The Cell of Self-Knowledge : seven early English mystical treatises printed by Henry Pepwell in 1521 — A Reader’s Guide
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This digital edition of The Cell of Self-Knowledge : seven early English mystical treatises printed by Henry Pepwell in 1521 — A Reader’s Guide is described by source-level measurements including 36,817 words, 2 hr 41 min estimated reading time, and 5 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 28.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Devotional literature,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
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Read the Text
This was not translated from St. Catherine's own vernacular, but from Friar Raymond's Latin version of the latter, first printed at Brescia in 1496. From the first of these two works, the Lyf, are selected the passages--the Divers Doctrines devout and fruitful--which Pepwell here presents to us; but it seems probable that he was not borrowing directly from Caxton, as an almost verbally identical selection, with an identical title, is found in the British Museum, MS. Reg. 17 D.V., where it follows the Divine Cloud of Unknowing.
Margery Kempe is a much more mysterious personage. She has come down to us only in a tiny quarto of eight pages printed by Wynkyn de Worde:--
"Here begynneth a shorte treatyse of contemplacyon taught by our lorde Jhesu cryste, or taken out of the boke of Margerie kempe of Lynn."
"Here endeth a shorte treatyse called Margerie kempe de Lynn. Enprynted in Fletestrete by Wynkyn de worde."
The only known copy is preserved in the University of Cambridge. It is undated, but appears to have been printed in 1501.[11] With a few insignificant variations, it is the same as was printed twenty years later by Pepwell, who merely inserts a few words like "Our Lord Jesus said unto her," or "she said," and adds that she was a devout ancress. Tanner, not very accurately, writes: "This book contains various discourses of Christ (as it is pretended) to certain holy women; and, written in the style of modern Quietists and Quakers, speaks of the inner love of God, of perfection, et cetera."[12] No manuscript of the work is known to exist, and absolutely no traces can be discovered of the "Book of Margery Kempe," out of which it is implied by the Printer that these beautiful thoughts and sayings are taken.
There is nothing in the treatise itself to enable us to fix its date. It is, perhaps, possible that the writer or recipient of these revelations is the "Margeria filia Johannis Kempe," who, between 1284 and 1298, gave up to the prior and convent of Christ Church, Canterbury, all her rights in a piece of land with buildings and appurtenances, "which falls to me after the decease of my brother John, and lies in the parish of Blessed Mary of Northgate outside the walls of the city of Canterbury."[13] The revelations show that she was (or had been) a woman of some wealth and social position, who had abandoned the world to become an ancress, following the life prescribed in that gem of early English devotional literature, the Ancren Riwle.14 It is clearly only a fragment of her complete book (whatever that may have been); but it is enough to show that she was a worthy precursor of that other great woman mystic of East Anglia: Juliana of Norwich. For Margery, as for Juliana, Love is the interpretation of revelation, and the key to the universal mystery:[15]--
"Daughter, thou mayst no better please God, than to think continually in His love."
"If thou wear the habergeon or the hair, fasting bread and water, and if thou saidest every day a thousand Pater Nosters, thou shalt not please Me so well as thou dost when thou art in silence, and suffrest Me to speak in thy soul."
"Daughter, if thou knew how sweet thy love is to Me, thou wouldest never do other thing but love Me with all thine heart."
"In nothing that thou dost or sayest, daughter, thou mayst no better please God than believe that He loveth thee. For, if it were possible that I might weep with thee, I would weep with thee for the compassion that I have of thee."
And, from the midst of her celestial contemplations, rises up the simple, poignant cry of human suffering: "Lord, for Thy great pain have mercy on my little pain."
The seven treatises gathered by Henry Pepwell in 1521 share a common concern with the inner movements of the soul toward God, but they do not speak in a single voice. Richard of Saint Victor's Benjamin opens with a systematic anatomy of the affections—dread, sorrow, hope, love—each rising in order, as if the spiritual life were a ladder of discrete steps. Later texts, such as the excerpt from the Epistle of Prayer, shift into a more urgent, exhortatory tone, pressing the reader to feel the weight of each emotion as a living force. The editor, Edmund G. Gardner, presents these works as a coherent sequence, yet the reader will find that the pace and texture of the prose vary markedly from treatise to treatise.
The Architecture of the Affections
Richard of Saint Victor's Benjamin proceeds by numbered chapters, each announcing a new virtue or state: "How the Virtue of Dread riseth in the Affection," then sorrow, then hope. This structure gives the impression of a spiritual anatomy, where each emotion has a fixed place and function. The prose is measured, almost clinical, as it describes how dread "riseth" and sorrow follows. Yet the later treatises abandon this orderly progression. In the Epistle of Prayer, the same elements—dread, hope, love—are not steps but interwoven strands, described through metaphors like a tree with roots (dread), body (hope), and fruit (reverent affection). The shift from a linear to an organic model changes how the reader experiences the text: one moves from a diagram to a living process.
The Rhetoric of Urgency
The Epistle of Prayer employs a markedly different voice from Richard's treatise. Where Benjamin explains, the Epistle exhorts. It uses direct address—"thou shalt feel"—and builds toward a climax of intensity: "All this I say for that I would by this knowing that thou charged and commended each thing after that it is." The prose becomes recursive, circling back on itself to drive home the point that "reverent affection" outweighs bodily penance. The writer even inserts a parenthetical challenge: "And what more? Sikerly, I had lever have his meed that lasteth in such doing... than of all the penance-doers." This is not the voice of a systematic theologian but of a spiritual director pressing for a decisive change in the reader's priorities.
Pace and the Reader's Attention
The treatises vary not only in content but in the pace at which they demand to be read. Benjamin moves deliberately, each chapter a discrete unit that can be pondered in isolation. The Epistle of Prayer, by contrast, rushes forward in long, looping sentences that pile clause upon clause: "Me thinketh that the proof of this working is devotion; for devotion is nought else, as saint Thomas the doctor saith, but a readiness of man's will to do those things that longeth to the service of God." The reader must hold multiple ideas in suspension. This change in tempo mirrors the spiritual progression the texts describe: from the careful ordering of the affections to the urgent, all-encompassing embrace of reverent love. Gardner's arrangement thus enacts a kind of training, slowing the reader down at first, then quickening the pulse.
Readers approaching this collection should attend to the shifts in voice and tempo as much as to the doctrines. The treatises were not written as a single work, but their juxtaposition creates a dialogue about how spiritual progress feels—sometimes measured, sometimes urgent. Gardner's introduction and notes provide historical context, but the texts themselves reward a slow, attentive reading that follows each change in rhythm. Let the differences in pace guide your own pace of reading.
There’s something tender in those old treatises, how dread softens into hope, then into a quiet affection—a path we walk slowly. I found myself recalling that same gentle turning while leafing through Islam, Her Moral And Spiritual Value: A Rational And Pyschological Study — Key Ideas to Explore, where the heart’s stages feel like an old friend’s hand, steady and familiar.
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