Chapter V
RICHARD OF ST. VICTOR
in its wandering thoughts the soul may encounter something that it strives strongly to know and pursues that vigorously. But when the mind for the satisfaction of its own desire begins to pursue such inquiry, already, by thinking it goes beyond the mode of thinking, and thinking passes over into meditation. Certainly, it is usual that something similar occurs concerning meditation. For after a certain truth has been sought for a long while and is found at last, the mind usually receives it with strong desire, marvels at it with exultation, and for a long time clings to the wonder of it. Already, this is to go beyond meditation by meditating, and meditation passes over into contemplation. And so, it is the property of contemplation to cling with wonder to the manifestation of its joy. And in this, assuredly, it seems to differ as much from meditation as from thinking. For thinking, as has already been said, always turns aside here and there with a rambling walk, while meditation always aims, with fixed advancement, toward further things.
Chapter V That the mode of contemplation operates in many ways But although that penetrating ray of contemplation is always suspended near something because of greatness of wonder, yet it operates neither always nor uniformly in the same mode. For that vitality of understanding in the soul of a contemplative at one time goes out and comes back with marvelous quickness, at another time bends itself, as it were, into a circle, and yet at another time gathers itself together, as it were, in one place and fixes itself, as it were, motionless. Certainly if we consider this rightly, we see the form of this thing daily in the birds of the sky. Now you may see some raising themselves up on high; now others plunging themselves into lower regions and often repeating the same manner of their ascent and descent. You may see some turning to the side, now to the right, now to the left, and while coming down a little ahead now in this part, now in that, or advancing themselves almost not at all, repeating many times with great constancy the same changes of their movements. You may see others thrust themselves forward in
THE MYSTICAL ARK
great haste. But next, with the same rapidity, they return to the rear, and moving themselves often they continue and prolong, with long-lasting repetition, the same going forth and returning. You may see how others turn themselves in a circle, and how suddenly and how often they repeat the same or a similar path—one time a little wider, another time slightly smaller, yet always returning to the same place. You may see how others suspend themselves for a long time in one and the same place with beating and rapidly vibrating wings and fix themselves motionless by means of agitated motion, as it were. And they do not depart at all from the place where they are suspended, clinging closely for a long time, as if by the performance of the work and of their constancy they might seem, by all means, to exclaim and say:
"It is good for us to be here"
(Matt.
17:4). According to this pattern of proposed similitudes, the flight of our contemplation is varied in many ways and is formed in a varying mode according to the variety of persons and activities.
At one time it rises from the lower to the higher; at another it falls from the higher to the lower. By the quickness of its consideration it moves at one time from the part to the whole; at another time from the whole to the part. And at one time it draws the argument for that which it ought to know from a major premise; at another from a minor. At one moment it turns aside into this part, at another moment into the opposite part; it elicits an idea of contraries from knowledge of contraries, and usually varies the performance of its reasoning according to the differing mode of opposites. At some time it runs forward and quickly runs back when it discerns the quality or mode of anything whatsoever, either from the effects or from the causes and whatever has preceded or followed. But sometimes our speculation is led as it were in a circle, when some things are considered that are in common with many things or when, for the determination of any one thing whatsoever, a reason is drawn and assigned now to similar things, now to things having similar essences or accidents. However, the fixed focus of our consideration is placed in one and the same place, immobile, when the attention of the contemplative gladly remains with the being of any thing whatsoever, in order to observe and marvel at its proper nature. But lest our words seem to have the odor of human philosophy or to fall away from the even tenor of Catholic doctrine
RICHARD OF ST. VICTOR
and simple style, perhaps we shall more fitly say that to rise and fall, to go and return, to turn aside now here, now there, to continue at one time in a circle, and finally to cling together in unity:
This is nothing other than by means of the greatest quickness to pass, in the mind, now from the lowest things to the highest, or from the highest to the lowest; now from the oldest things to the newest or from the newest to the oldest; at one time from unequal to equal kinds of merits and rewards; at another time, to consider with diligent examination the circumstance and connection of everything whatsoever; and finally, at some time, satisfying the soul with the rareness of some speculation and wonder at the rareness.
See, as we have said above, how the activity of our contemplation is always suspended and is drawn forth according to some thing, while the soul of the contemplative gladly remains in the manifestation of its joy and is always eager either to return into itself frequently or to continue immobile in the same place for a long time.
Listen—concerning that mode of contemplation which is accustomed to go forward and back in a certain manner: "The living creatures will go and return in the likeness of flashing lightning"
(Ezech.
1:14). Learn also about that by which the soul is carried away into different things and is driven in opposite directions, running to and fro, now into this part, now into that. "The just shall shine and shall run to and fro, like sparks in a thicket of reeds"
(Wisd.
3:7). The one who moves upward and downward, as it were, is described by the Psalmist in a few words: "They rise all the way to the heavens and they fall all the way into the abyss" (Ps.
106:26). With respect to that mode of contemplation which, for instance, is led in a circle, you are admonished by the prophetic voice where it is said: "Lift up your eyes in a circle and see" (Isa.
60:4). The ray of contemplation is fixed motionless in one place, for example, when anyone experiences in himself Habacuc in that place: "Sun and moon stood still in their dwelling place" (Hab.
3:11). Notice—we have already taught what contemplation is, by determining and defining. It remains for us to divide it according to species, and to see how many kinds of contemplations there are.