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and with much love from the heart it is sought, but having turned and appeared and shone, it benevolently turns away from those who pursue it, and it causes itself to withdraw at times, and that which is much sought is sent away in fear, as if not worthy of the good, which is beyond all creation. O gift, O divine and inexpressible grace! For what does it not work, and what is it not? This is delight and joy, gentleness and peace, innumerable mercy, an abyss of compassion, seen though invisible, contained uncontainably, untouchable though intangible, held in my mind. Having this, I do not see it; but beholding it, I release it quickly, I rush to grasp it, and it flies away completely. I am at a loss and I burn and I learn to ask and to seek with weeping in great humility and not to think that things beyond nature are possible through my own strength and human effort, but through the compassion of God and his infinite mercy. This appears for a short time and withdraws, and it casts out one, just one of the passions from the heart. For a man cannot conquer the passions unless this comes to his aid, (126) nor again does it drive them all out at once. For the soulish man does not have the capacity to receive the whole Spirit at once and become dispassionate, but when he has done all things within his power: nakedness, detachment, separation from his own, the cutting off of his will and the denial of the world, endurance of temptations and prayer and mourning, simplicity, humility, as much as he has the strength. Then for a little while, like a delicate and very small gleam, it suddenly encircles the mind and seizes it in ecstasy, leaving quickly, so that he may not die, so that in its great speed the one who saw it is not permitted even to comprehend or to remember its beauty, lest an infant eat the food of perfect men and immediately be ruptured or harmed and vomit. From then on, therefore, it guides, strengthens, teaches by showing itself and fleeing, when we need it; not when we wish—for that is for the perfect—but when we are at a loss and are utterly exhausted, it comes to our aid, it dawns from afar

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καί τῇ ἀγάπῃ τῇ πολλῇ ἐκ καρδίας ζητεῖται, ἐπιστραφέν δέ καί φανέν καί λάμψαν φιλανθρώπως ἐκκλίνειν τοῖς διώκουσιν, συστέλλεσθαι ποιέ δέ, καί τό πολλά ἐκζητηθέν ἀποπέμπεσθαι φόβῳ, ὡς οὐκ ἀξίως τοῦ καλοῦ, τοῦ ὑπέρ πᾶσαν κτίσιν. Ὤ δώρου, ὤ χαρίσματος θείου καί ἀνεκφράστου! Τί γάρ καί οὐκ ἐργάζεται, τί δέ καί οὐχ ὑπάρχει; Τοῦτο τερπνότης καί χαρά, πρᾳότης καί εἰρήνη, ἔλεος ἀναρίθμητον, ἄβυσσος εὐσπλαγχνίας, ἀόρατον βλεπόμενον, χωρητόν ἀχωρήτως, ἀναφές ἀψηλάφητον, κρατητόν ἐν νοΐ μου. Τοῦτο ἔχων οὐ καθορῶ, θεωρῶν δέ ἀφιέν τάχος ὁρμῶ τοῦ δράξασθαι, καί ἀφίπταται ἅπαν. Ἐξαπορῶ καί φλέγομαι καί μανθάνω αἰτεῖσθαι καί ἐκζητεῖν μετά κλαυθμοῦ ἐν πολλῇ ταπεινώσει καί μή δοκεῖν ὡς δυνατά τά ὑπέρ φύσιν εἶναι καί τῆς ἰσχύος τῆς ἐμῆς καί σπουδῆς ἀνθρωπίνης, ἀλλ᾿ εὐσπλαγχνίας τοῦ Θεοῦ καί ἐλέους ἀπείρου. Τοῦτο χρόνον ὀλίγον φαίνεται καί συστέλλεται, ἕν, ἕν δέ τῶν παθῶν ἐκβάλλει τῆς καρδίας. Οὐ γάρ δύναται ἄνθρωπος ἐκνικῆσαι τά πάθη, εἰ μή συμπαραγένηται εἰς βοήθειαν τοῦτο, (126) οὐδέ πάλιν ἀπό μιᾶς ἅπαντα ἐκδιώκει. Οὐ γάρ εἰσδέξασθαι χωρεῖ αἴφνης ὅλον τό Πνεῦμα ὁ ἄνθρωπος ὁ ψυχικός καί ἀπαθής γενέσθαι, ἀλλ᾿ ὅταν τά εἰς δύναμιν διαπράξηται πάντα˙ γύμνωσιν, ἀπροσπάθειαν, χωρισμόν τῶν ἰδίων, ἐκκοπήν τοῦ θελήματος καί ἄρνησιν τοῦ κόσμου, ὑπομονήν τῶν πειρασμῶν καί προσευχήν καί πένθος, εὐτέλειαν, ταπείνωσιν, ὅσον ἰσχύος ἔχει. Τότε ὀλίγον ὡς λεπτή αἴγλη καί σμικροτάτη αἴφνης τόν νοῦν κυκλώσσα εἰς ἔκστασιν ἁρπάζει, καταλιμπάνουσα ταχύ, ἵνα μή ἀποθάνῃ, ὥστε τῷ τάχει τῷ πολλῷ μηδέ κατανοῆσαι, μή κάλλους μνημονεύειν τε συγχωρεῖν τόν ἰδόντα, ἵνα μή φάγῃ νήπιος τροφήν ἀνδρῶν τελείων καί παρ᾿ εὐθύ διαρραγῇ ἤ βλαβῇ καί ἐμέσῃ. Ἔκτοτε οὖν χειραγωγεῖ, ἐνισχύει, διδάσκει δεικνυμένη καί φεύγουσα, ὅτε χρῄζομεν ταύτης˙ οὐχ ὅταν ἡμεῖς θέλωμεν - τοῦτο γάρ τῶν τελείων , ἀλλ᾿ ὅταν ἀπορήσωμεν καί ἐκλυθῶμεν ὅλως, ἔρχεται εἰς βοήθειαν, ἀνατέλλει μακρόθεν