THE DARK NIGHT

An explanation of the stanzas describing a soul's conduct along the 
spiritual road that leads to the perfect union with God through love, 
insofar as it is attainable in this life. A description also of the 
characteristics of one who has reached this perfection.



PROLOGUE FOR THE READER

P. In this book we will first cite the entire poem, then each stanza will 
be repeated separately and explained, and finally we will do the same thing 
with the individual verses.

P.(2). The first two stanzas describe the effects of the two kinds of 
spiritual purgation that take place in a person: one, a purification of the 
sensory part; the other, a purification of the spiritual part. The 
remaining six stanzas speak of some of the marvelous results obtained from 
spiritual illumination and union with God through love.



	STANZAS OF THE SOUL

		1. One dark night,
		fired with love's urgent longings
		  -- ah, the sheer grace! -- 
 		I went out unseen,
		my house being now all stilled.
		
		2. In darkness, and secure,
	  	by the secret ladder, disguised,
		 -- ah, the sheer grace! -- 
		in darkness and concealment,
		my house being now all stilled.

		3. On that glad night,
	  	in secret, for no one saw me,
		nor did I look at anything,
		with no other light or guide
		than the one that burned in my heart.

		4. This guided me
	     	more surely than the light of noon
		to where he was awaiting me
		 -- him I knew so well -- 
		there in a place where no one appeared.

		5. O guiding night!
	  	O night more lovely than the dawn!
		O night that has united
		the Lover with his beloved,
		transforming the beloved in her Lover.

		6. Upon my flowering breast
	  	which I kept wholly for him alone,
		there he lay sleeping,
		and I caressing him
		there in a breeze from the fanning cedars.

		7. When the breeze blew from the turret,
	  	as I parted his hair,
	  	it wounded my neck
		with its gentle hand,
		suspending all my senses.

		8. I abandoned and forgot myself,
	  	laying my face on my Beloved;
		all things ceased; I went out from myself,
		leaving my cares
		forgotten among the lilies.

P.(3). Beginning of the explanation of the stanzas that deal with the way a 
soul must conduct itself along the road leading to union with God through 
love, by Padre Fray John of the Cross.

 P.(4). Before embarking on an explanation of these stanzas, we should 
remember that the soul recites them when it has already reached the state 
of perfection -- that is, union with God through love -- and has now passed 
through severe trials and conflicts by means of the spiritual exercise that 
leads one along the constricted way to eternal life, of which our Savior 
speaks in the Gospel [Mt. 7:14]. The soul must ordinarily walk this path to 
reach that sublime and joyous union with God. Recognizing the narrowness of 
the path and the fact that so very few tread it -- as the Lord himself says 
[Mt. 7:14] -- the soul's song in this first stanza is one of happiness in 
having advanced along it to this perfection of love. Appropriately, this 
constricted road is called a dark night, as we shall explain in later 
verses of this stanza. The soul, therefore, happy at having trod this 
narrow road from which it derived so much good, speaks in this manner:



BOOK ONE  [A treatise on the night of the senses]

  		          One dark night,
		          fired with love's urgent longings
		           -- ah, the sheer grace! -- 
 		          I went out unseen,
 		          my house being now all stilled.

[Explanation]

E.1. In this first stanza, the soul speaks of the way it followed in its 
departure from love of both self and all things. Through a method of true 
mortification, it died to all these things and to itself. It did this so as 
to reach the sweet and delightful life of love with God. And it declares 
that this departure was a dark night. As we will explain later,1 this dark 
night signifies here purgative contemplation, which passively causes in the 
soul this negation of self and of all things.

E.2. The soul states that it was able to make this escape because of the 
strength and warmth gained from loving its Bridegroom in this obscure 
contemplation. It emphasizes its good fortune in having journeyed to God 
through this dark night. So great was the soul's success that none of the 
three enemies (the world, the devil, and the flesh, which are always in 
opposition to the journey along this road) could impede it, for that night 
of purifying contemplation lulled to sleep and deadened all the inordinate 
movements of the passions and appetites in the house of sense. The verse 
then states:

			One dark night,



CHAPTER 1


1. Quotes the first verse and begins to discuss the imperfections of 
beginners.

1.1. Souls begin to enter this dark night when God, gradually drawing them 
out of the state of beginners (those who practice meditation on the 
spiritual road), begins to place them in the state of proficients (those 
who are already contemplatives), so that by passing through this state they 
might reach that of the perfect, which is the divine union of the soul with 
God.

1.1.(2). We should first mention here some characteristics of beginners, 
for the sake of a better explanation and understanding of the nature of 
this night and of God's motive for placing the soul in it. Although our 
treatment of these things will be as brief as possible, it will help 
beginners understand the feebleness of their state and take courage and 
desire that God place them in this night where the soul is strengthened in 
virtue and fortified for the inestimable delights of the love of God. And, 
although we will be delayed for a moment, it will be for no longer than our 
discussion of this dark night requires.

1.2. It should be known, then, that God nurtures and caresses the soul, 
after it has been resolutely converted to his service, like a loving mother 
who warms her child with the heat of her bosom, nurses it with good milk 
and tender food, and carries and caresses it in her arms. But as the child 
grows older, the mother withholds her caresses and hides her tender love; 
she rubs bitter aloes on her sweet breast and sets the child down from her 
arms, letting it walk on its own feet so that it may put aside the habits 
of childhood and grow accustomed to greater and more important things. The 
grace of God acts just as a loving mother by re-engendering in the soul new 
enthusiasm and fervor in the service of God. With no effort on the soul's 
part, this grace causes it to taste sweet and delectable milk and to 
experience intense satisfaction in the performance of spiritual exercises, 
because God is handing the breast of his tender love to the soul, just as 
if it were a delicate child [1 Pt. 2:2-3].1

1.3. The soul finds its joy, therefore, in spending lengthy periods at 
prayer, perhaps even entire nights; its penances are pleasures; its fasts, 
happiness; and the sacraments and spiritual conversations are its 
consolations. Although spiritual persons do practice these exercises with 
great profit and persistence, and are very careful about them, spiritually 
speaking, they conduct themselves in a very weak and imperfect manner. 
Since their motivation in their spiritual works and exercises is the 
consolation and satisfaction they experience in them, and since they have 
not been conditioned by the arduous struggle of practicing virtue, they 
possess many faults and imperfections in the discharge of their spiritual 
activities. Assuredly, since everyone's actions are in direct conformity 
with the habit of perfection that has been acquired, and since these 
persons have not had time to acquire those firm habits, their work must of 
necessity be feeble, like that of weak children.

1.3.(2). For a clearer understanding of this and of how truly imperfect 
beginners are, insofar as they practice virtue readily because of the 
satisfaction attached to it, we will describe, using the seven capital 
vices as our basis, some of the numerous imperfections beginners commit. 
Thus we will clearly see how very similar their deeds are to those of 
children. The benefits of the dark night will become evident, since it 
cleanses and purifies the soul of all these imperfections. 



CHAPTER 2


2. Some of the imperfections of pride possessed by beginners.

2.1. These beginners feel so fervent and diligent in their spiritual 
exercises and undertakings that a certain kind of secret pride is generated 
in them that begets a complacency with themselves and their 
accomplishments, even though holy works do of their very nature cause 
humility. Then they develop a somewhat vain -- at times very vain -- desire 
to speak of spiritual things in others' presence, and sometimes even to 
instruct rather than be instructed; in their hearts they condemn others who 
do not seem to have the kind of devotion they would like them to have, and 
sometimes they give expression to this criticism like the pharisee who 
despised the publican while he boasted and praised God for the good deeds 
he himself accomplished [Lk. 18:11-12].1

2.2. The devil, desiring the growth of pride and presumption in these 
beginners, often increases their fervor and readiness to perform such 
works, and other ones, too. For he is quite aware that all these works and 
virtues are not only worthless for them, but even become vices. Some of 
these persons become so evil-minded that they do not want anyone except 
themselves to appear holy; and so by both word and deed they condemn and 
detract others whenever the occasion arises, seeing the little splinter in 
their brother's eye and failing to consider the wooden beam in their own 
eye [Mt. 7:3]; they strain at the other's gnat and swallow their own camel 
[Mt. 23:24].

2.3. And when at times their spiritual directors, their confessors, or 
their superiors disapprove their spirit and method of procedure, they feel 
that these directors do not understand, or perhaps that this failure to 
approve derives from a lack of holiness, since they want these directors to 
regard their conduct with esteem and praise. So they quickly search for 
some other spiritual advisor more to their liking, someone who will 
congratulate them and be impressed by their deeds; and they flee, as they 
would death, those who attempt to place them on the safe road by forbidding 
these things -- and sometimes they even become hostile toward such 
spiritual directors. Frequently, in their presumption, they make many 
resolutions but accomplish very little. Sometimes they want others to 
recognize their spirit and devotion, and as a result occasionally contrive 
to make some manifestations of it, such as movements, sighs, and other 
ceremonies; sometimes, with the assistance of the devil, they experience 
raptures, more often in public than in private, and they are quite pleased, 
and often eager, for others to take notice of these.

2.4. Many want to be the favorites of their confessors, and thus they are 
consumed by a thousand envies and disquietudes. Embarrassment forbids them 
from relating their sins clearly, lest their reputation diminish in their 
confessor's eyes. They confess their sins in the most favorable light so as 
to appear better than they actually are, and thus they approach the 
confessional to excuse themselves rather than accuse themselves. Sometimes 
they confess the evil things they do to a different confessor so that their 
own confessor might think they commit no sins at all. Therefore, in their 
desire to appear holy, they enjoy relating their good behavior to their 
confessor, and in such careful terms that these good deeds appear greater 
than they actually are. It would be more humble of them, as we will point 
out later,2 to make light of the good they do and to wish that no one, 
neither their confessor nor anybody else, should consider it of any 
importance at all.

2.5. Sometimes they minimize their faults, and at other times they become 
discouraged by them, since they felt they were already saints, and they 
become impatient and angry with themselves, which is yet another fault.

2.5.(2). They are often extremely anxious that God remove their faults and 
imperfections, but their motive is personal peace rather than God. They 
fail to realize that were God to remove their faults they might very well 
become more proud and presumptuous.

2.5.(3). They dislike praising anyone else, but they love to receive 
praise, and sometimes they even seek it. In this they resemble the foolish 
virgins who had to seek oil from others when their own lamps were 
extinguished [Mt. 25:8].

2.6. The number of these imperfections is serious in some people and causes 
them a good deal of harm. Some have fewer, some have more, and yet others 
have little more than the first movements toward them. But there are 
scarcely any beginners who at the time of their initial fervor do not fall 
victim to some of these imperfections.

2.6.(2). But souls who are advancing in perfection at this time act in an 
entirely different manner and with a different quality of spirit.  They 
receive great benefit from their humility, by which they not only place 
little importance on their deeds, but also take very little self-
satisfaction from them. They think everyone else is far better than they 
are, and usually possess a holy envy of them and would like to emulate 
their service of God. Since they are truly humble, their growing fervor and 
the increased number of their good deeds and the gratification they receive 
from them only cause them to become more aware of their debt to God and the 
inadequacy of their service to him, and thus the more they do, the less 
satisfaction they derive from it. Their charity and love makes them want to 
do so much for God that what they actually do accomplish seems as nothing. 
This loving solicitude goads them, preoccupies them, and absorbs them to 
such an extent that they never notice what others do or do not accomplish, 
but if they should, they then think, as I say, that everyone is better than 
they. They think they themselves are insignificant, and want others to 
think this also and to belittle and slight their deeds. Moreover, even 
though others do praise and value their works, these souls are unable to 
believe them; such praises seem strange to them.

2.7. These souls humbly and tranquilly long to be taught by anyone who 
might be a help to them. This desire is the exact opposite of that other 
desire we mentioned above, of those who want to be themselves the teachers 
in everything. When these others notice that someone is trying to give them 
some instruction, they themselves take the words from their very mouths as 
though they already know everything.

 2.7.(2). Yet these humble souls, far from desiring to be anyone's teacher, 
are ready to take a road different from the one they are following, if told 
to do so. For they do not believe they could ever be right themselves. They 
rejoice when others receive praise, and their only sorrow is that they do 
not serve God as these others do. Because they consider their deeds 
insignificant, they do not want to make them known. They are even ashamed 
to speak of them to their spiritual directors because they think these 
deeds are not worth mentioning. They are more eager to speak of their 
faults and sins, and reveal these to others, than of their virtues. They 
have an inclination to seek direction from one who will have less esteem 
for their spirit and deeds. Such is the characteristic of a pure and simple 
and true spirit, one very pleasing to God. Since the wise Spirit of God 
dwells within these humble souls, he moves them to keep these treasures 
hidden, and to manifest only their faults. God gives this grace to the 
humble, together with the other virtues, just as he denies it to the proud.

2.8. These souls would give their life's blood to anyone who serves God, 
and they will do whatever they can to help others serve him. When they see 
themselves fall into imperfections, they suffer this with humility, with 
docility of spirit, and with loving fear of God and hope in him.

 2.8.(2). Yet I believe very few souls are so perfect in the beginning. We 
would be happy enough if they managed not to fall into these imperfections 
of pride. As we will point out later, then, God places these souls in the 
dark night so as to purify them of these imperfections and make them 
advance.



CHAPTER 3


3. Some imperfections of spiritual avarice commonly found in beginners.

3.1. Many beginners also at times possess great spiritual avarice. They 
hardly ever seem content with the spirit God gives them. They become 
unhappy and peevish because they don't find the consolation they want in 
spiritual things. Many never have enough of hearing counsels, or learning 
spiritual maxims, or keeping them and reading books about them. They spend 
more time in these than in striving after mortification and the perfection 
of the interior poverty to which they are obliged.

3.1.(2). Furthermore, they weigh themselves down with overdecorated images 
and rosaries. They now put these down, now take up others; at one moment 
they are exchanging, and at the next re-exchanging. Now they want this 
kind, now they want another. And they prefer one cross to another because 
of its elaborateness. Others you see who are decked out in agnusdeis and 
relics and lists of saints' names, like children in trinkets.1 

3.1.(3). What I condemn in this is possessiveness of heart and attachment 
to the number, workmanship, and overdecoration of these objects. For this 
attachment is contrary to poverty of spirit, which is intent only on the 
substance of the devotion, benefits by no more than what procures this 
sufficiently, and tires of all other multiplicity and elaborate 
ornamentation. Since true devotion comes from the heart and looks only to 
the truth and substance represented by spiritual objects, and since 
everything else is imperfect attachment and possessiveness, any appetite 
for these things must be uprooted if some degree of perfection is to be 
reached.

3.2. I knew a person who for more than ten years profited by a cross 
roughly made out of a blessed palm and held together by a pin twisted 
around it. That person carried it about and never would part with it until 
I took it -- and the person was not someone of poor judgment or little 
intelligence. I saw someone else who prayed with beads made out of bones 
from the spine of a fish. Certainly, the devotion was not for this reason 
less precious in the sight of God.2  In neither of these two instances, 
obviously, did these persons base their devotion on the workmanship and 
value of a spiritual object.

3.2.(2). They, therefore, who are well guided from the outset do not become 
attached to visible instruments or burden themselves with them. They do not 
care to know any more than is necessary to accomplish good works, because 
their eyes are fixed only on God, on being his friend and pleasing him; 
this is what they long for. They very generously give all they have. Their 
pleasure is to know how to live for love of God or neighbor without these 
spiritual or temporal things. As I say, they set their eyes on the 
substance of interior perfection, on pleasing God and not themselves. 

3.3. Yet until a soul is placed by God in the passive purgation of that 
dark night, which we will soon explain, it cannot purify itself completely 
of these imperfections or others. But people should insofar as possible 
strive to do their part in purifying and perfecting themselves and thereby 
merit God's divine cure. In this cure God will heal them of what through 
their own efforts they were unable to remedy. No matter how much 
individuals do through their own efforts, they cannot actively purify 
themselves enough to be disposed in the least degree for the divine union 
of the perfection of love. God must take over and purge them in that fire 
that is dark for them, as we will explain.



CHAPTER 4 


4. The imperfections of lust, the third capital vice, usually found in 
beginners. 

4.1. A number of these beginners have many more imperfections in each vice 
than those I am mentioning. But to avoid prolixity, I am omitting them and 
touching on some principal ones that are as it were the origin of the 
others. 

4.1.(2). As for the vice of lust -- aside from what it means for spiritual 
persons to fall into this vice, since my intent is to treat of the 
imperfections that have to be purged by means of the dark night -- 
spiritual persons have numerous imperfections, many of which can be called 
spiritual lust, not because the lust is spiritual but because it proceeds 
from spiritual things. It happens frequently that in a person's spiritual 
exercises themselves, without the person being able to avoid it, impure 
movements will be experienced in the sensory part of the soul, and even 
sometimes when the spirit is deep in prayer or when receiving the 
sacraments of Penance or the Eucharist. These impure feelings arise from 
any of three causes outside one's control.1 

4.2. First, they often proceed from the pleasure human nature finds in 
spiritual exercises. Since both the spiritual and the sensory part of the 
soul receive gratification from that refreshment, each part experiences 
delight according to its own nature and properties. The spirit, the 
superior part of the soul, experiences renewal and satisfaction in God; and 
the sense, the lower part, feels sensory gratification and delight because 
it is ignorant of how to get anything else, and hence takes whatever is 
nearest, which is the impure sensory satisfaction. It may happen that while 
a soul is with God in deep spiritual prayer, it will conversely passively 
experience sensual rebellions, movements, and acts in the senses, not 
without its own great displeasure. 

4.2.(2). This frequently happens at the time of Communion. Since the soul 
receives joy and gladness in this act of love -- for the Lord grants the 
grace and gives himself for this reason -- the sensory part also takes its 
share, as we said, according to its mode. Since, after all, these two parts 
form one suppositum, each one usually shares according to its mode in what 
the other receives. As the Philosopher says: Whatever is received, is 
received according to the mode of the receiver.2 Because in the initial 
stages of the spiritual life, and even more advanced ones, the sensory part 
of the soul is imperfect, God's spirit is frequently received in this 
sensory part with this same imperfection. Once the sensory part is reformed 
through the purgation of the dark night, it no longer has these 
infirmities. Then the spiritual part of the soul, rather than the sensory 
part, receives God's spirit, and the soul thus receives everything 
according to the mode of the spirit.

4.3. The second origin of these rebellions is the devil. To bring 
disquietude and disturbance on a soul when it is praying, or trying to 
pray, he endeavors to excite impure feelings in the sensory part. And if 
people pay any attention to these, the devil does them great harm. Through 
fear, some souls grow slack in their prayer -- which is what the devil 
wants -- in order to struggle against these movements, and others give it 
up entirely, for they think these feelings come while they are engaged in 
prayer rather than at other times. And this is true because the devil 
excites these feelings while souls are at prayer, instead of when they are 
engaged in other works, so that they might abandon prayer. And that is not 
all; to make them cowardly and afraid, he brings vividly to their minds 
foul and impure thoughts. And sometimes the thoughts will concern 
spiritually helpful things and persons. Those who attribute any importance 
to such thoughts, therefore, do not even dare look at anything or think 
about anything lest they thereupon stumble into them. 

4.3.(2). These impure thoughts so affect people who are afflicted with 
melancholia that one should have great pity for them; indeed, these people 
suffer a sad life. In some who are troubled with this bad humor the trial 
reaches such a point that they clearly feel that the devil has access to 
them without their having the freedom to prevent it. Yet some of these 
melancholiacs are able through intense effort and struggle to forestall 
this power of the devil. If these impure thoughts and feelings arise from 
melancholia, individuals are not ordinarily freed from them until they are 
cured of that humor -- unless they enter the dark night, which in time 
deprives them of everything.3

4.4. The third origin from which these impure feelings usually proceed and 
wage war on the soul is the latter's fear of them. The fear that springs up 
at the sudden remembrance of these thoughts, caused by what one sees, is 
dealing with, or thinking of, produces impure feelings without the person 
being at fault.

4.5. Some people are so delicate that when gratification is received 
spiritually, or in prayer, they immediately experience a lust that so 
inebriates them and caresses their senses that they become as it were 
engulfed in the delight and satisfaction of that vice; and this experience 
continues passively with the other. Sometimes these individuals become 
aware that certain impure and rebellious acts have taken place. The reason 
for such occurrences is that since these natures are, as I say, delicate 
and tender, their humors and blood are stirred up by any change. These 
persons also experience such feelings when they are inflamed with anger or 
are agitated by some other disturbance or affliction.

4.6. Sometimes, too, in their spiritual conversations or works, they 
manifest a certain sprightliness and gallantry on considering who is 
present, and they carry on with a kind of vain satisfaction. Such behavior 
is also a by-product of spiritual lust (in the way we here understand it), 
which generally accompanies complacency of the will.

4.7. Some spiritually acquire a liking for other individuals that often 
arises from lust rather than from the spirit. This lustful origin will be 
recognized if, on recalling that affection, there is remorse of conscience, 
not an increase in the remembrance and love of God. The affection is purely 
spiritual if the love of God grows when it grows, or if the love of God is 
remembered as often as the affection is remembered, or if the affection 
gives the soul a desire for God -- if by growing in one the soul grows also 
in the other. For this is a trait of God's spirit: The good increases with 
the good since there is likeness and conformity between them. But when the 
love is born of this sensual vice it has the contrary effects. As the one 
love grows greater, the other lessens, and the remembrance of it lessens 
too. If the inordinate love increases, then, as will be seen, the soul 
grows cold in the love of God and, because of the recollection of that 
other love, forgets him -- not without feeling some remorse of conscience. 
On the other hand, as the love of God increases, the soul grows cold in the 
inordinate affection and comes to forget it. For not only do these loves 
fail to benefit each other, but, since they are contrary loves, the 
predominating one, while becoming stronger itself, stifles and extinguishes 
the other, as the philosophers say.4 Hence our Savior proclaimed in the 
Gospel: That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of 
the spirit is spirit [Jn. 3:6], that is: Love derived from sensuality 
terminates in sensuality, and the love that is of the spirit terminates in 
the spirit of God, and brings it increase. And this, then, is the 
difference between these two loves, which enables us to discern one from 
the other.

4.8. When the soul enters the dark night, all these loves are placed in 
reasonable order. This night strengthens and purifies the love that is of 
God, and takes away and destroys the other. But in the beginning it causes 
the soul to lose sight of both of them, as will be explained.



CHAPTER 5


5. The imperfections of the capital vice of anger into which beginners 
fall.

5.1. Because of the strong desire of many beginners for spiritual 
gratification, they usually have many imperfections of anger. When the 
delight and satisfaction procured in their spiritual exercises passes, 
these beginners are naturally left without any spiritual savor. And because 
of this distastefulness, they become peevish in the works they do and 
easily angered by the least thing, and occasionally they are so unbearable 
that nobody can put up with them. This frequently occurs after they have 
experienced in prayer some recollection pleasant to the senses. 

5.1.(2). After the delight and satisfaction are gone, the sensory part of 
the soul is naturally left vapid and zestless, just as a child is when 
withdrawn from the sweet breast. These souls are not at fault if they do 
not allow this dejection to influence them, for it is an imperfection that 
must be purged through the dryness and distress of the dark night.

5.2. Among these spiritual persons there are also those who fall into 
another kind of spiritual anger. Through a certain indiscreet zeal they 
become angry over the sins of others, reprove these others, and sometimes 
even feel the impulse to do so angrily, which in fact they occasionally do, 
setting themselves up as lords of virtue. All such conduct is contrary to 
spiritual meekness.

5.3. Others, in becoming aware of their own imperfections, grow angry with 
themselves in an unhumble impatience. So impatient are they about these 
imperfections that they want to become saints in a day. Many of these 
beginners make numerous plans and great resolutions, but since they are not 
humble and have no distrust of themselves, the more resolves they make the 
more they break, and the greater becomes their anger. They do not have the 
patience to wait until God gives them what they need, when he so desires. 
Their attitude is contrary to spiritual meekness and can only be remedied 
by the purgation of the dark night. Some, however, are so patient about 
their desire for advancement that God would prefer to see them a little 
less so.



CHAPTER 6


6. The imperfections of spiritual gluttony.

6.1. A great deal can be said on spiritual gluttony, the fourth vice. There 
are hardly any persons among these beginners, no matter how excellent their 
conduct, who do not fall into some of the many imperfections of this vice. 
These imperfections arise because of the delight beginners find in their 
spiritual exercises. 

6.1.(2). Many, lured by the delight and satisfaction procured in their 
religious practices, strive more for spiritual savor than for spiritual 
purity and discretion; yet it is this purity and discretion that God looks 
for and finds acceptable throughout a soul's entire spiritual journey. 
Besides the imperfection of seeking after these delights, the sweetness 
these persons experience makes them go to extremes and pass beyond the mean 
in which virtue resides and is acquired. Some, attracted by the delight 
they feel in their spiritual exercises, kill themselves with penances, and 
others weaken themselves by fasts and, without the counsel or command of 
another, overtax their weakness; indeed, they try to hide these penances 
from the one to whom they owe obedience in such matters. Some even dare 
perform these penances contrary to obedience.

6.2. Such individuals are unreasonable and most imperfect. They subordinate 
submissiveness and obedience (which is a penance of reason and discretion, 
and consequently a sacrifice more pleasing and acceptable to God) to 
corporeal penance. But corporeal penance without obedience is no more than 
a penance of beasts. And like beasts, they are motivated in these penances 
by an appetite for the pleasure they find in them. Since all extremes are 
vicious and since by such behavior these persons are doing their own will, 
they grow in vice rather than in virtue. For through this conduct they at 
least become spiritually gluttonous and proud, since they do not tread the 
path of obedience. 

6.2.(2). The devil, increasing the delights and appetites of these 
beginners and thereby stirring up this gluttony in them, so impels many of 
them that when they are unable to avoid obedience they either add to, 
change, or modify what was commanded. Any obedience in this matter is 
distasteful to them. Some reach such a point that the mere obligation of 
obedience to perform their spiritual exercises makes them lose all desire 
and devotion. Their only yearning and satisfaction is to do what they feel 
inclined to do, whereas it would be better in all likelihood for them not 
to do this at all.

6.3. Some are very insistent that their spiritual director allow them to do 
what they themselves want to do, and finally almost force the permission 
from him. And if they do not get what they want, they become sad and go 
about like testy children. They are under the impression that they do not 
serve God when they are not allowed to do what they want. Since they take 
gratification and their own will as their support and their god, they 
become sad, weak, and discouraged when their director takes these from them 
and desires that they do God's will. They think that gratifying and 
satisfying themselves is serving and satisfying God.

6.4. Others, too, because of this sweetness, have so little knowledge of 
their own lowliness and misery and such lack of the loving fear and respect 
they owe to God's grandeur that they do not hesitate to insist boldly that 
their confessors allow them the frequent reception of Communion. And worse 
than this, they often dare to receive Communion without the permission and 
advice of the minister and dispenser of Christ. They are guided here solely 
by their own opinion, and they endeavor to hide the truth from him. As a 
result, with their hearts set on frequent Communion, they make their 
confessions carelessly, more eager just to receive Communion than to 
receive it with a pure and perfect heart. It would be sounder and holier of 
them to have the contrary inclination and to ask their confessor not to let 
them receive Communion so frequently. Humble resignation, though, is better 
than either of these two attitudes. But the boldnesses referred to first 
will bring great evil and chastisement on one.

6.5. In receiving Communion they spend all their time trying to get some 
feeling and satisfaction rather than humbly praising and reverencing God 
dwelling within them. And they go about this in such a way that, if they do 
not procure any sensible feeling and satisfaction, they think they have 
accomplished nothing. As a result they judge very poorly of God and fail to 
understand that the sensory benefits are the least among those that this 
most blessed Sacrament bestows, for the invisible grace it gives is a 
greater blessing. God often withdraws sensory delight and pleasure so that 
souls might set the eyes of faith on this invisible grace. Not only in 
receiving Communion, but in other spiritual exercises as well, beginners 
desire to feel God and taste him as if he were comprehensible and 
accessible. This desire is a serious imperfection and, because it involves 
impurity of faith, is opposed to God's way.

6.6. They have the same defect in their prayer, for they think the whole 
matter of prayer consists in looking for sensory satisfaction and devotion. 
They strive to procure this by their own efforts, and tire and weary their 
heads and their faculties. When they do not get this sensible comfort, they 
become very disconsolate and think they have done nothing. Because of their 
aim they lose true devotion and spirit, which lie in distrust of self and 
in humble and patient perseverance so as to please God. Once they do not 
find delight in prayer, or in any other spiritual exercise, they feel 
extreme reluctance and repugnance in returning to it and sometimes even 
give it up. For after all, as was mentioned,1 they are like children who 
are prompted to act not by reason but by pleasure. 

6.6.(2). All their time is spent looking for satisfaction and spiritual 
consolation; they can never read enough spiritual books, and one minute 
they are meditating on one subject and the next on another, always hunting 
for some gratification in the things of God. God very rightly and 
discreetly and lovingly denies this satisfaction to these beginners. If he 
did not, they would fall into innumerable evils because of their spiritual 
gluttony and craving for sweetness. This is why it is important for these 
beginners to enter the dark night and be purged of this childishness.2

6.7. Those who are inclined toward these delights have also another serious 
imperfection, which is that they are weak and remiss in treading the rough 
way of the cross. A soul given up to pleasure naturally feels aversion 
toward the bitterness of self-denial.

6.8. These people incur many other imperfections because of this spiritual 
gluttony, of which the Lord in time will cure them through temptations, 
aridities, and other trials, which are all a part of the dark night. So as 
not to be too lengthy, I do not want to discuss these imperfections any 
more, but only point out that spiritual sobriety and temperance beget 
another very different quality, one of mortification, fear, and 
submissiveness in all things. Individuals thereby become aware that the 
perfection and value of their works do not depend on quantity or the 
satisfaction found in them but on knowing how to practice self-denial in 
them. These beginners ought to do their part in striving after this self-
denial until God in fact brings them into the dark night and purifies them. 
In order to get to our discussion of this dark night, I am passing over 
these imperfections hurriedly.



CHAPTER 7


7. The imperfections of spiritual envy and sloth.

7.1. As for the other two vices, spiritual envy and sloth, these beginners 
also have many imperfections. In regard to envy, many of them feel sad 
about the spiritual good of others and experience sensible grief in noting 
that their neighbor is ahead of them on the road to perfection, and they do 
not want to hear others praised. Learning of the virtues of others makes 
them sad. They cannot bear to hear others being praised without 
contradicting and undoing these compliments as much as possible. Their 
annoyance grows because they themselves do not receive these plaudits and 
because they long for preference in everything. All of this is contrary to 
charity, which, as St. Paul says, rejoices in the truth [1 Cor. 13:6]. If 
any envy accompanies charity, it is a holy envy by which they become sad at 
not having the virtues of others, rejoice that others have them, and are 
happy that all others are ahead of them in the service of God, since they 
themselves are so wanting in his service.

7.2. Also, regarding spiritual sloth, these beginners usually become weary 
in exercises that are more spiritual and flee from them since these 
exercises are contrary to sensory satisfaction. Since they are so used to 
finding delight in spiritual practices, they become bored when they do not 
find it. If they do not receive in prayer the satisfaction they crave -- 
for after all it is fit that God withdraw this so as to try them -- they do 
not want to return to it, or at times they either give up prayer or go to 
it begrudgingly. Because of their sloth, they subordinate the way of 
perfection (which requires denying one's own will and satisfaction for God) 
to the pleasure and delight of their own will. As a result they strive to 
satisfy their own will rather than God's.

7.3. Many of these beginners want God to desire what they want, and they 
become sad if they have to desire God's will. They feel an aversion toward 
adapting their will to God's. Hence they frequently believe that what is 
not their will, or brings them no satisfaction, is not God's will, and, on 
the other hand, that if they are satisfied, God is too. They measure God by 
themselves and not themselves by God, which is in opposition to his 
teaching in the Gospel that those who lose their life for his sake will 
gain it and those who desire to gain it will lose it [Mt. 16:25]. 

7.4. Beginners also become bored when told to do something unpleasant. 
Because they look for spiritual gratifications and delights, they are 
extremely lax in the fortitude and labor perfection demands. Like those who 
are reared in luxury, they run sadly from everything rough, and they are 
scandalized by the cross, in which spiritual delights are found. And in the 
more spiritual exercises their boredom is greater. Since they expect to go 
about in spiritual matters according to the whims and satisfactions of 
their own will, entering by the narrow way of life, about which Christ 
speaks, is saddening and repugnant to them [Mt. 7:14].1

7.5. It is enough to have referred to the many imperfections of those who 
live in this beginner's state to see their need for God to put them into 
the state of proficients. He does this by introducing them into the dark 
night, of which we will now speak. There, through pure dryness and interior 
darkness, he weans them from the breasts of these gratifications and 
delights, takes away all these trivialities and childish ways, and makes 
them acquire the virtues by very different means. No matter how earnestly 
beginners in all their actions and passions practice the mortification of 
self, they will never be able to do so entirely -- far from it -- until God 
accomplishes it in them passively by means of the purgation of this night. 
May God be pleased to give me his divine light that I may say something 
worthwhile about this subject, for in a night so dark and a matter so 
difficult to treat and expound, his enlightenment is very necessary. The 
verse, then, is:

      			     One dark night.



CHAPTER 8


8. The beginning of the exposition of this dark night. An explanation of 
verse 1 of the first stanza.

8.1. This night, which as we say is contemplation, causes two kinds of 
darkness or purgation in spiritual persons according to the two parts of 
the soul, the sensory and the spiritual. Hence one night of purgation is 
sensory, by which the senses are purged and accommodated to the spirit; and 
the other night or purgation is spiritual, by which the spirit is purged 
and denuded as well as accommodated and prepared for union with God through 
love. The sensory night is common and happens to many. These are the 
beginners of whom we will treat first. The spiritual night is the lot of 
very few, those who have been tried and are proficient, and of whom we will 
speak afterward.

8.2. The first purgation or night is bitter and terrible to the senses. But 
nothing can be compared to the second, for it is horrible and frightful to 
the spirit. Because the sensory night is first in order, we will speak of 
it now briefly. It is a more common occurrence, so one finds more written 
on it. Then we will pass on to discuss more at length the spiritual night, 
for hardly anything has been said of it in sermons or in writing; and even 
the experience of it is rare.

8.3. Since the conduct of these beginners in the way of God is lowly and 
not too distant from love of pleasure and of self, as we explained, God 
desires to withdraw them from this base manner of loving and lead them on 
to a higher degree of divine love. And he desires to liberate them from the 
lowly exercise of the senses and of discursive meditation, by which they go 
in search of him so inadequately and with so many difficulties, and lead 
them into the exercise of spirit, in which they become capable of a 
communion with God that is more abundant and more free of imperfections. 
God does this after beginners have exercised themselves for a time in the 
way of virtue and have persevered in meditation and prayer. For it is 
through the delight and satisfaction they experience in prayer that they 
have become detached from worldly things and have gained some spiritual 
strength in God. This strength has helped them somewhat to restrain their 
appetites for creatures, and through it they will be able to suffer a 
little oppression and dryness without turning back. Consequently, it is at 
the time they are going about their spiritual exercises with delight and 
satisfaction, when in their opinion the sun of divine favor is shining most 
brightly on them, that God darkens all this light and closes the door and 
the spring of sweet spiritual water they were tasting as often and as long 
as they desired. For since they were weak and tender, no door was closed to 
them, as St. John says in the Book of Revelation [Rv. 3:8]. God now leaves 
them in such darkness that they do not know which way to turn in their 
discursive imaginings. They cannot advance a step in meditation, as they 
used to, now that the interior sense faculties are engulfed in this night. 
He leaves them in such dryness that they not only fail to receive 
satisfaction and pleasure from their spiritual exercises and works, as they 
formerly did, but also find these exercises distasteful and bitter. As I 
said, when God sees that they have grown a little, he weans them from the 
sweet breast so that they might be strengthened, lays aside their swaddling 
bands, and puts them down from his arms that they may grow accustomed to 
walking by themselves. This change is a surprise to them because everything 
seems to be functioning in reverse.

8.4. This usually happens to recollected beginners sooner than to others 
since they are freer from occasions of backsliding and more quickly reform 
their appetites for worldly things. A reform of the appetites is the 
requirement for entering the happy night of the senses. Not much time 
ordinarily passes after the initial stages of their spiritual life before 
beginners start to enter this night of sense. And the majority of them do 
enter it because it is common to see them suffer these aridities.

8.5. We could adduce numerous passages from Sacred Scripture, for since 
this sensory purgation is so customary we find a great many references to 
it throughout, especially in the Psalms and the Prophets. But I do not want 
to spend time citing them, because the prevalence of the experience of this 
night should be enough for those who are unable to find the scriptural 
references to it.



CHAPTER 9


9. Signs for discerning whether a spiriual person is treading the path of 
this sensory night and purgation.]

9.1. Because these aridities may not proceed from the sensory night and 
purgation, but from sin and imperfection, or weakness and lukewarmness, or 
some bad humor or bodily indisposition, I will give some signs here for 
discerning whether the dryness is the result of this purgation or of one of 
these other defects. I find there are three principal signs for knowing 
this.

9.2. The first is that since these souls do not get satisfaction or 
consolation from the things of God, they do not get any from creatures 
either. Since God puts a soul in this dark night in order to dry up and 
purge its sensory appetite, he does not allow it to find sweetness or 
delight in anything. Through this sign it can in all likelihood be inferred 
that this dryness and distaste is not the outcome of newly committed sins 
and imperfections. If this were so, some inclination or propensity to look 
for satisfaction in something other than the things of God would be felt in 
the sensory part, for when the appetite is allowed indulgence in some 
imperfection, the soul immediately feels an inclination toward it, little 
or great in proportion to the degree of its satisfaction and attachment. 

9.2.(2). Yet, because the want of satisfaction in earthly or heavenly 
things could be the product of some indisposition or melancholic humor, 
which frequently prevents one from being satisfied with anything, the 
second sign or condition is necessary.

9.3. The second sign for the discernment of this purgation is that the 
memory ordinarily turns to God solicitously and with painful care, and the 
soul thinks it is not serving God but turning back, because it is aware of 
this distaste for the things of God. Hence it is obvious that this aversion 
and dryness is not the fruit of laxity and tepidity, for lukewarm people do 
not care much for the things of God nor are they inwardly solicitous about 
them. 

9.3.(2). There is, consequently, a notable difference between dryness and 
lukewarmness. The lukewarm are very lax and remiss in their will and 
spirit, and have no solicitude about serving God. Those suffering from the 
purgative dryness are ordinarily solicitous, concerned, and pained about 
not serving God. Even though the dryness may be furthered by melancholia or 
some other humor -- as it often is -- it does not thereby fail to produce 
its purgative effect in the appetite, for the soul will be deprived of 
every satisfaction and concerned only about God. If this humor is the 
entire cause, everything ends in displeasure and does harm to one's nature, 
and there are none of these desires to serve God that accompany the 
purgative dryness. Even though in this purgative dryness the sensory part 
of the soul is very cast down, slack, and feeble in its actions because of 
the little satisfaction it finds, the spirit is ready and strong.

9.4. The reason for this dryness is that God transfers his goods and 
strength from sense to spirit. Since the sensory part of the soul is 
incapable of the goods of spirit, it remains deprived, dry, and empty. 
Thus, while the spirit is tasting, the flesh tastes nothing at all and 
becomes weak in its work.1 But through this nourishment the spirit grows 
stronger and more alert, and becomes more solicitous than before about not 
failing God.

 9.4.(2). If in the beginning the soul does not experience this spiritual 
savor and delight, but dryness and distaste, the reason is the novelty 
involved in this exchange. Since its palate is accustomed to these other 
sensory tastes, the soul still sets its eyes on them. And since, also, its 
spiritual palate is neither purged nor accommodated for so subtle a taste, 
it is unable to experience the spiritual savor and good until gradually 
prepared by means of this dark and obscure night. The soul instead 
experiences dryness and distaste because of a lack of the gratification it 
formerly enjoyed so readily.

9.5. Those whom God begins to lead into these desert solitudes are like the 
children of Israel. When God began giving them the heavenly food, which 
contained in itself all savors and changed to whatever taste each one 
hungered after [Wis. 16:20-21], as is there mentioned, they nonetheless 
felt a craving for the tastes of the fleshmeats and onions they had eaten 
in Egypt, for their palate was accustomed and attracted to them more than 
to the delicate sweetness of the angelic manna. And in the midst of that 
heavenly food, they wept and sighed for fleshmeat [Nm. 11:4-6]. The 
baseness of our appetite is such that it makes us long for our own 
miserable goods and feel aversion for the incommunicable heavenly good. 

9.6. Yet, as I say, when these aridities are the outcome of the purgative 
way of the sensory appetite, the spirit feels the strength and energy to 
work, which is obtained from the substance of that interior food, even 
though in the beginning it may not experience the savor, for the reason 
just mentioned. This food is the beginning of a contemplation that is dark 
and dry to the senses. Ordinarily this contemplation, which is secret and 
hidden from the very one who receives it, imparts to the soul, together 
with the dryness and emptiness it produces in the senses, an inclination to 
remain alone and in quietude. And the soul will be unable to dwell on any 
particular thought, nor will it have the desire to do so. 

9.6.(2). If those in whom this occurs know how to remain quiet, without 
care or solicitude about any interior or exterior work, they will soon in 
that unconcern and idleness delicately experience the interior nourishment. 
This refection is so delicate that usually if the soul desires or tries to 
experience it, it cannot do so. For, as I say, this contemplation is active 
while the soul is in idleness and unconcern. It is like air that escapes 
when one tries to grasp it in one's hand.

9.7. In this sense we can interpret what the Spouse said to the bride in 
the Song of Songs: Turn your eyes from me, because they make me fly away 
[Sg. 6:4]. God conducts the soul along so different a path, and so puts it 
in this state, that a desire to work with the faculties would hinder rather 
than help his work; whereas in the beginning of the spiritual life 
everything was quite the contrary. The reason is that now in this state of 
contemplation, when the soul leaves discursive meditation and enters the 
state of proficients, it is God who works in it.

 9.7.(2). He therefore binds the interior faculties and leaves no support 
in the intellect, nor satisfaction in the will, nor remembrance in the 
memory. At this time a person's own efforts are of no avail, but are an 
obstacle to the interior peace and work God is producing in the spirit 
through that dryness of sense. Since this peace is something spiritual and 
delicate, its fruit is quiet, delicate, solitary, satisfying, and peaceful, 
and far removed from all the other gratifications of beginners, which are 
very palpable and sensory. This is the peace that David says God speaks in 
the soul in order to make it spiritual [Ps. 85:8]. The third sign follows 
from this one.

9.8. The third sign for the discernment of this purgation of the senses is 
the powerlessness, in spite of one's efforts, to meditate and make use of 
the imagination, the interior sense, as was one's previous custom. At this 
time God does not communicate himself through the senses as he did before, 
by means of the discursive analysis and synthesis of ideas, but begins to 
communicate himself through pure spirit by an act of simple contemplation 
in which there is no discursive succession of thought. The exterior and 
interior senses of the lower part of the soul cannot attain to this 
contemplation. As a result the imaginative power and phantasy can no longer 
rest in any consideration or find support in it. 

9.9. From the third sign it can be deduced that this dissatisfaction of the 
faculties is not the fruit of any bad humor. If it were, people would be 
able with a little care to return to their former exercises and find 
support for their faculties when that humor passed away, for it is by its 
nature changeable. In the purgation of the appetite this return is not 
possible, because on entering it the powerlessness to meditate always 
continues. It is true, though, that at times in the beginning the purgation 
of some souls is not continuous in such a way that they are always deprived 
of sensory satisfaction and the ability to meditate. Perhaps, because of 
their weakness, they cannot be weaned all at once. Nevertheless, if they 
are to advance, they will ever enter further into the purgation and leave 
further behind their work of the senses.

 9.9.(2). Those who do not walk the road of contemplation act very 
differently. This night of the aridity of the senses is not so continuous 
in them, for sometimes they experience the aridities and at other times 
not, and sometimes they can meditate and at other times they cannot. God 
places them in this night solely to exercise and humble them, and reform 
their appetite lest in their spiritual life they foster a harmful 
attraction toward sweetness. But he does not do so in order to lead them to 
the life of the spirit, which is contemplation. For God does not bring to 
contemplation all those who purposely exercise themselves in the way of the 
spirit, nor even half. Why? He best knows. As a result he never completely 
weans their senses from the breasts of considerations and discursive 
meditations, except for some short periods and at certain seasons, as we 
said.



CHAPTER 10


10. The conduct required of souls in this dark night.

10.1. At the time of the aridities of this sensory night, God makes the 
exchange we mentioned1 by withdrawing the soul from the life of the senses 
and placing it in that of spirit -- that is, he brings it from meditation 
to contemplation -- where the soul no longer has the power to work or 
meditate with its faculties on the things of God. Spiritual persons suffer 
considerable affliction in this night, owing not so much to the aridities 
they undergo as to their fear of having gone astray. Since they do not find 
any support or satisfaction in good things, they believe there will be no 
more spiritual blessings for them and that God has abandoned them. 

10.1.(2). They then grow weary and strive, as was their custom, to 
concentrate their faculties with some satisfaction on a subject of 
meditation, and they think that if they do not do this and do not feel that 
they are at work, they are doing nothing. This effort of theirs is 
accompanied by an interior reluctance and repugnance on the part of the 
soul, for it would be pleased to dwell in that quietude and idleness 
without working with the faculties. 

10.1.(3). They consequently impair God's work and do not profit by their 
own. In searching for spirit, they lose the spirit that was the source of 
their tranquility and peace. They are like someone who turns from what has 
already been done in order to do it again, or like one who leaves a city 
only to re-enter it, or they are like a hunter who abandons the prey in 
order to go hunting again. It is useless, then, for the soul to try to 
meditate because it will no longer profit by this exercise.

10.2. If there is no one to understand these persons, they either turn back 
and abandon the road or lose courage, or at least they hinder their own 
progress because of their excessive diligence in treading the path of 
discursive meditation. They fatigue and overwork themselves, thinking that 
they are failing because of their negligence or sins. Meditation is now 
useless for them because God is conducting them along another road, which 
is contemplation and is very different from the first, for the one road 
belongs to discursive meditation and the other is beyond the range of the 
imagination and discursive reflection.

10.3. Those who are in this situation should feel comforted; they ought to 
persevere patiently and not be afflicted. Let them trust in God who does 
not fail those who seek him with a simple and righteous heart; nor will he 
fail to impart what is needful for the way until getting them to the clear 
and pure light of love. God will give them this light by means of that 
other night, the night of spirit, if they merit that he place them in it.

10.4. The attitude necessary in the night of sense is to pay no attention 
to discursive meditation since this is not the time for it. They should 
allow the soul to remain in rest and quietude even though it may seem 
obvious to them that they are doing nothing and wasting time, and even 
though they think this disinclination to think about anything is due to 
their laxity. Through patience and perseverance in prayer, they will be 
doing a great deal without activity on their part. 

10.4.(2). All that is required of them here is freedom of soul, that they 
liberate themselves from the impediment and fatigue of ideas and thoughts, 
and care not about thinking and meditating. They must be content simply 
with a loving and peaceful attentiveness to God, and live without the 
concern, without the effort, and without the desire to taste or feel him. 
All these desires disquiet the soul and distract it from the peaceful, 
quiet, and sweet idleness of the contemplation that is being communicated 
to it.

10.5. And even though more scruples come to the fore concerning the loss of 
time and the advantages of doing something else, since it cannot do 
anything or think of anything in prayer, the soul should endure them 
peacefully, as though going to prayer means remaining in ease and freedom 
of spirit. If individuals were to desire to do something themselves with 
their interior faculties, they would hinder and lose the goods that God 
engraves on their souls through that peace and idleness. 

10.5.(2). If a model for the painting or retouching of a portrait should 
move because of a desire to do something, the artist would be unable to 
finish and the work would be spoiled. Similarly, any operation, affection, 
or thought a soul might cling to when it wants to abide in interior peace 
and idleness would cause distraction and disquietude, and make it feel 
sensory dryness and emptiness. The more a person seeks some support in 
knowledge and affection the more the soul will feel the lack of these, for 
this support cannot be supplied through these sensory means.

10.6. Accordingly, such persons should not mind if the operations of their 
faculties are being lost to them; they should desire rather that this be 
done quickly so they may be no obstacle to the operation of the infused 
contemplation God is bestowing, so they may receive it with more peaceful 
plenitude and make room in the spirit for the enkindling and burning of the 
love that this dark and secret contemplation bears and communicates to the 
soul. For contemplation is nothing else than a secret and peaceful and 
loving inflow of God, which, if not hampered, fires the soul in the spirit 
of love, as is brought out in the following verse:

		Fired with love's urgent longings



CHAPTER 11


11. Explains three verses of the stanza.

11.1. The fire of love is not commonly felt at the outset, either because 
it does not have a chance to take hold, owing to the impurity of the 
sensory part, or because the soul for want of understanding has not made 
within itself a peaceful place for it; although at times with or without 
these conditions a person will begin to feel a certain longing for God. In 
the measure that the fire increases, the soul becomes aware of being 
attracted by the love of God and enkindled in it, without knowing how or 
where this attraction and love originates. At times this flame and 
enkindling increase to such an extent that the soul desires God with urgent 
longings of love, as David, while in this night, said of himself: Because 
my heart was inflamed (in contemplative love), my reins were likewise 
changed [Ps. 73:21]. That is, my appetites of sensible affection were 
changed from the sensory life to the spiritual life, which implies dryness 
and cessation of all those appetites we are speaking of. And, he says: I 
was brought to nothing and annihilated, and I knew not [Ps. 73:22]. For, as 
we pointed out,1 the soul, with no knowledge of its destination, sees 
itself annihilated in all heavenly and earthly things in which it formerly 
found satisfaction; and it only sees that it is enamored, but knows not 
how.

11.1.(2). Because the enkindling of love in the spirit sometimes increases 
exceedingly, the longings for God become so intense that it will seem to 
such persons that their bones are drying up in this thirst, their nature 
withering away, and their ardor and strength diminishing through the 
liveliness of the thirst of love. They will feel that this is a living 
thirst. David also had such experience when he proclaimed: My soul thirsts 
for the living God [Ps. 43:3], as though to say, this thirst my soul 
experiences is a living thirst. Since this thirst is alive, we can assert 
that it is a thirst that kills. Yet it should be noted that its vehemence 
is not continual, but only experienced from time to time, although usually 
some thirst is felt. 

11.2. Yet it must be kept in mind that, as I began to say here, individuals 
generally do not perceive this love in the beginning, but they experience 
rather the dryness and void we are speaking of. Then, instead of this love 
which is enkindled afterward, they harbor, in the midst of the dryness and 
emptiness of their faculties, a habitual care and solicitude for God 
accompanied by grief or fear about not serving him. It is a sacrifice most 
pleasing to God -- that of a spirit in distress and solicitude for his love 
[Ps. 51:17].

11.2.(2). Secret contemplation produces this solicitude and concern in the 
soul until, after having somewhat purged the sensory part of its natural 
propensities by means of this aridity, it begins to enkindle in the spirit 
this divine love. Meanwhile, however, as in one who is undergoing a cure, 
all is suffering in this dark and dry purgation of the appetite, and the 
soul being relieved of numerous imperfections acquires many virtues, 
thereby becoming capable of this love, as will be shown in the explanation 
of the following verse:   -- ah, the sheer grace! --  

11.3. God introduces people into this night to purge their senses, and to 
accommodate, subject, and unite the lower part of the soul to the spiritual 
part by darkening it and causing a cessation of discursive meditation (just 
as afterward, in order to purify the spirit and unite it to himself, he 
brings it into the spiritual night). As a result they gain so many benefits 
-- though at the time this may not be apparent -- that they consider their 
departure from the fetters and straits of the senses a sheer grace.

11.3.(2). The verse therefore proclaims: " -- ah, the sheer grace! -- "

11.3.(3). We ought to point out the benefits procured in this night, for it 
is because of them that the soul says it was a sheer grace to have passed 
through it.2 All these benefits are included in the next verse:
			I went out unseen, 

11.4. This going out bears reference to the subjection the soul had to its 
senses, in seeking God through operations so feeble, limited, and exposed 
to error as are those of this lower part, for at every step it stumbled 
into numerous imperfections and much ignorance, as was noted above in 
relation to the seven capital vices.3 This night frees the soul from all 
these vices by quenching all its earthly and heavenly satisfactions, 
darkening its discursive meditations, and producing in it other innumerable 
goods through its acquiring of the virtues, as we will now explain. For it 
will please and comfort one who treads this path to know that a way 
seemingly so rough and adverse and contrary to spiritual gratification 
engenders so many blessings.

11.4.(2). These blessings are attained when by means of this night the soul 
departs from all created things, in its affections and operations, and 
walks on toward eternal things. This is a great happiness and grace: first, 
because of the signal benefit of quenching one's appetite and affection for 
all things; second, because there are very few who will endure the night 
and persevere in entering through this narrow gate and treading this 
constricted road that leads to life, as our Savior says [Mt. 7:14].

11.4.(3). This narrow gate is the dark night of sense, in which the soul is 
despoiled and denuded -- in order to enter it -- and grounded in faith, 
which is foreign to all sense, that it may be capable of walking along the 
constricted road, which is the night of spirit. The soul enters this second 
night so that it may journey to God in pure faith, for pure faith is the 
means whereby it is united with God. Few there are who walk along this 
road, because it is so narrow, dark, and terrible that, in obscurities and 
trials, the night of sense cannot be compared to it, as will be explained. 
Yet the benefits of this night are incomparably greater than those of the 
night of sense.

11.4.(4). We will say something now about the benefits of the night of 
sense as briefly as possible in order to pass on to our exposition of the 
other night.



CHAPTER 12 


12. The benefits this night causes in the soul.

12.1. This glad night and purgation causes many benefits even though to the 
soul it seemingly deprives it of them. So numerous are these benefits that, 
just as Abraham made a great feast on the day of his son Isaac's weaning 
[Gn. 21:8], there is rejoicing in heaven that God has now taken from this 
soul its swaddling clothes; that he has put it down from his arms and is 
making it walk alone; that he is weaning it from the delicate and sweet 
food of infants and making it eat bread with crust; and that the soul is 
beginning to taste the food of the strong (the infused contemplation of 
which we have spoken), which in these sensory aridities and darknesses is 
given to the spirit that is dry and empty of the satisfactions of sense.

12.2. The first and chief benefit this dry and dark night of contemplation 
causes is the knowledge of self and of one's own misery. Besides the fact 
that all the favors God imparts to the soul are ordinarily wrapped in this 
knowledge, the aridities and voids of the faculties in relation to the 
abundance previously experienced and the difficulty encountered in the 
practice of virtue make the soul recognize its own lowliness and misery, 
which was not apparent in the time of its prosperity.

12.2.(2). There is a good figure of this in Exodus where God, desiring to 
humble the children of Israel and make them know themselves, ordered them 
to remove their festive garments and the adornments they had been wearing 
in the desert: From now on leave aside your festive ornaments and put on 
common working garments that you may be aware of the treatment you deserve 
[Ex. 33:5]. This was like saying: Since the clothing you wear, being of 
festivity and mirth, is an occasion for your not feeling as lowly as you in 
fact are, put it aside, so that seeing the vileness of your dress you may 
know yourself and your just deserts. 

12.2.(3). As a result the soul recognizes the truth about its misery, of 
which it was formerly ignorant. When it was walking in festivity, 
gratification, consolation, and support in God, it was more content, 
believing that it was serving God in some way. Though this idea of serving 
God may not be explicitly formed in a person's mind, at least some notion 
of it is deeply embedded within, owing to the satisfaction derived from 
one's spiritual exercises. Now that the soul is clothed in these other 
garments of labor, dryness, and desolation, and its former lights have been 
darkened, it possesses more authentic lights in this most excellent and 
necessary virtue of self-knowledge. It considers itself to be nothing and 
finds no satisfaction in self because it is aware that of itself it neither 
does nor can do anything.

12.2.(4). God esteems this lack of self-satisfaction and the dejection 
persons have about not serving him more than all their former deeds and 
gratifications, however notable they may have been, since they were the 
occasion of many imperfections and a great deal of ignorance. Not only the 
benefits we mentioned result from this garment of dryness but also those of 
which we will now speak, and many more, for they flow from self-knowledge 
as from their fount. 

12.3. First, individuals commune with God more respectfully and 
courteously, the way one should always converse with the Most High. In the 
prosperity of their satisfaction and consolation as beginners, they did not 
act thus, for that satisfying delight made them somewhat more daring with 
God than was proper, and more discourteous and inconsiderate. This is what 
happened to Moses: When he heard God speaking to him, he was blinded by 
that gratification and desire and without any further thought would have 
dared to approach God, if he had not been ordered to stop and take off his 
shoes [Ex. 3:4-5]. This instance denotes the respect and discretion, the 
nakedness of appetite, with which one ought to commune with God. 
Consequently when Moses was obedient to this command, he was so discreet 
and cautious that Scripture says he not only dared not approach but did not 
even dare look [Ex. 3:6; Acts 7:32]. Having left aside the shoes of his 
appetites and gratifications, he was fully aware of his misery in the sight 
of God, for this was the manner in which it was fitting for him to hear 
God's word.

12.3.(2). Similarly, Job was not prepared for converse with God by means of 
those delights and glories that he says he was accustomed to experience in 
his God. But the preparation for this converse embodied nakedness on a 
dunghill, abandonment and even persecution by his friends, the fullness of 
anguish and bitterness, and the sight of the earth round about him covered 
with worms [Jb. 2:8; 30:17-18]. Yet the most high God, he who raises the 
poor from the dunghill [Ps. 112:7], was then pleased to descend and speak 
face to face with him and reveal the deep mysteries of his wisdom, which he 
never did before in the time of Job's prosperity [Jb. 38-41].

12.4. Since this is the proper moment, we ought to point out another 
benefit resulting from this night and dryness of the sensory appetite. So 
that the prophecy -- your light will illumine the darkness [Is. 58:10] -- 
may be verified, God will give illumination by bestowing on the soul not 
only knowledge of its own misery and lowliness but also knowledge of his 
grandeur and majesty. When the sensory appetites, gratifications, and 
supports are quenched, the intellect is left clean and free to understand 
the truth, for even though these appetites and pleasures concern spiritual 
things, they blind and impede the spirit. Similarly, the anguish and 
dryness of the senses illumine and quicken the intellect, as Isaiah 
affirms: Vexation makes one understand [Is. 28:19]. But God also, by means 
of this dark and dry night of contemplation, supernaturally instructs in 
his divine wisdom the soul that is empty and unhindered (which is the 
requirement for his divine inpouring), which he did not do through the 
former satisfactions and pleasures.

12.5. Isaiah explains this clearly: To whom will God teach his knowledge? 
And to whom will he explain his message? To them that are weaned, he says, 
from the milk, and to them who are drawn away from the breasts [Is. 28:9]. 
This passage indicates that the preparation for this divine inpouring is 
not the former milk of spiritual sweetness or aid from the breast of the 
discursive meditations of the sensory faculties that the soul enjoyed, but 
the privation of one and a withdrawal from the other.

12.5.(2). In order to hear God, people should stand firm and be detached in 
their sense life and affections, as the prophet himself declares: I will 
stand on my watch (with detached appetite) and will fix my foot (I will not 
meditate with the sensory faculties) in order to contemplate (understand) 
what God says to me [Hb. 2:1].

12.5.(3). We conclude that self-knowledge flows first from this dry night, 
and that from this knowledge as from its source proceeds the other 
knowledge of God. Hence St. Augustine said to God: Let me know myself, 
Lord, and I will know you.2 For as the philosophers say, one extreme is 
clearly known by the other.3

12.6. For a more complete proof of the efficacy of this sensory night in 
producing through its dryness and destitution the light here received from 
God, we will quote that passage from David in which the great power of this 
night in relation to the lofty knowledge of God is clearly shown. He 
proclaims: In a desert land, without water, dry, and without a way, I 
appeared before you to be able to see your power and your glory. [Ps. 63:1-
2]. David's teaching here is admirable: that the means to the knowledge of 
the glory of God were not the many spiritual delights and gratifications he 
had received, but the sensory aridities and detachments referred to by the 
dry and desert land. And it is also wonderful that, as he says, the way to 
the experience and vision of the power of God did not consist in ideas and 
meditations about God, of which he had made extensive use. But it consisted 
in not being able either to grasp God with ideas or walk by means of 
discursive, imaginative meditation, which is here indicated by the land 
without a way.

12.6.(2). Hence the dark night with its aridities and voids is the means to 
the knowledge of both God and self. However, the knowledge given in this 
night is not as plenteous and abundant as that of the other night of 
spirit, for the knowledge of this night is as it were the foundation of the 
other.4

12.7. In the dryness and emptiness of this night of the appetite, a person 
also procures spiritual humility, that virtue opposed to the first capital 
vice, spiritual pride. Through this humility acquired by means of self-
knowledge, individuals are purged of all those imperfections of the vice of 
pride into which they fell in the time of their prosperity. Aware of their 
own dryness and wretchedness, the thought of their being more advanced than 
others does not even occur in its first movements, as it did before; on the 
contrary, they realize that others are better.

12.8. From this humility stems love of neighbor, for they esteem them and 
do not judge them as they did before when they were aware that they enjoyed 
an intense fervor while others did not.

12.8.(2). These persons know only their own misery and keep it so much in 
sight that they have no opportunity to watch anyone else's conduct. David 
while in this night gives an admirable manifestation of such a state of 
soul: I became dumb, and was humbled, and I kept silent in good things, and 
my sorrow was renewed [Ps. 39:2]. He says this because it seemed to him 
that his blessings had so come to an end that not only was he unable to 
find words for them, but he also became silent concerning his neighbor, in 
the sorrow he experienced from the knowledge of his own misery.

12.8.(3). These individuals also become submissive and obedient in their 
spiritual journey. Since they are so aware of their own wretchedness, they 
not only listen to the teaching of others but even desire to be directed 
and told what to do by anyone at all. The affective presumption they 
sometimes had in their prosperity leaves them. And, finally, as they 
proceed on their journey, all the other imperfections of this first vice, 
spiritual pride, are swept away.



CHAPTER 13


13. Other benefits of this night of the senses.

 13.1. In this arid and obscure night the soul undergoes a thorough reform 
in its imperfections of avarice, in which it craved various spiritual 
objects and was never content with many of its spiritual exercises because 
of the covetousness of its appetite and the gratification it found in 
spiritual things. Since it does not obtain the delight it formerly did in 
its spiritual practices, but rather finds them distasteful and laborious, 
it uses them so moderately that now perhaps it might fail through defect 
rather than excess. Nevertheless, God usually imparts to those whom he 
brings into this night the humility and the readiness, even though they 
feel displeasure, to do what is commanded of them for his sake alone, and 
they become detached from many things because of this lack of 
gratification.

13.2. It is also evident regarding spiritual lust that through the sensory 
dryness and distaste experienced in its spiritual exercises, the soul is 
freed of those impurities we noted.1 For we said that they ordinarily 
proceed from the delight of the spirit redounding in the senses.

13.3. The imperfections of the fourth vice, spiritual gluttony, from which 
a person is freed in this dark night, are listed above,2 although not all 
of them since they are innumerable. Thus I will not refer to them here, 
since I am eager to conclude this dark night in order to pass on to the 
important doctrine we have concerning the other night.

13.3.(2). To understand the countless benefits gained in this night in 
regard to the vice of spiritual gluttony, let it suffice to say that the 
soul is liberated from all the imperfections we mentioned and from many 
other greater evils and foul abominations not listed, into which many have 
fallen, as we know from experience, because they did not reform their 
desire for this spiritual sweetness.

13.3.(3). God so curbs concupiscence and bridles the appetite through this 
arid and dark night that the soul cannot feast on any sensory delight from 
earthly or heavenly things, and he continues this purgation in such a way 
that the concupiscence and the appetites are brought into subjection, 
reformed, and mortified. The passions, as a result, lose their strength and 
become sterile from not receiving any satisfaction, just as the courses of 
the udder dry up when milk is not drawn through them daily.

13.3.(4). Once the soul's appetites have withered, and it lives in 
spiritual sobriety, admirable benefits besides those mentioned result. For 
when the appetites and concupiscences are quenched, the soul dwells in 
spiritual peace and tranquility. Where neither the appetites nor 
concupiscence reign, there is no disturbance but only God's peace and 
consolation. 

13.4. A second benefit following on this one is that the soul bears a 
habitual remembrance of God, accompanied by a fear and dread of turning 
back on the spiritual road. This is a notable benefit and by no means one 
of the least in this dryness and purgation of the appetite, because the 
soul is purified of the imperfections that of themselves make it dull and 
dark, and cling to it by means of appetites and affections.

13.5. Another very great benefit for the soul in this night is that it 
exercises all the virtues together. In the patience and forbearance 
practiced in these voids and aridities, and through perseverance in its 
spiritual exercises without consolation or satisfaction, the soul practices 
the love of God, since it is no longer motivated by the attractive and 
savory gratification it finds in its work, but only by God. It also 
practices the virtue of fortitude, because it draws strength from weakness 
in the difficulties and aversions experienced in its work, and thus becomes 
strong. Finally, in these aridities the soul practices corporeally and 
spiritually all the virtues, theological as well as cardinal and moral.

13.6. David affirms that a person obtains in this night these four 
benefits: the delight of peace; a habitual remembrance of God and 
solicitude concerning him; cleanness and purity of soul; and the practice 
of virtue. For David himself had such experience by being in this night: My 
soul refused consolations, I remembered God and found consolation, and 
exercised myself, and my soul swooned away; and then he adds: I meditated 
at night in my heart, and I exercised myself, and swept and purified my 
spirit (of all its imperfections) [Ps. 77:2-6].

13.7. In relation to the imperfections of the other three vices (anger, 
envy, and sloth), the soul is also purged in this dryness of appetite, and 
it acquires the virtues to which these vices are opposed. Softened and 
humbled by aridities and hardships and by other temptations and trials in 
which God exercises the soul in the course of this night, individuals 
become meek toward God and themselves and also toward their neighbor. As a 
result they no longer become impatiently angry with themselves and their 
faults or with their neighbor's; neither are they displeased or 
disrespectfully querulous with God for not making them perfect quickly.

13.8. As for envy, these individuals also become charitable toward others. 
For if they do have envy, it will not be vicious as before, when they were 
distressed that others were preferred to them and more advanced. Now, aware 
of how miserable they are, they are willing to concede this about others. 
The envy they have -- if they do have any -- is a holy envy that desires to 
imitate others, which indicates solid virtue.

13.9. The sloth and tedium they feel in spiritual things is not vicious as 
before. Previously this sloth was the outcome of the spiritual 
gratification they either enjoyed or tried to obtain when not experienced. 
Yet this wearisomeness does not flow from any weakness relative to sensory 
gratification, for in this purgation of the appetite God takes from the 
soul all its satisfaction.

13.10. Besides these benefits, innumerable others flow from this dry 
contemplation. In the midst of these aridities and straits, God frequently 
communicates to the soul, when it least expects, spiritual sweetness, a 
very pure love, and a spiritual knowledge that is sometimes most delicate. 
Each of these communications is more valuable than all the soul previously 
sought. Yet in the beginning one will not think so because the spiritual 
inflow is very delicate and the senses do not perceive it.

13.11. Finally, insofar as these persons are purged of their sensory 
affections and appetites, they obtain freedom of spirit in which they 
acquire the twelve fruits of the Holy Spirit.

13.11.(2). They are also wondrously liberated from the hands of their 
enemies, the devil, the world, and the flesh. For when the sensory delight 
and gratification regarding things is quenched, neither the devil, nor the 
world, nor sensuality has arms or power against the spirit.

13.12. These aridities, then, make people walk with purity in the love of 
God. No longer are they moved to act by the delight and satisfaction they 
find in a work, as perhaps they were when they derived this from their 
deeds, but by the desire of pleasing God. They are neither presumptuous nor 
self-satisfied, as was their custom in the time of their prosperity, but 
fearful and disquieted about themselves and lacking in any self-
satisfaction. This is the holy fear that preserves and gives increase to 
the virtues.

13.12.(2). This dryness also quenches the natural concupiscences and vigor, 
as we also said. Were it not for the satisfaction God himself sometimes 
infuses, it would be a wonder if the soul through its own diligence could 
get any sensible gratification or consolation out of its spiritual works 
and exercises.

13.13. In this arid night solicitude for God and longings about serving him 
increase. Since the sensory breasts (through which the appetites pursued by 
these souls were sustained and nurtured) gradually dry up, only the anxiety 
about serving God remains, in dryness and nakedness. These yearnings are 
very pleasing to God, since as David proclaims: The afflicted spirit is a 
sacrifice to God [Ps. 51:17].

13.14. Since the soul knows that, from this dry purgation through which it 
passed, it procured so many and such precious benefits, as are referred to 
here, the verse of this stanza is no exaggeration: " -- Ah, the sheer 
grace! -- I went out unseen." That is, I went forth from subjection to my 
sensory appetites and affections unseen, so that the three enemies were 
unable to stop me. These three enemies entrap the soul -- as with snares -- 
in its appetites and gratifications and keep it from going forth to the 
freedom of the love of God. But without these satisfactions and appetites 
the enemies cannot fight against the soul.

13.15. Having calmed the four passions (joy, sorrow, hope, and fear) 
through constant mortification, and lulled to sleep the natural sensory 
appetites, and having achieved harmony in the interior senses by 
discontinuing discursive operations (all of which pertains to the household 
or dwelling of the lower part of the soul, here referred to as its house), 
the soul says:

		My house being now all stilled.



CHAPTER 14


14. An explanation of the last verse of the first stanza.

14.1. When this house of the senses was stilled (that is, mortified), its 
passions quenched, and its appetites calmed and put to sleep through this 
happy night of the purgation of the senses, the soul went out in order to 
begin its journey along the road of the spirit, which is that of 
proficients and which by another terminology is referred to as the 
illuminative way or the way of infused contemplation. On this road God 
himself pastures and refreshes the soul without any of its own discursive 
meditation or active help.

14.1.(2). Such is the sensory night and purgation of the soul. For those 
who must afterward enter into the other more oppressive night of the spirit 
in order to reach the divine union of love -- because not everyone but only 
a few usually reach this union -- this night is ordinarily accompanied by 
burdensome trials and sensory temptations that last a long time, and with 
some longer than with others.1

14.1.(3). An angel of Satan [2 Cor. 12:7], which is the spirit of 
fornication, is given to some to buffet their senses with strong and 
abominable temptations, and afflict their spirit with foul thoughts and 
very vivid images, which sometimes is a pain worse than death for them.

14.2. At other times a blasphemous spirit is added; it commingles 
intolerable blasphemies with all one's thoughts and ideas. Sometimes these 
blasphemies are so strongly suggested to the imagination that the soul is 
almost made to pronounce them, which is a grave torment to it.

14.3. Sometimes another loathsome spirit, which Isaiah calls spiritus 
vertiginis [Is. 19:14], is sent to these souls, not for their downfall but 
to try them.2 This spirit so darkens the senses that such souls are filled 
with a thousand scruples and perplexities, so intricate that such persons 
can never be content with anything, nor can their judgment receive the 
support of any counsel or idea. This is one of the most burdensome goads 
and horrors of this night -- very similar to what occurs in the spiritual 
night.

14.4. God generally sends these storms and trials in this sensory night and 
purgation to those whom he will afterward put in the other night -- 
although not all pass on to it -- so that thus chastised and buffeted, the 
senses and faculties may gradually be exercised, prepared, and inured for 
the union with wisdom that will be granted there. For if a soul is not 
tempted, tried, and proved through temptations and trials, its senses will 
not be strengthened in preparation for wisdom. It is said therefore in 
Ecclesiasticus: He who is not tempted, what does he know? And he who is not 
tried, what are the things he knows? [Ecclus. 34:9-10]. Jeremiah gives good 
testimony of this truth: You have chastised me, Lord, and I was instructed 
[Jer. 31:18]. 

14.4.(2). And the most fitting kind of chastisement for entering into 
wisdom consists of the interior trials we mentioned, since they most 
efficaciously purge the senses of all the satisfaction and consolation the 
soul was attached to through natural weakness. By these trials it is truly 
humbled in preparation for its coming exaltation. 

14.5. Yet we cannot say certainly how long the soul will be kept in this 
fast and penance of the senses. Not everyone undergoes this in the same 
way, neither are the temptations identical. All is meted out according to 
God's will and the greater or lesser amount of imperfection that must be 
purged from each one. In the measure of the degree of love to which God 
wishes to raise a soul, he humbles it with greater or less intensity, or 
for a longer or shorter period of time.

14.5.(2). Those who have more considerable capacity and strength for 
suffering, God purges more intensely and quickly. But those who are very 
weak he keeps in this night for a long time. Their purgation is less 
intense and their temptations abated, and he frequently refreshes their 
senses to keep them from backsliding. They arrive at the purity of 
perfection late in life. And some of them never reach it entirely, for they 
are never wholly in the night or wholly out of it. Although they do not 
advance, God exercises them for short periods and on certain days in those 
temptations and aridities to preserve them in humility and self-knowledge; 
and at other times and seasons he comes to their aid with consolation, lest 
through loss of courage they return to their search for worldly 
consolation. God acts with other weaker souls as though he were showing 
himself and then hiding; he does this to exercise them in his love, for 
without these withdrawals they would not learn to reach him.

14.6. Yet, as is evident through experience, souls who will pass on to so 
happy and lofty a state as is the union of love must usually remain in 
these aridities and temptations for a long while no matter how quickly God 
leads them. It is time to begin our treatise on the second night. 



BOOK TWO



CHAPTER 1


The beginning of the treatise on the dark night of the spirit. Explains 
when this night commences.

1.1. If His Majesty intends to lead the soul on, he does not put it in this 
dark night of spirit immediately after its going out from the aridities and 
trials of the first purgation and night of sense. Instead, after having 
emerged from the state of beginners, the soul usually spends many years 
exercising itself in the state of proficients. In this new state, as one 
liberated from a cramped prison cell, it goes about the things of God with 
much more freedom and satisfaction of spirit and with more abundant 
interior delight than it did in the beginning before entering the night of 
sense. Its imagination and faculties are no longer bound to discursive 
meditation and spiritual solicitude, as was their custom. The soul readily 
finds in its spirit, without the work of meditation, a very serene, loving 
contemplation and spiritual delight. Nonetheless, the purgation of the soul 
is not complete. The purgation of the principal part, that of the spirit, 
is lacking, and without it the sensory purgation, however strong it may 
have been, is incomplete because of a communication existing between the 
two parts of the soul that form only one suppositum. As a result, certain 
needs, aridities, darknesses, and conflicts are felt. These are sometimes 
far more intense than those of the past and are like omens or messengers of 
the coming night of the spirit. 

1.1.(2). But they are not lasting, as they will be in the night that is to 
come. For after enduring the short period or periods of time, or even days, 
in this night and tempest, the soul immediately returns to its customary 
serenity. Thus God purges some individuals who are not destined to ascend 
to so lofty a degree of love as are others. He brings them into this night 
of contemplation and spiritual purgation at intervals, frequently causing 
the night to come and then the dawn so that David's affirmation might be 
fulfilled: He sends his crystal (contemplation) like morsels [Ps. 147:17]. 
These morsels of dark contemplation, though, are never as intense as is 
that frightful night of contemplation we are about to describe, in which 
God places the soul purposely in order to bring it to divine union.

1.2. The delight and interior gratification that these proficients enjoy 
abundantly and readily is communicated more copiously to them than 
previously and consequently overflows into the senses more than was usual 
before the sensory purgation. Since the sensory part of the soul is now 
purer, it can, after its own mode, experience the delights of the spirit 
more easily. 

1.2.(2). But since, after all, the sensory part of the soul is weak and 
incapable of vigorous spiritual communications, these proficients, because 
of such communications experienced in the sensitive part, suffer many 
infirmities, injuries, and weaknesses of stomach, and as a result fatigue 
of spirit. The Wise Man says: The corruptible body is a load upon the soul 
[Wis. 9:15]. Consequently the communications imparted to proficients cannot 
be very strong or very intense or very spiritual, as is required for divine 
union, because of the weakness and corruption of the senses that have their 
share in them. 

1.2.(3). Thus we have raptures and transports and the dislocation of bones, 
which always occur when the communications are not purely spiritual 
(communicated to the spirit alone) as are those of the perfect, who are 
already purified by the night of spirit. The perfect enjoy freedom of 
spirit without their senses being clouded or transported, for in them these 
raptures and bodily torments cease.2

1.3. To point out why these proficients must enter this night of spirit, we 
will note some of their imperfections and some of the dangers they 
confront.3



CHAPTER 2


2. Other imperfections of these proficients.

2.1. The imperfections in these proficients are of two kinds: habitual and 
actual. The habitual are the imperfect affections and habits still 
remaining like roots in the spirit, for the sensory purgation could not 
reach the spirit. The difference between the two purgations is like the 
difference between pulling up roots or cutting off a branch, rubbing out a 
fresh stain or an old, deeply embedded one. As we said, the purgation of 
the senses is only the gate to and beginning of the contemplation that 
leads to the purgation of spirit. This sensitive purgation, as we also 
explained, serves more for the accommodation of the senses to the spirit 
than for the union of the spirit with God. The stains of the old self still 
linger in the spirit, although they may not be apparent or perceptible. If 
these are not wiped away by the use of the soap and strong lye of this 
purgative night, the spirit will be unable to reach the purity of divine 
union.

2.2. These proficients also have the hebetudo mentis, the natural dullness 
everyone contracts through sin, and a distracted and inattentive spirit.  
The spirit must be illumined, clarified, and recollected by means of the 
hardships and conflicts of this night. All those who have not passed beyond 
the state of proficients possess these habitual imperfections that cannot, 
as we said, coexist with the perfect state of the union of love. 

2.3. Not all these proficients fall into actual imperfections in the same 
way. Some encounter greater difficulties and dangers than those we 
mentioned, for their experience of these goods in the senses is so exterior 
and easily come by. They receive an abundance of spiritual communications 
and apprehensions in the sensory and spiritual parts of their souls and 
frequently behold imaginative and spiritual visions. All of this as well as 
other delightful feelings are the lot of those who are in this state, and a 
soul is often tricked through them by its own phantasy as well as by the 
devil. The devil finds it pleasing to suggest to souls and impress on them 
apprehensions and feelings. As a result of all this, these proficients are 
easily charmed and beguiled if they are not careful to renounce such 
apprehensions and feelings and energetically defend themselves through 
faith.

2.3.(2). This is the stage in which the devil induces many into believing 
vain visions and false prophecies. He strives to make them presume that God 
and the saints speak with them, and frequently they believe their phantasy. 
It is here that the devil customarily fills them with presumption and 
pride. Drawn by vanity and arrogance, they allow themselves to be seen in 
exterior acts of apparent holiness, such as raptures and other exhibitions. 
They become audacious with God and lose holy fear, which is the key to and 
guardian of all the virtues. Illusions and deceptions so multiply in some, 
and they become so inveterate in them, that it is very doubtful whether 
they will return to the pure road of virtue and authentic spirituality. 
They fall into these miseries by being too secure in their surrender to 
these apprehensions and spiritual feelings, and do this just when they were 
beginning to make progress along the way.

2.4. So much could be said about the imperfections of these proficients and 
of how irremediable they are -- since proficients think their blessings are 
more spiritual than formerly -- that I desire to pass over the matter. I 
only assert, in order to establish the necessity of the spiritual night 
(the purgation) for anyone who is to advance, that no proficients, however 
strenuous their efforts, will avoid many of these natural affections and 
imperfect habits. These must be purified before one may pass on to divine 
union.

2.5. Furthermore, to repeat what was said above, these spiritual 
communications cannot be so intense, so pure, and so vigorous as is 
requisite for this union, because the lower part of the soul still shares 
in them. Thus, to reach union, the soul must enter the second night of the 
spirit. In this night both the sensory and spiritual parts are despoiled of 
all these apprehensions and delights, and the soul is made to walk in dark 
and pure faith, which is the proper and adequate means to divine union, as 
God says through Hosea: I will espouse you (unite you) to me through faith 
[Hos. 2:20]. 



CHAPTER 3


3. An explanation for what is to follow.

3.1. These souls, then, are now proficients. Their senses have been fed 
with sweet communications so that, allured by the gratification flowing 
from the spirit, they could be accommodated and united to the spirit. Each 
part of the soul can now in its own way receive nourishment from the same 
spiritual food and from the same dish of only one suppositum and subject. 
These two parts thus united and conformed are jointly prepared to suffer 
the rough and arduous purgation of the spirit that awaits them. In this 
purgation, these two portions of the soul will undergo complete 
purification, for one part is never adequately purged without the other. 
The real purgation of the senses begins with the spirit. Hence the night of 
the senses we explained should be called a certain reformation and bridling 
of the appetite rather than a purgation. The reason is that all the 
imperfections and disorders of the sensory part are rooted in the spirit 
and from it receive their strength. All good and evil habits reside in the 
spirit and until these habits are purged, the senses cannot be completely 
purified of their rebellions and vices.

3.2. In this night that follows both parts are jointly purified. This was 
the purpose of the reformation of the first night and the calm that 
resulted from it: that the sensory part, united in a certain way with the 
spirit, might undergo purgation and suffering with greater fortitude. Such 
is the fortitude necessary for so strong and arduous a purgation that if 
the lower part in its weakness is not reformed first, and afterward 
strengthened in God through the experience of sweet and delightful 
communion with him, it has neither the fortitude nor the preparedness to 
endure it.

3.3. These proficients are still very lowly and natural in their communion 
with God and in their activity directed toward him because the gold of the 
spirit is not purified and illumined. They still think of God and speak of 
him as little children, and their knowledge and experience of him is like 
that of little children, as St. Paul asserts [1 Cor. 13:11]. The reason is 
that they have not reached perfection, which is union of the soul with God. 
Through this union, as fully grown, they do mighty works in their spirit 
since their faculties and works are more divine than human, as we will 
point out. Wishing to strip them in fact of this old self and clothe them 
with the new, which is created according to God in the newness of sense, as 
the Apostle says [Col. 3:9-10; Eph. 4:22-24; Rom. 12:2], God divests the 
faculties, affections, and senses, both spiritual and sensory, interior and 
exterior. He leaves the intellect in darkness, the will in aridity, the 
memory in emptiness, and the affections in supreme affliction, bitterness, 
and anguish by depriving the soul of the feeling and satisfaction it 
previously obtained from spiritual blessings. For this privation is one of 
the conditions required that the spiritual form, which is the union of 
love, may be introduced into the spirit and united with it. 

3.3.(2). The Lord works all of this in the soul by means of a pure and dark 
contemplation, as is indicated in the first stanza. Although we explained 
this stanza in reference to the first night of the senses, the soul 
understands it mainly in relation to this second night of the spirit, since 
this night is the principal purification of the soul. With this in mind, we 
will quote it and explain it again.1



CHAPTER 4


4. The first stanza and its explanation.

			First Stanza
		     One dark night,
		     fired with love's urgent longings
		      -- ah, the sheer grace! -- 
		     I went out unseen,
		     my house being now all stilled.

			[Explanation]
4.1. Understanding this stanza now to refer to contemplative purgation or 
nakedness and poverty of spirit (which are all about the same),1 we can 
thus explain it, as though the soul says:

4.1.(2). Poor, abandoned, and unsupported by any of the apprehensions of my 
soul (in the darkness of my intellect, the distress of my will, and the 
affliction and anguish of my memory), left to darkness in pure faith, which 
is a dark night for these natural faculties, and with my will touched only 
by sorrows, afflictions, and longings of love of God, I went out from 
myself. That is, I departed from my low manner of understanding, and my 
feeble way of loving, and my poor and limited method of finding 
satisfaction in God. I did this unhindered by either the flesh or the 
devil.

4.2. This was great happiness and a sheer grace for me, because through the 
annihilation and calming of my faculties, passions, appetites, and 
affections, by which my experience and satisfaction in God were base, I 
went out from my human operation and way of acting to God's operation and 
way of acting. That is: 

4.2.(2). My intellect departed from itself, changing from human and natural 
to divine. For united with God through this purgation, it no longer 
understands by means of its natural vigor and light, but by means of the 
divine wisdom to which it was united. And my will departed from itself and 
became divine. United with the divine love, it no longer loves in a lowly 
manner, with its natural strength, but with the strength and purity of the 
Holy Spirit; and thus the will does not operate humanly in relation to God.

4.2.(3). The memory, too, was changed into presentiments of eternal glory.

4.2.(4). And finally, all the strength and affections of the soul, by means 
of this night and purgation of the old self, are renewed with divine 
qualities and delights.2

4.2.(5). An explanation of the first verse follows:
			One dark night,



CHAPTER 5


5. Begins to explain how this dark contemplation is not only night for the 
soul but also affliction and torment. 

5.1. This dark night is an inflow of God into the soul, which purges it of 
its habitual ignorances and imperfections, natural and spiritual, and which 
the contemplatives call infused contemplation or mystical theology.1 
Through this contemplation, God teaches the soul secretly and instructs it 
in the perfection of love without its doing anything or understanding how 
this happens.

5.1.(2). Insofar as infused contemplation is loving wisdom of God, it 
produces two principal effects in the soul: by both purging and illumining, 
this contemplation prepares the soul for union with God through love. Hence 
the same loving wisdom that purges and illumines the blessed spirits purges 
and illumines the soul here on earth.

5.2. Yet a doubt arises: Why, if it is a divine light (for it illumines 
souls and purges them of their ignorance), does the soul call it a dark 
night? In answer to this, there are two reasons this divine wisdom is not 
only night and darkness for the soul but also affliction and torment. 
First, because of the height of the divine wisdom that exceeds the 
abilities of the soul; and on this account the wisdom is dark for the soul. 
Second, because of the soul's baseness and impurity; and on this account 
the wisdom is painful, afflictive, and also dark for the soul.2

5.3. To prove the first reason, we must presuppose a certain principle of 
the Philosopher: that the clearer and more obvious divine things are in 
themselves, the darker and more hidden they are to the soul naturally.3 The 
brighter the light, the more the owl is blinded; and the more one looks at 
the brilliant sun, the more the sun darkens the faculty of sight, deprives 
and overwhelms it in its weakness.

5.3.(2). Hence when the divine light of contemplation strikes a soul not 
yet entirely illumined, it causes spiritual darkness, for it not only 
surpasses the act of natural understanding but it also deprives the soul of 
this act and darkens it. This is why St. Dionysius and other mystical 
theologians call this infused contemplation a "ray of darkness" -- that is, 
for the soul not yet illumined and purged.4 For this great supernatural 
light overwhelms the intellect and deprives it of its natural vigor. 

5.3.(3). David also said that clouds and darkness are near God and surround 
him [Ps. 18:11], not because this is true in itself, but because it appears 
thus to our weak intellects, which in being unable to attain so bright a 
light are blinded and darkened. Hence he next declared that clouds passed 
before the great splendor of his presence [Ps. 18:12], that is, between God 
and our intellect. As a result, when God communicates this bright ray of 
his secret wisdom to the soul not yet transformed, he causes thick darkness 
in its intellect.

5.4. It is also evident that this dark contemplation is painful to the soul 
in these beginnings. Since this divine infused contemplation has many 
extremely good properties, and the still unpurged soul that receives it has 
many extreme miseries, and because two contraries cannot coexist in one 
subject, the soul must necessarily undergo affliction and suffering. 
Because of the purgation of its imperfections caused by this contemplation, 
the soul becomes a battlefield in which these two contraries combat one 
another. We will prove this by induction in the following way.

5.5. In regard to the first cause of one's affliction: Because the light 
and wisdom of this contemplation is very bright and pure, and the soul in 
which it shines is dark and impure, a person will be deeply afflicted on 
receiving it. When eyes are sickly, impure, and weak, they suffer pain if a 
bright light shines on them.

5.5.(2). The soul, because of its impurity, suffers immensely at the time 
this divine light truly assails it. When this pure light strikes in order 
to expel all impurity, persons feel so unclean and wretched that it seems 
God is against them and they are against God.

5.5.(3). Because it seems that God has rejected it, the soul suffers such 
pain and grief that when God tried Job in this way it proved one of the 
worst of Job's trials, as he says: Why have You set me against You, and I 
am heavy and burdensome to myself? [Jb. 7:20]. Clearly beholding its 
impurity by means of this pure light, although in darkness, the soul 
understands distinctly that it is worthy neither of God nor of any 
creature. And what most grieves it is that it thinks it will never be 
worthy, and there are no more blessings for it. This divine and dark light 
causes deep immersion of the mind in the knowledge and feeling of one's own 
miseries and evils; it brings all these miseries into relief so the soul 
sees clearly that of itself it will never possess anything else. We can 
interpret that passage from David in this sense: You have corrected humans 
because of their iniquity and have undone and consumed their souls, as a 
spider is eviscerated in its work [Ps. 39:11].

5.6. Persons suffer affliction in the second manner because of their 
natural, moral, and spiritual weakness. Since this divine contemplation 
assails them somewhat forcibly in order to subdue and strengthen their 
soul, they suffer so much in their weakness that they almost die, 
particularly at times when the light is more powerful. Both the sense and 
the spirit, as though under an immense and dark load, undergo such agony 
and pain that the soul would consider death a relief. The prophet Job, 
having experienced this, declared: I do not desire that he commune with me 
with much strength lest he overwhelm me with the weight of his greatness 
[Jb. 23:6].

5.7. Under the stress of this oppression and weight, individuals feel so 
far from all favor that they think, and so it is, that even that which 
previously upheld them has ended, along with everything else, and there is 
no one who will take pity on them. It is in this sense that Job also cried 
out: Have pity on me, at least you, my friends, for the hand of the Lord 
has touched me [Jb. 19:21].

5.7.(2). How amazing and pitiful it is that the soul be so utterly weak and 
impure that the hand of God, though light and gentle, should feel so heavy 
and contrary. For the hand of God does not press down or weigh on the soul, 
but only touches it; and this mercifully, for God's aim is to grant it 
favors and not to chastise it.



CHAPTER 6


6. Other kinds of affliction suffered in this night.

6.1. The two extremes, divine and human, which are joined here, produce the 
third kind of pain and affliction the soul suffers at this time. The divine 
extreme is the purgative contemplation, and the human extreme is the soul, 
the receiver of this contemplation. Since the divine extreme strikes in 
order to renew the soul and divinize it (by stripping it of the habitual 
affections and properties of the old self to which the soul is strongly 
united, attached, and conformed), it so disentangles and dissolves the 
spiritual substance -- absorbing it in a profound darkness -- that the soul 
at the sight of its miseries feels that it is melting away and being undone 
by a cruel spiritual death. It feels as if it were swallowed by a beast and 
being digested in the dark belly, and it suffers an anguish comparable to 
Jonah's in the belly of the whale [Jon. 2:1-3]. It is fitting that the soul 
be in this sepulcher of dark death in order that it attain the spiritual 
resurrection for which it hopes.

6.2. David describes this suffering and affliction -- although it is truly 
beyond all description -- when he says: The sighs of death encircled me, 
the sorrows of hell surrounded me, in my tribulation I cried out [Ps. 18:5-
6].

6.2.(2). But what the sorrowing soul feels most is the conviction that God 
has rejected it, and with abhorrence cast it into darkness. The thought 
that God has abandoned it is a piteous and heavy affliction for the soul. 
When David also felt this affliction he cried: In the manner of the 
wounded, dead in the sepulchers, abandoned now by your hand so that you 
remember them no longer, so have you placed me in the deepest and lowest 
lake, in the darkness and shadow of death, and your wrath weighs on me, and 
all your waves you have let loose on me [Ps. 88:4-7].

6.2.(3). When this purgative contemplation oppresses a soul, it feels very 
vividly indeed the shadow of death, the sighs of death, and the sorrows of 
hell, all of which reflect the feeling of God's absence, of being chastised 
and rejected by him, and of being unworthy of him, as well as the object of 
his anger. The soul experiences all this and even more, for now it seems 
that this affliction will last forever.

6.3. Such persons also feel forsaken and despised by creatures, 
particularly by their friends. David immediately adds: You have withdrawn 
my friends and acquaintances far from me; they have considered me an 
abomination [Ps. 88:8]. Jonah, as one who also underwent this experience, 
both physically and spiritually in the belly of the whale, testifies: You 
have cast me out into the deep, into the heart of the sea, and the current 
surrounded me; all its whirlpools and waves passed over me and I said: I am 
cast from the sight of your eyes; yet I shall see your holy temple again 
(he says this because God purifies the soul that it might see his temple); 
the waters encircled me even to the soul, the abyss went round about me, 
the open sea covered my head, I descended to the lowest parts of the 
mountains, the locks of the earth closed me up forever [Jon. 2:4-7]. The 
"locks" refer to the soul's imperfections that hinder it from enjoying the 
delights of this contemplation.

6.4. Another excellence of dark contemplation, its majesty and grandeur, 
causes a fourth kind of affliction to the soul. This property makes the 
soul feel within itself the other extreme -- its own intimate poverty and 
misery. Such awareness is one of the chief afflictions it suffers in the 
purgation.

6.4.(2). The soul experiences an emptiness and poverty in regard to three 
classes of goods (temporal, natural, and spiritual) which are directed 
toward pleasing it, and is conscious of being placed in the midst of the 
contrary evils (the miseries of imperfections, aridities and voids in the 
apprehensions of the faculties, and an abandonment of the spirit in 
darkness).

6.4.(3). Since God here purges both the sensory and spiritual substance of 
the soul, and its interior and exterior faculties, it is appropriately 
brought into emptiness, poverty, and abandonment in these parts, and left 
in dryness and darkness. For the sensory part is purified by aridity, the 
faculties by the void of their apprehensions, and the spirit by thick 
darkness. 

6.5. God does all this by means of dark contemplation. And the soul not 
only suffers the void and suspension of these natural supports and 
apprehensions, which is a terrible anguish (like hanging in midair, unable 
to breathe), but it is also purged by this contemplation. As fire consumes 
the tarnish and rust of metal, this contemplation annihilates, empties, and 
consumes all the affections and imperfect habits the soul contracted 
throughout its life. Since these imperfections are deeply rooted in the 
substance of the soul, in addition to this poverty, this natural and 
spiritual emptiness, it usually suffers an oppressive undoing and an inner 
torment. Thus the passage of Ezekiel may be verified: Heap together the 
bones, and I shall burn them in the fire, the flesh shall be consumed, and 
the whole composition burned, and the bones destroyed [Ez. 24:10). He 
refers here to the affliction suffered in the emptiness and poverty of both 
the sensory and the spiritual substance of the soul. And he then adds: 
Place it also thus empty on the embers that its metal may become hot and 
melt and its uncleanness be taken away from it and its rust consumed [Ez. 
24:11]. This passage points out the heavy affliction the soul suffers from 
the purgation caused by the fire of this contemplation. For the prophet 
asserts that in order to burn away the rust of the affections the soul 
must, as it were, be annihilated and undone in the measure that these 
passions and imperfections are connatural to it.

6.6. Because the soul is purified in this forge like gold in the crucible, 
as the Wise Man says [Wis. 3:6], it feels both this terrible undoing in its 
very substance and extreme poverty as though it were approaching its end. 
This experience is expressed in David's cry: Save me, Lord, for the waters 
have come in even unto my soul; I am stuck in the mire of the deep, and 
there is nowhere to stand; I have come unto the depth of the sea, and the 
tempest has overwhelmed me. I have labored in crying out, my throat has 
become hoarse, my eyes have failed while I hope in my God [Ps. 69:1-3].

6.6.(2). God humbles the soul greatly in order to exalt it greatly 
afterward. And if he did not ordain that these feelings, when quickened in 
the soul, be soon put to sleep again, a person would die in a few days. 
Only at intervals is one aware of these feelings in all their intensity. 
Sometimes this experience is so vivid that it seems to the soul that it 
sees hell and perdition open before it. These are the ones who go down into 
hell alive [Ps. 55:15], since their purgation on earth is similar to what 
takes place there. For this purgation is what would have to be undergone 
there. The soul that endures it here on earth either does not enter that 
place, or is detained there for only a short while. It gains more in one 
hour here on earth by this purgation than it would in many there. 



CHAPTER 7


7.A continuation of the same subject; other afflictions and straits of the 
will.

7.1. The afflictions and straits of the will are also immense. Sometimes 
these afflictions pierce the soul when it suddenly remembers the evils in 
which it sees itself immersed, and it becomes uncertain of any remedy. To 
this pain is added the remembrance of past prosperity, because usually 
persons who enter this night have previously had many consolations in God 
and rendered him many services. They are now sorrowful in knowing that they 
are far from such good and can no longer enjoy it. Job tells also of his 
affliction: I who was wont to be wealthy and rich am suddenly undone and 
broken; he has taken me by the neck, he has broken me and set me up as his 
mark so as to wound me. He has surrounded me with his lances, he wounded 
all my loins, he has not pardoned, he has scattered my bowels on the 
ground, he has torn me with wound upon wound, he has attacked me like a 
strong giant. I sewed sackcloth upon my skin and covered my flesh with 
ashes. My face is swollen with weeping, and my eyes blinded [Jb. 16:12-16].

7.2. So numerous and burdensome are the pains of this night, and so many 
are the scriptural passages we could cite that we would have neither the 
time nor the energy to put it all in writing; and, doubtless, all that we 
can possibly say would fall short of expressing what this night really is. 
Through the texts already quoted we have some idea of it.

7.2.(2). To conclude my commentary on this verse and further explain what 
this night causes in the soul, I will refer to what Jeremiah felt in it. 
Because his tribulations were so terrible, he speaks of them and weeps over 
them profusely: I am the man who sees my poverty in the rod of his 
indignation. He has led me and brought me into darkness and not into light. 
He has turned and turned again his hand against me all the day. He has made 
my skin and my flesh old; he has broken my bones. He has built a fence 
round about me; and he has surrounded me with gall and labor. He has set me 
in darkness, as those who are dead forever. He has made a fence around me 
and against me that I might not go out; he has made my fetters heavy. And 
also when I might have cried out and entreated, he has shut out my prayer. 
He has closed up my exits and ways with square stones; he has destroyed my 
paths. He is become to me like a bear lying in wait, as a lion in hiding. 
He has turned aside my paths, and broken me in pieces; he has made me 
desolate. He has bent his bow and set me as a mark for his arrow. He has 
shot into my reins the daughters of his quiver. I have become a derision to 
all the people, and laughter and scorn for them all the day. He has filled 
me with bitterness, he has inebriated me with absinthe. One by one he has 
broken my teeth; he has fed me with ashes. My soul is far removed from 
peace. I have forgotten good things. And I said: My end, my aim and my hope 
from the Lord is frustrated and finished. Remember my poverty and my 
distress, the absinthe and the gall. I shall be mindful and remember, and 
my soul will languish within me in afflictions [Lam. 3:1-20].

7.3. Jeremiah gives vent to all these lamentations about his afflictions 
and trials and depicts very vividly the sufferings of a soul in this 
purgation and spiritual night.

7.3.(2). One ought to have deep compassion for the soul God puts in this 
tempestuous and frightful night. It may be true that the soul is fortunate 
because of what is being accomplished within it, for great blessings will 
proceed from this night; and Job affirms that out of darkness God will 
raise up in the soul profound blessings and change the shadow of death into 
light [Jb. 12:22]; and God will do this in such a way that, as David says, 
the light will become what the darkness was [Ps. 139:12]. Nevertheless, the 
soul is deserving of great pity because of the immense tribulation and the 
suffering of extreme uncertainty about a remedy. It believes, as Jeremiah 
says [Lam. 3:18], that its evil will never end. And it feels as David that 
God has placed it in darkness like the dead of old, and that its spirit as 
a result is in anguish within it and its heart troubled [Ps. 143:3-4].

7.3.(3). Added to this, because of the solitude and desolation this night 
causes, is the fact that individuals in this state find neither consolation 
nor support in any doctrine or spiritual master. Although their spiritual 
director may point out many reasons for comfort on account of the blessings 
contained in these afflictions, they cannot believe this. Because they are 
engulfed and immersed in that feeling of evil by which they so clearly see 
their own miseries, they believe their directors say these things because 
they do not understand them and do not see what they themselves see and 
feel. Instead of consolation they experience greater sorrow, thinking that 
the director's doctrine is no remedy for their evil. Indeed, it is not a 
remedy, for until the Lord finishes purging them in the way he desires, no 
remedy is a help to them in their sorrow. Their helplessness is even 
greater because of the little they can do in this situation. They resemble 
one who is imprisoned in a dark dungeon, bound hands and feet, and able 
neither to move nor see nor feel any favor from heaven or earth. They 
remain in this condition until their spirit is humbled, softened, and 
purified, until it becomes so delicate, simple, and refined that it can be 
one with the Spirit of God, according to the degree of union of love that 
God, in his mercy, desires to grant. In conformity with this degree, the 
purgation is of greater or lesser force and endures for a longer or shorter 
time.

7.4. But if it is to be truly efficacious, it will last for some years, no 
matter how intense it may be; although there are intervals in which, 
through God's dispensation, this dark contemplation ceases to assail the 
soul in a purgative mode and shines upon it illuminatively and lovingly. 
Then the soul, like one who has been unshackled and released from a dungeon 
and who can enjoy the benefit of spaciousness and freedom, experiences 
great sweetness of peace and loving friendship with God in a ready 
abundance of spiritual communication. 

7.4.(2). This illumination is for the soul a sign of the health the 
purgation is producing within it and a foretaste of the abundance for which 
it hopes. Sometimes the experience is so intense that it seems to the soul 
that its trials are over. For when the graces imparted are more purely 
spiritual they have this trait: When they are trials, it seems to a soul 
that it will never be liberated from them and that no more blessings await 
it, as was mentioned in the passages previously cited; when they are 
spiritual goods, the soul believes its evils have passed and it will no 
longer lack blessings, as David confessed on being aware of these goods: I 
said in my abundance: I shall never move [Ps. 30:6].

7.5. The soul experiences this because in the spirit the possession of one 
contrary removes of itself the actual possession and feeling of the other 
contrary. This does not occur in the sensory part because of the weakness 
of its apprehensive power. But since the spirit is not yet completely 
purged and cleansed of affections contracted from the lower part, it can, 
insofar as it is affected by them, be changed and suffer affliction, 
although insofar as it is a spirit it does not change. We note that David 
changed and experienced many afflictions and evils, although in the time of 
hi