Morals on the Book of Job (Moralia in Iob)

And there are very many, who not only do not covet what belongs to another, but even abandon all that they possessed in the world, who despise themselves, do not aim at any glory of the present life, sever themselves from this world's courses of action, and whatever prosperity may smile upon them, they well nigh tread it under their feet; yet being tied with the chain of earthly relationship, while they imprudently obey the dictates of the love of kindred, it often happens that by the instrumentality of relations they turn back to those habits which they had even together with self- : contempt already subdued; and whereas they lovetheir fleshly Earthly kindred to he renounced loith self. 397 kin beyond what needs, being drawn back without, they are Book separated from the Parent of the heart. For we often see meu, who, as far as concerns their own interest, henceforth no longer entertain any desires of the present hfe, who have quitted the world both in practice and in profession, yet for their inordinate affection for relations, burst into the courts of justice, biLsy themselves with the discord of earthly things, part with the freedom of interior repose, and restore in their hearts the interests of the world that were long undone. Whither then are those walking but into a net, whom perfection of life commenced had already set free from the present world, but whom the excessive love of earthly kin still binds ?

For they that follow after the reward of the eternal espousals with close pursuits, and not with loose steps, as they disregard themselves for the love of God, so they lay aside every thing whereby they see they are hindered; and since it is necessary for God's sake that they should render service to all that they are able, for God's sake they refuse their private services even to their relations. Hence it is that when one said. Suffer me Jirst to go and hury /w?/Luke9, father, he thereupon heard from the lips of ' Truth,' Follow Me, and let the dead hury their dead, hut go thou and preach the kingdom of God. Wherein it is to be observed, that whereas the chosen disciple is withheld from the burial of his father, for the sake of God it is not permitted a devout person to do for a dead father, from carnal afi'ection, that which, for God's sake, he ought to do for strangers likewise. Hence again ' Truth' saith, //' any man come to Me, and^^^^ hate not his father, and motJier, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot he My disciple. In which same place, forasmuch as after the hatred of our kindred we have the hatred of our own life brought in, it is plainly shewn that we are bidden to hold our relations in hatred in such sort as ourselves, that urging them ^ away to the interests of eternity, and putting ^A.BE.

aside carnal favour towards them, when it is a hindrance in ^^{^^^ the way, we might learn by a proportioned skill of discrimination, at once to love them suitably, and to hate them savingly, so that in love hatred might be so taught to arise, 398 Relatives to be served in duty^ not partiality. Job 6, that we might be able to love more really in hatred. Hence ^j — ^— again it is said by Moses, Who said unto his father and to Deut, his mother, I know you not, and to his hrethreii, I ' * recognise you not, nor knew they their own children; these have observed Thy word and Thy covenant, and kept TJiy judgments. For he longs to know God more familiarly who, from love of religion, desires to know no longer those whom he has known after the flesh. For the knowledge of God is lessened by a gi'ievous cnrlailment, if it be shared with acquaintance with the flesh. Every one then must be put without the pale of kindred and acquaintance, if he would be more genuinely united to the Parent of all, that those same ones, whom for the sake of God he makes light of for a good end, he may the more substantially love, in proportion as he renounces in them the destructible affection of carnal attachment.

We ought indeed, even in a temporal way, to benefit more than the rest those to whom we are more nearly united; for a flame too extends its burning to things put by it, but that particular thing, wherein it originates, it first sets burning. We ought to acknowledge the tie of earthly relationship, and yet to disown it, when it obstructs the progress of the mind, that the faithful soul, being inflamed in devotion to divine things, may at once not look with contempt on the things which are joined to it below, and that by regulating these aright in itself, it may mount above them in the love of thino-s on high. Therefore with wise caution we must be on our guard, that no favouring of the flesh steal upon us, and divert the step of the heart fiom the right path, lest it hinder the efficacy of heavenly love, and sink the soaring mind downwards under a superincumbent weight. For every one ought so to sympathize in the wants of his kindred, that yet by such sympathy he never let the force of his puipose be impeded, so that affection indeed should fill the bowels of the heart, yet not divert it from its spiritual resolve. For it / is not that holy men do not love their fleshly kin, to give / them all things necessary, but they subdue this very fondness within themselves from love of spiritual things, in order so to j temper it by the control of discretion, that they may be never led by it, yea in a small measure, and in the very least The kine with the Ark shew affection felt, but controlled.

399 degree, to deviate from the straight path. And these are Book well conveyed to us by the representation of the kine, which 'going along towards the hilly lands under the Ark of the Lord, proceed at one and the same time with fondness and with hardened feeling; as it is written. Atid the men did so: i Sam. and took two milch kine, and tied them to the cart, and ' shut up their calves at home: and they laid the Ark of the Lord upon the cart. And soon after; And the kine took\er.\2. the straight way to the way of Beth-shemesh, and they went along by one way, lowing as they went, and turned not aside to the right hand or to the left. For observe, when the calves were shut up at home, the kine which are fastened to the waggon bearing the Ark of the Lord, moan and go their way, they give forth lowings from deep within, and yet never alter their steps from following the path. They feel love indeed shewn by compassion, but never bend their necks behind. Thus, thus must they needs go on their way, who being placed under the yoke of the sacred Law, henceforth carry the Lord's Ark in inward knowledge, so as never for this, that ihey take compassion on the necessities of relations, to deviate from the course of righteousness which they have entered upon. For * Beth-shemesh* is rendered * the house of the sun.' Thus to go to Beth-shemesh with the Ark of the Lord placed on them, is in company with heavenly knowledge to draw near to the seat of light eternal.

But we are then really going on towards Beth-shemesh, when in going the path of righteousness, we never turn aside into the adjoining side-paths of error, not even for the sake of the affection we bear to our offspring; kindness to whom ought indeed to have a place in our mind, but never to turn it back, lest that mind, if it be not touched by a feeling of affection, be hard, or being too much touched, if it is turned aside, be slack.

It is well to look at blessed Job, in whom the yoke of God's fear had worn the neck of the heart, and see under what controlling influence of discretion he bears the Ark of the Lord's sentence. For when the calves are gone he lows, in that, when tidings of his children's death were brought him, ' he fell upon the ground with his head shaven,' yet he goes by the right way whilst lowing, in that his lips in 400 Sin to be ' considered'' in others for our loarning. Job 6, groaning are opened to utter tlie praises of God, whereas he . — '- — exclaims without delay, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath Job f, taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. But minds ^^* that are not gifted with discretion know nothing of this rule of life, and in the degree that they seek the ways of the Lord negligently, they are turned back foolishly to the paths of the world.

Rightly then does the holy man after ' the paths of Theman' make mention of ' the ways of Saba.' For they whom the south wind of a mischievous warmth has relaxed, are verily held bound in the net of entanglement. But in describing the deeds of the wicked, he rightly admonishes them to ' consider' these things ; for we delight in froward practices in doing them, but when seen in others we pass sentence upon them, and the actions, which in our own case we think to be little deserving of sentence, we learn to be as base as they really are by the conduct of others ; and so it comes to pass that the mind is brought back to itself, and takes shame to do the thing that it censures. For it is as though an ugly face in a mirror caused disgust, as often as the mind sees in a similar life, what to feel abhorrence for in itself. Therefore he says. Consider the paths of Temau, the ways of Sheba, and wait a little. As if it were in plain words; ' Look to the harms of another's lukewarmness, and then you will the more surely take hope in relation to eternal things, if with the eye of the heart rightly directed you look at that which may disgust you in others.' 40. And it is well said, wait a little ; for it often happens, that whereas the short period of the present life is loved as if it were to last for long, the soul is dashed from its eternal hope, and being beguiled with present objects, is thrown back by the blackness of self-despair.

And when it imagines that the period is long which remains for it to live, at once upon quitting life it meets that eternity, which it may not avoid. Ecclus. Hence it is that it was spoken by one that was wise, Woe ' ' unto you that have lost patience. For truly they ' lose patience,' who, whilst they reckon to tarry long amongst visible things, part with the hope of the invisible. And while the mind is rivetted to present objects, hfe is ended, and they are suddenly brought to unlooked-for punishments, Suddenness of Judgment. Time wastes the life it makes. 401 which, being deceived by their presumptuous expectations, Book they flattered themselves they would either never meet with, — or not till late. Hence ' Tiiith' says. Watch therefore, for ^^^^' ye know neither the day nor the hour. Hence again it is written, Tlie Day of the Lord so cometli as a thief in //^ej^hess. night; for because it is never seen drawing near to seize upon the soul, it is likened to a thief in the night. Therefore it ought to be the more apprehended as always coming, in proportion as it cannot be foreknown by us when it is about to come. Whence holy men too, in that they have their eyes incessantly fixed on the shortness of life, do as it were pass through life daily undergoing death ; and prepare themselves on a more solid basis for the things that shall last, in proportion as they are ever reflecting by the end that transitory things are nought.

For hence the Psalmist, seeing that the life of the sinner fleeth at a quick pace, exclaims. For iiet a little while and the sinner shall not he. Hence Ps. 37, again he saith. As for man, his days are as grass. Hence pg*, 103, Isaiah saith, All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness there-^^of is as the flower of the field. Hence James rebukes the spirit of the presumptuous, saying, For what is your life ? James It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time. There- ' * fore it is rightly said, wait a little, in that both that is unmeasurable which follows after without limit, and all but little that is closed by an end. For that ought not to seem long to us, which hy the course of its allotted period is tending not to be; which while it is carried on by moments, its very own moments, whilst they delay, are themselves urging forwards; and from the very same cause, from which it is seen to be in our possession, it results that it ceases to be in our possession. But blessed Job, after he had brought in the shortness of the present life in terms of contempt, therefore in the voice of all the Elect rises up justly against the wicked, subjoining, Ver. 20. Tliey are confounded, because T have hoped.

When the wicked inflict evils upon the good, if they see them to be shaken from the interior hope, they are overjoyed at their deceiving taking effect, for they account the spread of their error to be the greatest gain, in that they rejoice to have fellows in perdition, but whilst the good 402 The tvicked shamed at siyht of the Church in Judgment. Job 6, man's hope is rooted within, and never bent to the ground — ~ — by outward evils, confusion seizes the soul of the wicked, in that whilst they are unable to get at the innermost parts of the distressed, they are ashamed to prove themselves cruel for no end. Therefore let the holy man say in his own voice, let him say in the endurance of the Church universal in affliction and groaning. Who, amidst the contrarieties of the wicked, without any default of mind, longs for the joy of the heavenly recompense, and by dying holds on to life ; They are confounded^ because I have hoped. As though it were in plain words, ' because the wicked by hard persecutions fail to soften the force of my rigid mind, surely beinor covered with shame they lose the labours of their cruel ways.' And hence at once he looks on the blessings of the Retribution to come as henceforth here, and marks what an arraignment awaits the wicked at the Judgment, adding, Tliey came even unto me, and were ashamed.

xxxii. 47. For lost sinners ' come even to Holy Church' on the Alleg. Day of Judgment, in that they are then brought even to the beholding of her glory, that for the greater punishment of their guilt they may see in their rejection what they have lost. Then shame covers the wicked, when conscience bearing witness convicts them in the sight of the Judge. Then the Judge is beheld without, and the accuser is felt within. Then every sin is called up before the eyes, and the soul, over and above the burnings of hell, is worse tortured by its own fire. Concerning these it is rightly said Is. 26, by the Prophet, Lord, let Thy hand he exalted, that they see not ^, let them see and he confounded. For now their merits darken the understanding of lost sinners, but then the knowledge of their guilt enlightens it, so that both now they in no wise see what is to be followed, and then they perceive it, after they have lost it. For now they do not care to understand the things of eternity, or they refuse to make them their object, when understood; but then assuredly, both understanding and longing after them, they have them disclosed to their sight, when they can no longer obtain them thus longed for. Lit. 48. Which same words of blessed Job, moreover, are in an P Vulg and let fhem tint sfr.

St. Greg, has ut for et. Fearing God nhile pronperoiifi, .J oh feared rioi at the rod. 403 especial manner suited to his friends, who set themselves to Book • • VII shake the mind of the holy man by bitter upbraidings. For he says, They were confounded because 1 have hoped. As if it were in plain words, ' Whilst they fail by foolish revilings to turn me to despair, they are themselves confounded by the madness of their fool-hardiness.' TJiey came even up unto mcy and were ashamed. As though he expressed it, ' Seeing the sores of my body, but ignorant of the constancy of my mind, whilst they took upon them to reproach me for unrighteousness, they did not yet ' come up unto me,"* but striking with cruel reproaches, whereas they find that my soul stands firm amidst adversity, ' coming to me,' as it were, * they are ashamed.' For herein they ' come to me,' in that they know me in the interior of my heart, and there they are ' covered with shame,' where outward loss moves me not, standing with firm mien.' Now there are some, who do not know how to fear God, saving when they are either affrighted by adversity experienced in their own person, or known in others ; whom prosperity uplifts from presumptuousness, and crosses dismay from weakness. Of the number of which same, blessed Job charged his friends with being, in that he immediately adds; saying, Ver. 21. For now ye are come, ye see my stroke, and are afraid.

As though he said in plain words, * I feared God then,xxxiii, when, buoyed up with prosperity, I felt no hurts of the scourge. But ye, who fear not God from love, dread Him from the stroke of the rod alone. It goes on ; Ver. 2-2, 23. Bid I say, Bring unto me ? or. Give me of your substance? or. Deliver me from the enemy^s hand? or^ Redeem me from the hand of the mighty f

If these words are referred to the person of Holy Church, as we have said that blessed Job's friends bear the^^^^^' likeness of heretics, he rightly declares that he does not ' want their substance.' For the ' substance' of heretics is not unsuitably taken for carnal wisdom, by which whilst they are wickedly sustained, they as it were shew shemselves rich in words, which Holy Church does not go after, in proportion as she goes beyond it by spiritual understandino-. But oftentimes, while heretics maintain wrong things con404 The Church can spare the wisdom of misbelievers. Job g, cerning the Faith, they utter various refined sayings against ^^^^^^ our old Enemy concerning the temptations of the flesh. For sometimes they as it were shew in themselves healthy limbs of practice, in the same degree that as wounded in f\iith they are held in the head by the fangs of the envenomed serpent. But Holy Church is not minded to hear refined sayings concerning temptation from those, who, whilst they deliver some truths that relate to practice, are leading men onward into the falsities of misbelief. Whence it is rightly said in this place. Did I say, Bring unto me? or, Give me aught of your substance? or, Deliver me from the enenn/s liand? or, Redeem me from the hand of the mighty'^ For he calls the strength of Satan, ' the enemy's hand,' and the powers of evil spirits, * the hand of the mighty.' Whom he in this respect calls mighty, in that whereas they were created void of fleshl}' infirmity, no impotency being mixed therewith obstructs their wicked efforts.

But with regard to this which is subjoined, Ver, 24. Teach me, and I will hold my tongue, and cause me to understand ic here in I have erred, XXXV. 51. It seems doubtful under the scale of what pointing this should hang, whether it be joined to what he had brought in, Did I say, or whether the sentence is spoken disjoined from the preceding, so that it is said thereby in reproach, Teach me, and I will hold my tongue, and cause me to understand wherein I have erred. Which same however agrees with either pointing, for by neither does he depart from the path of sound meaning. But since we have delivered these things in course allegorically, it remains for us to examine the words of the history in a moral sense. Moral. 5'2. Blessed Job had undergone the loss of his property; being given over to the strokes of evil spirits, he was suffering I Cor. the smarts of their wounds; yet in loving the wi^e foolishness ij 25. qJQod, he had trodden under foot the foolish wisdom of the world with inward scorn. Therefore in opposition to the rich of this world he is called poor, in opposition to the powerful he is called oppressed, in opposition to the wise he is called a fool. He answers the three, that as poor he seeks not their substance, nor as oppressed their aid against the strong, nor as a fool does he seek the lore of earthly wisdom.

For in Wise foolisJmess of Saints. They fear not ntati^s power, 405 that the holy man is carried off above himself in spirit, both Book being poor he is not straitened by want, and being oppressed he suffers nothing, and being of free will foolish, he does not gaze with admiration at carnal wisdom. Hence it is that another poor and oppressed man saith, We are perplexed,"^ Cor. yet not in despair^ persecuted, hut not forsaken, we are cast ' down, yet perish not. Hence it is that teaching the wisdom of a holy foolishness, he says, But God hath chosen ihe\^^^J' foolish things of the world to confound the wise. And, 7/3? ^^• any man among you seemeth to he wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may he wise. Hence making manifest both the gloriousness of oppression, and the riches of chosen poverty, he says. As dying, and heholdwe live ; as 2 Cor. chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; ' as poor, yet making many rich ; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.

It is well on this point to lift up the eyes of the mind, and to see in the Elect of God, who are suffering oppression without, what a fortress of strength they are masters of within. For all that is high and exalted without, in their secret view is grovelling, from the contempt they feel. For transported above themselves in the interior, they fix their mind on high, and all that they meet with in this life, they look upon as passing away far below unconnected with themselves, and so to speak, while they strive by the Spirit to become quit of the flesh, almost the very things they are undergoing, they are blind to. For in their eyes whatsoever is exalted in time, is not high. For as though set upon the summit of a high mountain, they look down upon the flats and levels of the present life, and rising above themselves in spiritual loftiness, they see made subject to themselves, within, all that swells highest without in carnal glorying; and hence they spare no Powers that are contrary to truth, but those whom they see to be uplifted by pride, they abase by the authority of the Spirit. For it is hence that Moses, coming from the wilderness, encounters the king of Egypt with authority, saying, Thits saith the Lord Qod of the Hebrews, How long wilt Ex. lo, thou refuse to humble thyself before Me ?

let My people go, ^' that they may serve Me: and when Pharaoh, being driven hard by the plagues, said, Qo ye, sacrifice to^your God in this^^8, 40H Bold freedom of Moses, Nathan, Elijah, and Elisha. Job 6, land; he thereupon answered with increased authority, It is not meet so to do; for we shall sacrifice the abominations of the Egyptians to the Lord our God. It is hence that Nathan encounters the king when guilty ; to whom first offering a similar instance of the transgression committed, and holding him convicted by the voice of his own sentence, 2 Sam. he thereupon added, saying, Thou art the man, who hast 12 7 "^ ' ' done this thing. It is hence that the Man of God, being sent to Samaria to destroy idolatry, when king Jeroboam threw frankincense upon the altar, not fearing the king, not held back by the dread of death, with undaunted spirit, put forth 1 Kings the authority of a free voice against the Altar, saying, O Altar, 13, 2. j^itar, thus saith the Lord; Behold, a child shall be born to the house of David, Josiah by name, and upon thee shall he offer the priests of the high places . It is hence that when proud Ahab, being bowed down to the service of idols, ventured to 1 Kings upbraid Elijah, saying. Art thou the man that troubleth ' Israel? Elijah forthwith struck the foolishness of the king in his pride with the authoritativeness of a free rebuke, ver.

18. saying, / have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy fathefs house, in that ye have forsaken the commandments of the Lord, and have folloiced Baalim. It is hence that Elisha, following his master's true loftiness, confounded for the guilt of unbelief Joram the son of Ahab, when he came to him with 2 Kings the king Jehoshaphat, saying. What have I to do with thee? ^' ^^' Get thee to the prophets of thy father and to the prophets of rer. 14. thy mother. And, As the Lord of hosts liveth, before Whom I stand, surely were it not that I regard the presence of Jehoshaphat the king of Judah, I woidd not look toward 2 Kings thee, nor see thee. Hence it is that the same man held ^' ^'^^^ Naaman fixed before the door of his house, when he came to him with horses and chariots, and did not meet him, set up as he was with abundance of talents and raiment; that he did not open the door of his house to him, but charged him by a messenger that he should wash seven times in the Jordan. Hence too this same Naaman was going away enraged, saying. Behold, I thought he will surely come out to me. It is hence that Peter, when the priests and elders, raging furiously even in scourging, forbade him to speak in the Name of Jesus, straightway made answer with great authority, saying, Strony deeds of Sain is explained by yen tie ones, 407 Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you Book more than unto God^ judge ye.

For we cannot but speak the ^^^' things which we have seen and heard. It is hence that when 19. 20.' Paul saw the chief Piiest sitting in judgment* against thecal. Truth, and when his officer had struck him a blow on the^^j^'^"^ cheek, he uttered not a curse, as being moved to wrath, but^nce filled with the Spirit, prophesied with a free voice, saying, God shall smite thee., thou whited icall : for sittest thou /o Acts 23, Judge me after the laic, and commandest me to be smitten^' contrary to the law? It is hence that Stephen not even when doomed to die dreaded to put forth authoritativeness of voice in utterance against the power of his persecutors, saying, Ye stijf necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, Acts 7, ye do alicay resist the Holy Ghost: as your fathers did,^^' so do ye.

But that holy men burst into such high words from passionate affection for Truth, and not from the sin of pride, they themselves plainly point out, in that by other doings and other sayings they make it appear with what great humility they are adorned, and with what great charity they are inflamed toward those whom they rebuke. For pride begets hatred, humility only love. Thus the words which love makes bitter, flow, surely, from the fountain head of humihty. x^ccordingly, how could Stephen utter reproach in pride, who with bended knee prayed for those whom he reproached, when they went on to worse and stoned him, saying. Lord, lay 7iot this sin to their charge.^'^^-^^How did Paul in pride utter words of bitterness against the Priest and Chief of his nation, who in humility lowers himself to the service of his disciples, saying, For we preach 2 Cor. not ourselves, but Christ Jesus our Lord, and ourselves ' ^* your servants for Christ's sake? How did Peter resist the rulers from pride.? when in compassion to their erring course, he as it were nuikes excuse for their guilt, saying, / wot that ^ctt^ 3, through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers. But those ^' thi?igs which God before had shewed by the mouth of all His prophets, that Christ shoidd svffer. He hath so fulfilled. And he draws them in pity to life, saying. Repent ye ver.

ii). therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out. How was it from pride that Elisha refused to come to 408 Those who fear not man proved often to he humhle. Job 6, the sight of Naanian, who not only let himself be seen, but — — '- — even be taken hold of by a woman ? concerning whom it is 2 Kings written. And when she came to the 3Ian of God to the hill, ^> '^'^' she caught him by the feet^ but Gehazi came near to thrust her away. And the Man of God said, Let her alone, for her soul is in bitterness. How was it in pride that Elijah uttered words of reproach against the proud king, seeing that he ran humbly before his chariot, as it is written, And he girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab? How was it of pride that the man of God disregarded the presence of Jeroboam, who out of pity straightway restored his withered 1 Kings I'i oil t hand to its former soundness? As it is written, And it ' * caine to pass, when king Jeroboam heard the saying of the Man of God, which had cried against the altar in Bethel, that he put forth his hand from the altar, saying. Lay hold ver. 6. on Mm. And his hand dried up. And shortly after, And the Man of God besought the face of the Lord, and the king''s It and teas restored him again, and became as it teas before.

For as pride cannot give birlh to miraculous powers, we are shewn, in what a spirit of humility the voice of upbraiding issues, in that signs go along with it. How did Nathan swell high in words of rebuke against king David, who when there was sin lacking that deserved rebuke, fell on his face 1 Kings upon tlie ground in his sight? as it is written. And they told ' ^^' the king, saying. Behold, Nathan the Prophet. And when he was come in before the king, he bowed himself before the king with his face to the ground. How could Moses, when he freely withstood the ]^]gyptian king, indulge contempt for him, who while he held familiar communing with God, worshipped with self-abasement Jethro his relation who was following him ? to whose advice he paid such ready obedience, that after the secret communications of God, he accounted that great gain, which came to him witliout from the lips of man.

From one set of deeds of the Saints, then, we learn what account we are to take of another. For holy men are neither free spoken out of ])ride, nor submissive out of fear. But whenever uprightness uplifts them to freedom of speech, thought of their own weakness preserves them in self-abaseliient. For thougli, in chiding them, they smite as from above Joh not self-trusting, though he valued not vain wisdom. 409 the misdoings of offenders, yet judging themselves the more Book exactly in their own eyes, they in a manner take their place '~ amongst the refuse, and as they pursue after wickedness in others, so much the fiercer do they return to keep themselves in check; and, on the other hand, as they never spare themselves in doing better, they are the more watchful in rebuking the deeds of other men. For what, that is derived from tlie powers of man without, shall strike them with wonder, who alike look down upon themselves, even at the moment that now they have well nigh gotten hold of the summit of interior height. And so for this reason it is right for them to sit in judgment on the loftiness of earthlj' exaltation without, for that no load of swelling humour weighs down the eye within. Hence when blessed Job disregards earthly wisdom, and powers, and substance, in those friends that were full of harsh words, saying. Did I say, Bring unto me?

or, Give me of your substance ? or. Deliver me from the enemy s hand ? or, Redeem me from the hand of the mighty ? Teach me, and I uill hold my tongue, and cause me to understand wherein I have erred ; what opinion he entertains about himself, he makes appear a little below, saying. Yea, ye overwhelm the fatherless. Thus it is clearer than the light what a weak nature he sees himself to be possessed of, in that he calls hvmseM fatlierless. It goes on; Ver. 25. IVJierefore have ye detracted from the words of truth, when there is none of you that is able to convict them?

He must himself be pure from evil, who makes it his concern to correct the evil practices of other men^ so as not to be taken up with earthly imaginations, not to give way to grovelling desires, in order that he may the more clearly see what things others ought to avoid, in proportion as he himself the more thoroughly eschews thim by knowledge and by practice. For the eye which dust weighs upon, never clearly sees the spot upon the limb, and the hands that hold mud can never cleanse away the overcast dirt. And this* according to the order of the old Translation '', the voice of •» i. e. of this passage in Joh. LXX V. the words, For I do not beg strength has V. 25, 26, thus, Bat as it seemeth from i/ou, are suited to the text quoted the u-ords of a trite man are evi/, for from 1 Chron. He can hardly refer to I do nut beg strength from you. And the slight variation in that text, which yoicr reproof shall not make my words does not alter the sense, and perhaps to cease^and I will not hear the sound comes from 2 Kings 16, 8. of your words, then v. 27. as in Eng. 410 Men must he pure to judge. Idle talk breeds detraction. Job 6, God rightly conveyed in sense to David, busied about — —^ — external wars, when It says, Thou slialt not build a temple^ iChroDv/b/' thou art a man of blood.

Now he builds God's Temple, ?g' ^' who is devoted to correcting and forming the minds of his neighbours. For we are God's Temple, who are framed to 1 Cor. life by His indwelling, as Paul bears witness, saying. For ' * the temple of God is holy^ which temple ye are. But a man of blood is forbidden to build a temple to God, in that he who is still devoted to carnal practices, must needs blush to instruct the minds of his neighbours spiritually. Therefore it is well said, Wherefore have ye detracted from the words of truth, when there is none of you that is able to convict them ? As if it were in plain words ; * With what rashness do ye blame all ye hear, who knowing nothing of the causes of my stroke, still utter words that deserve blame.' It goes on, Ver. 26. Ye only set in order speeches to upbraid, and ye speak words against the wind.

There are two sorts of speech, which are very troublesome and mischievous to mankind, the one which aims to commend even froward things, the other which studies to be always carping even at right ones. The one is carried downward with the stream, the other sets itself to close the very channels and streams of truth. Fear keeps down the one, pride sets up the other. The one aims to catch favour by applause ; anger, in order that it may be manifested in contention, drives forward the other. The one lies grovelling at command; the other is always swelling high in opposition. Accordingly, blessed Job convicts his friends of being of this kind, when he says, Ye do but set in order speeches to upbraid. But he proceeded to make known whence it is that men come even to the effrontery of unjust upbraiding, when he added. And ye speak words to the wind. For to ' speak words to the wind' is to talk idly. For often when the tongue is not withheld from idle w^ords, a loose is even given to the rashness of foolish reviling. For it is by certain steps of its descent, that the slothful soul is driven into the pitfall. Thus while we neglect to guard against idle words, we are brought to mischievous ones, so that it first gives satisfaction to speak of the concerns of others, and afterwards the tongue by detraction carps at the life of those of whom it speaks, and sometimes even breaks out into open rcvilings.

Silence prevents sins that may bring Judgment. 411 Hence the incitements are sown of angry passions, jai's Book arise, the fire-brands of animosity are kindled, peace is altogether extinguished in men's hearts. Hence it is well said by Solomon, He tit at letteth out water is a beginning Prov. of brawls. For to let out water is to let the tongue loose in a ' flood of words, contrary to which he at the same time declares in a favourable sense, savinp:, TJie uords of a man's f^^^'- ^ ' ^ -^ 18, 4. mouth are as deep waters. He then that letieth out water is a beginning of brawls, for he who neglects to refrain his tongue, dissipates concord. Hence it is written contrariwise, He that silenceth a fool, soften eth wrath. 9fi°To

But that every one that is given to much talking Vuig. cannot maintain the straight path of righteousness, the Prophet testifies, in that he saith, For an evil speaker shall^s. 140, 7iol be led right upon the earth. Hence again Solomon pj-ov. saith, In the multitude of ivords there wanteth not sin. ^^j ^^• Hence Isaiah saith. And the cultivation of righteousness, silence; so pointing out that the righteousness of the interior is desolated, when we do not withhold from immoderate talking. Hence James saith, If any man among ^^^^^^ you think liimself to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain. Hence he savs asrain, Let even/ man be swift to hear. Tames slow to speak. Hence he adds again. The tongue is «/^ ib. 3 8. unruly evil, full of deadly poison . Hence ' Truth' warns us by his own lips, saying. Every idle word that men shall ^iatt. speak, fhey shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. "' For an idle word is such as lacks either cause of just occasion, or purpose of kind serviceableness. If then an account is demanded for idle speech, it is very deeply to be considered what punishment followeth after that much talking, wherein we sin even by words of pride.

Furthermore, be it known that they are lost to the whole estate of righteousness altogether, who let themselves go in mischievous words. For the mind of man, like water, both when closed round is collected on high, in that it seeks anew the source whence it descended, and when let loose it comes to nought, in that it dissipates itself to no purpose down below. For the mind is as it were drawn out of itself in so many streams, as it lets itself out in superfluous 4l2 Too close sllefice deepens hitter thoughts. Job 6, words from the strict control of silence. And hence it has ,. — ' — no power to turn back within to the knowledge of itself, in that being dissipated without in much talking, it loses the strength of interior reflection. Therefore it lays itself bare in every part to the inflictions of the plotting enemy, in that it does not hedge itself about with any defence for its safe Prov. keeping. Whence it is written, He that hath no rule over ' ' his own spirit in his talk, is like a city that is broken doivn, and without walls. For because it is without the wall of silence, the city of the mind lies open to the darts of the enemy, and w4ien it casts itself forth of itself in words, it exhibits itself exposed to the adversary, and he gets the mastery of it without trouble, in proportion as the soul that he has to overcome combats against its own self by much talking.

But herein be it known, that when we are withheld from speaking by excess of fear, we are sometimes confined within the strait bounds of silence beyond what need be. And whilst we avoid the mischiefs of the tongue without caution, we are secretly involved in worse. For oftentimes while we are overmuch restrained in speech, we are subject to a mischievous degree of much talking in the heart, that the thoughts should be hot within, the more that the violent keeping of indiscreet silence confines them, and most often they let themselves take a wider range in proportion as they reckon themselves to be more secure, in tliat they are not seen by censors without. Whence the mind is sometimes lifted up in pride, and, as it were, regards as weak those persons whom it hears engaged in talk. And when it keeps the mouth of the body shut, it never knows to what degree it is laying itself open to evil by entertaining pride. For it keeps the tongue down, but it sets the heart uj). And whereas it never takes heed to itself from inattention, it censures all the world more freely to itself, in proportion as it does it at the same time the more secretly. And most frequently oversilent people, when they meet with any wrongs, are driven into bitterer grief, the more they do not give utterance to all that they are undergoing. For if the tongue declared with cahnness the annoyance inflicted, grief would flow away from our consciousness.

For closed wounds give The Upa need a door trell kept, not a bar. 413 more acute pain, in that when the corruption that ferments Book within is discharged, the pain is laid open favourably for our '— recovery. And generally whilst over-silent men fix their eyes on the faults of any, and yet hold in the tongue in silence, they are, as it were, withdrawing the use of the salve, after the wounds have been seen. For they the more effectually become the cause of death, that they refused by speaking to cast out the poison which they might. And hence if immoderate silence were not a thing to blame, the Prophet would never say, TVoe is me, for I have held my peace. ^- ^' ^•

What then have we here to do, saving that the tongue must be heedfully kept in under the poise of a mighty control, but not that it must be indissolubly chained, lest either being let loose it run out into mischief, or being bound u}^, it be also slack to render service. For hence it is said by one, A wise man icill hold his tongue till he sees opportunity, that when he accounts it convenient, strictness of silence being laid aside, by speaking such things as are meet, he may devote himself to answer the end of usefulness. Hence Solomon saith, A time to keep silence, and a time to speak. For the seasons for changes are to be weighed with discretion, lest either when the tongue ought to be restrained, it let itself out to no purpose in words, or when it might speak to good purpose, it keep itself in from sloth. Which the Psalmist considering comprehended in a brief petition, saying, Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; and a doorps.Hl, of guard on my lips. For a door is opened and shut. He^* then who prayed not that a bar should be set to his lips, but a door, openly shewed that the tongue ought both to be held in by self-control, and let loose on grounds of necessity, that both the voice should open the discreet mouth at the fitting time, and on the other hand silence close it at the fitting time. And because neither the fiiends of Job, nor all heretics, whose likeness they bear, know how to observe this, they are said to * utter words to the wind.' In that the sayings which the weightiness of discretion does not establish firmly, the breath of levity carries along.

For because be does not fear to endure adversities, let bim say, But fulfil what ye have begun; and because be does not withhold the announcements of the Truth from his very persecutors themselves, let him add. Give ear, and see if I lie. As if he said in plain words, ' Neither do I tremble at the mischiefs done me before, nor do I withhold the succours of correction from uugratefiil bearers, in that 1 both have exercise through being driven to straits by misfortune, and gain increase by being kindly devoted to my very persecutors themselves.' For the mind of the Saints, in this war of temptations, being at once defended by the shield of patience, and begirt with the swords of love, obtains resokition for the enduring of bad treatment, and puts forth kindness in the recompensing good, so as both to receive stoutly the weapons of enmities, and return forcibly the darts of love. For he does not in any way go armed to the wars, who either taking a shield, uses no swords, or using swords, is not protected by a shield. And hence the soldier of God, encountered bv a war of adversity, ousrht both to hold before him the shield of patience, lest he perish, and being prompt to preach he should launch the darts of love, that he may win the victory. The sum of which armour Paul briefly informs us of, saying, Charity suffereth long, and is kind.

1 Cor. But when one of either is wanting, charity is not, i. e. if ' *' bearing with the wicked without kindness, he has no love; or again if shewing himself without patience, he neglect to bear with the wicked whom he loves. Therefore that true charity may be retained by us, it must needs be that both patience support kindness, and again kindness support patience, that building up a large edifice as it were in oar breast, both patience may give strength to the tower of kindness, and kindness give grace to the firmly founded edifices of patience. Therefore let blessed Job, as being prompt to patience, say. But fulfil what ye have begun; and as endued with kindness let him add, Give ear, and see if I lie.

But because Holy Church, being well trained in the '\]\, school of humility, does not enjoin as by authority the right i\6 Weighing words before speaking hinders strife. Job 6, instructions which she dehvers to those that be gone astray, - ' but wins acceptance for them by reason, it is well said in th^s Alleo. place, See if I lie. As though it were in plain words, ' In { all that I declare, give no credence to me upon grounds of, j authority, but consider on grounds of reason whether they be true And if at any time she says what cannot be comprehended by reason, she reasonably advises that human reasoning should not be looked for in hidden truths.' But it often happens that heretics, when they meet with opportunity for reasoning, give themselves a loose in the brawlings of strife. Hence it is immediately subjoined with propriety, Ver. '29. Answer^ I pray you., witJtuut strife. iii. 4. For neither do heretics try to attain truth by their investigations, but to appear to be the winners; and whereas they desire to shew for wise without, they are bound within in their foolishness with the chains of their own pride; hence it comes to pass that they look out for contests of rivalry, and concerning God, Who is our Peace, they know not how to speak with peaceableness, and by the article of peace they become contrivers of strife.

To whom it is well spoken by 1 Cor. Paul, But if any man seem to he contentious, we Jiave no ' ' such custom, neither the Churches of God. Now it is rightly added. And speaking that which is just, judge ye. iv. 5. For every one that speaks, whilst he waits for his hearer's sentence upon his words, is as it were subjected to the judgment of him, by whom he is heard. Accordingly he that fears to be condemned in respect of his words, ought first to put to the test that which he delivers; that there may be a kind of impartial and sober umpire sitting between the heart and the tongue, weighing with exactness whether the heart presents right words, which the tongue taking up with advantage may bring forward for the hearer's judgment. Therefore let blessed Job, while managing his own case against his friends, yet telling our proceedings against heretics, blame precipitancy in speakers, and gather words to suit their mind, saying, And speaking that which is just, judge ye. As if it were in plain words, ' If in this, that ye come out to us in the issuing forth of the tongue, ye would not be found fault with, retain within the balances of justice, Error must he silenced to make room for Truth. 417 that what is delivered without, may find acceptance bv the Book . . " YIII. weightiness of truth, the more in proportion as the scales of discretion weigh it well within, and because those put forth a right judgment about the sayings of others, who are used first to sit in judgment on their own ; after that he had said, speaking that which is just, judge ye, he immediately adds with propriety, Ver. 30. And ye shall not find iniquity in my tongue, nor shall foolishness sound through my jaws,

As if it were expressed in plain words, ' The more v. exactly ye weigh your own words, the more truly ye estimate those of others, and when what ye say begins to be right, ye will recognise what ye hear to be just. For my tongue never sounds of folly to you, unless it be what comes from your own inward thoughts.' Thus Holy Church makes it her aim first to prove the allegations of her enemies to be false, and then to make known the announcements of the truth, for so long as they reckon themselves to hold right notions, they obstinately assail the right things that they hear. Therefore it is necessary beforehand that heretics should feel their eiTor, lest they gainsay the truth when it is heard. For neither if the tiller of the soil neglect to root up the briars of the field by the cutting of the share, will the earth bring to a crop the seed received into her bosom ; and when the physician does not get rid of the coiTuption, by opening the wound, healthy flesh never forms in the corrupt spot. First then in destroying what is bad, let him say, And speaking that which is just, judge ye; but afterwards in teaching what is right, let him add. And ye shall not find iniquity in my tongue, nor shall foolishness sound through my jaws. Now it is the way with heretics to deliver some things openly, to hold others in secret, for by the ' tongue,' plain speaking is denoted, but by the *jaws^,' the secret ^ fauces harbouring.

Neither in the tongue then of Holy Church does * iniquity resound,' nor ^ foolishness in her jaws,' for the things that she proclaims in open utterance, at the same time she preserves in inward faith ; nor does she teach one thing in public and keep another to herself in secret ; but she both delivers what she thinks by giving utterance to it, 418 Man's life, since the Fall, a trial and a loarfare. Job 7, and keeps what she delivers by living accordingly; and what- '- — ever is let out belonging to the feast of heavenly wisdom by the tongue of preaching, she tastes this same by the jaws of silent expectation. And let blessed Job, both as an individual member of the whole Church, in telling his own case, and as shewing what is the heart of all of the Elect, make known all that he feels, that the testimony of his speech may manifest the uprightness of his mind. It proceeds, Chap. vii. 1. The life of man iij)on earth is a warfare. vi. 8. In this passage in the old Translation the life of man is not called * a warfare' at all, but ' a trial %' yet if the meaning of either word be regarded, the sound that meets the ear outwardly is different, yet they make one and the same concordant meaning. For what is represented by the title of ' a trial,' saving our contest with evil spirits ?

and what by the designation of ' a warfare,' but an exercising against our enemies ? So that trial is itself ' a warfare,' in that whilst a man is watching against the plots of evil spirits, surely he is spending himself under arms for the fight. But we are to observe that this life of man is not said to have ' trial,' but it is described as itself beiiig ' trial.' For having of free will declined from the upright form wherein it was created, and being made subject to the rottenness of its state of corruption, whilst out of self it begets mischiefs against self, it henceforth becomes the very thing it undergoes. For whereas by letting itself down, it relinquished the erect seat of the interior, what did it find in itself save the shifting of change ? And though it now erect itself thence to seek things on high, it directly drops down to its own level from the impulse of a slippery changeableness. It desires to stand up in contemplation, but has not the strength. It strives to fix firmly the step of thought, but is enfeebled by the slippings of its frailty. Which same burthens of a changeful lot, forasmuch as it sought them out of free will, so it bears them against the will. Man might have possessed his fleshly part in quiet, if created aright as he was by his Maker, he had been willing to be possessed by Him ;

but, whereas he aimed to lift himself up against his Maker, he straightway experienced in himself insolency from the flesh. Now forasmuch as • or ' temptation,' LXX. vrti^arri^tav. Trials spring even from virtuous attainments. 419 together with guilt*" punishment is also inherited along with Book. it bv birth, we are born with the engrafted evil of a frail '■ nature; and we as it were carry an enemy along with us, whom we get the better of with toilsome endeavours. And so the life of man is itself^ a trial,' in that it has that springing up to it from itself, whereby it is liable to be destroyed. And though it is ever cutting down by the principle of virtue all that it begets in the principle of frailty, yet it is ever begetting in frailty somewhat to cut down by virtue.

And so the life of man is in such a wav ' a trial,' that though we are henceforth restrained from the commission of sin, yet in our very good works themselves we are clouded now by the recollection of evil deeds, now by the mists of self-deception ^, now by the suspension of our own purpose ^ seducof mind. Thus one man henceforth restrains the flesh from excess, and yet he is still subject to images thereof, in that the things, which he has done willingly, come to mind against his vvill, and what he accounted pleasure he bears as punishment. But because he fears to be drawn again into the conquered evil habit, he restrains his greedy appetite by the forcible means of a singular abstinence, and by his abstinence his face is rendered pale ; then when paleness is observed in his countenance, his life is commended as deserving of the reverential regard of his fellow-creatures, and presently with the words of commendation vainglory enters into the mind of this man of abstinence, which while the mind having received a shock cannot get the better of, it seeks to blot from the face the paleness whereby that entered in, and so it comes to pass that being tied fast with the knots of infirmity, either in avoiding the paleness of abstinence, it again dreads to be brought under the dominion of excess, by food, or subduing by abstinence the impulse to excess, it apprehends its paleness serving to vainglory.

Another man getting the better of the downfall of pride, henceforth lays hold of the state of humility with all the desire of his heart, and when he sees people that are full of pride breaking out so far as to the oppressing of the innocent, being inflamed by the incitement of zeal, he is forced to lay aside in some degree the thing he determined on, he displays the force of the side of ^ culpa. Vid. S. Aug. de Naturji et Gratis. 4*20 Seeming contrary duties^ sinful failures. Job 7, right, and withstands the evil-minded not with mildness, but — — ^ — with authority. Whence it is very commonly the case, that Moral. ..... , either by pursuit of humility he is led to abandon zeal for the right, or again by zeal for right he interrupts the pursuit of humility, which he maintained. And when the authoritativeness of zeal and lowliness of purpose scarcely admit of being preserved together, the man is made a stranger to himself in his embarrassment. So that he is in a great dilemma lest in a deluded mind either pride pass itself off for the high tone of zeal, or timid inactivity feign itself humility. Another man, considering how great is the sin of deceit, determines to fortify himself in the citadel of truth, so that henceforth no false word should proceed out of his lips, and that he should wholly cut himself off from the sin of lying.

But it very frequently happens that, when the truth is spoken, the life of a neighbour is borne hard upon ; and whilst the person fears to bring injury upon another, he is brought back, as in an aim of pity, to that evil habit of deceit which he had for long kept under; and so it comes to pass, that though wickedness has no place in his mind, yet the shadow of falsehood dims therein the rays of tiTith. And hence oftentimes, because when a man is urged with questions he cannot keep silence, either by telling a falsehood he slays his own soul, or by speaking the truth bears hard upon the life of a neighbour. Another man, incited by the love of his Maker, aims by uninterraitted prayer to withhold his mind from all earthly thoughts, and to place it in safety in the secret deeps of inward repose ; but in the very mounting of his prayer, whilst he is striving to ascend from things below, he is struck back by the vision of them, and the eye of the mind is stretched to gaze on the light, but from bodily habit it is dimmed by the images of earthly things arising. Whence it very often comes to pass, that the mind of the person so striving, being exhausted by its own weakness, either giving over prayer, is lulled asleep in sloth, or if it continue long in prayer, the mist of rising images gathers thick before its eyes.

And so it is well said. The life of man is a trial upon earth, since there also he met with the guiltiness of a downward course, where he thought to lay hold on tlie advance Small gifts tempt to idleness^ greater^ to pride. 4*21 raent of an upward one, and the mind is only thrown into Book Tcr T T I disorder by the same act whereby it strove to arise out of its disorder, so that it is thrown back upon itself shivered by the very means, by which it was already getting above itself collected and compacted. This man being a stranger to instruction in the Divine Law, is kept down by his ignorance, that he should do nothing for the attaining of salvation. That man being endued with the knowledge of the Divine Law, while he is delighted that understanding is vouchsafed to him beyond other men, in that he exults with a selfish delight, wastes in himself the gift of understanding which he has received. And in the Judgment he is shewn to light worse than others by the same thing, whereby he is exhibited brighter than others for a season. The first, because he is lifted high by no gifts of extraordinary powers, eschews the more plain path of uprightness too, and as if accounting himself an alien to the heavenly benefit, does evil things as though with more security, in proportion as he has never been vouchsafed the high endowments of the heavenly gift.

The other the spirit of Prophecy replenishes, uplifts to the foreknowledge of events, and shews him things to come as now present. But whilst oftentimes and in many cases he is lifted above himself, so that he does really contemplate future events, his mind being drawn off into self-confidence, fancies that that spirit of Prophecy, which cannot always be had, is always with him, and when he takes every notion that he may have for prophecy, because that he ascribes this to himself even when he has nothing of it, he even loses it in the degree that he might possess it. And so it comes to pass, that he is brought back in sorrow behind the standard of other men's merits by the very means, whereby he was advanced before it in gladness of heart in the esteem of all. And so, Tlie life of man is a trial upon earth, in that either being a stranger to extraordinary powers, it is unable to mount to the heavenly prize, or enriched with spiritual gifts, it is one day ruined the worse by occasion of its extraordinary powers. IL But whereas we have said a little above that ' a trial' is the same as ' a warfare,' it is above every thing to be borne in mind, that something more is signified to us by the title of 4*22 Man^s life Jiere shorty its best wages heyond it. Job 7, ' warfare,' than by the name of ' trial.' For to our appre- -r-;

— '- — hension there is this addition made by the expression of ' a Moral. "^ ^ warfare,' namely, that by warfare there is made daily progress towards an end. And whilst the space of warfare goes on iB.&c. increasing in a regular course, the whole warfare of men ^ is raan.' at the same time diminishing. And so, the life of man is a warfare upon earthy in that, as we have said above, each one of us, while by the accessions of time he is daily advancing to the end of life, in adding to his life, is making an end to live. For he looks for the days to come round, but as soon as they are come for the lengthening of life, they are already taken away from the amount of life ; for while the step of the traveller too is advancing over the ground in front, what remains of the way is lessening. Thus our life is ' a warfare,' in that in the same degree that it is drawn out to its enlargement, it is brought to an end, so as not to be. Therefore it is well said. The life of man is a warfare upon earth ; for whilst by the several periods of time it seeks to gain ground, by that very period which it adds but in losing, it is made to pass away as it grows. And hence the very course of a warfare itself is described in the words that are immediately added.

Are not his days also like the clays of an hireling ? vii. 12. The hireling longs for his days to pass the quicker, that he may attain without delay to the reward of his toil ; and so the days of man imbued with a knowledge of the Truth and of the things of eternity, are justly compared to * the days of an hireling,' because he reckons the present life to be his road, not his country, a warfare, not the palm of victory, and he sees that he is the further from his reward, the more slowly he is drawing near to his end. Moreover we must bear in mind, that the hireling spends his strength in labours that belong to others, yet procures for himself a reward that is his own. Now it is uttered by the Redeemer's Johnis voice. My Kingdom is not of this world. All we, then, who ^^' being endued with the hope of heaven, wear ourselves out with the toiling of the present life, are busied in the concern of another. For it often happens that we are even compelled to serve the sons of perdition, that we are constrained to give back to the world what belongs to the world, and we are spent The Elect anxioiLsly labour to ensure their reward. 423 indeed with another man's work, yet we receive a reward of our Book own, and by this, that we manage uncorruptly the interests of ^ others, we are made to arrive at our own.

In reverse of which, ' Truth' saith to certain persons, And if ye have ??(;^Lakei6, heenfaiihful to that ichich is another 7nan''s, icho shall give ' you that ichich is your own. Moreover it is to be remembered, that an hireling anxiously and heedfully looks to it, that never a day pass clear of work, and that the expected end of the time should not come empty for his rewarding. For in his earnestness of labour he sees what he may get in the season of recompense. Thus when his work advances, his assiu*ance in the reward is increased, but when the work is at a stand-still, his hope sickens in respect of the recompense. And hence each of the Elect reckoning his life as the days of an ' hireling,' stretches forward to the reward the more confident in hope, in proportion as he holds on the more stoutly for the advancement of labour. He considers what the transitory course of the present life is, he reckons up the days with their works. He dreads lest the moments of life should pass void of labour. He rejoices in adversity, he is recruited with suffering, he is comforted by mourning, in that he sees himself to be more abundantly recompensed with the rewards of the life to come, the more thoroughly he devotes himself for the love thereof by daily deaths. For it is hence that the citizens of the Land above say to the Creator of it in the words of the Psalmist, Yea, Ps.

44, for Thy sake are we killed all the day long. Hence Paul '"" says, / die daily, brethren^ for your glory. Hence he says i Cor. again. For the which cause I also suffer these things ; but^T:^^ I am not confounded, for I know Whom I have believed, and^-, 12. am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day. Therefore holy men for all the labours which they now exercise, while committing them to ' Truth,' already hold so many pledges of their recompense shut up in the chamber of hope. Yet oppressive heat is now felt under toil, that one day refreshment may be had in rest. Whence it is rightly added immediately afterwards, Ver. 2, 3. As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow^ and 424 The heat of trial makes the 'shadotc^ longed for. Job 7, as an hireling lookethfor the end of his work^ so am I made — ^—^to possess months of vanity, and I have numbered me wearisome nights, viii. 13. Since for ' a servant to desire the shadow,' is after the heat of trial and the sweat of labour to seek the cool of eternal repose. Which shadow that servant desired, Ps.42,2.who said, My soul thirstethfor God, the living God; when Fs. 120, shall I come and appear before God? And again. Woe is me *• that I sojourn in Mesech. Who as if after hard toil retreating from the heat, and seeking a covering that he might attain Ps.42,4.the rest of coolness, says again, For I will enter into the place of the wonderful Tabernacle, even to the house of God.

Phil. 1, Paul panted to lav hold of this ' shadow,' having a desire to 23 *^ • • depart and to be with Christ, This shadow they had already attained unto in the fulness of the desire of their hearts, who Mat.20, said. We which have borne the burthen and heat of the day. Now he that is said to ' desire' the shadow, is rightly styled * a servant,' in that each one of the Elect, so long as he is bound fast by the condition of frailty, is held in under the yoke of corruption, in its exercising dominion over him, as though under the harrassing effect of heat ; which same person, when he is stripped of corruption, is then made known to himself as free and at rest. And hence it is well Rom. 8, said by Paul also. Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For the Elect are now pressed down by the penalty of a corrupt state, but then they are exalted high by the glory of an incorrupt. And in the same degree that, relatively to the burthens of our present constraint, there is nought of liberty now manifested in the sons of God, relatively to the glory of the liberty to ensue, nought of servitude will then appear in the servants of God. And so the servile garb of corruption being cast off, and the nobility of liberty bestovved, the creature is turned into the gloriousness of the sons of God, in that in being united to God by the Spirit, it is proved as it were to have surmounted and overcome this very thing, that it is a created being.

Now he that still ^ desires the shadow' is ' a servant,' in that so long as he is subject to the heat of temptation, he is IVhat is hard in itself, easy for the retvard's sake. 425 beariDg on his shoulders the yoke of a wretched condition, Book and it is rightly added there, and as an hireling looks for the reward of his work.

For an hireling, when he looks at the work to be done, at once resigns his spirit in consequence of the length and burthensomeness of the labour ; but when he recalls his sinking spirit to take thought of the reward of his work, he immediately sets afresh his vigour of mind for the exercising of his labour, and what he reckoned a grievous burthen in respect of the work, he esteems light and easy on the grounds of the recompense. Thus, thus, do each of the Elect, when they meet with the crosses of this life, when insults upon their good name, losses in their substance, pains of the body are brought upon them, reckon the things grievous, which they' are tried with ; but when they stretch the eyes of the mind to the view of the heavenly , country, by comparison with their reward they see how light is all they undergo. For that which is shewn to be altogether insupportable for the pain, is by forecasting reflection rendered light for the recompense. It is hence that Paul is always being lifted up bolder than himself against adversities, in that * as an hireling he looketh for the end of his work.* For he accounts what he undergoes to be a heavy burthen, but he reckons it light in consideration of the reward. For he does himself declare how great the burthen is of what he suffers, in that he bears record that he was Mn prisons more abundantly, in stripes 2 Cor.

above measure, in deaths oft,' &c. who ' of the Jews&J, five times received forty stripes save one.' Who was ' thrice beaten with rods, once stoned, thrice suffered shipwreck, a night and a day was in the deep of the sea; who endured perils of waters, of robbers, of his own countrymen, of the heathen, in the city, in the wilderness, in the sea, among false brethren ;' who ' in weariness and painfulness, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness,' had labour and toil, who sustained ' fights without, within fears,' who declares himself pressed down above strength, saying, that ice were pressed'^ ^^"^^ out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we were ' weary even of life. But in what sort he wiped off him the streams of this hard toil with the towel of his reward, he himself tells, when he says. For I reckon that the sufferRom. 8, •^ 18. 426 JVant and svffering^ temporal and spiritual, man's lot. Job 7, ings of this present time are not worthy to he compared with the glory to come, tvhich shall he revealed in. us. Thus, ' as an hireling, he looketh for the end of his work,' who while he considers the increase of the reward, reckons it of no account that he labours well nigh spent. But it is well added, So am I made to possess moiiihs of vanity, and rcearisome nights have I nnmhered me.

For the Elect serve the Creator of things, and yet are often driven to straits by the want of things; they hold fast in God by love, and yet they lack the supports of the present life. So they who do not aim at present objects by their actions, as to the profits of the world, spend ' months of vanity.' Moreover they are subject to ' wearisome nights,' in that they bear the darkness of adversity not only to the extent of want, but oftentimes to the anguish of the body. For to undergo contempt and want is not hard to virtuous minds ; but when adversity is turned to the paining of the flesh, then surely wearisomeness is felt from pain. It may also be not unsuitably interpreted, that each one of the Saints as a hireling spends ' months of vanity,' in that he now already bears the toil, but does not yet hold the reward; the one he undergoes, the other he looks for; but ' he numbers him wearisome nights,' in that by exercising himself in virtuous habits, he is accumulating upon his own head the ills of the present life: for if he does not aim to advance in spirit, he finds the things of the world perchance less galling to him. Alleg. 16. Yet, if this sentence be referred to the voice of Holy Church, the meaning thereof is traced out with a little more particularity.

For she herself has * months of vanity,' who in her weak members has to bear earthly actions running on to nought without the meed of life. She ' numbers to herself wearisome nights,' in that in her strong members she bears manifold afflictions. For in this life there be some things that are hard, and some that are empty, and some that are both hard and empty at one and the same time. For from love of the Creator to be tried with the afflictions of the present life, is hard indeed, but not empty. For love of the present world to be dissolved in ])leasures, is empty indeed, but not hard. But for the love of that world, to be Vanity of this ivorld's toil not seen till at last. 427 exjDosed to any adversities, is at one and the same time both Book empty and laborious, in that the soul is at once afflicted by adversity, and not replenished with the compensation of the reward. And so in those who being now^ placed within the pale of Holy Church, still let themselves out in the pursuit of their pleasures, and are thenceforth not enriched with the fruit of good works, she passes ' months of vanity,' in that she spends the periods of life without the gift of the reward. But in those who, being devoted to everlasting aims, meet with the crosses of this world, ' she numbers herself wearisome nights,' in that she as it were in the obscurity of the present life undergoes the darkness of woe.

But in those who at one and the same time love this transitory world, and yet are wearied with its contradiction, she sustains at once ' days of vanity,' and * wearisome nights,' in that neither does any recompense coming after reward their lives, and yet present affliction straitens them. But it is rightly that she never says that she has ' days,' but ' months of vanity' in these. For by the name of ^ months,' the sum and total amount of days is represented, and so by the * day,' w^e have each individual action set forth : but by ' months,' the conclusion of those actions is implied. But it often happens that when we do any thingin this world, being buoyed up by the eager intentness of our hope, this particular thing that we are about, we never think empty ; but when we are come to the end of our doings, failing to obtain the object of our aims, we are grieved that we have been labouring for emptiness, and so we spend not only days, but likewise ' months of vanity,' in that not in the beginning of our actions, but only at the end, we bethink ourselves that we have been toiling in earthly practices without fruit. For when trouble follow^ s upon our actions, it is as if the months of vanity of our life were brought home to us : in that it is only in the consummation of our actions that we leam, how vain was all our toil therein.

But because in the sacred word sometimes ' night' is put for ignorance, according to the testimony of Paul, who saith to his disciples instructed in the life to come. Ye are i Thess. all the children of the light, and the children of the day ; ^' ^' tve are not of the niyht, nor of darkness. To which words he prefixed, But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that ib. 4. 428 The Penitent number their past times of vanity. Job 7, day should overtake you as a thief. In this place the voice — 1-1-1of Holy Church may be understood in the person of those of ' her members, who after the darkness of their state of ignorance are brought back to the love of righteousness, and being enlightened by the rays of truth, u^ash out with their tears all that they have done amiss. For every one that has been enlightened looks back to see how polluted all that was that he laboured at, in love with the present life. And therefore Holy Church in the case of these, in whom there is a return to life, compares her toils to ' a servant' in a state of heat, and to ' an hireling longing for the end of his work,' in the words. As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling lookethfor the end of his work ; so am I made to possess months of vatiiiy, and wearisome nights have I numbered me.

For in drawing the comparison there are two things which he premised, as also in the describing of weariness there are two which he thereupon added. For to the one oppressed with heat he gave ' months of vanity,' in that in proportion as the refreshing of eternity is more the object of our desire, it is more clearly seen how vainly we spend our labour for this life But to the one in expectance he brought in ' wearisome nights,' in that the more that at the end of our works we look at the reward we are to have given us, the more we lament that we so long knew nothing of the thing that we now aim at. And hence the very solicitude of the penitent is carefully set forth, so that it is said, ' that he numbered to himself wearisome nights,' in that the more truly we return to God, the more exactly we consider, while we grieve over them, those toils which we underwent in this world from ignorance. For as every one finds that to become more and more sweet which he desires of the things of eternity, so that which he was undergoing for the love of the present world, is made appear to him proportionably burthensome. Now if the following words be considered with reference to the historical import alone, doubtless we have the mind of one in sorrow described by them, viz, how in the different impulses of desire he is variously urged by the force of grief. For it goes on, Vcr. 4. When I lie down, 1 say, When shall 1 arise ? and again I look for the evening. Man clothed in corruption since the Fall. 429

For in the night, day is desired, in the day, evening is Book longed for; in that grief will not let the things that are before us give satisfaction, and while it saddens the heart in the ^^' experience of the present, it is ever stretching it to something beyond in expectation, as it were by a consolatory longing. But because at one and the same time the afflicted mind is drawn out in desire, and yet its grief, even though beguiled by longings, is not ended; it is rightly added, And I shall he filled with pains even until the darkness. But the cause of this grief is set forth, when the words are immediately introduced, Ver. 5. Ml/ flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust : my skin is dried up and shrunken.

But we shall make out these words more exactly x. and more applicably, if we go back to the order of the foregoing interpretation. For by sleep the torpor of inaction, and by rising the exercising of action, is represented, hy the name of the evening moreover, because it accords with sleep, we have set forth again the desire of inaction. But Holy Church, as long as she is leading a life of corruption, never ceases to bewail the inconveniences of her condition of mutability. For man was created for this end, that, with mind erect, he might mount to the citadel of contemplation, and that no touch of corruption should cause him to swerve from the love of his Maker; but herein, that he moved the foot of his will to transgression, turning it away from the innate stedfastness of his standing, he immediately fell away from the love of his Creator into himself Yet in forsaking the love of God, that true stronghold of his standing, he could not stand fast in himself either; in that by the impulse of a slippery condition of mutability, being precipitated beneath himself through corruption, he also came to be at strife with himself. And now, in that he is not secured by the stedfastness of his creation, he is ever being made to vary by the fit of alternating desire, so that both at rest he longs for action, and when busied pants for rest.

For because the stedfast mind, when it might have stood, would not, it is now no longer able to stand even when it will, in that in leaving the contemplation of its Creator, it lost the strength of its health, and wherever placed is ever seeking some other 430 Restless state of man. Niglit of trouble even desired. Job 7, place through uneasiness. And so in setting forth the ficklev-^-^ — ness of the human ini^nd, let him say, When I go to sleep, I say. When shall I arise? and again I shall look for the evening. As if it were expressed in plain words; ' Nothing it receives suiSceth the mind, in that it has lost Him, Who might have truly sufficed to it. Thus in sleep I long for rising, and at rising I look for evening, for both when at rest I aim at the employment of action, and when employed I look for the inaction of repose.'

Which nevertheless may be understood in another sense also. For to sleep is to lie prostrate in sin. For if the designation of ' sleep' did not denote sin, Paul would 1 Cor. never say to his disciples. Awake, ye righteous, and sin not. 15, 34. ^j-^^ hence too he charges his hearer, saying. Awake, thou 14. ' that steepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give Rom. thee light. And again; TJiat now it is high time for ns to 13, 11. ^^igQ Qiii of sleep. Hence too Solomon upbraids the sinner, ProT. 6 saying, iiiTo/f' long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? Therefore ^' each one of the Elect, when he is oppressed with the sleep of sin, strives to rise to keep the \^'atch of righteousness. But often when he has risen he feels himself lifted up by the greatness of his virtuous attainments. And hence after attainments in virtue he desires to be tried with the adversities of the present life, lest he fall the worse from presumption in his virtuous achievements. For if he had not known that he was preserved more effectually by trial, Ps.26,2. the Psalmist would never have said, Examine me, O Lord, and prove me. And so it is well said here, When I go to sleep, I say. When shall I arise? and again I shall look for the evening ; in that both in the sleep of sin, we look for the light of righteousness, and when successes in virtuous attainments elevate the mind, adversity is wanted for our aid, so that when the soul is exalted above what it ought to be in rejoicing at its own excellencies, it may be established by sorrow coming forth, through the encounters of the present life.

Hence it is not said, / shall dread the evening, but, / shall look for. For we ' look for' favourable things, we dread those that are adverse to us. And so the good man * looks for evening,' in that when he needs to be tried with affliction, adversity itself is made success to him. factum Light and dimness to the spirit in turns desired. 431

By the designation of ' evening' there may also be Book understood the tempting of sin, which oftentimes assaults the mind the sharper, in proportion as the spirit transports it higher to the regions above. For never in this life is sin so entirely abandoned in the practising of righteousness, that we continue without flinching in the self-same righteousness; in that although right principle does already drive out sin from the dwelling of the heart, yet the very sin, that is so banished, taking her seat at the doors of our thought, knocks for it to be opened to her. And this Moses too conveyed in spiritual signification, when he described the parts of time being made in a bodily way, saying, And there was light, ^^^-^^ and adding soon after, Aiid the evening ivas made^. For the i Vulg Maker of all things foreseeing man's guilt, then exhibited in Time what now passes in the human mind. For the light draws on to eventide, in that the shades of temptation follow the light of righteousness. But because the light of the Elect is not put out by temptation, not night, but evening, is recorded as made. Since it often happens, that in the heart of the righteous temptation shades the light of righteousness, but it does not put an end thereto; it forces it to the paleness of a flickering state, but does not utterly quench it. And so the Elect both after sleep long for the rising, and after rising look for evening, in that they use both to awake from sin to the light of righteousness, and when placed in that same light of righteousness, they are ever making themselves ready to encounter the snares of temptation; which same they do not dread, but look for, as they are not ignorant that even trials promote the interest of their righteousness.

But with whatever degree of virtue they may have striven against their corruption, they cannot have entire health, until the time that the day of their present life is ended. And hence it is added. And I shall hefidl of pains even until the darkness. For one while adversities burst upon them, at another time successes themselves beguile them by insidious joviality; at one time evil propensities making head stir up a war of the flesh, at another time being brought under, they invite the mind to pride. Therefore the life of good men is fidl of pains even until the darkness, in that so long as the period of their state of corruption is going 43*2 Bad practice, corniptiim; evil thoughts, dust. Job 7, on, it is shaken by tribulation both internal and external ; nor — — — does it experience assurance of health, savino: when it leaves 'behind it for good the day oi temptation. And hence this same cause of these pains is brought in immediately afterwards, when it is said, My flesh is clothed with corruption and foulness of dust. For, as we hare said a little above, man \vilt\illy forsook his innate stability, and plunged himsell'into the abyss of con'uption: and hence now he either goes slipping in impure works, or deliled by forbidden thoughts. For, so to speak, being judicially bowed down beneath its own sin, our nature its very self is put out of the pale of nature, and, when let loose, it is carried even to the length of bad works, while, beins:

held in, it is dimmed bv the pressing imagination of bad works. Thus in the fultiliputrement of a forbidden deed, * corruption^ taints the flesh, while in the lightness of evil thought, dust as it were rises up before the eyes. By consenting to evil practices we are wasted with corruption, but by suffering in the heart the images of evil deeds, we are deliled with the stains of dust ; and so he says. My Jlesh is clothed with foulness of dust. As if it were in plain words; * The carnal life that I am subjected to, either the corruption of wanton practice defiles, or the cloud of wretched thought compasses about in the recollection of evil ways.

And vet if we take this in the voice of the Holv Church Universal, doubtless we find her at one time sunk to the earth by the * corruption' of the flesh, at another time bv ' the defilement of dust.' For she has manv in her, who whilst they are devoted to the love of the flesh, turn corrupt with the putrefaction of excess. And there are some that keep indeed from the gratification of the flesh, yet grovel with all their heart in earthly practices. So let Holy Church say in the words of one of her members, let her say what she undergoes firom either sort of men. My flesh is clothed icith corruption, and the defllements of dust. As if she told in plain words, saying, * There are very many that are members of me in faith, yet these are not sound or pure members in practice : in that either being mastered by foul desires, they run out in the rottenness of corruption ; or, being devoted to earthly practices, they are besmeared with Earthly minds in the Church are as withered skin. 433 dust. For in those, whom I have to endure, that arc full of Boo^ wantonness, I do plainly lament for the flesh turaed corrapt - -^H£ and m those, whom I suffer from, that are seeking the earth' what else is this but that I carry it defiled u4th dustr'

And hence it is properly added at the same time concemmg both sorts; My skin is dried up and shrivelled For m the body of the Church, those that are devoted to outward concerns alone are suitably called ' the skin/ which same by becoming diy is contracted, in that the'soul of carnal men, while then: hearts are set on present objects, and covet what is close at hand, have no mind, as it were to be made to stretch out after the things of the future world in longsuffering. These, while they disregard the richness of the mtenor hope, are dried up that they become shrivelled • m that if hopelessness did not parch their hearts, the fever' ot a httle mind would never contract them. Thus it was this contraction that the Psalmist dreaded, when m fear of the drought of the same he said. May my soul he sa t , sjied P^es^ as tmlh marrow and fatness. For the soul is ' satisfied with " marrow and fatness,' when it is refreshed bv the infusion of heavenly hope against the heat of present longings. And so the ' skin' being dried up shrivels, when the heart beingiven to outward objects, and dried up in hopelessness ^ not stretched out in love of its Creator, but is folded op i^to itself, so to say, by wrinkled thought.

But it is to be considered that carnal minds onlv dehght m present things, because they never weiafa well how transitorythe life of the flesh is. IFor if they regarded the speed of its flight, they would never love it even when it smiled upon them. But Holy Church, in her elect members, daily mmds how quick a flight belongs to outward thin-s, and therefore she sets firm the foot of serious purpose in ^e interior. And hence it is well added ; Ver. 6. My days are past more siciftly than a web is cut off by the weaver.

By a very suitable image the time of the flesh is compared to a web. For as the web advances by threads, so this mortal hfe by the several days; but in proportion as e Thus fu»z*^u-/i» is used by St. Chiyawtom for a petty spirit of quarreUin^ 434 Man's life grows to an end as a weh, hut never stays. Job 7, it grows to its bigness, it is advancing to its cutting off. For as we have also said above, whilst the time in our hands Moral. passes, the time before us is shortened. And of the whole space of our lives those portions are rendered fevrer that are to come, in proportion as those are many in number that have gone by. For a web, being fastened above and below, is bound to two pieces of wood that it may be woven ; but in proportion as below the part woven is rolled up, so above the part that remains to be woven is being unwound, and by the same act, by which it augments itself in growth, that is rendered less which remains. Just so with the periods of our life, we as it were roll up below those that are past, and unwind at top those that are to come, in that in the same proportion that the past become more, the future have begun to diminish. But because not even does a web suffice for the setting forth of our span of time, for the rapid course of our life surpasses the speed and quickness even of that too, it is well said in this place, 3Ty days are past away more swiftly than a web is cut off by the weaver.

For to the web there is a delay of growth, but to the present life there is no delay of coming to an end. For in the one when the hand of the workman is stopped, the end of the arrival is deferred, but in this latter, because we consume without end lime ending every instant, even while resting we are brought to the end of our way, and along the course of our passage, we go on even in sleeping. Therefore the Elect, seeing that the moments of the present life run past at speed, never in this journey of most rapid motion fix the purpose of their hearts. And hence it is well added upon that. And are spent without any hope.

The minds of lost sinners are bound fast with such love for the days of their present life, that they long to live for ever here in the same way. So that, if it were possible, they desire never to have the course of their life brought to an end. For they are too indifferent to take account of the future, they place all their hope in transitory things, they aim to have nothing but such objects as pass away. And while they think too much of transitory things, and never look forward to those that shall remain, the eye of their heart is so closed in insensible blindness, that it is never Earthly meiCs hopes here, aonietimes till death. 435 fixed on the interior light. Whence it often happens, that Book distress akeady shakes the frame, and approaching death ^ cuts off the power of the breath of hfe, yet they never cease to mind the things that are of the world. And already the avenger is dragging them to judgment, and yet they themselves, occupied with the concerns of time, in the busy management of them, are only thinking how they may still live on in this world. In the act of leaving every thing, they dispose of all as if they were entering upon the possession of them, in that the hope of living is not broken, at the very moment when life is at an end.

They are already being forced to judgment in feeling^, yet they still cleave to the ^ per hold of their goods in solicitude. For by the hardened soul ^Trn "" death is still believed to be far off, even when his touch is felt. And the soul is so separated from the flesh, that by keeping itself in excessive love for things present, when it is led to everlasting punishment, it does not know this mere thing, whither it is being led ; and in leaving all that it would not love with bounds, it suddenly finds without bounds things that it never anticipated. But, on the other hand, the mind of the righteous is stretched in intentness after the eternal world, even when the present life goes smoothly along with it. It enjoys the high health of the flesh, yet the spirit is never hindered by dependence on it. No atom ^ of death as yetsarticubreaks forth, still he daily regards it as present to him. For^'^"" because life is unceasingly slipping by, the expectation of living is wholly cut short for him. Therefore it is well said of the passing days, And are spent ivithout hope. As if it were declared in plain terms ; ' I have not placed confidence of heart in the present life, in that all that is passing I have dismissed from my hopes, treading it under foot.' And hence it is rightly added immediately after, Ver. 7. O remember that my life is wind.

For those men love the life of the flesh as enduringj xiii, who do not consider how infinite is the eternity of the hfe to come ; and whereas they take no thought of the sure stedfastness of the everlasting state, they take their exile for their home, darkness for light, going for standing. Since they that know nothing of greater things can never judge rightly of the least. For the order of judging requires that we 436 Our short life matter of compassion with God. Job 7, should be above that which we are strivhiL? to tiv. Since if 7 . . . <j . 1 — the mind is not able to rise above all things, it has no certain MonAL. . , -, , . , . , . . , Sight at all in relation to those, by which it is surpassed. And so it is for this reason that the lost soul is inadequate to estimate the course of the present life, because from love of the same it is bowed down to the admiration thereof. But holy men, in proportion as they lift their hearts towards the eternal world, bethink themselves how short-lived that is which is closed by an ending. And all that is passing is rendered worthless to their senses, forasmuch as that pours in its light through the rays of intelligence, which once received never departs. And as soon as they contemplate the infinite extent of eternity, they cease any longer to desire as great whatsoever has an end to limit it.

But the mind when lifted up is carried beyond the limits of time, even when by the flesh it is held fast in time, and it looks down from a greater height on all that is to have an end, the more truly it knows the things without end. Now this very consideration of the short span of man's estate is itself an offering ^virtutis of singular efficacy^ to our Maker. Whence a sacrifice of this merit is here rightly offered together with prayer, when it is said, O remember that my life is iciud. As if it were said in plain words, ' Regard with loving-kindness one that is quickly gone, in that I claim to be looked upon by Thee with greater pity, even in proportion as I myself do not turn away mine eyes from the contemplation of my short span.' But seeing that when the season of our present life is cut short, there is no more return to the work of earning our forgiveness, it is rightly added, Mine eye shall no more return to see good. xiv. 29. The eye of the dead ' no more returneth to see good,' in that for the setting forth of good works, the soul once stiipped of the flesh knows no return. It is hence that the rich man, whom the fire of hell was devouring, knew that he could never restore himself b}' doing works ;

for he never turned himself to do good to himself, but to his brethren Lukeie, that were left; 1 pray thee, father Abraham, that thou wouldest send him to my father'' s house; for I hare Jive brethren, that he may testify nnto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. For hoj)e even though unNo return for work or for mercy after death, 437 founded is used to cheer the stricken soul ; but the lost, that Book they may feel their woe the keener, lose even hope as to 'pardon. And hence when he was given over to avenging flames, he was not anxious lo help himself, as we said, but his brethren, in that he knew that he would never be without the torments of those fires, the punishment of despair being superadded. Hence Solomon saith, Whatsoever tity hand^cc^^^flndetlt to do, do it with thy viight; for there is no work, ' nor device, nor knotcledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, ichither thou goest. So ' the eye shall no more return to see good,' in that the soul, on meeting with its recompense, is never again recalled to tell to the account of practice. Therefore forasmuch as all that is seen is fleeting, and the things that follow are to endure, blessed Job rightly combined the two in one verse, saying, O remember that my life is iiiiid : mine eye sliall no more see good.

For looking at the transitoriness of things present, he says, O remember that my life is wind. But contemplating the eternity of those that come after, he added. Mine eye shall no more return to see good. And here, furthermore, he justly proceeds to take upon him the voice of the whole race of man destitute of the benefit of redemption, saying, Ver. 8. The eye of man shall not see me.

For ' the eye of Man' is the pity of the Redeemer, which softens the hardness of our insensibility, when it looks upon us. Hence, as the Gospel witnesses, it is said, AndTuM^ei^, the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord. And he went out, and wept bitterly. But the soul when divested of the flesh ' the eye of Man' doth not henceforth at all regard, in that it never delivers him after death, whom grace doth not restore to pardon before death. For hence Paul saith, Behold, now is 2 Cor. the accepted time, behold, now is the day of salvation. ' ^* Hence the Psalmist saith, For His mercy is for the present Vs. 118, state of being ^ ; for this reason, that the man whom mercy doth not rescue now, after the present state of being, justice alone consigns to punishment. Hence Solomon saith. And Ecclef». if the tree fall toward the south or toward the north, in the^^^^' place where the tree falleth there it shall be. For when, at d V. ' in scecidmrij which is so taken by S. Greg, unlike its usual meaning. 438 The wicked stand not iii Judgment. Job 7, the moment of the falling of the human being, either the ■—-^ — Holy Spirit or the Evil Spirit receives the soul departed from the chambers of the flesh, he will keep it with him for ever without change, so that neither once exalted, shall it be precipitated into woe, nor once plunged into eternal woes, any further arise to take the means of escape.

Therefore let the holy man, contemplating the ills of mankind, viz. how he is removed from the present world without the knowledge of his Redeemer, and buried in everlasting flames without remedy, and taking up their voice in his own person, give utterance to the words. And the eye of man shall not see me. Forasmuch as the man whom the grace of the Redeemer doth not now look upon to correct, it doth not then visit to keep from destruction. For the Lord, when He cometh to judgment, looketh on the sinner to smite, but He doth not look on him to acknowledge him in bestowing the grace of salvation. He taketh account of sins, and knoweth not the life of those that perish. Hence after that the holy man had averred that he could no more be ' seen by the eye of Man' after the present life, he rightly added at once ; TJime eyes are upon me, and I shall not stand. ^^'i31. As though he said in plain words; * Thou, when thou comest in severity to Judgment, both seest not, to save, and yet seest, to smite, in that him, whom Thou lookest not on in the present life with the pitifulness of Thy saving care, hereafter looking on Thou dost extinguish by Thy law of justice. For now the sinner casts away the fear of God, and yet lives, blasphemes and yet prospers, because the pitiful Creator w^ould not in seeing punish him, whom He would rather by waiting for bring to amendment; as it is written, "Wisd. And icinkest at the sins of men for their repentance. But ' ' W'hen the sinner is then looked upon, he ' does not stand,' in that when the strict Judge minutely examines his deserts, the convicted sinner cannot bear up against his torments.

Not but that this likewise accords with the voice of the righteous, whose mind is ever anxiously fixed on the coming Judgment. For they have fears for every thing that they do, whilst they hecdfully consider who are the persons, and before what a Judge they will have to stand. They V)ehold the power of His Mightiness, and they consider wliat The rufhteous could not stand but through Mercy. 439 an amount of eruilt they are tied and bound with from their Book . ... VIII. own imperfection. They reckon up the evil deeds of their 'own doing, and muhiply over against them the benefits of their Creator. They reflect how rigidly He judges wicked deeds, how minutely He examines good ones ; and they foresee without a shadow of doubt that they w^ill be lost, if they be judged apart Irom pity: for even this very life that we seem to live righteously is sin, if, when He takes account of our lives, the mercy of God does not make allowance for it in His own eyes. For it is hence written in this very book, Yea^ the stars are not pure in His sight. For strictly Job25,5. judged in His sight those very persons do also bear spots of defilement, that shine bright in the purity of holiness. Therefore it is well said, T7iine eyes are upon me^ and I shall not stand. As if it were said in plain terms by the voice of the righteous man, * If I be sifted with an exact scrutiny, I cannot stand up in undergoing judgment, for life cannot bear up against punishment, if the mercilessness of just retribution bears hard upon it.' Now both the sin and the punishment of that same human race is well added in few words, where it is said immediately afterwards, Ver. 9. As the cloud is consumed and vanisJietJt away ; so he that goeth doivn to hell shall come up no more.

For a cloud is suspended in the higher regions, but it is condensed and driven by the wind that it flies, and it is scattered by the heat of the sun that it vanishes. Thus, thus verily is it with the hearts of men, which by the faculty of reason bestowed upon them dart on high, but driven by the blasts of the evil spirit, they are forced hither and thither by the bad impulses of their desires, but by the searching eye of the Judge above they are melted as if by the heat of the sun, and being once consigned to the regions of woe, never return for the benefit of working. Let the holy man then, in setting forth the elevation, the career, and the eclipse of the human race, exclaim. As the cloud, is consumed and vanishetJi away^ so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. As if he spake in plain words, saying, ' In flying on high he is brought to nought, who by exalting himself is advancing to destruction, whom, if sin once force 440 T7ie damned relum not to their old home. Job 7, to punishment, mercy never more restores to pardon.' Hence — -^* — it is yet fm'ther added, Moral. / ' He shall return no more to his own house. xviii. 34. As the house of the body is a bodily habitation, so that becomes to each separate mind ' its own house,' whatsoever thing it is used to inhabit in desire.

And so ' there is no more returning to his own house,' because, when once a man is given over to eternal punishments, he is henceforth no more recalled thither, where he had attached himself in love. Moreover by the designation of hell the despair of the sinner may also be set forth, of which it is said by the Ps. 6, 5. Psalmist, In hell, who shall confess to TJiee ? Whence again Piov. it is written, JVhen the luujodlij man cometh into the pit of ^^' ^' sinners, he contemneth. Now whosoever yields himself to ungodliness, doth assuredly quit the life of righteousness by a proper death. But when a man after sin is furthermore overwhelmed by a mountain of despair, what else is this but that after death he is buried in the torments of hell .'' Thereibre it is rightly said. As the cloud is consumed, and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to hell shall come tip no more ; in that it very often happens, that with the commission of wickedness despair also is united, and the way of returning is henceforth cut off. But the hearts of the despairing are rightly compared to clouds, in that they are at once darkened with the mists of error, and thick with the number of sins ; but being consumed, they vanish away, in that being lighted up by the blaze of the final Judgment, they are scattered to the winds.

' The house' too is often understood for the dwelling-place of the heart. Hence it is said to one that Marks, was healed. Go to thine house; in that it is most meet that ^^* the sinner after pardon should turn back into his own mind, so as not to do aught a second time which may justly subject him to the scourge. But he that has ' gone down to hell,' shall no more ' ascend into his own house,' in that him, that despair overwhelms, it puts forth without from the habitation of the heart. And he cannot return back within, because when he has been ejected without, day by day he falls urged on into worse extremes. For man was made to contemplate his Creator, that he might ever be seeking after His likeness, God no longer the dwelling of those who forsake Him. 441 and dwell in ihe festival ^ of His love. But beinp: cast withBook . • • VII T out himself by disobedience, he lost the seat of his mind, in - — ; — 1 1 sol emthat being left all abroad in dark ways, he wandered far from nitate the habitation of the true light. Whence it is further added with propriety, Neither shall his place know him any more.

For ' the place' of man, but not a local place, the Creator Himself became. Who created him to have his being in Himself, which same place man did then forsake, when on hearing the words of the deceiver, he forsook the love of the Creator. But when Almighty God in the work of redemption shewed Himself even by a bodily appearing. He Himself, so to say, following the footsteps of His runagate, came as a place where to keep man whom He had lost. For if the Creator could not in any sense be styled ' a place,' the Psalmist, in praising God, would never have said, TJte Ps. 102, children of thy servants shall dwell there^. For we i^CTera /^j^gj-g. say there, except when we mark out a place in a particular is not in manner. But there are very many, who even after they have received the succour of the Redeemer, are precipitated into the darkness of despair, and they perish the more desperately, in proportion as they despise the very offered remedies of mercv. And so it is rio^htly said concerning; him that is damned. Neither shall his place know him any more. For he is not known by his Creator in His sorer severity at the Judgment, in the same degree that he is not recalled even by His gifts to the grace of restoration. And hence it is particularly to be observed, that he does not say, ' Nor shall he know his own place any more;' but.

Neither shall his place knoiv him any more. For whereas that ' knowing' is ascribed not to the person, but to the place, the Creator Himself is manifestly set forth, by the name of ' a place,' Who, when He cometh in strictness for the final account, shall say to all tliat abide in iniquity, I know yon not ichence ye are. But Lukei3, the Elect severally, in proportion as they consider that lost^^* sinners are unsparingly cut off, day by day purify themselves with greater diligence from the stains of the iniquity they have done; and when they see others on the brink of ruin grow cold in the love of life, they earnestly inllame themselves to tears of penitence. Hence it is well added, 442 Men should not refrain from confessing sin. Job 7, Ver. 11. There/ore also I will not refrain my rnoiith. '36. For that man ' refrains his mouth,' that is ashamed to ^^ confess the evil he has done, ror to put the mouth to labour is to employ it in the confession of sin done, but the righteous man doth ' not refrain his mouth,' in that forestalliug the wrath of the searching Judge, he falls wroth upon himself Ps.95,2.in words of self-confession. Hence the Psalmist saith, Let us come before His Presence icith confession^. Hence it is Prov. delivered by Solomon, He that coveteth his sins shall not ' * prosper, but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have lb.

18, mercy. Hence it is written again, The Just man is first the accuser of himself. But the mouth is never opened in confession, unless at the thought of the searching Judgment the spirit is in straits from fear; and hence it is fitly said afterwards, I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. xxi. 37. For ' anguish of the spirit' sets the tongue in motion, so that the voice of confession is levelled against the guilt of evil practice. Moreover it is to be borne in mind, that oftentimes even the reprobate make confession of sins, but are too proud to weep for them. But the Elect prosecute ^-ith tears of severe self-condemnation those sins_.oi* theirs ] which they disclose in words of confession. Hence it was well that after blessed Job had pledged himself not to spare his lips, he added directly the anguish of the spirit. As if he avowed plainly, saying, ' The tongue doth in such sort tell of guilt, that the spirit is not ever let go loose amidst other things, ii'ee of the sting of soitow; but in telling my sins, I disclose my wound, and in thinking over my sins for their amendment, I seek the cure of the wound in the medicine of sorrow.' For he that tells indeed the evil deeds he has done, but holds back from lamenting what he has told, he as it were by taking off the covering discovers the wound, but in deadness of mind he applies no remedy to the wound.

Therefore it is needful that sorrow alone should wring out the voice of confession, lest the wound, being exposed, but neglected, in proportion as it is henceforth more freely touched through the knowledge of our fellowcreatures, fester •^ V. ' in confessionc' Which however is often used for praise and thanksgiving. Bitter and icholesome self-converse of penitents. 443 so much the worse. Contrariwise the Psalmist had not onlv Book * V^T TT disclosed the sore of his heart, but was furtheiTQore applying ^ to it thus laid bare the remedy of sorrow, when he said, / achioicledge my sin unto Thee^ and my iniquity uill Ps.32,5. I think on. For by so ' acknowledging' he discovered the hidden sore, and by thus ' thinking on' it, what else did he, than apply a remedy to the wound ? But to the mind that is distressed, and anxiously thinking on its own ills, there arises a strife in behalf of self against self. For when it urges itself to the sorrows of penitence, it rends itself with secret upbraiding. And hence it is justly added afterwards, I will converse with the bitterness of my spirit.

For when we are in trouble from dread of God's judgment, whilst we bewail some things done wrong, seeing that by the mere force of our bitterness alone we are sluTed up to enter into ourselves more observantly, we find in ourselves other things also to bewail more largely. For it often happens that what escaped us in our insensibility, is made known to us more exactly in tears. And the troubled mind finds out more surely the ill that it has done and knew not of, and its conflict discovers to it in a true point of view how far it had deviated from the peacewhich is of truth, in that its guilt, which while secure it thought not of, it finds out in itself when disturbed. For the bitterness of penance gaining ground urgently brings home to the confounded heart the unlawful things it has committed, exhibits the Judge arrayed against them in severity, strikes deep the threats of punishment, smites the soul with consternation, overwhelms it with shame, chides the unlawful motions of the heart, and disturbs the repose of its mischievous self-security, all the good gifts that the Creator has vouchsafed to bestow upon him, all the evil that he himself has done in return for the good things of His hand, are reckoned up, how that he was created by Him in a wonderful way, that he was sustained freely and for nought, that he was endowed with the substance of reason at his creation, that he was called by the grace of his Creator, that he himself even when called refused to follow, that the pitifulness of Him that calleth did not disregard him, not even when deaf and resisting, that he was enlightened with gifts, that of his own free will, even after these gifts received, 444 Present injlnnity grievous to good men.

Job 7, he blinded himself by wicked deeds, that he was cleared *^J 11 from the wrong doings of his state of blindness by the strokes ' of fatherly solicitude, that by means of the pains of these strokes he was restored to the joys of saving health by the remedy that mercy applied, that being subject to certain bad practices, though not of the worst sort, he does not cease to sin even in the midst of these strokes; that the grace of God even when slighted did not abandon its sinner. And thus whereas it upbraids with so much keenness the agitated mind at one time by a display of the gifts of God, another time by the reproaches of its own behaviour, the bitterness of spirit has a tongue of its own in the heart of the righteous, which speaks to it the more searchingly, in proportion as it is heard within. And hence it is not at all said, • I will talk in the bitterness of my spirit,' but / trill converse u:iiJi the bitterness; in that the force of grief, which taking each sin separately, stimulates the deadened mind to lamentations, as it were shapes words of converse to it, wherein it being chidden might find itself out, and henceforth rise up with better heed to the safe keeping of itself. And so let the righteous man say in his own voice ; as bearing a figure of Holy Church, let him say in ours too;

1 trill converse with the bitterness of my s^nrit. As if he spake it in plainer words, saying, ' Within I hold converse with the anguish of my heart against mine own self, and without I hide myself from the lash of the Judge.' Now the mind that is borne hard upon by the pangs of penitence is gathered up close into itself, and severed by strong resolution from all the gratifications of the flesh, it longs to advance to things above, yet it still feels opposition from the corruption of the flesh. And hence it is rightly added immediately, Ver. 12. Am I a sea or a whale, that thou hast compassed me about with a prison ? xxiii. 39. Man is ' compassed about with a prison,' in that he very often both strives to mount on high by the strides of virtuous attainments, and yet is im]:)eded by the corruption of his fleshly part. Of which same the Psalmist rightly prays P8. 142 that he might be divested, saying, Bring my soul out of ^ ' yrison^ that I may praise Thy Name. But what have wc set forth by the designation of ' the sea,' saving the hearts of Satan a whale, the carnal mind a sea,whicfi God restrains .44.6 carnal men tossed with swelling thoughts ? and what by Book the name of ' a whale,' except our old enemy ? who when ^^^^ in taking possession of the hearts of the children of this world he makes his way into them, does in a certain sort swim about in their slippery thoughts.

But the whale is made fast in prison, in that the evil spint, being cast down below, is kept mider by the weight of his own punishment, that he should have no power to fly up to the heavenly realms, as Peter testifies, who saith, God spared not Mc'^Fet. Angels that simied^ but cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness to be reserved unto Judgment, * The whale' is fast bound in prison, in that he is prevented from tempting the good as much as he desires. The sea too is ' compassed about with a prison,' in that the swelling and raging desires of carnal minds, for the doing of the evil that they loug for, are clogged by the straitness of their inability. For they often long to have power over their betters, yet by the Divine ordering, that regulates all things marvellously, they ai*e made to bow beneath them. They desire, beingexalted high, to injure the good, yet being brought under their power, they look for consolation fi'om them. For the sake of fulfilling the gratification of the flesh, they covet length of years in the present life, yet they are carried off from it with haste. Concerning such it is well said by the Psalmist, ^ And He put the waters as it were in a skin. For Ps. 78, ' the waters are in a skin' when their loose desires, in that J y,, they find not the execution in deed, are kept down under a carnal heart.

Therefore the whale and the sea are hemmed in by the close pressure of a prison, in that whether as regards the evil spirit or his followers, in whose minds he gathers himself and sets rolling therein the waves of tumultuous thoughts, the rigour of the Most High confines them, that they should have no power to accomplish the evil things that they ai'e set upon.

But holy men, in proportion as they contemplate the mysteries of heavenly truths with more perfect purity of heart, pant after them with daily increased ardour of affection. They long to be henceforth filled to the full at that fountain head, whence they as yet taste but a little drop with the mouth of contemplation. They long entirely to subdue 446 The Elect long for the liberty that hejits them. Job 7, the promptings of the flesh, no longer to be subject to any -— — ^ thing unlawful in the imaginations of the heart springing Wisd.9, from the coiTuption thereof. But because it is written, For the corruptible body presseth doivn the soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things, therefore they henceforth rise above themselves in purpose of mind, but being still subject to the capricious motions of their imperfect nature, they lament that they are confined in the prison-house of corruption. Am I a sea or a whale, that Thou dost compass me about with a prison ? As if it were in plain words ; * The sea or the whale, i. e. the wicked and their prime mover, the Evil Spirit, because they desire to have a loose given them for the mere liberty of committing iniquity alone, are justly held bound in the prison of the punishment inflicted on them. But I, that already long for the liberty of Thine eternal state, why am I still enclosed in the prison of mine own corruption ?' Not that this is either demanded in pride by the righteous, in that being inflamed with the love of the Truth they desire completely to surmount the narrow compass of their imperfect condition;

nor yet that it is unjustly ordered by the Author of the just, in that in delaying the wishes of His Elect, He puts them to pain, and in paining purifies, that they may one day be the better enabled by that delay, for the receiving that they desire. But the Elect, so long as they are kept away from the interior rest, turn back into their own hearts, and being there buried from the tumults of the flesh, as it were seek a retreat of infinite delight. But therein they often feel the stings of temptation, and are subject to the goadings of the flesh, and there they meet with the hardest toils, where they had looked for perfect rest from toil. Hence the holy man after the prison of his state of corruption that he told of, hastening to return to the tranquil regions of the heart, seeing that he experienced in the interior also all that same strife, to escape which he fled from things without, adds immediately, saying, Ver. 13, 14. When I say my bed shall comfort me, I shall be eased in speaking with myself on my couch, then Thou scarest me with dreams, and terrijiesi me through visions. Tite ' heiT of the heart Irouhled with * visions' of Judgment. 447

For in Holy Writ a ' bed ' a ' couch ' or ^ litter ' is Book usually taken for the secret depth of the heart. For it is XXIV t hence that under the likeness of each separate soul, the Spouse, urged by the piercing darts of holy love, says in the Song of Songs, By night on my bed I sought him, whom my Cant. 3, soul love th. For ' by night and on the bed is the beloved^' sought,' in that the appearance of the Invisible Creator, apart from every image of a bodily appearing, is found in the chamber of the heart. And hence ' Truth' saith to those same lovers of Him, The kingdom of God is loithin you. And Luke again, If I go not away., the Comforter will not come. As if johnjg it were in plain words ; * If I do not withdraw My Body 7. from the eyes of your fixed regard, I lead you not by the Comforter, the Spirit, to the perception of the unseen.' Hence it is said by the Psalmist of the just. The Saints Ps=. 149, shall he joyful in glory., they shall rejoice upon their beds ; ' in that when they flee the mischiefs from things without, they exult in safety within the recesses of their hearts. But the joy of the heart will then be complete, when the fight of the flesh shall have ceased without.

For so long as the flesh allures, because as it were the wall of our house is shaken, even the very bed is disturbed. And hence it is rightly said by that Psalmist, Thou hast made all his bed in his sickness. P9.4i,3. For when temptation of the flesh moves us, our infirmity being made to tremble disturbs even the bed of the soul. But what do we imderstand in this place by ' dreams* and ' visions' saving the representations of the last searching Judgment ? What we already have some slight glimpse of through fear, but do not see it as it really is. Thus holy men, as we have said, ever turn back to the secret recesses of the heart, when from the world without, they either meet with successes beyond their wishes, or with adversities beyond their strength, and, wearied with their toils without, they seek as a bed, or litter, the resting-places of the heart. But whilst by certain pictures of their imagination they see how searching the judgments of God are, they are as it were disturbed in their very repose on their beds by the vision of a dream. For they behold after what sort the strict Judge Cometh, Who while with the power of infinite Majesty He lights up the secret recesses of the heart, will bring back 448 Serious thought brings terror. Various ki?ids of dreams. Job 7, every sin before our eves.

They bethink themselves what 13. 14. ' . " -,T-^ — 'the shame of ihat is, to be confounded in the siarht of the lUOUAL. ° whole human race, of all the Angels and the Archangels. They reflect what agony is in store after that confounding, wlien at one and the same time guilt shall prey upon the soul imperishably perishing, and hell fire upon the flesh unfailingly failing. When, then^ the mind is shaken by so terrific a conception, what else is this but that a sad dream is presented upon the bed } Therefore let him say, When I say. My bed shall comfort me, and I shall he eased talking ivith myself on my couch; then Thou scares t me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions. As if he confessed openly, saying, * If fleeing from external things, I turn back into the interior, and am anxious in some sort to rest upon the bed »A.B.D. of mv heart, there, whilst Thou dost set me to ^ the contemmeT plation of Thy severity, Thou makest me to fear horribly by the mere images my foresight raises up.' Now it is well said. And I shall be eased, talking with myself in my bed, in that when we retm*n wearied to the silence of our hearts, as it were holding converse on our beds, we handle the secret words of thought within ourselves. But this very converse of ours is turned into dread, in that thereby there is more forcibly presented to us in imagination the view, which holds out the terrors of the Judge.