CHAPTER XI.

Of the words “Sursum corda.”

HE was once asked what was the subject of his contemplation when he sang mass and in toned the words “Sursum corda,” at the beginning of the preface before the Canon. Now these words mean in the vulgar tongue, “Lift 39up all hearts on high to God;” and they came forth from his mouth with such an expression of ardent desire, that it may well have moved to peculiar devotion those who heard them. He answered this question with a deep sigh, saying:—When I sing these adorable words in the holy mass, it usually happens that my heart and soul are melted with a yearning and longing after God which carry away my heart out of itself at that moment; for three different intentions commonly present themselves to me then, and lift me up on high—sometimes one alone, sometimes two, and sometimes all three together—and they bear me upwards into God, and with me all creatures.

The first intention, that darts like a ray of light into my mind, is this:—I place before my inward eyes myself with all that I am—my body, soul, and all my powers—and I gather round me all the creatures which God ever created in heaven, on earth, and in all the elements, each one severally with its name, whether birds of the air, beasts of the forest, fishes of the water, leaves and grass of the earth, or the innumerable sand of the sea, and to these I add all the little specks of dust which glance in the sun beams, with all the little drops of water which 40ever fell or are falling from dew, snow, or rain, and I wish that each of these had a sweetly-sounding stringed instrument, fashioned from my heart’s inmost blood, striking on which they might each send up to our dear and gentle God a new and lofty strain of praise for ever and ever. And then the loving arms of my soul stretch out and extend themselves towards the innumerable multitude of all creatures, and my intention is, just as a free and blithesome leader of a choir stirs up the singers of his company, even so to turn them all to good account by inciting them to sing joyously, and to offer up their hearts to God. “Sursum corda.”

His second intention, he said, was this:—I put before myself in thought my own heart and the hearts of all men, and I consider on the one hand what joy and pleasure, what love and peace they enjoy who give their hearts to God alone; and, on the other, what hurt and suffering, what sorrow and unrest perishable love brings to those over whom it rules; and then I cry out with earnest desire to my own heart, and the hearts of all men, wheresoever they be, from one end of this world to the other:—Come forth, ye captive hearts, from the strait bonds of perishable love! Come forth, ye sleeping 41hearts, from the death of sin! Come forth, ye frivolous hearts, from the lukewarmness of your slothful and careless lives! Lift yourselves up by turning wholly and unreservedly to the living God. “Sursum corda.”

His third intention was a friendly call to all well-disposed but undetached men, who go astray in their interior life, and cling closely neither to God nor to creatures, because their hearts are distracted and drawn to one side or the other at every moment. These men, and myself among their number, I then invite to make a bold venture of ourselves, by turning away entirely from ourselves and every creature unto God. Such was the subject of his contemplation in the words “Sursum corda.”