a perfect thing,
and desire is a defective thing. For one desires not that which he
has, but that which he has not, and here is a manifest defect. And in
this form solely can human perfection be acquired, as the perfection
of Reason, on which, as on its principal part, our essential being all
depends. All our other actions, as to feel or hear, to take food, and
the rest, are through this one alone; and this is for itself, and not
for others. So that, if that be perfect, it is so perfect that the
man, inasmuch as he is a man, sees each desire fulfilled, and thus he
is happy. And therefore it is said in the Book of Wisdom: "Whoso
casteth away Wisdom and Knowledge is unhappy," that is to say, he
suffers the privation of happiness. From the habit of Wisdom it
follows that a man learns to be happy and content, according to the
opinion of the Philosopher. One sees, then, how in the aspect of this
Lady joys of Paradise appear, and therefore one reads in the Book of
Wisdom quoted above, when speaking of her, "She is a shining whiteness
of the Eternal Light; a Mirror without blemish, of the Majesty of
God." Then when it says, "Things over which the intellect may stray,"
I excuse myself, saying that I can say but little concerning these, on
account of their overpowering influence. Where it is to be known that
in any way these things dazzle our intellect, inasmuch as they affirm
certain things to be, which our intellect is unable to comprehend,
that is, God and Eternity, and the first Matter which most certainly
they do not see, and with all faith they believe to be. And even what
they are we cannot understand; and so, by not denying things, it is
possible to draw near to some knowledge of them, but not otherwise.

Truly here it is possible to have some very strong doubt how it is
that Wisdom can make the man completely happy without being able to
show him certain things perfectly; since the natural desire for
knowledge is in the man, and without fulfilment of the desire he
cannot be fully happy. To this it is possible to reply clearly, that
the natural desire in each thing is in proportion to the possibility
of reaching to the thing desired; otherwise it would pass into
opposition to itself, which is impossible; and Nature would have
worked in vain, which also is impossible.

It would pass into opposition, for, desiring its perfection, it would
desire its imperfection, since he would desire always to desire, and
never fulfil hi