id="Page_61">[29.13—30.27] it desireth, because of the sorrow and tribulation of the body, except with much labor through faith and hope and love. These are the three anchors which sustain the ship of the mind in the midst of the dashing of the waves. Yet the mind hath much comfort because it believeth and clearly knoweth that the misfortunes and unhappiness of this world are not eternal. So the ship's master,[7] when the ship rideth most unsteadily at anchor and the sea is roughest, then knoweth of a truth that calm weather is coming. Three things are needful to the eyes of each soul: One is that they be whole; the second, that they should look at what they would see; the third, that they may see what they look at. For the three is God's help necessary, for one can neither do good nor any thing without His aid. Therefore He is always to be entreated that He be ever helpful; therefore also He inspireth us and inciteth us first to be well-wishing, and afterwards worketh with us that which He willeth till such time as we perfect it with Him; and especially He worketh with us as with some powerful tool, just as it is written[8] that with each well-working person God is a co-worker. We know that no man can perform any good unless God work with him; howbeit no man must be so idle as not to begin something through the strength that God giveth him.

A. Thou teachest me the right way. Now I know what I ought to do; but I do not know whether I can or can not.

R. Thou oughtest not to despair because thou canst not come at once to that which thou desirest for thyself. Can he who would learn a science ever do so in a short time, a little more or a little less? Thine is the science of all sciences, to wit, that one should seek after God and look toward Him and see Him.

A. Well thou advisest me; but I recall what thou didst formerly promise me, and very joyfully I abide that promise; thou[30.27—32.7] didst promise to teach me how to see God with the eyes of my mind as clearly as I now see the sun with the eyes of my body.

R. Well thou remindest me; I will do for thee what I promised. Call to mind now that thou canst see with thy body's eyes three things in regard to the sun: One is that it existeth; another, that it shineth; the third, that it lighteth up many things with its shining. All the things which are bright, when the sun shineth on them, shine against it, each after its own kind. But those things which are not bright shine not against the sun, although it shineth on them. But the sun shineth, nevertheless, on them, and yet he who looketh toward it can not see it wholly just as it is. All this and more thou canst observe concerning God. He is the high Sun. He always abideth, lighting up with His own light both the sun which we see with bodily eyes and all creatures both spiritual and terrestrial. Therefore he seemeth to me a very foolish man who wisheth to understand Him just as He is, while we are yet in this world. Behold! I suppose that no one is so foolish that he becometh sorrowful because he can not see and understand, just as it is, the sun which we look at with corporeal eyes; but every one rejoiceth that at least he can understand according to the measure of his understanding. He doth well who desireth to understand the Eternal and Almighty Sun; but he doth very foolishly, if he wisheth to know Him perfectly while he is in this world.

A. Very wonderfully and very truly thou teachest, and very much thou hast comforted me and brought me into good hope. But I pray still for what thou aforetime didst promise me.

R. Two things I promised that I would accomplish and teach thee, to wit, to understand God and thyself. But I would know how thou desirest to understand that—whether thou wouldst believe without experience, or know by experience.

A. [32.8—33.19]I would know it by experience, for I know nothing of it surely.

R. That is no wonder. I did not explain it to thee in such wise that thou couldst know it by experience; for there is yet something which thou must first know, to wit, whether we both are whole.

A. Thou must know whether thou findest any health, either in me, or in thyself, or in us both. It becometh thee to teach and me to listen; and it becometh me to answer what I understand according to the measure of my understanding, if so be I understand it at all; if I do not understand it at all, then must I admit it and leave it to thy judgment.

R. Wishest thou to know more than about God and thyself?

A. I answer thee that I do not wish anything more earnestly; but I dare not promise thee that I shall not desire any thing else than that; for it is verily hidden from me, albeit something cometh into my mind which, methinks, nothing can hinder me from furthering and performing. When another thing cometh which seemeth to me more right and reasonable, then I leave off that which I formerly held enough; and therefore at times it happeneth that something is so fixed in my mind, that I think I shall never let it go so long as I live. Howbeit there cometh to me then some trouble which occupieth me so that I can never leave it, nor can I perform it although I can not think of any better [thing to be done].[9] But three things have troubled me most: One is, I fear that I must part with my friends whom I love most, or they with me—either for life or for death; the second is, I fear sickness, both the known and the unknown; the third is, I fear death.

R. I hear now what thou lovest most next to thine own reason and God: They are, the life of thy friends, and thine own health, and thine own life. Of these five things thou art afraid that thou shalt lose some, because thou lovest them[33.19—35.8] all very much. If thou didst not love them, then thou hadst not dreaded that thou wouldst lose them.

A. I admit what thou sayest to me.

R. Therefore methinks that I see thee very sad and greatly cast down in thy mind, because thou hast not such health as thou hadst; nor hast thou all thy friends with thee so agreeable and harmonious as thou wouldst. Nor doth it seem to me any wonder that thou art sad for that reason.

A. Thou understandest it rightly; I can not gainsay that.

R. If then it ever happen that thou shalt find thyself full whole and full strong, and hast all thy friends with thee, both in mind and in body, and in that same work and in that same will which pleaseth thee best to do, wilt thou then be happy at all?

A. Yea, verily; if it should now suddenly happen, I do not know how on earth I would begin.

R. Hast thou not then still some trouble, such as immoderate sorrow, either of mind or of body—seeing now thou hast those two things? Wert thou, therefore, foolish in heart, when thou didst wish that thou shouldst see with such eyes the high and