The Lady Julian.
AT the time when Richard Rolle was called from his hermit’s cell to be with his Lord in Paradise, a little girl of six years old was living in some old manor-house in Norfolk. We may suppose she was of noble birth, as she is called in old county records “the Lady Julian.” Probably her name was given her in honor of S. Julian, to whom an ancient church in Norwich was dedicated.
This church had been given by King Stephen to the nuns of Carrow, in the suburbs of Norwich. Not that they made use of it themselves, but the revenues of the church went to the support of their house. It was to this Benedictine nunnery of Carrow that the little Lady Julian was sent for education. We hear no more of her young days, except that she describes herself as an “unlettered girl.”
By this it would appear, not that the education given by the nuns failed to comprise reading and writing, but rather that it was merely the ordinary education of girls in her rank of life.
We next hear of her, when still young, as an anchoress inhabiting the cell in S. Julian’s church yard at Norwich. This cell was reserved for a single anchoress or recluse, and is known to have existed in the east part of the present churchyard. Such anchorages were not uncommon—we already know of those at Oxford, and of the one inhabited by the anchoress Margaret, the friend of Richard Rolle; and in 1362 we find that Henry, Duke of Lancaster, granted certain cottages and lands to support two recluses in cells in the churchyard of Whalley, in order that they might pray for the souls of the Duke, his ancestors, and his heirs.
Frequently the recluses were walled up in there cells, having no communication with the outer world, but having a grated window opening into the church, through which they could hear mass, and receive the host, and through which also their food was passed in, and visitors who were allowed to see them might there converse with them. But in the case of the anchorage of S. Julian’s, it would appear there was also an outer door, and friends might pass in and out.
Norwich, “the city of gardens,” was in those days a fair and stately town of half-timbered houses; perhaps in the Jewish quarter, houses of stone. But the Guildhall was still a timbered but thatched with reeds. In the reign of King John, the city had been taken by the Dauphin Louis, and troublous times had followed, so that it was nearly eighty years later that the strong flint walls were built, with twelve gates and forty towers, to guard the city from all further invasions. Meanwhile, during those troublous times, much building had been carried on. There had been for some time a Benedictine monastery, two nunneries, including the nunnery of Carrow, and a monastic college.
But in the year 1226 the Black Friars had arrived, and there followed them the Austin Friars, the Gray Friars, and the White Friars, besides friars of lesser orders. The Black Friars had built for themselves a stately house, only finished in the year 1309. The beautiful cloisters still remain. And whereas in the time of Edward the Confessor there were but twenty-five parish churches, there were in the reign of Edward II. no less than fifty-eight within the wails, besides the beautiful cathedral, and a conventual church.
There were besides four hospitals, each one with a chapel, and there were many cells and anchorages for hermits and hermitesses. Each of the twelve gates had a hermit’s cell attached, and outside five of the gates were lazar-houses. There was also a synagogue.
The cathedral, which had been partly burnt down in 1272 by rioters who attacked the disorderly monks, had been repaired and beautified, and the cloisters were begun, which were finished only 133 years later.
And at the time when the Lady Julian was born, the trade of Norwich rose into great importance, for ninny Dutch and Flemish artisans had been brought over by Queen Philippa for the increase and improvement of the wool trade. And King Edward III. and Queen Philippa came several times to the city, and held a tournament, and when the king visited his imprisoned mother at Castle Rising, Philippa held her court at Norwich.
Thus the city became wealthy and prosperous, and many things were passing, of which Julian in her cell knew little or nothing, except from the ringing of bells and sounding of trumpets, and from shouts and songs that reached her ears from the busy streets, and the open casements of the timbered houses.
The first mention of her early days is in the second chapter of the book written by her in her little cell. It is as follows: “The Lord revealed Himself to one, simple and unlettered, living in mortal flesh, the year of our Lord one thousand three hundred and seventy-three, the eighth day of May. And that simple soul had before that day requested three gifts by the grace of God.
“Firstly, that there might be given to me a more true mind of that which Christ had suffered-suffered for me. I asked not for visions or revelations. And, secondly, not from my own heart or mind there came to me a desire, which turned into a continual prayer, that God would send me a bodily illness.
“And I prayed that this illness might be of so deadly a sort, that to me and to others it might seem that only death were before me. And I desired that all earthly comfort might be withdrawn from me, and all spiritual fear and suffering and temptation might encompass me, and that notwithstanding I might not die, but thenceforward, as never heretofore, live to God.
“And yet I knew not whether so singular a prayer were truly according to the mind of God, and thinking thereon, I said: ― ‘Lord, Thou knowest what I desire of Thee, and if it be according to Thy will, Thou knowest. But if not, O beloved Lord, forgive Thou my simplicity, for Thou knowest I desire only that Thy will, not mine, should be done.’
“I had desired this illness from my youth up, and also that it should be when I was thirty years old, which age I had now attained.
“And thirdly, I asked that by the grace of God I might have a true sorrow for sin, and tender compassion for others, and a continual yielding up of my will and of myself to God. The first two requests I made with a condition, saying, ‘O Lord, Thou knowest what I would, and if that it be Thy will that I might have it. And if it be not Thy will, good Lord, be not displeased, for I will not but as Thou ‘wilt.’ But as to the third request, I asked it mightily, without any condition.” Thus we have our first picture of this soul, longing after God and in her “simplicity” consigning herself to a lifelong imprisonment in a churchyard.
All around her the pleasant “city of gardens,” the stately and busy city, where kings and nobles came arm went, and men bought and sold, and planted and builded. And meanwhile to Julian there was no world beyond her little cell, and she was glad to be there alone and apart.
The Lord had pity on her ignorance of His will. And we also pity her, though to us, perhaps, neither the need nor the profit of such seclusion can be known. And He came “to sup with her, and she with Him.”
“When,” she continues, “I was thirty years and six months old, God sent me a bodily illness, wherein I lay three days and nights, and on the fourth night the last rites of the Church were performed, and I did not believe that I should live till the morning. After this I lay two days and two nights, and on the third night I thought, as did they who were with me, that I was passing into the eternal land. And thereupon I felt a longing desire that I might not die; not because of any earthly thing which held me back, nor because of any fear of the eternal doom, for I trusted in the goodness of the Lord. But I wished to live that I might love the Lord more truly here below, that I might thereby have the more knowing and loving of Him in the bliss of Heaven. I thought, ‘O beloved Lord, shall I not live yet awhile to Thy glory here below!”
But as the night passed, death seemed to draw nearer, and when “the preacher” came, to whom tidings had been sent that the hermitess was dying, she could no longer speak or see. All was dark around her, and she said in her heart, “The will of the Lord be done.”
Then suddenly all the pain and darkness passed away, and she felt that she was healed. It was a sorrow to her to be brought back from the gates of the Heavenly City, but she remembered her prayer of old, and saw that the answer had been given.
And she therefore asked that her second petition might also now be granted, that she should have a sense as never before of the sufferings of the Saviour. But she did not ask for a vision. It was with the eyes of faith that she saw the Blood flow down from beneath the crown of thorns; and she knew in her heart that He who is God and Man had suffered thus for her.
“And the Lord,” she wrote, “my beloved Lord, showed me, not by sight, but by spiritual sense, His marvelous and tender love. I saw that He is all that for our good or our comfort can be needed, for all eternal years. He is our garment, clothing us with love, wrapping and embracing and enclosing us forever. An eternal robe of tender love clasped around us, never to be taken from us through the everlasting ages. And I saw that all that is pure and perfect good, is Christ the Lord. That all good in all and everything is Himself.
“And it seemed to me as though there were laid before me a little thing, round as a ball, and large as a hazel-nut, upon which I looked with the eye of my understanding, and I thought, What may this be? And the answer came to me, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marveled how it could last, for methought it might suddenly have fallen to naught for littleness, and it became as a point that vanished as I beheld it. But it was as though the Lord spake to me and said, ‘It lasteth, and it shall ever last, for God loveth it, and because of the love of God are the eternal things eternal.’
“Therefore in this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second is that God loveth it. The third is that God keepeth it. And the cause why we be not all in ease of heart and soul, is that we seek our rest in this thing that is so little, where no rest is, and we know not our God, who is the Maker, and the Lover, and the Keeper.
“For all that is beneath Him sufficeth us not. And the natural yearning of the soul that is touched by the Holy Ghost is this: ‘God, of Thy goodness give me Thyself, for Thou art enough to me. And I may ask nothing that is less, that is fully worship to thee. And if I ask anything that is less, ever me wanteth. But only in Thee have I all.’
“For He is the endlessness, and it was for Himself alone that He created us; and for Himself alone did He create us anew by His precious death, and therefore does He preserve us for Himself in His blessed love. And all this is from His own goodness, and for His own sake.
“And then it came into my mind how different would be the manner of our prayers, were we not so slow to learn His love. For the highest prayer is that which is a complete trust in His perfect love—His love that flows down to the lowest depth of our smallest need, and revives our souls, and makes them to live and grow in grace and beauty.
“God hateth not that which He has made, and He despiseth not the joy of serving us, even in the lowest service rendered to our bodily and natural needs, for our earthly bodies are dear to Him, because of the soul that was made in His image, and that dwells in the body. And as the body is enwrapped in garments, and the flesh enclosed in the skin, so are we, body and soul, enwrapped and enclosed in His eternal love. Yea, and more soothly, for all they shall wear and waste away, but the goodness of God is Forever more and more near to us without any comparison. And therefore does He desire of us that we should, abide in His love, and this delighteth Him more, and speedeth us more in holiness, than aught that we could devise ourselves. For never was a creature who could know or conceive how sweetly and how tenderly the Creator loves, in that our soul is so preciously loved of Him that is highest, that it overpasseth the knowing tit all creatures. When it is our desire to have God, Immeasurably more is it His goodwill to have us, and to have us eternally. And therefore we may, with His grace and help, stand in spiritual beholding, with everlasting marveling, in this high, overpassing, unmeasurable love. And of all things, the beholding of the love of God maketh a soul to seem least in her own sight, and most filleth her with reverent dread and true meekness, and with abounding love to her fellow Christians.”