No More Learning

149, 5]; 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
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sickness. [Ps. 41, 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 understand 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 every sin before our eyes. They bethink themselves what the shame of that is, to be confounded in the sight of the whole human race, of all the Angels and the Archangels. They reflect what agony is in store after that confounding, when 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 be eased talking with myself on my couch; then Thou scarest 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 of my heart, there, whilst Thou dost set me to [A. B. D. ‘teach me’] the contemplation 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 return 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.
[LITERAL INTERPRETATION]
42. But lest anyone should be at pains to make out these words after the literal sense, it is of great importance to find out in how many ways the mind is affected by images from dreams. For sometimes dreams are engendered of fulness or emptiness of the belly, sometimes of illusion, sometimes of illusion and thought combined, sometimes of revelation, while sometimes they are engendered of imagination, thought, and revelation together. Now the two which we have named first, we all know by experience, while the four subjoined we find in the pages of Holy Writ. For except dreams were very frequently caused to come in illusion by our secret enemy, the Wise Man would never have pointed this out by saying, For dreams and vain illusions have deceived many, [Ecclus. 34, 7] or indeed, Nor shall ye use enchantments, nor observe dreams. [Lev. 19, 26. Vulg. ] By which words it is shewn us how great an abomination they are, in that they are joined with ‘auguries. ’ Again, excepting they sometimes came of thought and illusion together, Solomon would never have said, For a dream cometh through the multitude of business. [Eccl. 5, 3] And unless dreams sometimes had their origin in a mystery of a revelation, Joseph would never have seen himself in a dream appointed to be advanced above his brethren, nor would the espoused of Mary have been warned by the Angel in a dream to take the Child and to fly into Egypt. Again, unless dreams sometimes proceeded from thought and revelation together, the Prophet Daniel, in making out the vision of Nebuchadnezzar, would never have set out with thought as the root; As for thee, O king, thy thoughts came into thy mind upon thy bed, what should come to pass hereafter,
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and He That revealeth secrets maketh known to thee what shall come to pass. [Dan. 2, 29] And soon afterwards, Thou, O king, sawest and beheld a great image. This great image, that was great, and its stature lofty, stood before thee, &c. [ver. 31] Thus while Daniel declares in awful terms the dream about to be fulfilled, and shews in what thoughts it had its rise, it is made plain and manifest that the thing very frequently proceeds from thought and revelation combined.
43. Now it is clear, that since dreams shift about in such a variety of cases they ought to be the less easily believed, in proportion as it less easily appears from what influencing cause they spring. For it often happens that to those, whom the Evil Spirit cuts off when awake through the love of the present life, he promises the successes of fortune even whilst they sleep, and those, whom he sees to be in dread of misfortunes, he threatens with them the more cruelly by the representations of dreams, that he may work upon the incautious soul by a different kind of influence, and either by elevating it with hope or sinking it with dread, may disturb its balance. Often too he sets himself to work upon the souls of the Saints themselves by dreams, that at least for a passing moment they may be thrown off the line of steady thought, though by their own act they straightway shake the mind clear of the delusive phantasy. And our designing foe, in proportion as he is utterly unable to get the better of them when awake, makes the deadlier assault upon them asleep. Whom yet the dispensation of the Highest in loving-kindness alone allows to do so in his malevolence, lest in the souls of the Elect their mere sleep, though nothing else, should go without the meed of suffering. Therefore it is well spoken to Him that ruleth over all, When I say, my bed shall comfort me, I shall be eased talking with myself on my couch; then Thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions. Surely in that God ordereth all things wonderfully, even He Himself doth that thing, which the Evil Spirit seeks to do unjustly, whilst He letteth it not be done saving justly. Now forasmuch as the life of the righteous is at once assaulted on watch by temptation, and harassed in dreaming by illusion; undergoes without the mischiefs of its corruption, and within painfully carries in itself unlawful thoughts; what may it do in order to pluck the foot of the heart out of the mazes of such numberless entanglements? Yea, thou blessed man, with what dismay and trouble thou art every way compassed about we have learnt; now let us be informed, what plan thou dost devise to encounter the same. It goes on,
Ver. 15. So that my soul chooseth hanging and my bones death. [xxv]
[MORAL INTERPRETATION]
44. What is then represented by the soul but the bent of the soul, and by the bones, the strength of the flesh? Now every thing that is hung is assuredly lifted up from things beneath; therefore ‘the soul chooseth hanging that the bones may die,’ in that whilst the mind's intent lifts itself on high, it extinguishes all the strength of the exterior life in itself. For the Saints know it for a most certain truth, that they can never enjoy rest in the present life, and so they ‘choose hanging,’ in that quitting earthly objects of desire, they raise the mind on high. But whilst hung on high they inflict death on their bones, in that for love of the land above, having their loins girt in press and pursuit after virtuous attainments, all wherein they were afore time strong in the world, they load with the chain of self-abasement. It is well to mark how Paul had his soul suspended aloft, who said, Nevertheless I live: yet not I, but Christ liveth in me. [Gal. 2, 20] And again; Having a desire to depart and to be with Christ. [Phil. 1, 23] And, For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. [ver. 21] Who
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recalling to mind the achievements of earthly strength, reckoned up as it were so many bones in himself, saying, An Hebrew, of the Hebrews, as touching the Law a Pharisee; concerning zeal, persecuting the Church of God. [Phil. 3, 5. 6. ] But by that ‘hanging’ of his soul, how that he does to death these bones in himself, he immediately declares, in that he adds, But what things were gain to me, these I counted loss for Christ. [ver. 7] Which same bones he implies were still more mercilessly dealt with to destruction in himself, when he adds, For whom I have made all things loss, and do count them but dung. [ver. 8] But in what manner he hung without life and his bones all dead, he shews, in that he adds in that place, saying, That I may win Christ, and be found in Him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Jesus Christ. [ver. 9] But whereas by bringing together his declarations we have avouched Paul to have been suspended aloft dead to the world, let us now shew whether blessed Job, being filled with the same Spirit, eschews the concupiscence of the exterior life. It goes on,
Ver. 16. I have given over hope, I will not live any longer. [xxvi]
45. There be some of the righteous, who so entertain the desire of heavenly things, that, notwithstanding this, they are not broken off from the hope of things earthly. The inheritance bestowed on them by God they keep for the supply of necessities, the honours awarded them on a temporal footing they retain; they do not covet the things of others, they make a lawful use of their own. Yet these are strangers to those same things that they have, in that they are not bound in affection to those very goods which they keep in their possession. And there are some of the righteous, who bracing themselves up to lay hold of the very height of perfection, whilst they aim at higher objects within, abandon all things without, who bare themselves of the goods possessed by them, strip themselves of the pride of honours, who by continuance in a grateful sorrow affect their hearts with longing for the things of the interior, refuse to receive consolation from those that are exterior, who whilst in spirit they drink of the inward joys, wholly extinguish in themselves the life of corporeal enjoyment. For it is said by Paul to such as these, For ye are dead, and your life it hid with Christ in God. [Col. 3, 3] The Psalmist spoke in their voice, when he said, My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord. [Ps. 84, 2] For they ‘long’ but do not ‘faint,’ who are already imbued indeed with heavenly desires, but notwithstanding are still not tired of the enjoyments of earthly objects. But he ‘longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord,’ who whilst he desires the eternal world, doth not hold on in the love of the temporal. Hence the Psalmist saith again, My soul fainteth for Thy salvation. [Ps. 119, 81] Hence ‘Truth’ bids us by His own lips, saying, If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself. [Luke 9, 23] And again; Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot he My disciple. [Luke 14, 33] Thus the holy man, his soul parted from earthly objects of desire, sets himself in the number of such as those, when he saith, I have given over hope, I will not live any longer. Since for a righteous man ‘to give over hope’ is to quit the good things of the present life, in making choice of eternity, and to put no trust in temporal possessions. And whilst doing this, he declares that he ‘will not live any longer,’ in that by a quickening death he is daily killing himself to the life of passion [f]. For be it far from us to think that the holy man should despair of the bountifulness of God's mercy, that he should withdraw the step of the heart from advancing in the interior way, that forsaking the love of the Creator he should as it were stop on the road lacking a guide, and pierced with the sword of rifling despair, be brought to ruin. But lest we seem violently to wrest his sayings according to the caprice of our own view, we ought to form our estimate of what is
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promised by that which follows after. For in what sense he said this, he does himself immediately point out, in that he adds,
Spare me, O Lord, [g] for my days are nothing.
[xxvii]
46. For neither do the two words agree together, I have given over hope, and, spare me. For he that ‘gives over hope,’ no longer begs to be spared; and he who is still anxious to be spared, is surely far from ‘giving over hope. ’ It is on one sort of grounds then that he ‘gives over hope,’ and on another that the holy man prays to be spared; in that whilst he abandons the good things of this transitory life in ‘giving over the hope’ thereof, he rises more vigorous in hope for the securing of those that shall endure. So that in ‘giving over hope,’ he is the more effectually brought to the hope of pardon, who seeks the things to come so much the more determinately, in proportion as he more thoroughly forsakes those of the present time in giving up hope. And we are to take notice, that when teaching us the strength of his heart, he delivered indeed but one sentiment about himself, but in teaching it to us he has repeated it a third time. For what he had said above, My soul chooseth hanging, it was in repeating this, that he added the words, I have given over hope, and in aiming at the blessings of eternity, and putting behind those of time, he last of all brought in this, Spare me. And what he said above, And my bones death, this same it was that he added, I will not live longer, and this he delivered to end with, for my days are nothing. But he lightly considers that his ‘days are nothing,’ because as we have often remarked already a little above, holy men, the more thoroughly they are acquainted with things above, in the same proportion they look down upon the things of earth from a loftier height. And therefore they see that the days of the present life are ‘nothing,’ because they have the eyes of their illumined soul fixed in the contemplation of eternity. And when they return thence to themselves, what do they find themselves to be but dust? And being conscious of their frailty, they are in dread of being judged with severity; and when they regard the force of that vast Energy, they tremble to have it put to the test what they are. And
hence it is further added with propriety,
V er. 17. What is man, that Thou shouldest magnify him? and that Thou shouldest set Thine heart upon him?
[xxviii] [LITERAL INTERPRETATION]
47. God magnifieth man, in that He enriches him with the bountiful gift of reason, visits him with the inspiration of grace, exalts him with the greatness of imparted virtue; and whereas he is nothing in himself, yet through the bounty of His lovingkindness He vouchsafes to him to be a partaker of the knowledge of Himself. And the Lord ‘setteth His heart upon man’ so magnified, in that after His gifts He brings forth judgment, weighs merits with exactness, rigidly tries the weights of life, and exacts punishment from him afterwards the more strictly, in proportion as He prevents him here more bounteously by the benefit bestowed. So then let the holy man view the immensity of the Supreme Majesty, and recall the eye of reflection to his own frailty. Let him see that flesh cannot comprehend that which Truth through the Spirit teaches concerning Himself. Let him see that man's spirit, even when it is lifted up, is not able to bear the Judgment, which God holds over it, on a trial of strict recompensing, and let him say, What is man, that Thou shouldest magnify him? and that Thou shouldest set Thine heart upon him? As though he cried out in plain words, saying, ‘Man is magnified with a spiritual gift, but yet he is flesh, and after Thy gifts, Thou takest strict
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account of his ways; yet if he be judged with pity set aside, the weight that rests over him from Thine exactness, not even the spirit that is raised to righteousness has strength to sustain, seeing that though Thy gifts draw him out beyond his own compass, yet at the inquest of Thy strict scrutiny his own frailty contracts him. ’ And hence it is fitly added still further;
Ver. 18. And that Thou shouldest visit him in the dawn, and try him suddenly?
[xxix]
48. Which is there of us that does not know that it is called the ‘dawn,’ when the night season is now changing into the brightness of light? so we too are closed in by the darkness of night, when we are dimmed by the practice of wickedness; but the night is turned into light, when the darkness of our erring state is illuminated by knowledge of the Truth. The night is turned into light, when the splendour of righteousness lights up our hearts, which the blindness of sin lay heavy upon. This dawn Paul saw rise in the minds of the disciples, when he said, The night is far spent, the day is at hand. [Rom. 13, 12] And so the Lord ‘visits us at the dawn,’ in that He illumines the darkness of our state of error with the light of the knowledge of Himself, uplifts us with the gift of contemplation, exalts us to the stronghold of virtue. But it is to be observed, that after God ‘visits him at the dawn,’ He ‘tries man suddenly,’ in that both in drawing near He advances our souls to virtuous heights, and in withdrawing Himself He suffers them to be assaulted with temptation. For if after the bestowal of the gifts of virtue, she is never moved by any assault of temptation, the soul boasts that she has these of herself. Therefore that she may at one and the same time enjoy the gifts of a firm state, and humbly acknowledge her own state of infirmity, by the visitation of grace she is lifted up on high, and by the withdrawal of the same, it is proved what she is in herself. Which is well intimated to us in the history of the book of sacred reading, wherein Solomon is recorded both to have received wisdom from on high, and yet directly after that very wisdom was received, to have been assailed by the disputing of the harlots. [1 Kings 3, 16, &c. ] For immediately after he had received the grace of that great enlightenment, he was exposed to the strife of base women; for that oftentimes when the visiting of the interior bounty illuminates our mind with virtues vouchsafed it, even filthy imaginations forthwith disorder it, that the soul, which being lifted up exults in the immensity of the gift, being at the same time struck by temptation, may discover what she is. So Elijah both being visited at the dawn, opened the doors of heaven by a word, and yet being ‘tried suddenly,’ fleeing helpless through the desert, was in dread of a single woman. [1 Kings 19, 3] Thus Paul is carried to the third heaven, and penetrating into the secrets of Paradise, he is held in contemplation; and yet when he returns to himself, travails against the assaults of the flesh, and is subject to another law in his members, by whose rebellion within him he grieves to see the law of the Spirit hard bestead. [2 Cor. 12, 2] Therefore God ‘visits at the dawn,’ but, after this visiting, He ‘tries suddenly,’ in that He both lifts up by the gift vouchsafed, and by the same being for a while withdrawn, shews unaided [ipsum] man to himself. Which doubtless we are so long subject to, until the time, when the pollution of sin being clean taken away, we be renewed to the substance of promised incorruption. Hence it is fitly added yet further,
Ver. 19. How long wilt Thou not depart from me, nor let me alone until I swallow down my spittle.
[xxx]
49. The spittle runs into the mouth from the head, but from the mouth it is carried into the belly by being swallowed. And what is our head saving the Deity, through Whom we derive the original of our being, so as to be ‘creature,’ as Paul bears witness, who declares, The head of every man is
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Christ, and the head of Christ is God; and what is our belly, saving the mind, which, whilst it takes its food, i. e. heavenly perception, being invigorated, doth surely rule the members of the several actions. For except Holy Writ did sometimes describe the mind by the name of ‘the belly,’ Solomon surely would never have said, The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord, searching all the inward parts of the belly; [Prov. 20, 27] forasmuch as whilst the grace of heavenly visitation illumines us, it discloses even all the depths of the mind that are hidden from our sight. What then is meant by the term ‘spittle,’ but the savour of interior contemplation, which runs down from the head to the mouth, in that issuing from the brightness of the Creator, whilst we are still set in this life, it but just touches us with a taste of revelation. And hence the Redeemer at His coming mixed the spittle with clay, and restored the eyes of him that was born blind, [John 9, 6] in that heavenly grace enlightens the carnal bent of our hearts, by a mixture of the contemplation of Itself, and from his original blindness restores man anew to perception. For whereas nature henceforth brought him forth in this place of exile, since he was banished from all the joys of Paradise, man was produced from his birth, as it were, without eyes. But, as the holy man teaches, this spittle runs into the mouth indeed, but that it should not reach into the belly, it is not swallowed down, in that the contemplation of the Divine Being grazes the sense, but does not perfectly refresh the mind, because the soul is unable perfectly to behold what as yet, the mist of corruption impeding the view, it sees by a hasty glimpse.
50. For see how the soul of the Elect already bears down all earthly desires beneath itself, already mounts above all the objects that it sees are of a nature to pass away, is already lifted up from the enjoyment of external delights, and closely searches what are the invisible good things, and in doing the same is carried away into the sweetness of heavenly contemplation; already very often it sees something of the interior world as it were through the mist, and with burning desire strives to the utmost to be admitted to the spiritual ministries of the Angels, feeds on the taste of the Light Incomprehensible, and being carried out of self disdains to sink back again into self; for forasmuch as the body, which is in the way to corruption, still weighs down the soul, it has not power to attach itself to the Light for long, which it sees in a momentary glimpse. For the mere infirmity of the flesh by itself drags down the soul, as it mounts above itself, and brings it down, as it aspires, to provide for low cares and wants. And so spittle flowing from the head touches the mouth, but never reaches to the belly; in that our understanding indeed is henceforth watered with the dews of heavenly contemplation, but the soul is not at all fully satisfied. For in the mouth is the taste, but fulness in the belly; and so we cannot ‘swallow down our spittle,’ in that we are not suffered to fill ourselves with the excellency of heavenly brightness, which we taste as yet but in a sip. But whereas this very same that we are already in some slight degree made acquainted with above us, comes from the pitifulness of One that spareth, while that we cannot as yet obtain a perfect perception of it is of the punishment of the old curse still, it is rightly said now, How long dost Thou not spare me, nor let me alone, till I swallow down my spittle? As if it were in plain words; ‘Then Thou dost perfectly spare man, when Thou admittest Him to the perfect measure of the contemplation of Thee; that being transported he may behold Thy brightness in the interior, and no corruption of his flesh without should hold him back. Then ‘thou lettest me alone till I swallow down my spittle, when Thou replenishest me with the savour of Thy brightness even to the very overflow of fulness, that I should never henceforth go a hungered, with but a taste of the mouth, through lack of food, but be stedfastly stayed in Thee, the belly of my interior being watered. ’ But whoso would obtain the good that he desires must acknowledge the evil that he has done. The account goes on.
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Ver. 20. I have sinned; what shall I do unto Thee, O Thou Preserver of men? [xxxi]
51. Observe how he confesses the ill that he has done, but the good that he should present to God in compensation, he no where can find, in that all virtue whatever of human practice is without power to wash out the guilt of sin, except His mercifulness in sparing foster it, and not His justice in judging press hard upon it. Whence it is well said by the Psalmist, Because Thy mercy is better than the life; [Ps. 63, 3] in that howsoever innocent it may seem to be, yet with the strict Judge our life doth not set us free, if the lovingkindness of His mercy loose not to it the debt of its guilt. Or indeed when it is said, What shall I do unto Thee? it is plainly, shewn us that those very good things, which we are commanded to practise, are not a gain to Him that imposes the command, but to ourselves. Whence it is said again by the Psalmist, My goodness extendeth not unto Thee. [Ps. 16, 2] Now the abjectness of our destitution is set forth, when God is called the ‘Preserver of men,’ in that if His preserving hand defend us not in the face of the snares of the secret adversary, the eye of our heedfulness sleeps on watch, as the Psalmist again bears record, who saith, Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. [Ps. 127, 1] For it is through ourselves, that we have been brought to the ground, but to rise again by our own strength is beyond our ability. The fault of our own will laid us low once, but the punishment of our fault sinks us worse day by day. We strive by the efforts of our earnest endeavours, to lift ourselves to the uprightness we have lost, but we are kept down by the weight of our just dues. And hence it is fitly added, Why hast Thou set me opposite to Thee, so that I am a burthen to myself?
[xxxii]
52. Then did God ‘set man opposite to Him,’ when man forsook God by sinning. For being taken captive by the persuasions of the Serpent, he became the enemy of Him, Whose precepts he despised. But the righteous Creator ‘set man opposite to Himself,’ in that He accounted him an enemy by pride. And this very oppositeness of sin is itself made a weight of punishment to man, that he being wrongly free, might serve his own corruption, who while serving rightly exulted in the freedom of incorruption. For quitting the healthful stronghold of humility, he was brought by growing proud to the yoke of infirmity, and in erecting only bowed down the neck of the heart, in that he who refused to submit to the behests of God, prostrated himself beneath his own necessities; which we shall shew the better, if we set forth those burthens, first of the flesh and afterwards of the spirit, which he is made subject to after being cast down to the ground.
53. For to say nothing of this, that he is liable to pains, that he gasps with fever; the very state of our body, which is called health, is straitened by its own sickness. For it wastes with idleness, it faints with work; failing with not eating, it is refreshed by food so as to hold up; going heavily with sustenance, it is relieved by abstinence, so as to be vigorous; it is bathed in water, not to be dry; it is wiped with towels, not by that very bathing to be too wet; it is enlivened by labour, that it may not be dulled by repose; it is refreshed by repose, that it faint not under the exertion of labour; worn with watching, it is recruited by sleep; oppressed with sleep, it is roused to activity by watching, lest it be worse wearied by its own rest; it is covered with clothing, lest it be pierced by the hardship of cold; fainting under the heat it sought, it is invigorated by the blowing of the air. And whereas it meets with annoyances from the very quarter whence it sought to shelter itself from
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annoyances, being badly wounded, so to say, it sickens by its own cure. Therefore fevers set aside and pains not in action, our very breath itself is sickness, whereunto there is never wanting the necessity of administering a cure. Since whatever the comforts we seek out for occasion of life, we as it were meet with so many medicines of our sickness; but the very medicine itself too is turned into a sore, in that attaching ourselves a little too long to the remedy we sought, we are more brought down in that which we prudently provide for our refreshment. Thus was presumption to be amended, thus was pride to be laid low. For whereas we once took to us a high spirit, so every day we carry the mud that runneth down.
54.
Our very mind too itself being banished from the secure delight of interior secresy, is now beguiled by hope, now tormented by fear; one while cast down by grief, at another time made light by a false mirth; it obstinately attaches itself to transitory objects, and is continually afflicted by the loss of them, in that it is also continually undergoing change by a course that carries it away; and being made subject to things changeable, it is also made to be at odds with its own self. For seeking what it has not got, it anxiously obtains it, and so soon as it has begun to possess the same, is sick of having obtained what it sought after. Oftentimes it loves what it once despised, and despises what, it used to love. It learns by dint of pains what are the things of eternity, but it forgets them in a moment, if it cease to take pains. It takes a long time to seek, that it may find, but a little concerning the things above, but speedily falling, back into its wonted ways, not even for a little space does it hold on in the things it has found. Desiring to be instructed, with difficulty it gets the better of its ignorance, and being so instructed it has a harder contest against the pride of knowledge; with difficulty it subjects to itself the usurping power of its fleshly part, yet it is still subject to the images of sin within, the works whereof it has already in vanquishing bound down without. It raises itself in quest of its Creator, but being thrown back, it is bewildered by the beguiling mist of corporeal attachments [h]. It desires to survey itself, and to see how being incorporeal it bears rule over the body, and it cannot. It asks in a wonderful way what it is unable to answer itself, and remaining ignorant is at a loss under that, which it inquires with a wise purpose. Viewing itself as large and scanty at once, it knows nothing how to form a true estimate of itself, in that if it were not large it would not be seeking matters of so deep enquiry, and again if it were not little, it would at least find that which it asks of itself.
55. Well therefore is it said, Thou hast set me opposite to Thee, so that I am a burthen to myself, in that whilst man being banished is both subject to annoyances in the flesh, and to perplexities in the mind, surely he carries about his own self as a grievous burthen. On every side he is beset with sicknesses, on every side he is hard bestead with infirmities, that he who, having abandoned God, thought to suffice to himself for his repose, might find nought in himself but a turmoil of disquietude, and might try to fly from himself so found, but having set his Creator at nought, might not have where to fly. The burthens of which state of infirmity that wise man rightly regarding, exclaims, An heavy yoke is upon the Sons of Adam, from the day that they go out of their mother's womb, till the day that they return to the mother of all things. [Ecclus. 40, 1] But blessed Job regarding these things, and seeking with groans wherefore they were so ordered, does not reproach justice, but interrogates mercy; that in asking he may himself in self-abasement deal a blow to that, which the Divine pity might in sparing alter. As if he said in plain words; ‘Wherefore dost Thou despise man set as in opposition to Thee, Who, I am assured, wouldest not that even he should perish whom Thou art thought to despise? ’ Whence he proceeds in a right way both to express humility in confession, and to subjoin the voice of free inquiry in the words,
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Ver. 21. And why dost Thou not take away my transgression, and remove mine iniquity?
[xxxiii]
56. By which same words, what else is intimated but the desire of the expected Mediator, concerning Whom John saith, Behold the Lamb of God, Which taketh away the sin of the world. [John 1, 29] Or rather sin is then completely taken away from mankind, when our corruption is changed in the glory of incorruption. For we can never be free from sin so long as we are held fast in a body of mortality, and therefore he longs for the grace of the Redeemer, i. e. for the wholeness [soliditatem] of the Resurrection, who is looking to have his iniquity entirely ‘taken away. ’ Hence immediately after adding both the punishment which was his due by birth, and the Judgment which he dreads in consequence of his own doings, he proceeds,
For now shall I sleep in the dust, and if Thou shalt seek me in the morning, I shall not abide.
[xxxiv]
57. It was said to the first man on his sinning, Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. [Gen. 3, 19] Now by the ‘morning,’ is meant that manifestation of souls, which, when the thoughts are laid bare at the coming of the Judge, is as it were brought to light after the darkness of night. Of which same morning, it is said by the Psalmist, In the morning I shall stand before Thee and shall see [i]. [Ps. 5, 3. Vulg. ] Now God's ‘seeking’ is His searching man with a minute inquest, and, in searching, judging him with rigorous strictness. Therefore let blessed Job, surveying the miseries of man's fallen condition, see how that he is both already closely pressed by a present punishment, and in yet worse plight as concerns the future, and let him say, For now shall I sleep in the dust, and if Thou shalt seek me in the morning, I shall not abide. As if he openly lamented, saying, ‘In the present life indeed I already undergo the death of the flesh, and yet still further from the Judgment to come I dread a worse death, even the doom of Thy severity. I suffer destruction for sin, yet further on coming to Judgment I dread my sins being brought up again even after my dissolution. Therefore looking at the external death, let him say, For now shall I sleep in the dust, and dreading the interior let him add, And if Thou shalt seek me in the morning, I shall not abide. For however strong in righteousness, even the very Elect by no means suffice to themselves for innocency, if they be strictly examined in Judgment. But they find it now for an alleviation of their withdrawal hence, that they know in their humility that they never can suffice. Therefore they shelter themselves under the covering of humility from the sword of such a grievous visitation, and in proportion as awaiting the terribleness of the Judge to come, they tremble with continual alarm, so there is an unceasing progress in their becoming better prepared. It goes on,
C. viii. 1, 2. Then answered Bildad, the Shuhite, and said, How long wilt thou speak these things? and how long shall the breath [V. so. ] of the words of thy mouth be multiplied?
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58. To the unrighteous the words of the righteous are ever grievous, and such as they hear spoken for edification, they bear as a burthen put upon them. As Bildad, the Shuhite, plainly indicates in his own case, when he says, How long wilt thou speak these things? For he that says how long, shews that he cannot any longer bear words of edification. But whereas unfair men are too proud to be set right, they find fault with the things that are spoken well; and hence he immediately adds,
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And how long shall the breath of the words of thy mouth be multiplied? When multiplicity is blamed in the speech, surely it is thereby denied that there is weight of meaning in the sense. For the power of speakers on the highest matters is distinguished by a fourfold quality. For there be some whom fulness in speaking and thinking combined give width and compass, and there be some whom meagreness both of thought and utterance reduces to small dimensions; and there are some who are furnished with ability in speaking, but not with penetration in thinking; and there are some, who have penetration of thought to support them, but from barrenness of expression are made silent. For we discover the same in man that we often see in things without sense. Thus it very often happens that both an abundant supply of water is obtained from the deep of the earth, and that it is conveyed by ample channels upon the surface; and very often a scanty quantity lies concealed in the heart of the earth, and hardly finding a crevice to issue by, strains itself out in scanty dimensions without. Very often too the smallest quantity springs up out of reach of the eye, and when it finds an outlet gaping wide whereby it may issue forth from an ample opening, it swells out in a thin stream, and the big channels open themselves wide, but there is not aught for them to pour forth; and very often an ample store springs up out of sight, but being confined by narrow channels, it dribbles out in the smallest quantities. Just so in one sort the ample mouth delivers what the copious fountain of the wit supplies; in another, neither does thought furnish sense, nor the tongue pour it forth. In others, the mouth indeed is wide to speak, but for the giving out that which thought has provided for it, the tongue gets nothing at all; whilst in others, a full fountain of thought abounds in the heart, but a disproportionate tongue, like a scanty channel, confines it. In which same four sorts of speaking, the third only is obnoxious to blame, which appropriates to itself by words that, to the level whereof it doth not rise in wit. For the first is worthy of praise, in that it is powerful and strong in both particulars. The second deserves commiseration, which in its littleness lacks both. The fourth calls for aid, in that it has not power to embody what it thinks. But the third is worthy to be despised and ought to be restrained, in that while it lifts itself high in speech it is grovelling in sense; and like limbs swoln with inflation, it goes forth to the ears of the hearers big but void. And it is this which Bildad hurls as an accusation against blessed Job, saying, And how long shall the words of the breath of thy mouth be multiplied? For he that attributes multiplicity of words to the mouth, doubtless finds fault with the barrenness of the heart. As if he said in plain words, ‘Thou art raised by abundance of breath in word of mouth, but thou art stinted by scantiness of sense. ’ But when bad men blame right things, lest they should themselves appear not to know what is righteous, the good things that are known of all men, and which they have learnt by hearsay, they deliver as unknown. And hence Bildad adds directly,
Ver. 3. Doth God pervert judgment? Or doth the Almighty pervert justice?
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59. These things blessed Job had neither in speaking denied, nor yet was ignorant of them in holding his tongue. But all bold persons, as we have said, speak with big words even well known truths, that in telling of them they may appear to be learned. They scorn to hold their peace in a spirit of modesty, lest they should be thought to be silent from ignorance. But it is to be known that they then extol the rectitude of God's justice, when security from ill uplifts themselves in joy, while blows are dealt to other men; when they see themselves enjoying prosperity in their affairs, and others harassed with adversity. For whilst they do wickedly, and yet believe themselves righteous, the benefit of prosperity attending them, they imagine to be due to their own merits; and they infer that God does not visit unjustly, in proportion as upon themselves, as being righteous, no cloud of
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misfortune falls. But if the power of correction from above touch their life but in the least degree, being struck they directly break loose against the policy of the Divine inquest, which a little while before, unharmed, they made much of in expressing admiration of it, and they deny that judgment to be just, which is at odds with their own ways; they canvass the equity of God's dealings, they fly out in words of contradiction, and being chastened because they have done wrong, they do worse. Hence it is well spoken by the Psalmist against the confession of the sinner, He will confess to Thee, when Thou doest well to him. [Ps. 49, 18] For the voice of confession is disregarded, when it is shaped by the joyfulness of prosperity. But that confession alone possesses merit of much weight, which the force of pain has no power to part from the truth of the rule of right, and which adversity, the test of the heart, sharpens out even to the sentence of the lips. Therefore it is no wonder that Bildad commends the justice of God, in that he experiences no hurt therefrom.
[ALLEGORICAL INTERPRETATION]
60. Now whereas we have said that the friends of blessed Job bear the likeness of heretics, it is well for us to point out briefly, how the words of Bildad accord with the wheedling ways of heretics. For whilst in their own idea they see Holy Church corrected with temporal visitations, they swell the bolder in the bigness of their perverted preaching, and putting forward the righteousness of the Divine probation, they maintain that they prosper by virtue of their merits; but they avouch that she is rewarded with deserved chastisements, and thereupon without delay they seek by beguiling words a way to steal upon her, in the midst of her sorrows, and they strike a blow at the lives of some, by making the deaths of others a reproach, as if those were now visited with deserved death, who refused to hold worthy opinions concerning God. Hence Bildad the Shuhite, after he pleaded the justice of God, thereupon adds,
Ver. 4-6. Even if thy children have sinned against Him, and He have left them in the hand of their transgression; yet if thou wilt seek to God at dawn, and make thy supplication to the Almighty; if thou wilt walk pure and upright; surely now He will awake for thee, and make the habitation of thy righteousness at peace.
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61. As if the preachers of falsities were to say to afflicted Catholics, ‘Provide for your lives, and learn what wrong things ye maintain from the condemnation of those that are dead from among you. For except your misbelief were displeasing to the Creator of all things, He would never take from you such numbers [k] by destruction let loose to rage against them. ’ For he says, If thy children have sinned against Him, and He have left them in the hand of their transgression. As though he said in plain speech, ‘They are left in the hand of their own wickedness, that refused to follow the life of our right rule. ’ Yet if thou wilt arise to God at dawn, and make thy supplication to the Almighty. For inasmuch as heretics think that the light of truth rests with themselves, they bid and summon Holy Church, as being in the night of error, to come to the dawning of the truth, that in the knowledge of God it may be led to rise, as in the dawning light, and by the prayer of penitence wash off past misdeeds. If thou wilt walk pure and upright; that is to say, pure in thought, upright in practice. Surely now He will awake for thee. As if it were in plain words, ‘that He, Who now forbears to put forth the power of His protecting hand to thy tribulations, is as if asleep to the succouring of one going wrong. ’ And make the habitation of thy righteousness at peace, i. e. ‘does away with the crosses of the present life, and vouchsafes without delay security in
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repose. ’ For because men that are bad reckon temporal enjoyment as a special blessing of Divine recompensing, what they themselves go after with solicitous concern, they promise to others as something great. Hence it very often happens that they either pledge themselves to regain them when lost, or draw on the minds of their hearers after still greater rewards of this world. Which Bildad openly expresses, when he adds upon that,
Ver. 7. Insomuch that though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end shall greatly increase.
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62. But if it is counsel within the soul that he calls ‘the habitation of righteousness,’ the leaders of false opinions promise afflicted Catholics ‘the habitation of their righteousness at peace,’ in that if they draw them to their own views, then indeed they hold their peace from opposition. For those who have let themselves be drawn into that which is wrong, are the more lulled to rest in temporal peace, in proportion as they are parted the wider from eternal peace. Moreover they promise that the riches of understanding shall be increased to all that follow them. And hence it is added, Insomuch that though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end shalt greatly increase. Then because they do not easily obtain credit to their words, in that their life is often shewn to be worthy of contempt, they put forward the opinions of the Fathers of old, and turn the right line they take into a proof of their own erring way, Hence it is added, .
Ver. 8. For inquire, I pray thee, of the former age, and diligently search into the memory of the fathers.
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63. They give us notice that ‘the former generation’ and ‘the memory of the fathers’ are not seen but ‘searched,’ because they will not have that to be seen therein, which lies open before the eyes of all men. But sometimes, like good men, they give some instruction of a moral kind, and shew how the present may be gathered from the past; and from the things which are even now withdrawn from our eyes by passing away, they shew how little there is in the things that are seen before our eyes. Whence it is yet further added,
Ver. 9. For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are but a shadow.
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64. And so the generation of old is set before us to be inquired of, that the period of the present life may be shewn to pass away like a shadow; in this way, that if we recall to mind the things that have been and are now over, we clearly see how swiftly that also will be gone which we have in our hands. But it often happens that heretics go along with us in extolling the same fathers whom we venerate; but their sense being perverted, they strike at us by those very commendations of them. Hence it is yet further added,
Ver. 10. Shall not they teach thee, and tell thee, and utter words out of their heart? [xli]
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65. We must mark what he had said before, And the inspiration [‘spiritus,’ as before] of the words of thy mouth is multiplied. But now when the fathers are brought to mind, he says, They shall utter words out of their heart. As though heretics abhorring the life of Holy Church said, ‘Thou hast abundance of inspiration in thy mouth, in thy heart thou hast none of it. But they are to be heard in opposition, who, in uttering words from the heart, have taught the right thing by living like it. ’ But oftentimes the wicked, whereas the evil of their own crookedness is unknown to them, boldly pull in pieces the uprightness of others, and while they usurp to themselves authority of pronouncing rebukes against good men, they either deliver those good sentiments, which they have imbibed not by seeing but by hearing them, or else with lying lips lay that evil to the charge of others, which they are themselves guilty of committing. But when they give utterance to good thoughts, which they scorn to observe, it is to be remarked that very frequently Truth so speaks by the lips of her adversaries, that in putting their tongue in motion it smites their life. So that in telling of the highest perfection of righteousness while they know nothing of it, they themselves are rendered at once both judges by their words and accusers by their deeds.
[HISTORICAL INTERPRETATON]
Hence Bildad subjoins words of wondrous truth against hypocrites, but he is running himself through with the point of his discourse. For unless he were himself in some slight degree a pretender of righteousness, he would never venture to teach a good man with so much temerity. And indeed they are words of singular force that he speaks, but they ought to have been addressed to fools, not to a wise man; to the wicked, not to a good person; in that he proclaims himself no less than insane, who, when the gardens are parched, pours water into the river. But in the mean time, laying aside the question to whom the thing is said, let us weigh well and minutely what it is that is said, that the sentiments delivered may edify ourselves, even though they assail the character of their Author. It goes on,
Ver. 11. Can the rush grow up without moisture? can the flag grow without water? [MORAL INTERPRETATION]
To whom Bildad compares ‘the rush’ and ‘the flag,’ he himself immediately discloses, when he adds;
Ver. 12, 13. Whilst it is yet in his greenness, and not cut down, it withereth before any other herb. So are the paths of all that forget God, and the hypocrite's hope shall perish.
66. So that by the name of ‘a rush’ or ‘a flag,’ he denotes the life of the hypocrite, which has an appearance of greenness, but has no fruit of usefulness for the services of man, which continuing dry in barrenness of practice, is green with only the colour of sanctity alone. But neither does a rush grow without moisture, nor a flag without water, in that the life of hypocrites receives indeed the infused grace of the heavenly gift for the doing of good works, but in whatsoever it does seeking praises without, it proves void of fruit of the infused grace vouchsafed it. For they often perform wonderful deeds of miraculous power, they expel demons from bodies possessed, and by the gift of prophecy, by knowing anticipate things to come, yet they are separated from the Giver of so many blessings in the bent of the thought of their heart. For through His gifts they seek not His glory, but their own applause. And whereas by the benefits vouchsafed them they raise themselves in their own praise, they are assailing their Benefactor with the very gifts of His bounty. For they
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behave themselves proudly against Him that gave them, from the very circumstance whereby they should have been rendered the more thoroughly humble towards Him. But a judgment the more unsparing smites them hereafter, in proportion as heavenly Goodness now pours upon them even in their ingratitude the dew of His blessing in larger measure. And the fulness of the gift turns to the increase of condemnation to them, because when they are watered they bear no fruit, but under a hue of green rear themselves on high in barrenness. These ‘Truth’ well describes in the Gospel, saying, Many shall say to Me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy Name? and in Thy Name have cast out devils? and in Thy Name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you; Depart from Me, ye that work iniquity. [Matt. 7, 22. 23. ]
Thus neither the rush nor the flag lives without water, because hypocrites do not take the greenness of good works, save by gift from above; but because they appropriate it to the use of their own applause, they grow green indeed in the water, but barren.
67. Now it is well added, Whilst it is yet in his flower, nor plucked with the hand, it withereth before any other herb. ‘The rush in his flower’ is the hypocrite in esteem. Now the rush springing up with sharp edges is not plucked with the hand, in that the hypocrite, having his feelings sharpened by presumption, disdains to be rebuked for his wickedness. In his flower he gashes the hand that plucketh him, in that the hypocrite in the midst of applause, that no one may dare to rebuke him, by his cutting tongue wounds the life of the rebuker without delay. For he desires not to be holy, but to be called holy; and when he may chance to be rebuked, it is as if he were lopped off in the full bloom of his reputation. He is enraged to be found out in his wickedness, he forbids the man that brings his guilt home to him to address him, in that he is as it were pained by being touched in a secret wound. Such as he was known to the ignorant, he would wish to be accounted of all men, and readier to lay down his life than to be reprimanded, he is made worse by censure, because he accounts the word of disinterested goodness as the dart of deadly smiting. Hence in exasperated passion he directly rises in abuse, and looks about for all the evil he can rake together against the life of his rebuker. He longs to prove him beyond all comparison guilty, that he may make himself out innocent, not by his own doings, but by the guilt of others; so that often the person repents that he has uttered a word of censure, and that just as from the hand of one plucking any thing, so from the mind of the person chiding, there runs out as it were the blood of sorrow, if I may say so. Hence it is well said by Solomon, Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee. For it is not proper for the good man to fear, lest the scorner should utter abuse at him when he is chidden; but lest being drawn into hatred, he should be made worse.
68. And here it is necessary to be known, that the excellencies of good men, as they begin from the heart, go on increasing to the very end of the present life; but the practices of hypocrites, seeing that they are not rooted in secret, often come to nought before the present life is ended. For very frequently they devote themselves to the study of sacred scholarship, and because they prosecute it not for providing a store of merits, but for procuring commendations, the moment that they get hold of the sentence of human applause, and thereby secure the boon of transitory success, they give themselves with all their heart to worldly concerns, and are completely emptied of sacred scholarship, and by their way of acting afterwards, they shew how much they love the things of time, who before only had those of eternity alone on their lips. But it is very often the case that they exhibit an appearance of maturity put on, they shew fair by the composure of silence, by the forbearance of long suffering, by the virtue of continence; but when by means of these they have reached the height of the honour that they aimed at, and when respect is henceforth bestowed on
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them by all men, they immediately begin to let themselves out in wantonness of self-gratification, and they are their own witnesses against themselves that they held none of their good derived from the heart, in that they parted with it so soon.
But sometimes there are persons found who give all they possess, and lavish all their goods upon the needy, yet before the end of their life, inflamed with the itch of avarice, they covet the goods of others, who seemed to be giving their own with a lavish hand; and afterwards with determined cruelty they go after that, which they had given up before with pretended piety. And hence it is rightly said in this place, Whilst it is yet in his flower, and not yet plucked with the hand, it withereth before any other herb. For as to their fleshly part even the righteous are herbs, as the Prophet bears witness, who saith, All flesh is grass. But ‘the rush’ is said to ‘wither before all other herbs;’ in that while the righteous continue in their goodness, the life of hypocrites is dried up from the greenness of assumed uprightness. Even the rest of the herbs wither, because the deeds of the righteous come to an end together with the life of the flesh. But the ‘rush’ precedes the withering of the herbs, for before the hypocrite passes out of the flesh, he gives over the deeds of virtuous habits which he had manifested in himself. Concerning which same it is also well said by the Psalmist, Let them be as the grass upon the housetop, which withereth afore it be plucked up. [Ps. 129, 6] For ‘the grass upon the housetop’ springeth up aloft, but it is never set firm with a rich soil, forasmuch as the hypocrite is seen practising the highest acts, but he is not stablished therein in purity of intention. Which same grass even when not plucked up soon withereth, for this reason, that the hypocrite at one and the same time still exists in the present life, and yet already parts with the practices of holiness as with the appearance of greenness. For because he went about to do good works without the purpose of a right heart, by losing these he shews that he flourished without a root.
69. But as we have before said, who he is to whom Bildad likens ‘a rush’ or ‘a flag,’ he makes plain at the moment, where he adds, So are the paths of all that forget God, and the hypocrite's hope shall perish. For what does the hypocrite hope for from all his deeds, saving the observance of honour, the reputation of applause, to be feared by his betters, to be called a Saint by all men? But the hope of the hypocrite can never endure, for, from not making eternity his aim, he hastes away from all that he holds in his hand.