they reappear for a time, but it is only to precipitate themselves in another abyss, still deeper than the former one. It is the sport of these torrents to show themselves, to lose themselves, and to break themselves upon the rocks. Their course is so rapid as to be undiscernible; but finally, after many precipices and abysses, after having been dashed against rocks, and many times lost and found again, they reach the sea, where they are lost to be found no more. And there, however poor, mean, useless, dest.i.tute of merchandise the poor torrent may have been, it is wonderfully enriched, for it is not rich with its own riches, like other rivers, which only bear a certain amount of merchandise or certain rarities, but it is rich with the riches of the sea itself. It bears on its bosom the largest vessels; it is the sea which bears them, and yet it is the river, because the river, being lost in the sea, has become one with it.

It is to be remarked, that the river or torrent thus precipitated into the sea does not lose its nature, although it is so changed and lost as not to be recognised. It will always remain what it was, yet its ident.i.ty is lost, not as to reality, but as to quality; for it so takes the properties of salt water, that it has nothing peculiar to itself, and the more it loses itself and remains in the sea, the more it exchanges its own nature for that of the sea. For what, then, is not this poor torrent fitted? Its capacity is unlimited, since it is the same as that of the sea; it is capable of enriching the whole earth. O happy loss! who can set thee forth? Who can describe the gain which has been made by this useless and good-for-nothing river, despised and looked upon as a mad thing, on which the smallest boat could not be trusted, because, not being able to restrain itself, it would have dragged the boat with it. What do you say of the fate of this torrent, O great rivers! which flow with such majesty, which are the delight and admiration of the world, and glory in the quant.i.ty of merchandise spread out upon you? The fate of this poor torrent, which you regard with contempt, or at best with compa.s.sion, what has it become? What use can it serve now, or rather, what use can it not serve? What does it lack?

You are now its servants, since the riches which you possess are only the overflow of its abundance, or a fresh supply which you are carrying to it.

But before speaking of the happiness of a soul thus lost in G.o.d, we must begin with its origin and go on by degrees.