No More Learning

Such a man is often overlooking those that are before him, contradicting the absent, giving and receiving insults in imagination, making his reply severer than the insult received, and when there is none there to encounter him, he makes up a quarrel in his own breast with much uproar. He then that is pressed down by an intolerable weight of angry thoughts, has the misfortune of a rabble in his own bosom. Another has delivered himself over to the law of avarice, and, out of conceit with his own possessions, hankers after what belongs to another: it often happens that being unable to obtain what he longs for, he spends the day indeed in idleness, but the night in thought; he is a sluggard in useful work, because he is harassed with unlawful devices; he multiplies his schemes, and stretches his bosom the wider by all the contrivances and expedients of his invention; he is busy to reach the desired objects, and in order to obtain them he casts about for the most secret windings to serve for his occasions, and the moment that he reckons himself to have hit upon any crafty contrivance on an occasion, he is now in high glee as having obtained possession of his object, and now he is contriving what he may even add further to the thing when gotten, and is considering how it ought to be improved to a better condition; and whereas he is now in possession, and is bringing it to wear a better appearance, he is next considering the snares of those that are envious of him, and pondering what dispute they may fasten upon him, and making out what answer to give, and at the time he has nothing in his hands, the empty handed disputant is wearing himself out in defence of the thing which he desires. Thus although he has not got a particle of the object desired, yet he has already in his breast the fruit of his desire in the troublesomeness of the quarrel; and so he, that is overcome by the tumultuous instigations of avarice, has a vast population besetting him. Another one has subjected himself to the empire of pride, and while he lifts himself up against his fellow-creatures, he submits his heart
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to the vice, to his great misery. He covets the wreaths of elevated honours, he aims to exalt himself by his successes, and all that he desires to be, he represents to himself in the secret thoughts of his own breast. He is already as it seems seated on the judgment-seat, already sees the services of his subjects at his command, already shines above others, already brings evil upon one party, or recompenses another for having done this. Already in his own imagination he goes forth into public surrounded by throngs, already marks with what observance he is sustained in his high position; yet while fancying this, he is creeping by himself alone. Now he is treading one set under his feet, now he is elevating another, now he is gratifying his dislikes upon those he treads under foot, now he is receiving applause from the other whom he has elevated. What else is that man doing, who has such a multitude of fanciful imaginations pictured in his heart, save gazing at a dream with waking eyes? and thus, since he undergoes the misery of so many combinations of cases, which he pictures to himself, he plainly carries about within him crowds, that are engendered of his desires. Another has by this time learnt to eschew forbidden objects, yet he dreads lest he should lack the good things of this world, he is anxious to retain the goods vouchsafed him; he is ashamed to appear inferior among men, and he is full of concern lest he should become either a poor man at home, or an object of contempt in public. He anxiously inquires what may suffice for himself, what the needs of his dependants may require; and that he may sufficiently discharge the rights of a patron towards his dependants, he searches for patrons whom he may himself wait upon; but whilst he is joined to them in a relation of dependence, he is undoubtedly implicated in their concerns, wherein he often consents to forbidden acts, and the wickedness, which he has no mind for on his own account, he commits for the sake of other objects which he has not forsaken. For often, while dreading the diminution of his reputation in the world, he gives his approval to those things with his superiors, which in his own secret judgment he has now learnt to condemn. Whilst he anxiously bethinks himself what he owes to his patrons, what to his dependants, what gain he may make for himself, how he may promote his inclinations, he is in a manner overlaid with resort of crowds, as many in number as the demands of the cases whereby he is distracted.
58. But holy men, on the other hand, because their hearts are not set upon any thing of this world, are assuredly never subject to the pressure of any tumults in their breast, for they banish all inordinate stirrings of desire from the heart's bed, with the hand of holy deliberation. And because they contemn all transitory things, they do not experience the licentious familiarities of the thoughts springing therefrom. For their desires are fixed upon their eternal country alone, and loving none of the things of this world, they enjoy a perfect tranquillity of mind; and hence it is said with justice, Which built desolate places for themselves. For to ‘build desolate places' is to banish from the heart's interior the stirrings of earthly desires, and with a single aim at the eternal inheritance to pant in love of inward peace. Had he not banished from himself all the risings of the imaginations of the heart, who said, One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord? [Ps. 27, 4] For he had betaken himself from the concourse of earthly desires to no less a solitude than his own self, where he would be the more secure in seeing nought without, in proportion as there was no insufficient object that he loved. For from the tumult of earthly things he had sought a singular and perfect retreat in a quiet mind, wherein he would see God the more clearly, in proportion as he saw Him alone with himself also alone.
59. Now they, who ‘build for themselves solitary places,’ are very properly also called ‘consuls,’ for they set up the mind's solitude in themselves in such wise, that whereinsoever they have the greater ability, they never cease to consult for the good of others through charity. Accordingly let
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us consider a little more particularly the case of him, whom we just now noticed as ‘a consul,’ and see in what manner he casts abroad the counters [b] of the virtues, for the setting forth examples of a sublime life to the lines of people under him. Observe, in order to inculcate the returning good for evil, he makes confession on his own person, saying, If I have returned on them that requited me evil, then should I deserve to fall empty before mine enemies. [Ps. 7, 4] To excite the love of our Maker, he introduces himself saying, But it is good for me to draw near to [to cleave] God. To work an impression of holy humility, he shews the secrets of his heart, saying, Lord, mine heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty. [Ps. 131, 1] He excites us by his own example to imitate his unswerving zeal, saying, Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee, and am not I grieved with them that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred, I count them mine enemies. [Ps. 139, 21. 22. ] To light up in us the desire of our eternal home, he laments the length of this present life, and says, Woe is me that my sojourn is prolonged. [Ps. 120, 5. V. ] Surely he shone forth in the magnificence of the consulship, who, by the example of his own conversation, casts before us so many of virtue's counters.
60. But let this counsellor tell whether he too builds a solitary place for himself, For he says, Lo, I fled far off and remained in the wilderness. He ‘fleeth far off,’ in that he raises himself from the throng of earthly desires in high contemplation of God; and he ‘remains in the wilderness,’ in that he persists in the retiring purpose of his mind. Of this solitude Jeremiah saith well to the Lord, I sat alone from the face of Thy hand, because Thou hast filled me with threatening. [Jer. 15, 17] For the ‘face of God's hand,’ is the stroke of His righteous judgment, whereby He cast man out of Paradise, when he waxed proud, and shut him out into [caecitatem A. B. C. D. E. ] the darkness of his present place of banishment. But ‘His threatening' is the farther dread of a subsequent punishment. Accordingly after ‘the face of His hand,’ we are yet further terrified with ‘His threats,’ because both the penalty of our present banishment has already fallen upon us in the actual experience of His judgment, and, if we do not leave off from sinning, He further consigns us to everlasting punishments. Let the holy man then, here cast away, consider whence it was that man fell, and whither the justice of the Judge yet further hurries him, if he goes on to sin afterwards, and let him dismiss from his breast the countless hosts of temporal desires, and bury himself in the deep solitude of the mind, saying, I sat alone from the face of Thy Hand; for Thou hast filled me with threatening. As though he said in plain words, ‘when I consider what I already suffer in experience of Thy judgment, I seek with trembling the withdrawal of my mind from the tumult of temporal desires; for I dread even still worse those eternal punishments, which Thou dost threaten. ’ Well then is it said of ‘kings and counsellors,’ which built desolate places for themselves. In that they, who know both how to govern themselves, and to advise for others, being unable as yet to obtain admission to that interior tranquillity, fashion a resemblance to it within themselves by pursuit of a quiet mind.
Ver. 15. Or with princes that have gold, who fill their houses with silver. [xxxi]
61. Whom does he call princes, but the rulers of holy Church, whom the Divine economy substitutes without intermission in the room of their predecessors? Concerning these the Psalmist, speaking to the same Church, says, Instead of thy fathers thou hast children born to thee, whom thou mayest make princes in all lands. [Ps. 45, 16] And what does he call gold, saving wisdom; of which Solomon saith, A treasure to be desired lieth at rest in the mouth of the wise? [Prov. 21, 20]
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That is, he saw wisdom as gold, and therefore called it a treasure: and she is well designated by the name of ‘gold,’ for that, as temporal goods are purchased with gold, so are eternal blessings with wisdom. If wisdom had not been gold, it would never have been said by the Angel to the Church [p] of Laodicea, I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire. For we ‘buy ourselves gold,’ when we pay obedience first, to get wisdom in exchange, and it is to this very bargain that a certain wise man rightly stimulates us, in these words, If thou desire wisdom, keep the commandments, and the Lord shall give her unto thee. [Ecclus. 1, 26] And what is signified by the ‘houses,’ but our consciences? Hence it is said to one that was healed, Go unto thine house. [Matt. 9, 16] As though he had heard in plain words, ‘After the outward miracles, turn back into thine own conscience, and weigh well what kind of person within thou shouldest shew thyself before God. ’ And what too is represented by silver but the divine revelations, of which the Psalmist says, The words of the Lord are pure words, as silver tried in the fire? [Ps 12, 6] The word of the Lord is said to be like silver tried in the fire, because God's word, when it is fixed in the heart, is tried with afflictions.
62. Let the holy man then, full of the Spirit of Eternity, both sum up the things that shall be, and gather together in the open bosom of his mind all those, whom ages long after should give birth to, and consider with wonder and astonishment those Elect souls, with whom he would be enjoying rest in life eternal without the weariness of labour, had none ever been led into sin by the passion of pride, and let him say, For now should I have lain still and been quiet; I should have slept; then had I been at rest with kings and counsellors of the earth, which built desolate places for themselves, or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver. For as, if no decay of sin had ever ruined our first parent, he would not have begotten of himself children of hell, but they all, who must now be saved by the Redemption, would have been born of him Elect souls, and none else, let him look at these, and reflect how he might have been at rest in their company. Let him
see the holy Apostles so ruling the Church they had undertaken, that they never ceased to give it counsel by the word of preaching, and so call them kings and counsellors. After these let him behold rulers arise in their room, who by living according to wisdom should have gold, and by preaching right ways to others should shine with the silver of sacred discourse, and let him call them real princes, the houses of whose conscience are full of gold and silver. But as it is not enough sometimes for the Spirit of Prophecy to foresee future events, unless at the same time it presents to the view of the prophet the past and by-gone, the holy man opens his eyes below and above, and not only fixes them on the future, but also recalls to mind the past. For he forthwith adds,
Ver. 16. Or as an hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants which never saw light. [xxxii]
63. An abortive child, because it is born before the full period, being dead is forthwith put out of sight. Whom then does the holy man term ‘abortives,’ with whom he might ‘have been at rest,’ he reflects, saving all the Elect, who from the beginning of the world lived before the time of the Redemption, and yet studied to mortify themselves to this world. Those who had not the tables of the Law, ‘died’ as it were ‘from the womb,’ in that it was by the natural law that they fear their Creator, and believing the Mediator would come, they strove to the best of their power, by mortifying their pleasures, to keep even those very precepts, which they had not received in writing. And so that period, which at the beginning of the world produced our fathers dead to this life, was in a certain sense the ‘womb of an abortive birth. ’ For there we have Abel, of whom we
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read not that he resisted his brother when he slew him. There Enoch, who approved himself such that he was carried up to walk with the Lord. There Noah, who hereby, that he was acceptable to the searching judgment of God, was, in the world, the world's survivor. There Abraham, who, while a pilgrim in the world, became the friend of God. There Isaac, who, by reason of his fleshly eyes waxing dim, by his age had no sight of things present, but by the efficacy of the prophetic Spirit lighted up future ages even with his extraordinary luminousness of sight. There Jacob, who in humility fled his brother's indignation, and by kindness overcame the same; who was fruitful indeed in his offspring, but yet being more fruitful in richness of the Spirit, bound that offspring with the chains of prophecy. And this untimely birth is well described as hidden, in that from the beginning of the world, while there are some few, whom we are informed of by Moses' mention of them, by far the largest portion of mankind is hidden from our sight. For we are not to imagine that during all the period up to the receiving of the Law, only just so many righteous men came forth, as Moses has run through in the most summary notice. And thus, forasmuch as the multitude of the righteous born from the beginning of the world is in great measure withdrawn from our knowledge, this untimely birth is called hidden. And it is also said, not to have been, because a few only being enumerated, the generality of them are not preserved among us by any written record for their memorial.
64. Now it is rightly added; As infants which never saw light. For they, who came into this world after the Law was received, were conceived to their Creator, by the instruction of the same Law; yet, though conceived, they never saw light, in that these never could attain to the coming of the Lord's Incarnation, which yet they stedfastly believed; for the Lord Incarnate saith, I am the Light of the world [John 8, 12]; and that very Light declareth, Many Prophets and righteous men have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them. [Matt. 13, 17] Therefore the fruit ‘conceived never saw light,’ in that, although quickened to entertain the hope of a future Mediator by the plain declarations of the Prophets, they were never able to behold His Incarnation. In all these then the inward conception brought forth a form of faith, but never carried this on so far as to the open vision of God's Presence; for that death intervening hurried them from the world before Truth made manifest had shed light thereon.
65. Thus the holy man then, full of the spirit of Eternity, fixes to his memory by the hand of the heart all that is transient; and because every creature is little in regard to the Creator, by the same Spirit, Which hath nought either in Itself or about Itself saving always to be, he views both what shall be, and what hath been, and directs the eye of his mind both below and above, and regarding things that are coming as past, he burns in the core of his heart toward eternal Being, and says, For now I should have lain still and been quiet. For ‘now’ belongs to the present time, and what else is it for one to seek a rest always placed in the present, but to pant after that bliss of eternity, whereunto there is nought in coming or in going? Which always Being The Truth, by the lips of Moses, shews to be His own attribute, so as to communicate it to us in some degree in the words, I AM THAT I AM, and He said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, HE THAT IS hath sent me unto you; and now, that he is contemplating things transient, and seeking an ever present bliss, and making mention of the light to come, and enumerating and considering the orders of the Elect children thereof, let him now shew us in a little plainer terms the rest itself that appertains to this light, and let him shew in plainer words, what is brought to pass therein every day relating to the life and conduct of the wicked. It proceeds;
Ver. 17. There the wicked cease from disturbance, and there the weary in strength be at rest.
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[xxxiii]
66. We have already said above, that herein, viz. that the hearts of sinners are possessed with a tumult of desires, they are grievously oppressed by a host of goading thoughts, but in this light, which the ‘infants conceived’ never saw, the wicked are said to ‘cease from their disquietude' for this reason, that the coming of the Mediator, which the fathers under the Law had long waited for, the Gentiles found to the peace of their life, as Paul testifies, who saith, Israel hath not obtained that which he seeketh for, but the election hath obtained it. [Rom. 11, 7] In this light then ‘the wicked cease from disquietude,’ inasmuch as the minds of the untoward, when they have come to the knowledge of the truth, eschew the wearisome desires of the world, and find rest in the quiet haven of interior love. Does not the Light Itself call us to this rest when It says, Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest; take My yoke upon You and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto Your souls; For My yoke is easy, and My burthen is light. [Matt. 11, 28-30] For what heavy yoke does He put upon our mind's neck, Who bids us shun every desire that causes disquietude? What heavy burthen does He lay upon His followers, Who warns us to decline the wearisome ways of the world? Now, by the testimony of the Apostle Paul, Christ died for the ungodly; [Rom. 5, 6] and it was for this reason that the Light Itself condescended to die for the ungodly, that these might not continue in the disorderment of their state of darkness. So let the holy man consider with himself, that by the mystery of the Incarnation ‘the Light’ rescues the wicked from heavy toil, while It takes clean away all the aims of wickedness from their hearts; let him reflect how every converted person has already here below a taste, by inward tranquillity, of that rest which he desires to have throughout eternity, and let him say, There the wicked cease from, disturbance, and the weary in strength are at rest.
67. For all they that are strong in this world are by their might in one way strong, not wearied out in strength; but they that are endued with might in the love of their Maker, the more they be strengthened in the love of God, which is their object of desire, become in the same degree powerless in their own strength, and the stronger their longing for the things of eternity, the more they are wearied as to earthly objects by a wholesome failure of their strength. Hence the Psalmist, being wearied with the strength of his love, said, My soul hath fainted in [al. toward as V. ] Thy salvation. [Ps. 119, 81] For his soul did faint while making way in God's salvation, in that he panted with desire of the light of eternity, broken of all confidence in the flesh. Hence he says again, My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord. [Ps. 84, 2] Now when he said ‘longeth,’ he added rightly, and ‘fainteth,’ since that longing for the Divine Being is little indeed, which is not likewise immediately followed by a fainting in one's self. For it is but meet that he who is inflamed to seek the courts of eternity, should be enfeebled in the love of this temporal state. So that he should be cold to the pursuit of this world, in proportion as he rises with soul more inflamed to the love of God. Which love if he completely grasps, he then at the same time completely quits the world, and the more entirely dies to temporal things, the higher he is made to soar after the life to come by the inspirations of Eternity. Had not that soul found itself wearied in its own strength, which exclaimed, My soul [so V. ] was melted when he spake; [Cant. 5, 6] clearly in that while the soul is touched by the inspirations of the secret communication, weakened in the seat of its own strength, it is ‘melted’ by the desire wherewith it is swallowed up, and finds itself wearied in itself by the same step whereby it is brought to see that there is a might without itself to which it soars. Hence when the Prophet was telling that he had seen a vision of God, he adds, And
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I, Daniel fainted and was sick certain days; [Dan. 8, 27] for when the soul is held fast to the power of God, the flesh waxes faint in respect of its own strength. Thus Jacob, who held an Angel in his hold, immediately afterwards halted upon one foot; for he that regards things on high with a genuine love, already forswears to walk in this world with a doubleminded affection. For he rests upon one foot, who is strong in the love of God alone; and it must needs be that the other should wither, for when the virtue of the soul gains increase, it behoves assuredly that the strength of the flesh wax dull. Let blessed Job, then, review the deep recesses of the hearts of the faithful, and consider the haven of inward peace that they find, while in advancing unto God they are enfeebled in their own strength, and let him say, There the weary in strength be at rest. As if he taught in plain words, ‘there the repose of light is the reward of those, whom the advancement of inward restoration wearies here. ’ Nor ought it to influence us, that after naming light he did not subjoin, in this, but there, for that which he beholds encompassing the Elect, he discovers to be our place as it were. Whence then the Psalmist, when contemplating the unchangeableness of Eternity, and saying, But Thou art the same, and Thy years shall not fail; [Ps. 102, 28] proclaims that this is the place of the Elect, by adding, But the children of Thy servants shall dwell there. For God, Who without position containeth all things, remains a place without locality to us who come to Him. And when we reach this place, our eyes are opened to see, what infinite vexation even our very repose of mind was in this life, for though the righteous by comparison with the bad already enjoy rest, yet in estimating the inmost Rest, they are altogether not at rest. Hence it is well added;
Ver. 18. There the former prisoners are alike without vexation.
[xxxiv]
68. For though the just are possessed by no riot of carnal desires, yet the clog of corruption binds them down in this life with hard chains; for it is written, For the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things. [Wisd. 9, 15] So herein even, that they are still mortal beings, they are weighed down by the burthen of their state of corruption, and chained and bound by its clogs, in that they are not yet risen in that liberty of an incorruptible life. For they meet with one thing from the mind, and another from the body, and they are spent every day in the inward conflict with themselves. Are they not indeed bound with the hard chain of vexation, whose mind, without labour, is dissolved in ignorance, and is not trained without the strivings of labour? When forced it stands erect, of itself it lies prostrate, and yet as soon as raised up, it forthwith falls, by conquering itself with laborious effort, its eyes are opened to see heavenly things, but recoiling, it flees the light, which had illuminated it. Are they not bound fast with the hard chain of vexation, who when their fired soul draws them with a perfect desire to the bosom of inward peace, suffer perturbation from the flesh in the heat of the conflict? And though this now no longer encounters it face to face, as though drawn up with hostile front, yet it still goes muttering like a captive in the rear of the mind, and, though with fears, it yet defiles with vile clamouring the form of fair tranquillity in the breast. Therefore, though the Elect subdue all enemies with a strong hand, since they long for the security of inward peace, it is yet a grievous vexation to them to have something still to vanquish. And leaving these out of the question, they endure over and above those chains too, which a sore necessity outwardly fastens upon them; for to eat, to drink, and to be tired, are chains of corruption, and chains too, which can never be unloosed, save when our mortal nature is turned into the glory of an immortal nature; for we fill our body with food to sustain it, lest it fail from extenuation; and we thin it down by abstinence, lest it oppress by repletion. We quicken it by motion, lest it be killed by lying
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motionless, but by setting it down we soon stop its motions, that by that very activity it may not give under. We clothe it with garments as a succour to it, lest the cold destroy it, and cast off these succours so sought after, lest the heat should parch it. Exposed then to so many vicissitudes and chances, what else do we, but drudge to the corruptibility of our state of being, that howsoever the multiplicity of the services rendered to it may sustain that body, which the fretting care of a frail nature subject to change weighs to the ground. Hence Paul says well, For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope. Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. [Rom. 8, 20. 21. ] For ‘the creature is made subject to vanity, not willingly,’ in that man, who willingly left the footing of inborn firmness, being pressed down by the weight of a deserved mortality, is the unwilling slave of the corruption of his changeful condition. But this creature is then rescued from the slavery of corruption, when in rising again it is lifted uncorrupt to the glory of the sons of God. Here then the Elect are bound with vexation, in that they are still pressed down by the curse of their corrupt condition. But when we are stripped of our corruptible flesh, we are as it were loosened from those chains of vexation, whereby we are now held bound. For we already long to come into the presence of God, but we are still hindered by the clog of a mortal body. So that we are justly called ‘prisoners,’ in that we have not as yet the advance of our desire to God free before us. Hence Paul, whose heart was set upon the things of eternity, yet who still carried about him the load of his corruption, being in bonds exclaims, Having a desire to be unloosed and to be with Christ. [Phil. 1, 23] For he would not desire to be ‘unloosed,’ unless, assuredly, he saw himself to be in bonds. Now because he saw that these bonds were most surely to be burst at the Resurrection, the Prophet rejoiced as if they were already burst asunder, when he said, Thou hast loosed my bonds. I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving. [Ps. 116, 16] Let the holy man then reflect that inward light is the haven that receives converted sinners, and let him say, There the wicked cease from trouble. Let him reflect, that holy men, being awearied with the exercising of desire, enjoy the deeper repose in that inmost bosom, and let him say, And there the weary in strength are at rest. Let him reflect, that being absolved from all the bonds of corruption at once and together, they attain those uncorrupt joys of liberty. And the former prisoners are alike without vexation. And it is wel1 said, the former prisoners, for while that ever present bliss is in his view, all that shall be, and is going [B. ‘and shall be gone’], seems as though past. For whilst the end of all things is awaited, all that passes away is accounted already to have been. But let him tell what all they, for whom the interior rest is there in store, shall meanwhile have done here. It goes on;
They have not heard the voice of the exactor. [non exaudierunt]
[xxxv]
69. Who else is to be understood by the title of the ‘exactor,’ saving that insatiate prompter, who for once bestowed the coin of deceit upon mankind, and from that time ceases not daily to claim the debt of death? Who lent to man in Paradise the money of sin, but by the multiplying of wickedness is daily exacting it with usury?
Concerning this exactor, Truth saith in the Gospel, And the Judge deliver thee to the officer [V. ‘exactori’]. [Luke 12, 58] Therefore the voice of this exactor is the tempting of persuasion to our hurt. And we hear the voice of the exactor, when we are smitten with his temptation, but we do not bear it effectually [exaudimus] if we resist the hand that smites, for he ‘hears’ that feels the temptation, but he hears effectually who yields to the temptation. So let it be said of the righteous, They have not heard the voice of the exactor; for though they hear his
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prompting in that they are tempted, they do not hear it effectually, for that they take shame to yield thereto, but because whatsoever the mind loves with great affection, it is often repeating even in utterance of the lips; blessed Job, in that he views the crowds of inward peace with fulness of affection, again employs himself about the description [al. the distinguishing of them] of it, saying, Ver. 19. The small and great are there; the servant is free from his master.
70. Forasmuch as there is to us in this life a difference in works, doubtless there will be in the future life a difference in degrees of dignity, that whereas here one surpasses another in desert, there one may excel another in reward. Hence Truth says in the Gospel, In My Father's house are many mansions. [John 14, 2] But in those ‘many mansions,’ the very diversity of rewards will be in some measure in harmony. For an influence so mighty joins us together in that peace, that what any has failed to receive in himself, he rejoices to have received in another. And thus they that did not equally labour in the vineyard, equally obtain all of them a penny. And indeed with the Father are ‘many mansions,’ and yet the unequal labourers receive the same penny, in that the blessedness of joy will be one and the same to all, yet not one and the same sublimity of life to all. He had seen the small and great in this light, who said in the voice of the Head; Thine eyes did see My substance, yet being imperfect, and in Thy book were all My members written. [Ps. 139, 16] He beheld ‘the small and the great together,’ when he declared, He will bless them that fear the Lord, both small and great. [Ps. 115, 13] And it is well added, And the servant is free from his master. For it is written, Everyone that sinneth is the servant of sin [John 8, 34]. For whosoever yields himself up to bad desire, submits the neck of his mind, till now free, to the dominion of wickedness. Now we withstand this master, when we struggle against the evil whereby we had been taken captive, when we forcibly resist the bad habit, and treading under all froward desires, maintain against the same the right of inborn liberty, when we strike our sin by penitence, and cleanse the stains of pollution with our tears. But it oftentimes happens, that the mind indeed already bewails what it remembers itself to have done amiss, that already it not only forsakes its misdeeds, but even chastises them with the bitterest lamentations, yet while it recalls to memory the things that it has done, it is affrighted and sorely dismayed against the Judgment. It already turns itself with a perfect intention, but does not yet lift itself up in a perfect state of security, for while it weighs the rigid exactness of the final scrutiny, it trembles with anxiety between hope and fear, for it knows not, when the righteous Judge comes, what He will reckon, what He will remit of the deeds done. For it remembers what evil deeds it has committed, but it cannot tell whether it has worthily bewailed the commission of them, and it dreads lest the vastness of the sin exceed the measure of penance. And it is very often the case that ‘Truth’ already remits the sin, yet the troubled soul, whilst it is full of anxiety for itself, still trembles for the pardon thereof. So that in this present life the servant already escapes from his master, yet he is not free from him, in that by chastisement and penance man already forsakes his sin, yet he still fears the strict Judge for the recompensing of it. There then ‘the servant will be free from his master,’ when there will be no longer misgiving about the pardon of sin, when the recollection of its sin no longer condemns the soul, now secured, where the conscience does not tremble under a sense of guilt, but exults in the pardon of the same in a state of freedom.
72. But if man is reached there by no remembrance of his sin, how does he congratulate himself that he has been saved therefrom? Or how does he return thanks to his Benefactor for the pardon, which he has received, if by an intervening forgetfulness of his past wickedness, he knows not that he is a debtor to suffer punishment? For we must not pass over negligently that which the Psalmist
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says, I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever. [Ps. 89, 1] For how does he ‘sing of the mercies of God for ever,’ if he knows not that he has been miserable; and if he has no recollection of past misery, whence does he answer with praises the bestowal of mercy? And again, we must enquire how the mind of the Elect can be in perfect bliss, if amidst its joys the memory of its guilt reaches it? Or how does the glory of indefectible light shine out, when it is overcast by the sin that is recalled to mind? But be it known, that just as oftentimes now in joy we call to mind sad things, so in the future life, we bring back the memory of past sin without any hurt to our bliss. For it very often happens, that in the season of health, we recall to mind past pains without feeling pain, and in proportion as we remember ourselves sick, the more we hug ourselves in health. And so in that blissful estate there will be a remembrance of sin, not such as to pollute the mind, but to attach us the more closely to our joy, that while the mind without pain remembers itself of its pain, it may the more clearly perceive itself to be a debtor to the physician, and so much the more cherish the health it has received, in proportion as it remembers what it has escaped of uneasiness. And so then, placed in that state of bliss, we so regard our evil deeds without loathing, as now being set in light, without any inward blindness of the heart, we see the darkness with our mind; for though that be dim which we perceive with the imagination, this comes from the sentence of light, not from the misfortune of blindness. And thus throughout eternity we render to our Benefactor the praise of His mercy, yet are in no degree oppressed with the consciousness of wretchedness; for whilst we review our evils without any evil betiding the mind, on the one hand there will never be ought to defile, the hearts that render praise on the score of past wickednesses, and again there will always be somewhat to inflame them to the praise of their Deliverer. Therefore, because the repose of inward light does in such sort transport the great ones into itself, that yet it does not leave the little ones, let it be rightly said, the small and great are there. Now forasmuch as the mind of the converted sinner is there touched by the recollection of his sin in such sort that he is not overwhelmed by any confusion at that recollection, it is fitly subjoined, And the servant is free from his master.
BOOK V.
He explains the remainder of chap. iii. from ver. 20. the whole of chap. iv. and the first two verses of chap. v.
[i]
1. THOUGH the appointments of God are very much hidden from sight, why it is that in this life it is sometimes ill with the good and well with the wicked, yet they are then still more mysterious when it both goes well with the good here below, and ill with the wicked. For when it goes ill with the good, and well with the bad, this perhaps is found to be for that both the good, if they have done wrong in any thing, receive punishment here that they may be more completely freed from eternal damnation, and the wicked meet here with the good things, which conduce to this life, that they may he dragged to unmitigated torments hereafter. And hence these words are spoken to the rich man, when burning in hell, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things. [Luke 16, 25] But when it is well with the good here and ill with the wicked, it is very doubtfu1, whether the good for this reason receive good things, that they may be
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set forward and advance to something better, or whether by a just and secret appointment they receive here the reward of their deeds, that they may prove void of the rewards of the life to come; and whether afflictions for this reason come upon the wicked, in order that by correcting, they may be the means of preserving them from everlasting punishments, or whether their punishment only begins here, that, one day to receive completion, it should lead to the final torments of hell. Therefore, because in the midst of the divine appointments the human mind is closed in by the great darkness of its uncertainty, holy men, when they see this world's prosperity to be their lot, are disquieted with fearful misgivings. For they fear lest they should receive here the fruits of their labours. They fear lest Divine Justice should see in them a secret wound, and in loading them with external blessings should withhold them from the interior. But when they exactly consider, that they never do good saving that they may please God only, nor triumph in the very exuberance of their prosperity, then indeed they less fear hidden judgments to their hurt in their good fortune, yet they ill endure that good fortune, in that it impedes the interior purpose of the heart, and they reluctantly submit to the caresses of this present life, forasmuch as they are not ignorant that they are in some degree retarded thereby in their interior longing. For honour in this world is more engrossing than the contempt thereof, and the rise of prosperity weighs upon them more than the pressure of a hard necessity. For sometimes when a man is outwardly straitened by the latter, he is the more entirely set at liberty to fix his desire upon the interior good; but by the other the mind, while forced to yield to the will of many, is kept back from the race of its own desire. And hence it is that holy men are in greater dread of prosperity in this world than of adversity. For they know that while the mind is under soft and beguiling impressions, it is sometimes apt to give itself up to be drawn away after external objects. They know that oftentimes the secret thought of the heart so beguiles it, that it does not see how it is changed. And they consider too, what the eternal blessings are which they desire, and they see what a mere nothing all is that courts and smiles upon us after the manner of things temporal, and their mind bears the worse all the prosperity of this world, in proportion as it is pierced with love of heavenly happiness; and it is planted so much the more erect in contempt of the delightfulness of the present life, the more it perceives that this is beguiling it by stealth in the disregard of eternal glory. Hence when blessed Job, having his eye fixed upon the rest above, had said, The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master. He therefore adds,
Ver. 20. Wherefore is light given to one that is in misery?
[ii]
2. In holy Scripture prosperity is sometimes represented by the title of light, and this world's adversity by the name of night. Hence it is well said by the Psalmist, As is its darkness, so also is its light. [Ps 139, 12. Vulg. ] For as holy men thus trample upon the prosperity of this state by contemning it, as also they sustain its adverse fortune by trampling upon it, by an exceeding highmindedness laying under their feet alike the good and the ill of the world, they declare, As its darkness, so also is its light. As though they said in plain words, ‘as its griefs do not force down the resoluteness of our fixed mind, so neither can its caresses corrupt the same. ’ But since these last, as we have said above, though they fail to lift up the mind of the righteous, do yet cause them disquietude; holy men, who know themselves to be in misery in this wearisome exile, shrink from shining in its prosperity. Hence it is well said at this time, Wherefore is light given to one that is in misery? for ‘light is given to those in misery,’ when they, who, by contemplating things above, see themselves to be in misery in this our pilgrimage, have the brightness of transitory prosperity
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bestowed upon them; and when they are deploring grievously, that they are slow in returning to their country, they are over and above constrained to bear the burthen of honours. The love of eternal things is crushing them, and at the same time the glory of temporal things smiles upon them. When these reflect what the things are, which keep them down below, and what those are that they see not of the things above, what those are that set them up on earth, and what they have lost of heavenly blessings, they are stung with regret of their prosperity. For though they see that they are never wholly overwhelmed thereby, yet they anxiously consider that their thoughts are divided between the love of God, and the gifts of His hand; and hence when he says, Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery? he subjoins forthwith,
And life unto the bitter in soul?
[iii]
3. For all the Elect are bitter in soul, in that either they never cease to punish themselves by weeping for the transgressions they have committed, or they afflict themselves with regrets, that banished here far from the face of their Creator, they are not yet admitted to the bliss of the eternal country; and of their hearts it is well said by Solomon, The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger shall not intermeddle with his joy. For the hearts of the reprobate are likewise in bitterness, for that they are afflicted even by their very bad passions themselves. Yet they know not of this very bitterness, because having voluntarily blinded their own eyes, they cannot estimate what they are undergoing; but on the contrary the heart of a good man knoweth its own bitterness, for it knows the hard condition of this place of exile, wherein it is cast forth to be torn in pieces; and it sees how tranquil is all that it has lost, how troubled the condition it has fallen into. Yet this embittered heart is one day brought back to its own joy, and a stranger shall not intermeddle therewith, in that he, who now casts himself forth without, away from this sorrow of the heart, in his aims, will then remain shut out from its interior festival.
4. They then that are in bitterness of soul, long to be wholly dead to the world, that, as they themselves aim at nothing in this present world, so they may not henceforth be fettered by the world with any ties; and it very often happens that a person has already ceased to retain the world in his affections, but the world still ties down that person by its business, and he indeed is already dead to the world, but the world is not yet dead to him. For in a certain sense the world, still alive, regards [D. ‘desires him’ (as below)] him, so long as it strives to carry him away in its actions, when he is bent another way. Hence, since Paul both himself utterly contemned the world, and saw that he was become such an one as this world could not possibly desire, having burst the bonds of this life, and being henceforth at liberty, he rightly exclaims, The world is crucified to me, and I unto the world. For ‘the world was crucified to him,’ because being now dead to his affections it was no longer an object of love to him; and he had likewise ‘crucified himself to the world,’ in that he studied to shew himself thereto in such a light, that, as though dead, he might never be coveted by it. For if there be a dead person, and one alive in the same place, though the dead sees not the living, yet the living person does see the dead, but if both are dead, neither can possibly see the other. Thus he, who no longer loves the world, but yet even against his will is loved by the world, though he himself being as it were dead sees nothing of the world, yet the world not being dead sees him; but if he neither himself retains the world in his affections, nor again is retained in the affections of the world, then both are mutually dead to one another; in that whereas neither seeks the other, it is as if the dead heeded not the dead. Therefore, because Paul neither sought the glory
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of the world, nor was himself sought out by the same, he glories both in being himself crucified to the world, and in the world being crucified to him. Now because there are many that desire this, who yet do not altogether rise up to the very extreme point of such a state of deadness, they may well lament and say; Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul. For ‘life is given to those in bitterness,’ when the glory of this world is bestowed upon the sad and sorrowful, in which same life they do not spare themselves the chastening of most urgent fear; for though they do not themselves hold to the world, yet they still dread being such as the world holds to; and except they were living to it in some slight degree, it would never surely love them for their serviceableness to its interests; just as the sea keeps living bodies in her own bosom, but dead ones she forthwith casts out from herself. It proceeds;
Ver. 21. Which long for death, but it cometh not. [iv]
5. For they desire to mortify themselves wholly, and to be entirely extinct of the life of temporal glory, but by the secret appointments of God they are often forced either to take the lead in command, or to busy themselves with dignities imposed on them, and in these circumstances they unceasingly look for a perfect mortification, but this expected death cometh not; in that the use of them is still alive to temporal glory even against their will, though they submit to that glory from the fear of God, and while they inwardly retain their aim after piety, they outwardly discharge the functions of their station, that they should neither quit their perfection in their inward purpose, nor set themselves against the dispensations of their Creator in a spirit of pride. For by a marvellous pitifulness of the Divine Nature it comes to pass, that, when he, who aims at contemplation with a perfect heart, is busied with human affairs, his perfect mind at once profits many that are weaker, and in whatever degree he sees himself to be imperfect, he rises therefrom more perfect to the crowning point of humility. For sometimes by the very same means, whereby holy men suffer loss in their own longings, they bear off the larger profits by the conversion of others, for, while it is not permitted them to give themselves thereto as they desire, it is their grateful office to carry off along with themselves others, whom they are associated with. And so it is effected by a wonderful dispensation of pity, that by the same means, whereby they seem to themselves to be the more undone [destructiores], they rise with richer resources to the building up [constructionem] of their heavenly Country.
6. Now sometimes they fail to attain the desires, that they have conceived, for this reason, that by the very interposing of the delay, they may be made to expand to the same objects with an enlarged embrace of the mind, and by a striking dispensation it is effected that that, which if fulfilled might perhaps become thin and poor, being kept back, gains growth. For they desire so to mortify themselves that, if it may be vouchsafed, they may already perfectly behold the face of their Creator, but their desire is delayed that it may gain increase, and it is fostered in the bosom of its slow advancement that it may grow larger. Hence the Bride, panting with desire of her Bridegroom, justly cries out, By night on my bed I sought him, whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. [Cant. 3, 1] The Spouse hides himself when He is sought, that not being found He may be sought for with the more ardent affection, and she in seeking is withheld, that she cannot find Him, in order that being rendered of larger capacity by the delay she undergoes, she may one day find a thousandfold what she sought. Hence when blessed Job said, Which long for
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death, but it cometh not; that he might the more minutely particularize this very desire of those seekers, he thereupon adds;
And dig for it as for hid treasures.
[v]
7. For all men that seek for a treasure by digging, the deeper they have begun to go, kindle to the work with the greater energy; for in the same proportion that they reckon themselves to be now, at this moment, approaching the buried treasure, they strive with increased efforts in digging for it. They, then, that perfectly desire the mortification of themselves, seek it as they that dig for hid treasures, for the nearer they are brought to their object, the more ardent they shew themselves in the work. Therefore they never flag in their labour, but increase the more in the exercise thereof; for that in the degree, that they reckon on their reward as now nearer at hand, they spend themselves the more gladly in the work. Hence Paul says well to some, that were seeking the hid treasure of the eternal inheritance, Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together as the manner of some is; but consoling [V. consolantes] one another, and so much the more as ye see the day approaching. [Heb. 10, 25] For to give consolation to the labourer, is to continue labouring in like manner to him, the sight of a fellow labourer being the alleviation of our own labour, as, when a companion joins us in a journey, the way itself is not shortened, yet the toilsomeness of the way is alleviated by the society of a companion. Therefore, whereas Paul looked for their consoling one another in their labours, he added these words, and so much the more as ye see the day approaching. As though he said, ‘let your labour increase the more, that now the reward of your labour itself is nigh at hand. ’ As if he expressed himself in plain words, ‘Do ye seek a treasure? Then ye should dig for it with the greater ardour, that ye have by digging reached by this time close to the gold ye were in quest of. ’
8. Though this, that he says, Which long for death and it cometh not; and dig for it as for hid treasures, may be taken in another sense also. For in that we cannot perfectly die to the world, unless we bury ourselves within the invisible depths of our own heart from all things visible, they that long for the mortifying of themselves, are well compared to those that dig for a treasure. For we die to the world by means of an unseen wisdom, of which it is said by Solomon, If thou seekest her as silver, and diggest for her as for hid treasures. [Prov. 2, 4] Since wisdom lieth not on the surface of things, for it is deep in the unseen. And we then lay hold on the mortification of ourselves, in attaining wisdom, if, relinquishing visible things, we bury ourselves in the invisible; if we so seek for her in the digging of the heart, that every imagination, which the mind conceives, of an earthly nature, she puts from her with the hand of holy discernment, and acquaints herself with the treasure of virtue which was hidden from her. For she soon finds a treasure in herself, if she thrust from her that heap of earthly thoughts, which lay as a wretched load upon her. Now because he describes death coveted as a treasure, he rightly subjoins;
Ver. 22. Which rejoice exceedingly and are glad, when they can find the grave.
[vi]
9. For as the grave is that place wherein the body is buried, so heavenly contemplation is a kind of spiritual grave wherein the soul is buried. For in a certain sense we still live to this world, when in spirit we roam abroad therein. But we are buried in the grave as dead, when being mortified in
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things without, we secrete ourselves in the depths of interior contemplation. And therefore holy men never cease to mortify themselves with the sword of the sacred Word to the importunate calls of earthly desires, to the throng of unprofitable cares, and to the din of obstreperous tumults, and they bury themselves within before God's presence in the bosom of the mind. Hence it is well said by the Psalmist, And Thou shalt hide them in the secret of Thy presence from the strife of tongues. [Ps. 31, 20] Which though it be not until afterwards fully brought to pass, is yet even now in a great measure accomplished, when with the feeling of delight they are caught away into the inward parts from the strife of temporal desires, so that, whilst their mind wholly expands in every part to the love of God, it is not rent and torn by any useless anxiety. Hence it is that Paul had seen those disciples as dead, and as it were buried in the grave by contemplation, to whom he said, Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. [Col. 3, 3] He, then, that seeks for death rejoices when he finds the grave; for whoso desires to mortify himself, is exceeding joyful on finding the rest of contemplation; that being dead to the world he may lie hid, and bury himself in the bosom of interior love from all the disquietudes of external things.
10. But since in addition to this, that he speaks of a treasure being dug up, the finding of a grave is further introduced, it is needful that our mind's eye should keep this in view, that the ancients buried their dead with their wealth. He, then, that seeks for a treasure, ‘rejoices when he has found the grave,’ in that when we, in quest of wisdom, turn the pages of Holy Writ, when we trace out the examples of those that have gone before us, we as it were derive joy from the grave, for we find the mind's wealth among the dead, who, because they [several Mss. ‘for they who. ’] are perfectly dead to this world, rest in secret with their riches beside them. And so he is made rich by the grave, who, following the example of the righteous, is raised up in the excellency of contemplation. But when he asks, saying, Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery? he intimates the reason for which he ventures to put such a question, by saying,
Ver. 23. Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath encompassed with darkness?
[vii]
11. For ‘man's way is hid to him,’ in that though he already takes cognizance of the kind [qualitate] of life that he is leading, he does not yet know to what issue it tends. Though his affections are now fixed on things above, though he seeks them with all his longings, he is yet ignorant whether he shall persevere in the same longings. For forsaking our sins we strive after righteousness, and we know whence we are come, but we know nothing whereunto we may arrive. We know what we were yesterday, but we cannot tell what we may chance to be to-morrow. ‘Man's way then is hid to him,’ in that he so sets the foot of his labour, that, this notwithstanding, he can never foresee the issue of the accomplishment thereof.
12. Now there is also another ‘hiding of our way. ’ For there are times when we are ignorant, whether the very things which we believe we do aright, are rightly done in the strict Judge's eye. For, as we have also said a long way above, it often happens that an action of ours, which is cause for our condemnation, passes with us for the aggrandizement of virtue. Often by the same act, whereby we think to appease the Judge, He is urged to anger, when favourable. As Solomon bears witness, saying, There is a way which seemeth right unto a man; but the end thereof are the ways of death. [Prov. 14, 12] Hence, whilst holy men are getting the mastery over their evil habits, their
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very good practices even become an object of dread to them, lest, when they desire to do a good action, they be decoyed by a semblance of the thing, lest the baleful canker of corruption lurk under the fair appearance of a goodly colour. For they know that they are still charged with the burthen of corruption, and cannot exactly discern the things that be good. And when they bring before their eyes the standard of the final Judgment, there are times when they fear the very things which they approve in themselves; and indeed they are in mind wholly intent on the concerns of the interior, yet alarmed from uncertainty about their doings, they know not whither they are going. Hence after he had said, Wherefore is light given to one that is in misery? it is with propriety added, to a man whose way is hid? As though the words were, ‘Why has that man this life's success for his portion, who knows not of his course of conduct, in what esteem it is held by his Judge. And it is rightly subjoined, And whom God hath encompassed with darkness. For man is ‘encompassed with darkness,’ since howsoever he may burn with heavenly longings, he is ignorant how it goes with him in the interior. And he is in great fear lest aught concerning himself should meet him in the Judgment, which is now hidden from himself in the aspirations of holy fervour. ‘Man is encompassed with darkness,’ in that he is closed in by the clouds of his own ignorance. Is not that man ‘encompassed with darkness,’ who most often neither remembers the past, nor finds out the future, and scarce knows the present? That wise man had seen himself to be encompassed with darkness, when he said, And with labour do we find the things that are before us; but the things that are in heaven who shall search out? [Wisd. 9, 16]
The Prophet beheld himself ‘encompassed with’ such ‘darkness,’ when he was unable to discover the interior springs of His inmost economy, saying, He made darkness His secret place. [Ps. 18, 11] For the Author of our being, in that, when we were cast out into this place of exile, He took from us the light of His vision, buried Himself from our eyes as it were ‘in the secret place of darkness. ’
13. Now as often as we attentively regard this same darkness of our blind estate, we stir up the mind to lamentation. For it weeps for the state of blindness, which it is under without, if it remember in humility that it is bereft of light in the interior, and when it looks to the darkness which surrounds it, it is wrung with ardent longing for the inward brightness, and rent with thought's whole effort, and that light above, which as soon as created it relinquished, now debarred, it makes the object of its search. Whence it very often happens that that radiance of inward joy bursts out amidst those very tears of piety; and that the mind, which had lain torpid in a state of blindness, being fed with sighs, receives strength to gaze at the interior brightness. Whence it rightly proceeds,
Ver. 24. For my sighing cometh before I eat. [viii]
14. For the soul's ‘eating’ is its being fed with the contemplations of the light above, and thus it sighs before it eats, in that it first travails with the groanings of sorrow, and afterwards is replenished with the cheer of contemplation. For except it sigh, it eats not, in that he that refuses to humble himself, in this exile we are in, by the groanings of heavenly desires, never tastes the delights of the eternal inheritance. For all they are starved of the food of truth, that take joy in the emptiness of this scene of our pilgrimage, but he ‘sighs,’ that ‘eats,’ because all who are touched with the love of truth, are at the same time fed with the refreshments of contemplation.