Part 4

"Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes; My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace; And see how swift My foot, and follow Me. For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be, Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds, And seized by hate, and bound by calumny, And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou shouldst see, By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee. And they shall scourge thee with the worlds despite, And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread, For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite, By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led, By misery left forlorn-- And scourged by want, and by temptation crowned, And spit upon by scorn. The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be; Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will; The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee; And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay, Yet thou shalt love Me still. The spear shall pierce thine heart, and Mine shall be The life that lives and moves henceforth in thee. Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross, Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss, Thou shalt awaken, and be borne above Upon the breath of Mine almighty love."

Thus the revelation of the love of God, which was to the soul the opening of heaven, the entrance into the Father's house where was the feast of joy, the music, and the dancing, was to lead to a walk of faithfulness here below, which would bring upon the witness of God persecution and shame and reproach.

Was it, therefore, that when the Lord had spoken to the Pharisees of the love which welcomes the publican and the sinner, of the joy and gladness into which the returning son was brought, He spoke to the disciples the solemn warning lest the riches, not only temporal, but spiritual, entrusted to them as stewards should be wasted by them? Is it not true that the revelation to the soul of that which is in the Father's house, the joy and the love, and the unspeakable riches of Christ, needs nothing less than Divine grace and power to keep us from misusing the treasure entrusted to us, and making it an occasion for feeding and exalting the fleshly mind?

Therefore Paul needed the thorn in the flesh, not to fit him for entering the third heaven, but after he had been there; so that the riches bestowed on him were not made an occasion for self-glorification, but he became a good steward of the manifold grace of God.

It is to be carefully remarked in the writings of Matilda, that she does not speak of this entrance into the gladness of heaven as an attainment. On the contrary, as we have seen, she speaks of the result of her repentance, of her conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, as being but weariness and thirst.

It is only when Christ comes into the parable that the heavenly experience begins.

"For," she says, "before the time when Jesus Christ opened heaven with the key of His cross, there was no man so holy that he could, or that he might, ascend up into the Eternal heavens--not with labour or with the soaring of the imagination, not with longing or the stretching forth of imploring arms, not with the utmost yearning of his love. For Adam had fastened the bolt so firmly, that no man could open it. Shouldst Thou, then, O Eternal Father, keep fast the door of heaven with the bolt of Thy justice, so that sinners must remain without, I turn me to Jesus, Thy beloved Son, who holds in His hands the key of Thine almighty power.

"That key was forged in the land of the Jews, (and truly the Jews now would lock Thy people out of heaven and keep them in bondage), but when by Jesus the key was turned, the outcast sinner could enter into Thy love. But it is also the love of the Father who speaketh, and saith, 'My soul endureth not that any sinner should be turned away who cometh to Me; therefore do I follow after many a soul for long, long years, till I lay hold upon him, and hold him fast.'"

By the Jews who would lock the people of God out of heaven Matilda, it need not be said, had in her mind the Jews of Christendom, the professing Church being constantly called by her Jerusalem, and the formalist priests "those who follow the law of the Jews."

But the name of Jerusalem was also employed by her as a name of honour, applied to the true Church of God, the true Bride of Christ.

For within the outward profession of Christianity, Matilda recognised the living Body of Christ. It is true that the two should have been one and the same, as the soul and the visible body are one person. But it was no longer so, and Matilda therefore saw the professing Church, Christendom, divided into two parts, the living and the dead, the true and the false, the children of God and the children of this world. To her the true and living Church was yet glorious and undivided, for it was united in one by the Spirit of God. Whether amongst professing Catholics or amongst the "Friends of God" who stood apart from Rome these living stones were found, there was yet but the one building, the dwelling-place of God.

If Matilda had no thoughts respecting the "Reunion of Christendom," she had a firm belief in the Unity of the Church of God. It could not be reunited, for it was the Body of Christ. The prayer of the Lord "that they all may be one," had been heard. "I know," He said, "that Thou hearest Me always."

Through the ages when Christendom had been divided into countless sects, the true Members of Christ, whether they knew it or not, had been, and must be, one. It needed but to believe it, and to own it. But in order to recognise it as true, it was necessary that the eyes should be opened to see that the same profession of faith, or all varying professions of Christian faith, included the two classes, the living and the dead; the living, united together as the living members of the body; the dead, but separate particles of mouldering dust.

A "Reunion of Christendom," which would have as its object to form into one mass the living and the dead, can be but a denial of the great truth that "there _is_ one Body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling."

Matilda, in a parable, describes the true Church of God as a beautiful maiden standing upon a mighty stone, which was as a mountain of spices, and the name of which was Christ, her feet adorned with a jasper stone, which is Christian faith; and in her hand a cup, of which she drank alone "in unspeakable blessedness," for the angels in heaven might not drink of it--it was "the Blood of the Eternal Son."

Matilda knew, and rejoiced to know, that she was one with all the saints of all the ages, and she tells us her experience of it also.

As Mary, she said, she knew how the sword had pierced through her own soul also, because so many who seem "religious" are lukewarm and undecided for Christ.

As John, "I know what it is to rest in the unspeakable love upon the bosom of Jesus Christ."

And as Paul, "Yes, Paul, I was caught up with thee, and I saw so marvellous a place, that thenceforth I could but long ever to be there. And I drank of the wine of which the heavenly Father is the cup-bearer, and Christ is the cup, and the Holy Ghost the pure, clear wine, and love is the plenishing. And love invited me and welcomed me to drink thereof, so that now I am well content to drink gall and vinegar here below."

And further, "Stephen, I kneel beside thee before the Jews who hated thee, amongst the sharp stones, which fall upon me, great ones and small ones, all my days. Those who seem to be good people stone me in the back, and run away, for they would not have me know it was they who did it. God, however, saw it."

"Mary Magdalene, I live with thee in the wilderness, for all is sorrow to me except my God."

Practice.

Of Matilda's daily life we know but little, having scarcely any incidents recorded in her book. Apparently, from various passages, we can learn that, like most Beguines, her time was chiefly occupied in tending the sick and poor.

She considered it needful to visit the sick in the Beguinage daily, "to comfort them with the lovely words of God, and to refresh them also in a gentle way with earthly things, for God is very rich. It is needful also to bestow much care on the cleanliness of the sick-room, and it is a good thing to be merry and to laugh with them, but in a godly manner. And it is well to serve them with ready hands, and to ask them kindly to tell what are their pains and complaints, and to show them that they have a friend who will stand by them and care for them."

Household matters, too, were a part of Matilda's experience. "It is right to go every day into the kitchen, and to see that the needful provisions are good, so that our stinginess, or the cook's laziness, may not rob the Lord of the bodily strength of His servants. A hungry mouth will sing the Lord's praises ill, and a hungry man is little fit for study, and this is so much taken from the Lord's service."

Matilda also wrote letters, containing much wholesome advice. From a letter to a prior is the following:--

"We should listen to any complaints with sympathy, and be very faithful in giving counsel. If the brethren desire to build magnificently, you should hinder this, and say, 'Ah, dearest brethren, let us rather build for God a beautiful palace in our souls, with the stones of Holy Scripture and holy graces.'

"The first stone of such a palace, in which the eternal God may dwell, and where His beloved may dwell with Him, is deep humility. We do not desire to build in pride and vanity, as the lords and ladies of this world; but we do need to build as heavenly princes upon earth, knowing that at the last day we shall sit on thrones with the despised Jesus.

"And make sure that during the day or the night you find a full spare hour to converse with our dear Lord and God, praying to Him without let or hindrance. For the heavenly gift which God loves to give to His elect, His beloved children, is of a fine and noble sort, and it flows freely to the soul that draws near to Him, and to whom He bends down in His infinite love.

"For His heart was so smitten with love to us that He gave up all things, and emptied Himself for more than thirty years, that He might at last embrace His beloved, and give free course to His love.

"Will you not think of this? Could you be so uncourteous to Him, as to refuse Him one hour a day in return for these thirty years?

"When I, the lowest of the least, go to my prayers, I adorn myself for this hour. I put on as my only ornament my unworthiness, I array myself in the miry slough that I am, and I am shod with the precious time that I have lost day by day, and I am girded with the pain which I have caused to others. And I am wrapped in the cloak of my sinfulness, of which I am full; and I put on my head the crown of my secret faults, wherewith I have trespassed against the Lord. Then I take the glass of the truth and look in it to see myself therein, and alas! I see but sorrow and shame. I would rather put on this dress than any rich attire, although it were better to be clothed in hell, and crowned with devils, than to be sinful as I am.

"And in this dress do I go to seek Jesus, my blessed Lord, and I find Him in no other way so truly as in my sin.

"Therefore with joy do I go to Him, with love and fear, and the uncleanness of my sin vanishes before His holy eyes, and He looks on me with such love, that my heart overflows with love to Him. And all the guilt and grief are gone, and He teaches me His will, and makes me to taste His sweetness, and He overwhelms me with His tender love.

"Prayer has a marvellous power, it makes the bitter heart sweet, and the sorrowful heart glad, and the poor rich, and the foolish wise, and the fearful bold, and the sick strong, and the blind to see, and the cold to burn. It draws the great God down into the small heart, and lifts the hungry soul up to God, the living Fountain. It brings together the loving God and the loving soul in a blessed meeting-place, and they speak together of love."

In another letter she says, "That which hinders spiritual people more, perhaps, than anything, is the little importance attached to small sins. I tell you in truth, when I neglect a pleasant laugh that would have hurt nobody, or when I allow bitterness in my heart even without showing it in word or action, or when I feel a little impatience in suffering pain, my soul becomes so dark, and my mind so dull, and my heart so cold, that I have to go and confess my sin with shame and tears. I feel like a dog who has been beaten till I breathe again freely in the love and mercy of God, and find myself again in the sweet garden of Paradise, out of which my sin had driven me."

Gleanings from Matilda's Book.

The seven books which compose "The flowing forth of the light of the Godhead" being composed of detached papers put together by Brother Henry, have, as has been remarked, no special connection one with another. It may be as well to give detached poems from the first five books, and thoughts in prose, or rather not in rhyme, asking indulgence for the imperfect rendering of either into modern English. The titles given are from the original.

How God is to be Praised for Eight Things.

O Dew, abundant from the depths of Heaven; O sweet white Flower, pure as mountain snow; O Precious Fruit of that celestial Flower; O Ransom from the everlasting woe; The holy Sacrifice for sins of men; The Gift that the eternal Father gave; O Dew of life, by Thee I live again, By Thee who camest down to seek and save. I see Thee small, in low and humble guise; And me Thou seest, great in shame and sin: Lord, I would be Thy daily sacrifice, Though I am worthless, vile, and foul within. Yet into that mean cup Thy grace will pour The love that overflows for evermore.

How God draweth the Soul to Himself.

Eagle of the highest Heaven, gentle Lamb, Infolding Fire, Kindle, glow in me. Barren, thirsty, do I seek Thee, Through the ages of desire, One day as a thousand winters, Waiting, Lord, for Thee. Bitterer to the soul that loveth Far from her Beloved to dwell, Than the pit of doom to sinners-- An abyss there is profounder Than the depths of hell.

. . . . . . .

The nightingale she can but sing, For she is made of love's delight, Of love bereft, what else were left Than death and night?

Then spake the spirit to the soul--

"Arise, O Queen, and sing! Behold, He comes, the Beloved One, Behold the Bridegroom King!"

Then spake the soul in joyful fear--

"O blessed Herald, so might it be! For I am faithless, guilty, vile, In Him alone is there rest for me. For me is no home beneath the skies, No summer land, and no resting-place, But the marvellous pity of His eyes, And the sweetness of His Face; And when all around the lights are dim, The heart that sorroweth turns to Him."

The Herald said--

"Thou must watch and wait, And water the earth, and strew the flowers."

But the soul made answer--

"The desolate Must watch in prayer, and must wait in shame, In tears must water, and long for the day; But if as I strew the flowers He came, From myself and my tears I should pass away. For He strikes the chords of the heavenly lyre, And sorrow and sadness turn and flee, And the earthly love, and the earth's desire, In that music sweet depart from me."

The Soul's Desire sent Forth to Seek the Beloved One.

Thus spake the soul to her desire--

"Speed forth afar and see Where may my Beloved be, And say to Him, 'His love I crave.'"

Then fled the swift desire afar, And rose beyond sun, moon, and star, And called before the heavenly door, "Lord, open unto me!"

Then spake the Host--

"What need hast thou, That thou dost thus implore?"

"O Lord, I come with the prayer of one Who weepeth upon the earth alone-- The fish on the sand must pine."

"Go back! no door is unbarred to thee Till thou bring the sorrowful soul to Me, For the need is _Mine_."

Then sped the messenger swiftly home, and said--

"The Master calleth Come! Arise and shine!"

Then she as on summer winds doth rise In joyful flight through the starry skies, And there meet her angels twain; For God hath sent two angels fleet, The well-beloved soul to meet.

And they ask--

"What seekest thou thus afar? With the dark earth art thou clad."

The soul said--

"Greet me better than so, For to Him who loveth me well I go, And I am no more sad. Lo! dimmed as ye near the earth below, Is the sweet light of your eyes; And with light of God do I shine and glow As aloft I rise." Then with an angel on either hand, The soul sped through the skies, And when she came to the angel land, To the country of Paradise, She was a stranger guest no more, For to her was opened the heavenly door, She saw the Beloved Face. Forth flowed her heart in weeping blest, She said, "My Lord, I have found my rest In the glory of Thy grace. I needs must praise Thee and adore, For evermore, for evermore. Whence came I here? I am lost in Thee; I can think no more of the earth below, Nor of the sorrow and weeping there. I had thought to tell Thee my grief and woe, But, Lord, I have seen Thee, and nought I know, But that Thou art fair."

The Complaint of the Loving Soul, and the Answer of God.

"O Lord, too long Thou dost guard and spare This dungeon-house of clay, Where I drink the water of sorrow and care, And the ashes of emptiness are my fare, From day to day."

"Where is thy patience, O My Queen? Let Thy sorrow be sore as it may, I heal it as if it never had been, When I speak, it has passed away. My riches of glory for ever are thine, Thy might has prevailed over Me, For I love thee for ever with love divine; If thou hast the token, the gold is Mine, And I weigh full measure to thee. For all things renounced, and for all things wrought, All sorrow, and all endeavour, I give thee beyond all desire or thought, For I give thee Myself for ever."

How God comes into the Soul.

He comes to me in silent hours, As morning dew to summer flowers.

How the Soul receiveth God, and how God receiveth the Soul.

O sweet enfolding in the Arms divine, O blessed Vision, welcome passing sweet, I bow beneath the joy that I am Thine, A weight of gladness cast I at Thy feet. O heights of God! within Thy clefts I hide, The home where dove and nightingale abide.

"All hail, My dove! on earth below Thou hast roamed afar and long, Until should grow the strong swift wings, That should bear Thee aloft from thy wanderings To the rest and song."

The Soul's fivefold Praise of God.

O blessed God, who pourest forth Thy store; O God, whose love flows on for evermore; O God, whose longing burns eternally; O God, in whom I dwell, whose dwelling is in me; O God, whose rest is in my love-- In Thee alone I live and move.

Of the Soul's Complaint, of the Garden, and of the New Song.

"When mine eyes are dim with weeping, And my tongue with grief is dumb; And it is as if Thou wert sleeping When my heart calleth, 'Come;' When I hunger with bitter hunger, O Lord, for Thee. Where art Thou, then, Beloved? Speak, speak to me." "I am where I was in the ancient days, I in Myself must be; In all things I am, and in every place, For there is no change in Me. Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above,[8] For thee, O Mine own, I wait; I wait for thee in the garden of love, Till thou comest irradiate With the light that shines from My Face divine, And I pluck the flowers for thee; They are thine, beloved, for they are Mine, And thou art one with Me. In the tender grass by the waters still, I have made thy resting-place; Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will, And sure in My changeless grace. And I bend for thee the holy Tree, Where blossoms the mystic Rod; The highest of all the trees that be In the Paradise of God. And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat, Of the Life that is in Me; Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat, And passing fair to see. There overshadowed by mighty wings Of the Holy Spirit's peace, Beyond the sorrow of earthly things, The toil and the tears shall cease. And there beneath the eternal Tree, I will teach thy lips to sing The sweet new song that no man knows In the land of his banishing. They follow the Lamb where'er He goes, To whom it is revealed; The pure and the undefiled are those, The ransomed and the sealed. Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare, And thou shalt sing as they, Not only there in My garden fair, But here, beloved, to-day."

"O Lord, a faint and a feeble voice Is mine in this house of clay, But Thy love hath made my lips rejoice, And I can sing and say, 'I am pure, O Lord, for Thou art pure, Thy love and mine are one; And my robe is white, for Thine is white, And brighter than the sun. Thy mouth and mine can know no moan, No note of man's sad mirth, But the everlasting joy alone, Unknown to songs of earth; And for ever fed on that living Tree, I will sing the song of Thy love with Thee.'"

God's fivefold Comparing of the Soul.

Rose, most fair amidst the briars; Harmless dove, so pure and white; Honey-bee that never tires; Sun of everlasting light; Full fair moon in cloudless skies-- Joy and gladness to Mine eyes.

God's sixfold Delight in the Soul.

O soul, thou art the pillow for My Head, My still sweet rest, My longing deep and strong, My Godhead's joy, My Manhood's solace sweet, My cooling fountain in love's furnace heat, My music, and My song.

Knowledge and Enjoyment.

To love, and not to know, Is through a dark wild land to go; To know, and not possess, Is hell's dread bitterness; Possess, yet not be where Thou art, Hath rent my heart.

The Prayer for Love, and the Answer thereof.

"O Lord my Saviour, love me well, And love me often and long-- Often, that pure my soul may be; Well, that so I be fair to see; Long, and for ever, for Thee apart Shall be my heart."

"That often I love thee needs must be, For I am Love from eternity; And I love thee well, because I long For thy love with a yearning deep and strong; And I love thee long, for no end can be To My divine eternity."

Love unto Death; Love Immeasurable; Love Eternal.

I rejoice that I cannot but love Him, Because He first loved me; I would that measureless, changeless, My love might be; A love unto death, and for ever; For, soul, He died for thee. Give thanks that for thee He delighted To leave His glory on high; For thee to be humbled, forsaken, For thee to die. Wilt thou render Him love for His loving? Wilt thou die for Him who died? And so, by thy living and dying, Shall Christ be magnified. And deep in the fiery stream that flows From God's high throne, In the burning tide that for ever glows Of the marvellous love unknown; For ever, O soul, thou shalt burn and glow, And thou shalt sing and say, "I need no call at His feet to fall, For I cannot turn away. I am the captive led along With the joy of His triumphal song; In the depths of love do I live and move, I joy to live or to die; For I am borne on the tide of love To all eternity: The foolishness of the fool is this, The sorrow sweeter than joy to miss."

God asks the Soul what She brings, and She Answereth.

"What dost thou bring me, O my Queen? Love maketh thy steps to fly."