HERE BEGINNETH THE SEVENTH CHAPTER
How a man shall have him in this work against all thoughts,
and specially against all those that arise of his own curiosity, of cunning,
and of natural wit.
AND if any thought rise and will press continually above thee betwixt thee and
that darkness, and ask thee saying, "What seekest thou, and what wouldest thou
have?" say thou, that it is God that thou wouldest have. "Him I covet, Him I
seek, and nought but Him."
And if he ask thee, "What is that God?" say
thou, that it is God that made thee and bought thee, and that graciously hath
called thee to thy degree. "And in Him," say, "thou hast no skill." And
therefore say, "Go thou down again," and tread him fast down with a
stirring of love, although he seem to thee right holy, and seem to thee as he
would help thee to seek Him. For peradventure he will bring to thy mind diverse
full fair and wonderful points of His kindness, and say that He is full sweet,
and full loving, full gracious, and full merciful. And if thou wilt hear him,
he coveteth no better; for at the last he will thus jangle ever more and more
till he bring thee lower, to the mind of His Passion.
And there will he let thee see the wonderful
kindness of God, and if thou hear him, he careth for nought better. For soon
after he will let thee see thine old wretched living, and peradventure in
seeing and thinking thereof he will bring to thy mind some place that thou hast
dwelt in before this time. So that at the last, or ever thou wit, thou shalt be
scattered thou wottest not where. The cause of this scattering is, that thou
heardest him first wilfully, then answeredest him, receivedest him,
and lettest him alone.
And yet, nevertheless, the thing that he said was
both good and holy. Yea, and so holy, that what man or woman that weeneth to
come to contemplation without many such sweet meditations of their own
wretchedness, the passion, the kindness, and the great goodness, and the
worthiness of God coming before, surely he shall err and fail of his purpose.
And yet, nevertheless, it behoveth a man or a woman that hath long time been
used in these meditations, nevertheless to leave them, and put them and hold
them far down under the cloud of forgetting, if ever he shall pierce the cloud
of unknowing betwixt him and his God. Therefore what time that thou purposest
thee to this work, and feelest by grace that thou art called of God, lift then
up thine heart unto God with a meek stirring of love; and mean God that made
thee, and bought thee, and that graciously hath called thee to thy
degree, and receive none other thought of God. And yet not all these, but if
thou list; for it sufficeth enough, a naked intent direct unto God without any
other cause than Himself.
And if thee list have this intent lapped and
folden in one word, for thou shouldest have better hold thereupon, take thee
but a little word of one syllable: for so it is better than of two, for ever
the shorter it is the better it accordeth with the work of the Spirit. And such
a word is this word GOD or this word LOVE. Choose thee whether thou wilt, or
another; as thee list, which that thee liketh best of one syllable. And fasten
this word to thine heart, so that it never go thence for thing that
befalleth.
This word shall be thy shield and thy spear,
whether thou ridest on peace or on war. With this word, thou shalt beat on this
cloud and this darkness above thee. With this word, thou shall smite down all
manner of thought under the cloud of forgetting. Insomuch, that if
any thought press upon thee to ask thee what thou wouldest have, answer them
with no more words but with this one word. And if he proffer thee of his great
clergy to expound thee that word and to tell thee the conditions of that word,
say him: That thou wilt have it all whole, and not broken nor undone. And if
thou wilt hold thee fast on this purpose, be thou sure, he will no while abide.
And why? For that thou wilt not let him feed him on such sweet meditations of
God touched before.