SOURCE: E. J. Arnould, "Richard Rolle of Hampole," in The Month, Vol. 23, No. 1, January, 1960, pp. 13-25.

[In the essay below, Arnould seeks to synthesize the divergent portraits of Rolle that have dominated, one portraying him as wholly saintly, and the other as largely wild and tempermental. In his effort to draw a more complex picture of Rolle's character, Arnould examines the De Emendatione Vitae, the Incendium Amoris; and the Melos Amoris.]

The fourteenth century was the heyday of English mysticism and is also famous for its hermits and anchorites. Richard Rolle, whose life-span covers the first half of the century, has a marked place among both hermits and mystics.¹ Professor R. W. Chambers has observed that "in English or in Latin Rolle was, during the latter half of the fourteenth century and the whole of the fifteenth, probably the most widely read in England of all English writers." His works came to be regarded by later generations as standards of orthodoxy—a fact attested not only by the numerous copies that found their way into the libraries of many religious houses on the Continent as well as in England, but also by the spurious ascription to him of popular books of common doctrine (such as the Pricke of Conscience, of which over one hundred copies have survived to this day); and, above all, by tributes paid to him well into the times of the Counter-Reformation, when he was still acclaimed as Strenuus ac divinus catholicae fidei athleta Ricardus, the valiant and godly champion of the catholic faith.

That Richard Rolle died in the odour of sanctity is attested by a Latin Office written in anticipation of his beatification, complete with the miraculous cures worked on his tomb in the precincts of Hampole monastery in Yorkshire. This Office is our main source of information on Richard's life. It depicts for us a young man of fiery temperament, who, after a few years at Oxford and at home, one day resolutely turned away from what he called his sinful youth, ruthlessly cut himself off from his worldly environment and thenceforth strove, amidst difficulties and temptations, towards union with God in solitary contemplation.

Such a summary portrait is amply confirmed and completed by Rolle's own writings—providing these are read in full and without bias. These two conditions, unfortunately, have not always been fulfilled even by competent and sympathetic scholars. As a result, a very inaccurate picture of Rolle has, until recent times, been offered to us. He came to be described, on the one hand, as a Doctor of Theology and a student of the Sorbonne, even a priest, and, on the other, as a rebel against Church authorities and a declared enemy of some religious houses. Fortunately, these inaccuracies and distortions have now been rectified, thanks to the careful editing of Rolle's main works. He appears to us in a truer light, as a dedicated young man with a sound theological training, steeped in the reading of the Bible, bent on achieving the perfection of union with God and, not unnaturally, anxious to draw disciples to his own way of life both by his example and his writings. No evidence can be found for suggesting that Rolle ever swerved from his allegiance to the Church. Throughout his life his motto remained: I bow in alle thynge till the lare of Halykirke, "I submit in everything to the teaching of Holy Church." Nor did his charity exclude even his detractors: "I have loved those who despised me. I did not call perdition upon those who derided or slandered me. I have always loved those who opposed me and denounced me as worthy of contempt." His exultation over God's gifts to him emanated not from pride but from the gratitude of a candid mind, the true mark of humility: Non sic lingua nostra appetat humilitatem ut veritatem relinquat, "let not our tongue thirst for humility to the extent of forsaking the truth."

Rolle was a prolific writer, and his works are far from presenting a uniform pattern. If we omit the delightful Canticum Amoris, a youthful outpouring of his love for the Mother of God² and fragments of doubtful authenticity, they may be classified into three groups, each of which corresponds to a particular stage or aspect of Rolle's spiritual career.

First we have the didactic writings, which belong to the traditional type of medieval devotional literature. They are nearly always commentaries of some Scriptural text or texts, and essentially compilations from previous authorities. Such are Rolle's Latin commentaries on the Magnificat or on Psalm XX, or on the first chapters of the Apocalypse, and two complete commentaries of the Psalms, one in Latin, one in English. These works, particularly the English Psalter (which is not, as has been asserted, a mere replica of Rolle's Latin Psalter), bear the stamp of our hermit's mind, and offer a good deal of corroborative evidence on his views and experiences.

Far more original and representative is a small group of treatises, which though they have the traditional ring, nevertheless contain many passages displaying the exclusive characteristics of his very personal style. The most important of these are the Judica me Deus (which takes its title from the 42nd Psalm), the De Emendatione Vitae, and the Form of Living.

The first part of the Judica reveals a youthful Rolle, the apprentice-hermit (si heremita dicerer, cuius nomine indigne vocor, "if I were called hermit, a name which I bear unworthily"), endeavouring to help a young priest-friend by compiling for him a manual of the chief duties of a parish priest, including a model sermon on the Last Judgment. The compilation is rather amateurish, and mainly derived from an almost contemporary Latin work known as Pars Oculi or Oculus Sacerdotis.

The De Emendatione Vitae³ is of greater interest. Written for every Christian who aspires to a life of total dedication, it reflects Rolle's circumstances at this stage of his own spiritual progress. He describes his first steps in the way, from the contempt and renunciation of the world, through the practice of a regular and devout life and especially the meditation of Our Lord's Passion, up to the higher regions of love and contemplation. Noli tardare, "do not delay your conversion," begins Rolle. He describes conversion as "turning our minds towards Jesus and ceaselessly meditating on his counsels and commandments, with the resolve to follow and obey them." The obstacles (wealth, feminine charms, the grace and beauty of youth, that "threefold cord that is not easily broken") must be overcome through persistence. Contempt of wordly possessions is equally essential, for "attachment to worldly goods and the love of God are incompatible: the couch is so narrow that one of the bed-fellows must fall off." As a logical sequel, poverty becomes a necessary condition—poverty not only in fact, but in spirit, that is without regret, afterthought, or envy of others—humility of mind and heart.

Learn from me, says Jesus, for I am meek and humble in heart. He does not say: Learn from me because I am poor. Poverty is not a virtue in itself, it is misery. It is not worthy of praise in itself, but only a means of perfection: it helps us to gain Heaven and spares us many occasions of sin. …

When these first obstacles have been removed, it is necessary to devise a rule of life for oneself. One must first eliminate what pollutes the soul, sins of thought, speech, and deed; next, seek what purifies it, contrition, confession, satisfaction, fasting, prayer, alms-giving; thirdly, safeguard the soul's purity—purity of thought by constant meditation, control of the senses, honest occupation such as reading, pious conversation, writing or other useful work; purity of speech, by re flecting before speaking, by avoiding idle talk, and showing a horror of untruth; purity of deed by temperance, avoidance of corrupting company, and meditation on death; fourthly, one must try to make one's will conform to the will of God, mainly by seeing His image in His creatures, by trying to live in familiarity with Him through prayer and meditation, and by thinking of the happiness of heaven. This happiness can be partially enjoyed in contemplation.

In this state of spiritual well-being, however, new obstacles must be expected and overcome—the tribulations which tempt us to look back towards worldly comforts. The remedy for this is the virtue of patience sustained by the thought of the rewards that await perseverance, and of the alternative facing us: material happiness in this world and eternal suffering in the next, or patient suffering on this earth and eternal bliss thereafter. In this serenity and firmness of purpose the soul is free to labour towards its goal: union with God. Prayer is the essential and consistent activity, one enriched by the reading of the Scriptures, one that grows easier by practice, until every action is itself a form of prayer. Its most important form is meditation—on the great mysteries of God's love, on the vanity of the world (a clear echo, this, of Pope Innocent Ill's classic work De contemptu mundi), and the mysteries of faith.

Finally, the soul reaches that "purity of heart that makes one see God and is accompanied by such joy and happiness that one feels these can never again be lost." Continuous enjoyment of this love is ensured by contemplation, the essential occupation of the soul dedicated to God. "The sweetness of contemplation is only acquired at the cost of immense efforts," but these efforts (later unnecessary, as Rolle himself emphasises in his later works) are soon munificently rewarded: "For, what is grace, if not the beginning of glory And what is the perfection of glory, if not the consummation of grace, which holds in reserve for us a glorious eternity and an eternal glory?" Thus ends the De Emendatione Vitae.

The Form of Perfect Living is an adaptation of the De Emendatione Vitae. A classic of the Middle English devotional literature, it was written for a recluse named Margaret, probably the lady Margaret of whom the Office states that "Richard loved her with the perfect affection of Charity." Far from omitting the advice given to beginners in the De Emendatione, Rolle insists, here, too, on the main obstacles to conversion and the main snares of the Devil. He proclaims the greatness of the solitary life, but warns of its dangers (various temptations, excessive fondness of material ease, dreams and other illusions or delusions). He defines holiness: "Those alone are holy, whatever their status or position, who desire no earthly thing beyond their bare needs, who burn with the love of Jesus, and are bent on emjoying heavenly bliss." But he speaks at greater length than in the De Emendatione on the love of God, that same "insuperable, inseparable, singular" love, centred on the devotion to the Holy Name, one of Rolle's own favourite devotions in his youth. At some greater length, Rolle again defines this love: "a burning yearning for God, accompanied by a wonderful pleasure and sweetness, that makes us one with God." And, while clearly stating that "no man on earth can with certainty or without a special grace know whether he is in the state of perfect charity or not," Rolle enumerates seven signs by which one may feel confident of living in union with God.

Inevitably, the Form of Perfect Living ends with a chapter on the active and the contemplative modes of life, which is a concise summary of Rolle's views on the subject. Rolle is clearly biased in favour of the solitary life. We know that he was, at one time, engaged in a heated controversy on this question with partisans of the "regular" life in some order or community. But his views are well supported by authorities such as St. Bernard and St. Thomas Aquinas. He also distinguishes at least two grades in the contemplative life: one, the more common, is essentially a life of prayer and meditation, the other is the mystic stage more akin to rapture or even ecstasy. The latter, Rolle points out, is a "gratuitous gift," and the indescribable joy it affords finds its expression in "inexpressible praise of God"—a remark aptly illustrated by his later and larger works, the Incendium Amoris⁴ and the Melos Amoris.⁵ These two works are his masterpieces. They reflect Rolle's maturity in the contemplative life. Both are eminently personal.

The Incendium Amoris remains the more accessible. Since it contains a comprehensive account of Rolle's mystical career, apart from its final stages, a brief summary of its scope and contents will not be amiss:

The Incendium Amoris [writes Miss Deanesly] is a rambling biography, an explanation of "how Richard Hampole came to the Fire of Love"…. The purpose of the book is described in the Prologue: "I have wondered more than I can tell," Rolle says, "when first I felt my heart grow warm and glow with no imaginary but with a real and, as it were, sensible flame. For I had not reckoned that such a warmth could happen to any man in this exile…. Therefore I offer this book to the sight, not of philosophers and wise men of this world, nor of great theologians wrapped in endless questionings, but of the simple and untaught, those who seek to love God rather than to know many things. For not by disputing, but by doing, is He known, and by loving…. Wherefore, because here I incite all to love, and I shall seek to explain the burning and supernatural feeling of love, let this book be allotted the title of Fire of Love."

The book itself takes forty-two chapters to accomplish this end. In the Prologue, Rolle states his own desire to prove to others the joy of the life he has himself chosen. The next eleven chapters are devoted to considerations preliminary to the understanding of such a life; then come two chapters [XII and XV] where he passes from advice to autobiography and which contain most of the passages quoted in the Office. The remaining chapters are mainly a series of discourses strung together with no particular plan, on the various difficulties of the contemplative life, interspersed with prayers and meditations which are the Latin counterpart of Rolle's better known Middle English work…. The main idea of the book is simply: that the solitary finds Him whom he loves with a rapture and completeness no other life can afford. …

The Melos Amoris (wrongly called Melum Contemplativorum by Horstman and others after him) has been edited from all extant manuscripts: these are only ten in number, and, when we compare it with the ninety or so manuscripts of the Incendium Amoris, this number is significant. For the Melos is written in a curious kind of medieval Latin which accounts not only for the small number of manuscripts extant, but for the long-felt want of a complete printed text, as also for the absence of a translation. It is indeed doubtful whether such an extraordinary book can ever be satisfactorily translated. Certainly, no translation could hope to render the unique effect of the most lyrical and most alliterative Latin prose ever written. This style, highly artificial in appearance, yet quite spontaneous, has a charm of its own and is an instrument perfectly attuned for the expression of mystical experiences.

The Melos takes up where the Incendium left off: it carries us one stage further, and the emphasis is now on the climax of Rolle's mysticism: the melody. Having reached full enjoyment of union with God, Rolle is now less inclined to refer to the past or to preach a message. Although he still describes his endeavours, and the favours he has received, in order to encourage others, he is mostly concerned with the expression of joy and gratitude. Whatever the precise chronology of Rolle's works, there is no doubt that his Melos Amoris marks the climax in the spiritual elevation of the hermit. The apotheosis of Love which he describes there is, to him, a foretaste of the joys of heaven.

The last few pages of the book, on "the glory of the saints" as promulgated at the Last Judgment, are the fitting culmination of the many chapters he has devoted to "the perfection of the saints," as exemplified in his own spiritual pilgrimage. His conclusion is a farewell: "I now proceed towards a happy end—for I have nearly completed my arduous progress—in order that, trampling corruption under foot, I may find consummation in song." Either Rolle foresses the end of his earthly pilgrimage, or, more probably, having achieved the aim he had set himself, he now prepares to enjoy this highest gift, the melos, to the full.

From all these works of Rolle there emerges a fairly clear picture of his activities, of his experiences, and even of his temperament. For none of them, however traditional in character, is totally devoid of some autobiographical element. One gets the impression of a man with a sound university training—witness his expert handling of the Latin language both in verse and prose—particularly familiar with the Old and New Testaments, but bent on his own purpose (singulare propositum) and, in spite of his dependence on the traditional and Patristic literature, largely independent in the elaboration of his views on spiritual matters. This independence, however, entails no breach either of orthodoxy or charity. And it must be noted that on the few points of dogma to which he has occasion to refer, such as the question of predestination, the authority of the Scriptures, or the infallibility of the Church, his orthodoxy is unimpeachable. Again, when describing his own mystical experiences, he acknowledges these not as rewards for his endeavours, but as free gifts from God's bounty: nor does he claim credit for them, except, perhaps, in so far as he has striven to prepare for them. Even so, he does not present them as purely arbitrary privileges. It follows that his own case is not presented merely as an object of wonder and envy, but as an example containing a practical lesson even for beginners in the way of spiritual perfection.

Rolle's spiritual pilgrimage began with his "conversion." The Office gives a lively and somewhat melodramatic picture of a young man, freshly returned from Oxford, running away from home and friends, making for himself a crude hermit's outfit with one of his sister's dresses; and, a little later, boldly standing up in church, marching up to the pulpit—admittedly with the approval of the parish priest—and delivering an extempore sermon which those present declared to be the finest they had ever heard. Whatever the facts behind these highly-coloured scenes, Richard clearly came to a sudden resolve to flee the world of his youth and to devote his life to the pursuit of perfection. His first endeavours on that path show nothing exceptional. He meditates on the Passion of our Lord, one of the mysteries of divine love that had particularly struck him and contributed to his conversion. Then he turns to the worship of the name of Jesus, and, at the same time, his devotion to the holy Mother of God provides an outlet for the highly sensitive soul of the young hermit: a beautiful expression of this devotion is found in Rolle's Canticum Amoris.⁶ He remained faithful to these devotions of his youth, but allusions to them are naturally less common in his later works, since they were eclipsed by the great mystical gifts on which the later works concentrate.

The young man's progress was not, however, without difficulties. Some of these were due largely to his impulsive, intransigent, and even eccentric temperament. He clashed with some of his patrons, like John Dalton, a friend of his father; he objected to interference from former gay companions; he had to face temptations of a sentimental, if not sensual, nature; loneliness sometimes seemed to him hardly bearable; and he suffered from temporary frustration in his yearning for perfect quiet, and in his desire to preach the ways of salvation to others. Hence his wanderings, "like Cain in flight after his crime," in search of the ideal hermitage; wanderings that were denounced by unfriendly tongues as a sign of restlessness—although Richard Rolle was certainly never the type of "Robert renne-aboute" pilloried by Piers Plowman. At last, he was able to settle down, probably in the vicinity of Hampole nunnery. In the solitude ultimately found, he continued to read and meditate, mostly the Sacred Books. Among these he recommends the Prophets, the Gospels and the canonical Epistles, and he quotes freely from the Apocalypse. But his favourite seems to have been The Song of Songs. It is from this that he borrowed the phrase which recurs as a leitmotiv in most of his works: "Amore langueo." Characteristic of this time of reading and meditation are his "postils" or brief commentaries. He described himself as "probatus postillator, experienced writer of postils." Reading and meditation were his preparation for contemplation—labour, sed dulcis, desiderabilis et suavis…bonus labor. As usual Rolle speaks from experience, and it is from experience also that he describes the joy that rewards earlier efforts. It was surely in order to alleviate these efforts, and to ensure greater freedom from material conditions, that he came to adopt the sitting position at prayer, and insisted on this apparently trifling detail with a curious obstinacy in his English as well as his Latin works.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, one can watch him pass from these early stages to higher spheres. Eventually the "door of heaven" opens before him, and he begins to be prepared for what would now be called the transforming union. He repeatedly describes these experiences, which are summed up in the three words: "dulcor, calor, canor" (later melos). Of these, only the last two are mystical gifts in the strict sense. "Sweetness" was felt by him as soon as the difficulties previously encountered had been overcome: it no doubt represents the sensation of relief and moral well-being normally experienced by a soul freshly detached from wordly bonds.

As for the "heat"—a phenomenon curiously parallel with Blaise Pascal's famous ecstasy—Rolle has given us an account of it with unusual precision, in the Incendium Amoris:

Eventually, I made great progress in spiritual joy. From the beginning of my change of life and the transformation of my soul, three years, less three or four months, elapsed until the heavenly door opened before me, when the eye of my heart was able to behold the denizens of heaven and to discover the way to my Beloved and how I could go on sighing for Him. Since then, the heavenly door remaining open, barely one year passed until the time when I felt the heat of eternal love within my heart: I was sitting in a chapel and, enjoying the sweetness of prayer and meditation, I suddenly felt in myself an unusual and pleasant warmth. At first I wondered where this came from, but after a prolonged experience of it, I realised that it emanated not from a creature but from the Creator, for it became ever more ardent and more pleasant. This material and inexpressibly sweet warmth remained with me nine months and a few weeks, until the time when I received from above the gift of hearing the celestial melody. …

There is, however, a noticeable difference in his description of his experiences in the Melos Amoris. In the Incendium Amoris, Rolle says that the fire was succeeded by the "gift of hearing the celestial song." He is speaking here merely of "internal, or spiritual song" as opposed to the external and material, having been rebuked, so he tells us, for not taking part in public singing in church and having replied to this accusation at length. In the Melos Amoris the song becomes "melody," the main theme of the book, Rolle's last work. He describes it as the highest grade in the love of God; it drives away care, grief, and fear; spiritual joy turns to rapture when this supra-material harmony is heard. But only the soul in close union with the Beloved, and especially the solitary, can enjoy it fully. For the melos is incompatible not only with earthly songs, even those of the liturgy, but also with worldly contact of any kind. It is a foretaste of heavenly joys and, as such, defies accurate description.

Although these three gifts, dulcor, calor, canor (or melos), are the special reward of solitaries and contemplatives, they can be experienced by anybody, in any milieu. Even the melos can be enjoyed in the midst of various occupations, as was the case with Rolle. But one cannot expect to receive them as of right; and, admirable and desirable as they are, these exceptional gifts are not the sole or necessary signs of mystical union. What is more, they do not constitute the essence of perfection; and Rolle never refrains from giving more commonplace advice to beginners. He insists on remote preparation, on purity of mind and body, and on the other Christian virtues, humility, patience, self-denial—all necessary preliminaries before love can reign in the soul and transform it.

This way of preparation, too, is exemplified by Rolle's personal experience. And once he has reached the summit, he finds himself in a state of steadfastness, serenity, and confidence, which, in its highly lyrical expression, might easily, especially when taken out of context, be mistaken for overweening pride: God himself has been his teacher, and to God he appeals against all contradictors. Nothing will ever deprive him of the joy he derives from his permanent union with the Beloved or of his conviction that his salvation is assured. Such confidence, is, of course, the logical result of his profound conviction and his trust in God. It gives expression to feelings that cannot accurately be described, still less adequately explained. Intransigence is here a form of refusal to compromise with error or sin. Exhilaration in the description of God's gifts is a form of tribute to God's munificence. But Rolle's intransigence and his accents of triumph never degenerate into rebellion or vainglory. Indeed, in contrast to the eccentricities of his "conversion" as related in the Office, and despite the fierce tone he occasionally adopts in discussion, despite also the extravagance of his style, Rolle was never inclined to excess or violence. Just as his submission to the Church on any point of official doctrine was absolute at all times, so his attitude in practical matters of asceticism was always governed by common sense and reason. This may well explain his peculiar insistence on the advantages of the sitting position during prolonged contemplation. It also explains how he had occasion to refute malicious accusations of mixing with sinners (an accusation which, as he rightly pointed out, had been levelled at Jesus by the Pharisees) or of not practising severe fasting and maceration (to which he replied that mortification of the flesh should not be carried to the point of rendering mind and body unfit for prayer and meditation).

Again, no extraordinary supra-natural phenomenon marked Rolle's mysticism. He himself never claimed any special power over natural forces, even though the Office tells us that, through contact with him, Margaret, a recluse and his disciple, recovered her lost speech and her health. On the whole, Rolle remains profoundly human and, apart from the frequent lyrical outbursts found in his works, every one of these works contains useful advice. Unlike, for instance, Walter Hilton or the anonymous author of the Cloud of Unknowing, Rolle does not set out to teach. With the exception of the short works addressed to individuals—probably, in such cases, on request—he does not write treatises of the usual kind. Rather than a teacher, Rolle is a witness. His example, as he had hoped, presents a concrete case of man's elevation, through the normal stages of purgation and illumination, to constant union with God, and of the joy resulting from this intimate union. St. Teresa defined mysticism as "that which no skill or effort of ours, however much we labour, can attain to, though we should prepare ourselves for it, and that preparation must be of great service." This definition applies to Rolle perfectly and would have won his approval. Even the beginner can derive much benefit from following the holy hermit on his pilgrimage. To all, at one stage or another, Rolle is a guide as well as an example.

It is true that the average reader may sometimes find Rolle's style abstract or even abstruse. It is true also that a fair knowledge of Latin is required for a full appreciation of the verbal fireworks in the Melos Amoris, since, as we have already observed, a translation could hardly be more than a necessary evil. But Rolle's style is always appropriate to his mood of the moment; and, in several works of his, Latin or English, especially the latter, the thought is conveyed with great simplicity and clarity, while bearing always the personal mark of its author. The quality of Rolle's English writings can be judged from the fact that Rolle was selected by Professor R. W. Chambers as a master link in the continuous development from the Old English of King Alfred to the Elizabethan, English prose of St. Thomas More and his school. Richard Rolle's style, like his message, has lost nothing of its freshness or its vigour. Both have won for him a permanent place of honour in the pageant of great English religious writers.

Notes

¹ The most convenient comprehensive account of the man, his times, and his works (in spite of a number of outdated passages) is still Miss Frances M. M. Comper's The Life of Richard Rolle, together with an Edition of his Lyrics (Dent, London, 1928).

The canon of Richard Rolle's works has been established by Miss Hope Emily Allen in Writings ascribed to Richard Rolle of Hampole and Materials for his Biography (P.M.L.A., New York, 1927).

² A. Wilmart, "Le Cantique d'Amour de Richard Rolle," Revue d'Ascétique et de Mystique, xxi (1940), pp. 143 sq.

The Oxford Book of Medieval Latin Verse, ed. by F. J. R. Raby (Clarendon Press (1959), p. 442).

³ The best edition of the De Emendatione Vitae is by Léopold Denis, S.J., Du Péché à l'amour Divin ou l'Amendement du Pécheur, Editions de la Vie Spirituelle, Paris, Desclée et Cie, 1926. There is also an English translation by Frances M. M. Comper, The Fire of Love and Mending of Life (Methuen, 1914).

⁴ Cf. Margaret Deanesly, The Lncendium Amoris of Richard Rolle of Hampole (Manchester U.P., 1915). French annotated edition: Dom N. Noetinger, Le Feu de l'Amour, le Modèle de la Vie Parfaite, le Pater, par Richard Rolle de Hampole (Tours, 1928).

⁵ E. J. Arnould, The Melos Amoris of Richard Rolle of Hampole (Blackwell, Oxford, 1957).

⁶ A. Wilmart, "Le Cantique d'Amour de Richard Rolle," Revue d' Ascétique et de Mystique, xxi (1940), pp. 143 sq.