[LITERAL AND ALLEGORICAL INTERPRETATION]
1.
WE have already in the preceding book considered the point, that blessed
Job is making known to us the force of his humility, when he says,
Ver.
27. Yea ye overwhelm the fatherless, and ye strive to overthrow your
friend.
For
he shews what great weakness he considers himself to be of, who calls
himself ‘fatherless.’ But because charity even when wounded cannot quit
love, he at once complains that they would have him overthrown, and yet
witnesses that he is their friend. Whose words, as we have often said
already, in such wise specially apply to himself, that yet by them, in the
Spirit of Prophecy, we have at the same time set forth the sentiment [‘sententia.’
see l. xxiii. § 31] of the faithful People, in the voice of the Church
Universal. Which same People, while encountering the opposition of
heretics, both regards itself as weak in humility, and yet never abandons
the greatness of keeping love entire, For the People of Holy Church, as it
is the child of a dead Father, is not unfitly called ‘fatherless,’ in that
henceforth indeed through faith it follows His life of Resurrection, but
does not as yet see Him by His appearing. Now heretics ‘overwhelm the
fatherless,’ when they bear hard upon the lowliness of the faithful People,
by clamorous and false charges, and yet he is a ‘friend,’ whom they set
themselves to ‘overthrow,’ in that God's faithful People never cease with
loving affection to call to the Truth, the very persons whom they suffer as
persecutors. But herein it is necessary to be known, that holy men neither
dread from weakness to be exposed to falsehoods, nor in being harmed ever
hold their peace as to the Truth. Whence it is added;
Ver.
28. But fulfil what ye have begun; give ear, and see if I lie.
[ii]
2.
For because he does not fear to endure adversities, let him say, But
fulfil what ye have begun; and because he does not withhold the
announcements of the Truth from his very persecutors themselves, let him
add, Give ear, and see if I lie. As if he said in plain words,
‘Neither do I tremble at the mischiefs done me before, nor do I withhold the
succours of correction from ungrateful hearers, in that I both have exercise
through being driven to straits by misfortune, and gain increase by being
kindly devoted to my very persecutors themselves.’ For the mind of the
Saints, in this war of temptations, being at once defended by the shield of
patience, and begirt with the swords of love, obtains resolution for the
enduring of bad treatment, and puts forth kindness in the recompensing good,
so as both to receive stoutly the weapons of enmities, and return forcibly
the darts of love. For he does not in any way go armed to the wars, who
either taking a shield, uses no swords, or using swords, is not protected by
a shield. And hence the soldier of God, encountered by a war of adversity,
ought both to hold before him the shield of patience, lest he perish, and
being prompt to preach he should launch the darts of love, that he may win
the victory. The sum of which armour Paul briefly informs us of, saying,
Charity suffereth long, and is kind. [1 Cor. 13, 4] But when one of
either is wanting, charity is not, i.e. if bearing with the wicked without
kindness, he has no love; or again if shewing himself without patience, he
neglect to bear with the wicked whom he loves. Therefore that true charity
may be retained by us, it must needs be that both patience support kindness,
and again kindness support patience, that building up a large edifice as it
were in our breast, both patience may give strength to the tower of
kindness, and kindness give grace to the firmly founded edifices of
patience. Therefore let blessed Job, as being prompt to patience, say,
But fulfil what ye have begun; and as endued with kindness let him add,
Give ear, and see I lie,
[iii]
3.
But because Holy Church, being well trained in the school of humility, does
not enjoin as by authority the right instructions which she delivers to
those that be gone astray, but wins acceptance for them by reason, it is
well said in this place, See if I lie. As though it were in plain
words, ‘In all that I declare, give no credence to me upon grounds of
authority, but consider on grounds of reason whether they be true. And if
at any time she says what cannot be comprehended by reason, she reasonably
advises that human reasoning should not be looked for in hidden truths.’
But it often happens that heretics, when they meet with opportunity for
reasoning, give themselves a loose in the brawlings of strife. Hence it is
immediately subjoined with propriety,
Ver.
29. Answer, I pray you, without strife.
4.
For neither do heretics try to attain truth by their investigations, but to
appear to be the winners; and whereas they desire to shew for wise without,
they are bound within in their foolishness with the chains of their own
pride; hence it comes to pass that they look out for contests of rivalry,
and concerning God, Who is our Peace, they know not how to speak with
peaceableness, and by the article of peace they become contrivers of
strife. To whom it is well spoken by Paul, But if any man seem to be
contentious, we have no such custom, neither the Churches of God. [1
Cor. 11, 16] Now it is rightly added,
And
speaking that which is just, judge ye.
[iv]
5.
For everyone that speaks, whilst he waits for his hearer's sentence upon his
words, is as it were subjected to the judgment of him, by whom he is heard.
Accordingly he that fears to be condemned in respect of his words, ought
first to put to the test that which he delivers; that there may be a kind of
impartial and sober umpire sitting between the heart and the tongue,
weighing with exactness whether the heart presents right words, which the
tongue taking up with advantage may bring forward for the hearer's
judgment. Therefore let blessed Job, while managing his own case against
his friends, yet telling our proceedings against heretics, blame
precipitancy in speakers, and gather words to suit their mind, saying,
And speaking that which is just, judge ye. As if it were in plain
words, ‘If in this, that ye come out to us in the issuing forth of the
tongue, ye would not be found fault with, retain within the balances of
justice, that what is delivered without, may find acceptance by the
weightiness of truth, the more in proportion as the scales of discretion
weigh it well within, and because those put forth a right judgment about the
sayings of others, who are used first to sit in judgment on their own; after
that he had said, speaking that which is just, judge ye, he immediately adds
with propriety,
Ver.
30. And ye shall not find iniquity in my tongue, nor shall foolishness
sound through my jaws.
[v]
6.
As if it were expressed in plain words, ‘The more exactly ye weigh your own
words, the more truly ye estimate those of others, and when what ye say
begins to be right, ye will recognise what ye hear to be just. For my
tongue never sounds of folly to you, unless it be what comes from your own
inward thoughts.’ Thus Holy Church makes it her aim first to prove the
allegations of her enemies to be false, and then to make known the
announcements of the truth, for so long as they reckon themselves to hold
right notions, they obstinately assail the right things that they hear.
Therefore it is necessary beforehand that heretics should feel their error,
lest they gainsay the truth when it is heard. For neither if the tiller of
the soil neglect to root up the briars of the field by the cutting of the
share, will the earth bring to a crop the seed received into her bosom; and
'when the physician does not get rid of the corruption, by opening the
wound, healthy flesh never forms in the corrupt spot. First then in
destroying what is bad, let him say, And speaking that which is just,
judge ye; but afterwards in teaching what is right, let him add, And
ye shalt not find iniquity in my tongue, nor shall foolishness sound through
my jaws. Now it is the way with heretics to deliver some things openly,
to hold others in secret, for by the ‘tongue,’ plain speaking is denoted,
but by the ‘jaws [fauces],’ the secret harbouring.
7.
Neither in the tongue then of Holy Church does ‘iniquity resound,’ nor
‘foolishness in her jaws,’ for the things that she proclaims in open
utterance, at the same time she preserves in inward faith; nor does she
teach one thing in public and keep another to herself in secret; but she
both delivers what she thinks by giving utterance to it, and keeps what she
delivers by living accordingly; and whatever is let out belonging to the
feast of heavenly wisdom by the tongue of preaching, she tastes this same by
the jaws of silent expectation. And let blessed Job, both as an individual
member of the whole Church, in telling his own case, and as shewing what is
the heart of all of the Elect, make known all that he feels, that the
testimony of his speech may manifest the uprightness of his mind. It
proceeds,
Chap.
vii. 1. The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
[vi]
[MORAL INTERPRETATION]
8.
In this passage in the old Translation the life of man is not called ‘a
warfare’ at all, but ‘a trial [a],’ yet if the meaning of either word be
regarded, the sound that meets the ear outwardly is different, yet they make
one and the same concordant meaning. For what is represented by the title
of ‘a trial,’ saving our contest with evil spirits? and what by the
designation of ‘a warfare,’ but an exercising against our enemies? So that
trial is itself ‘a warfare,’ in that whilst a man is watching against the
plots of evil spirits, surely he is spending himself under arms for the
fight. But we are to observe that this life of man is not said to have
‘trial,’ but it is described as itself being ‘trial.’ For having of
free will declined from the upright form wherein it was created, and being
made subject to the rottenness of its state of corruption, whilst out of
self it begets mischiefs against self, it henceforth becomes the very thing
it undergoes. For whereas by letting itself down, it relinquished the erect
seat of the interior, what did it find in itself save the shifting of
change? And though it now erect itself thence to seek things on high, it
directly drops down to its own level from the impulse of a slippery
changeableness. It desires to stand up in contemplation, but has not the
strength. It strives to fix firmly the step of thought, but is enfeebled by
the slippings of its frailty. Which same burthens of a changeful lot,
forasmuch as it sought them out of free will, so it bears them against the
will. Man might have possessed his fleshly part in quiet, if created aright
as he was by his Maker, he had been willing to be possessed by Him; but,
whereas he aimed to lift himself up against his Maker, he straightway
experienced in himself insolency from the flesh. Now forasmuch as together
with guilt [b] punishment is also inherited along with it by birth, we are
born with the engrafted evil of a frail nature; and we as it were carry an
enemy along with us, whom we get the better of with toilsome endeavours.
And so the life of man is itself ‘a trial,’ in that it has that springing up
to it from itself, whereby it is liable to be destroyed. And though it is
ever cutting down by the principle of virtue all that it begets in the
principle of frailty, yet it is ever begetting in frailty somewhat to cut
down by virtue.
9.
And so the life of man is in such a way ‘a trial,’ that though we are
henceforth restrained from the commission of sin, yet in our very good works
themselves we are clouded now by the recollection of evil deeds, now by the
mists of self-deception [seductionis], now by the suspension of our
own purpose of mind. Thus one man henceforth restrains the flesh from
excess, and yet he is still subject to images thereof, in that the things,
which he has done willingly, come to mind against his will, and what he
accounted pleasure he bears as punishment. But because he fears to be drawn
again into the conquered evil habit, he restrains his greedy appetite by the
forcible means of a singular abstinence, and by his abstinence his face is
rendered pale; then when paleness is observed in his countenance, his life
is commended as deserving of the reverential regard of his fellow-creatures,
and presently with the words of commendation vainglory enters into the mind
of this man of abstinence, which while the mind having received a shock
cannot get the better of, it seeks to blot from the face the paleness
whereby that entered in, and so it comes to pass that being tied fast with
the knots of infirmity, either in avoiding the paleness of abstinence, it
again dreads to be brought under the dominion of excess, by food, or
subduing by abstinence the impulse to excess, it apprehends its paleness
serving to vainglory. Another man getting the better of the downfall of
pride, henceforth lays hold of the state of humility with all the desire of
his heart, and when he sees people that are full of pride breaking out so
far as to the oppressing of the innocent, being inflamed by the incitement
of zeal, he is forced to lay aside in some degree the thing he determined
on, he displays the force of the side of right, and withstands the
evil-minded not with mildness, but with authority. Whence it is very
commonly the case, that either by pursuit of humility he is led to abandon
zeal for the right, or again by zeal for right he interrupts the pursuit of
humility, which he maintained. And when the authoritativeness of zeal and
lowliness of purpose scarcely admit of being preserved together, the man is
made a stranger to himself in his embarrassment. So that he is in a great
dilemma lest in a deluded mind either pride pass itself off for the high
tone of zeal, or timid inactivity feign itself humility. Another man,
considering how great is the sin of deceit, determines to fortify himself in
the citadel of truth, so that henceforth no false word should proceed out of
his lips, and that he should wholly cut himself off from the sin of lying.
But it very frequently happens that, when the truth is spoken, the life of a
neighbour is borne hard upon; and whilst the person fears to bring injury
upon another, he is brought back, as in an aim of pity, to that evil habit
of deceit which he had for long kept under; and so it comes to pass, that
though wickedness has no place in his mind, yet the shadow of falsehood dims
therein the rays of truth. And hence oftentimes, because when a man is
urged with questions he cannot keep silence, either by telling a falsehood
he slays his own soul, or by speaking the truth bears hard upon the life of
a neighbour. Another man, incited by the love of his Maker, aims by
unintermitted prayer to withhold his mind from all earthly thoughts, and to
place it in safety in the secret deeps of inward repose; but in the very
mounting of his prayer, whilst he is striving to ascend from things below,
he is struck back by the vision of them, and the eye of the mind is
stretched to gaze on the light, but from bodily habit it is dimmed by the
images of earthly things arising. Whence it very often comes to pass, that
the mind of the person so striving, being exhausted by its own weakness,
either giving over prayer, is lulled asleep in sloth, or if it continue long
in prayer, the mist of rising images gathers thick before its eyes.
10.
And so it is well said, The life of man is a trial upon earth, since
there also he met with the guiltiness of a downward course, where he thought
to lay hold on the advancement of an upward one, and the mind is only thrown
into disorder by the same act whereby it strove to arise out of its
disorder, so that it is thrown back upon itself shivered by the very means,
by which it was already getting above itself collected and compacted. This
man being a stranger to instruction in the Divine Law, is kept down by his
ignorance, that he should do nothing for the attaining of salvation. That
man being endued with the knowledge of the Divine Law, while he is delighted
that understanding is vouchsafed to him beyond other men, in that he exults
with a selfish delight, wastes in himself the gift of understanding which he
has received. And in the Judgment he is shewn to light worse than others by
the same thing, whereby he is exhibited brighter than others for a season.
The first, because he is lifted high by no gifts of extraordinary powers,
eschews the more plain path of uprightness too, and as if accounting himself
an alien to the heavenly benefit, does evil things as though with more
security, in proportion as he has never been vouchsafed the high endowments
of the heavenly gift. The other the spirit of Prophecy replenishes, uplifts
to the foreknowledge of events, and shews him things to come as now
present. But whilst oftentimes and in many cases he is lifted above
himself, so that he does really contemplate future events, his mind being
drawn off into self-confidence, fancies that that spirit of Prophecy, which
cannot always be had, is always with him, and when he takes every notion
that he may have for prophecy, because that he ascribes this to himself even
when he has nothing of it, he even loses it in the degree that he might
possess it. And so it comes to pass, that he is brought back in sorrow
behind the standard of other men's merits by the very means, whereby he was
advanced before it in gladness of heart in the esteem of all. And so,
The life of man is a trial upon earth, in that either being a stranger
to extraordinary powers, it is unable to mount to the heavenly prize, or
enriched with spiritual gifts, it is one day ruined the worse by occasion of
its extraordinary powers.
11.
But whereas we have said a little above that ‘a trial’ is the same as ‘a
warfare,’ it is above every thing to be borne in mind, that something more
is signified to us by the title of ‘warfare,’ than by the name of ‘trial.’
For to our apprehension there is this addition made by the expression of ‘a
warfare,’ namely, that by warfare there is made daily progress towards an
end. And whilst the space of warfare goes on increasing in a regular
course, the whole warfare of men [B. & C. ‘of a man’] is at the same time
diminishing. And so, the life of man is a warfare upon earth, in
that, as we have said above, each one of us, while by the accessions of time
he is daily advancing to the end of life, in adding to his life, is making
an end to live. For he looks for the days to come round, but as soon as
they are come for the lengthening of life, they are already taken away from
the amount of life; for while the step of the traveller too is advancing
over the ground in front, what remains of the way is lessening. Thus our
life is ‘a warfare,’ in that in the same degree that it is drawn out to its
enlargement, it is brought to an end, so as not to be. Therefore it is well
said, The life of man is a warfare upon earth; for whilst by the
several periods of time it seeks to gain ground, by that very period which
it adds but in losing, it is made to pass away as it grows. And hence the
very course of a warfare itself is described in the words that are
immediately added,
Are
not his days also like the days of an hireling?
[vii]
12.
The hireling longs for his days to pass the quicker, that he may attain
without delay to the reward of his toil; and so the days of man imbued with
a knowledge of the Truth and of the things of eternity, are justly compared
to ‘the days of an hireling,’ because he reckons the present life to be his
road, not his country, a warfare, not the palm of victory, and he sees that
he is the further from his reward, the more slowly he is drawing near to his
end. Moreover we must bear in mind, that the hireling spends his strength
in labours that belong to others, yet procures for himself a reward that is
his own. Now it is uttered by the Redeemer’s voice, My Kingdom is not of
this world. [John 18, 36] All we, then, who being endued with the hope
of heaven, wear ourselves out with the toiling of the present life, are
busied in the concern of another. For it often happens that we are even
compelled to serve the sons of perdition, that we are constrained to give
back to the world what belongs to the world, and we are spent indeed with
another man's work, yet we receive a reward of our own, and by this, that we
manage uncorruptly the interests of others, we are made to arrive at our
own. In reverse of which, ‘Truth’ saith to certain persons, And if ye
have not been faithful to that which is another man's, who shall give you
that which is your own. [Luke 16, 12] Moreover it is to be remembered,
that an hireling anxiously and heedfully looks to it, that never a day pass
clear of work, and that the expected end of the time should not come empty
for his rewarding. For in his earnestness of labour he sees what he may get
in the season of recompense. Thus when his work advances, his assurance in
the reward is increased, but when the work is at a stand-still, his hope
sickens in respect of the recompense. And hence each of the Elect reckoning
his life as the days of an ‘hireling,’ stretches forward to the reward the
more confident in hope, in proportion as he holds on the more stoutly for
the advancement of labour. He considers what the transitory course of the
present life is, he reckons up the days with their works. He dreads lest
the moments of life should pass void of labour. He rejoices in adversity,
he is recruited with suffering, he is comforted by mourning, in that he sees
himself to be more abundantly recompensed with the rewards of the life to
come, the more thoroughly he devotes himself for the love thereof by daily
deaths. For it is hence that the citizens of the Land above say to the
Creator of it in the words of the Psalmist, Yea, for Thy sake are we
killed all the day long. [Ps 44, 22] Hence Paul says, I die daily,
brethren, for your glory. [1 Cor. 15, 31] Hence he says again, For
the which cause I also suffer these things; but I am not confounded, for I
know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that
which I have committed unto Him against that day. [2 tim. 1, 12]
Therefore holy men for all the labours which they now exercise, while
committing them to ‘Truth,’ already hold so many pledges of their recompense
shut up in the chamber of hope. Yet oppressive heat is now felt under toil,
that one day refreshment may be had in rest. Whence it is rightly added
immediately afterwards,
Ver.
2, 3. As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling
looketh for the end of his work, so am I made to possess months of vanity,
and I have numbered me wearisome nights.
[viii]
13.
Since for ‘a servant to desire the shadow,’ is after the heat of trial and
the sweat of labour to seek the cool of eternal repose. Which shadow that
servant desired, who said, My soul thirsteth for God, the living God;
when shall I come and appear before God? [Ps. 42, 2] And again, Woe
is me that I sojourn in Mesech. [Ps. 120, 5] Who as if after hard toil
retreating from the heat, and seeking a covering that he might attain the
rest of coolness, says again, For I will enter into the place of the
wonderful Tabernacle, even to the house of God. [Ps. 42, 4] Paul panted
to lay hold of this ‘shadow,’ having a desire to depart and to be with
Christ. [Phil. 1, 23] This shadow they had already attained unto in the
fulness of the desire of their hearts, who said, We which have borne the
burthen and heat of the day. [Mat. 20, 12] Now he that is said to
‘desire’ the shadow, is rightly styled ‘a servant,’ in that each one of the
Elect, so long as he is bound fast by the condition of frailty, is held in
under the yoke of corruption, in its exercising dominion over him, as though
under the harrassing effect of heat; which same person, when he is stripped
of corruption, is then made known to himself as free and at rest. And hence
it is well said by Paul also, Because the creature itself also shall be
delivered from the bondage of corruption, into the glorious liberty of the
children of God. [Rom. 8, 21] For the Elect are now, pressed down by
the penalty of a corrupt state, but then they are exalted high by the glory
of an incorrupt. And in the same degree that, relatively to the burthens of
our present constraint, there is nought of liberty now manifested in the
sons of God, relatively to the glory of the liberty to ensue, nought of
servitude will then appear in the servants of God. And so the servile garb
of corruption being cast off, and the nobility of liberty bestowed, the
creature is turned into the gloriousness of the sons of God, in that in
being united to God by the Spirit, it is proved as it were to have
surmounted and overcome this very thing, that it is a created being. Now he
that still ‘desires the shadow’ is ‘a servant,’ in that so long as he is
subject to the heat of temptation, he is bearing on his shoulders the yoke
of a wretched condition, and it is rightly added there, and as an
hireling looks for the reward of his work.
14.
For an hireling, when he looks at the work to be done, at once resigns his
spirit in consequence of the length and burthensomeness of the labour; but
when he recalls his sinking spirit to take thought of the reward of his
work, he immediately sets afresh his vigour of mind for the exercising of
his labour, and what he reckoned a grievous burthen in respect of the work,
he esteems light and easy on the grounds of the recompense. Thus, thus, do
each of the Elect, when they meet with the crosses of this life, when
insults upon their good name, losses in their substance, pains of the body
are brought upon them, reckon the things grievous, which they are tried
with; but when they stretch the eyes of the mind to the view of the heavenly
country, by comparison with their reward they see how light is all they
undergo. For that which is shewn to be altogether insupportable for the
pain, is by forecasting reflection rendered light for the recompense. It is
hence that Paul is always being lifted up bolder than himself against
adversities, in that ‘as an hireling he looketh for the end of his work.’
For he accounts what he undergoes to be a heavy burthen, but he reckons it
light in consideration of the reward. For he does himself declare how great
the burthen is of what he suffers, in that he bears record that he was ‘in
prisons more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in deaths oft,’ &c. who
‘of the Jews five times received folly stripes save one.’ [2 Cor. 11. 23.
&c.] Who was ‘thrice beaten with rods, once stoned, thrice suffered
shipwreck, a night and a day was in the deep of the sea; who endured perils
of waters, of robbers, of his own countrymen, of the heathen, in the city,
in the wilderness, in the sea, among false brethren; ‘who in weariness and
painfulness, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness,’ had labour and toil,
who sustained ‘fights without, within fears,’ who declares himself pressed
down above strength, saying, that we were pressed out of measure, above
strength, insomuch that we were weary even of life. But in what sort he
wiped off him the streams of this hard toil with the towel of his reward, he
himself tells, when he says, For I reckon that the sufferings of this
present time are not worthy to be compared, with the glory to come, which
shall be revealed in us. Thus, ‘as an hireling, he looketh for the end
of his work,’ who while he considers the increase of the reward, reckons it
of no account that he labours well nigh spent. But it is well added, So
am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights have I numbered
me.
15.
For the Elect serve the Creator of things, and yet are often driven to
straits by the want of things; they hold fast in God by love, and yet they
lack the supports of the present life. So they who do not aim at present
objects by their actions, as to the profits of the world, spend ‘months of
vanity.’ Moreover they are subject to ‘wearisome nights,’ in that they bear
the darkness of adversity not only to the extent of want, but oftentimes to
the anguish of the body. For to undergo contempt and want is not hard to
virtuous minds; but when adversity is turned to the paining of the flesh,
then surely wearisomeness is felt from pain. It may also be not unsuitably
interpreted, that each one of the Saints as a hireling spends ‘months of
vanity,’ in that he now already bears the toil, but does not yet hold the
reward; the one he undergoes, the other he looks for; but ‘he numbers him
wearisome nights,’ in that by exercising himself in virtuous habits, he is
accumulating upon his own head the ills of the present life: for if he does
not aim to advance in spirit, he finds the things of the world perchance
less galling to him.
[ALLEGORICAL INTEPRETATION]
16.
Yet, if this sentence be referred to the voice of Holy Church, the meaning
thereof is traced out with a little more particularity. For she herself has
‘months of vanity,’ who in her weak members has to bear earthly actions
running on to nought without the meed of life. She ‘numbers to herself
wearisome nights,’ in that in her strong members she bears manifold
afflictions. For in this life there be some things that are hard, and some
that are empty, and some that are both hard and empty at one and the same
time. For from love of the Creator to be tried with the afflictions of the
present life, is hard indeed, but not empty. For love of the present world
to be dissolved in pleasures, is empty indeed, but not hard. But for the
love of that world, to be exposed to any adversities, is at one and the same
time both empty and laborious, in that the soul is at once ‘afflicted by
adversity, and not replenished with the compensation of the reward. And so
in those who being now placed within the pale of Holy Church, still let
themselves out in the pursuit of their pleasures, and are thenceforth not
enriched with the fruit of good works, she passes ‘months of vanity,’ in
that she spends the periods of life without the gift of the reward. But in
those who, being devoted to everlasting aims, meet with the crosses of this
world, ‘she numbers herself wearisome nights,’ in that she as it were in the
obscurity of the present life undergoes the darkness of woe. But in those
who at one and the same time love this transitory world, and yet are wearied
with its contradiction, she sustains at once ‘days of vanity,’ and
‘wearisome nights,’ in that neither does any recompense coming after reward
their lives, and, yet present affliction straitens them. But it is rightly
that she never says that she has ‘days,’ but ‘months of vanity’ in these.
For by the name of ‘months,’ the sum and total amount of days is
represented, and so by the ‘day,’ we have each individual action set forth:
but by ‘months,’ the conclusion of those actions is implied. But it often
happens that when we do anything in this world, being buoyed up by the eager
intentness of our hope, this particular thing that we are about, we never
think empty; but when we are come to the end of our doings, failing to
obtain the object of our aims, we are grieved that we have been labouring
for emptiness, and so we spend not only days, but likewise ‘months of
vanity,’ in that not in the beginning of our actions, but only at the end,
we bethink ourselves that we have been toiling in earthly practices without
fruit. For when trouble follows upon our actions, it is as if the months of
vanity of our life were brought home to us: in that it is only in the
consummation of our actions that we learn, how vain was all our toil
therein.
17.
But because in the sacred word sometimes ‘night’ is put for ignorance,
according to the testimony of Paul, who saith to his disciples instructed in
the life to come; Ye are all the children of the light, and the children
of the day; we are not of the night, nor of darkness. [1 Thess. 5, 5]
To which words he prefixed, But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that
that day should overtake you as a thief. [ib. 4] In this place the
voice of Holy Church may be understood in the person of those of her
members, who after the darkness of their state of ignorance are brought back
to the love of righteousness, and being enlightened by the rays of truth,
wash out with their tears all that they have done amiss. For every one that
has been enlightened looks back to see how polluted all that was that he
laboured at, in love with the present life. And therefore Holy Church in
the case of these, in whom there is a return to life, compares her toils to
‘a servant’ in a state of heat, and to ‘an hireling longing for the end of
his work,’ in the words, As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and
as an hireling looketh for the end of his work; so am I made to possess
months of vanity, and wearisome nights have I numbered me. For in
drawing the comparison there are two things which he premised, as also in
the describing of weariness there are two which he thereupon added. For to
the one oppressed with heat he gave ‘months of vanity,’ in that in
proportion as the refreshing of eternity is more the object of our desire,
it is more clearly seen how vainly we spend our labour for this life. But
to the one in expectance he brought in ‘wearisome nights,’ in that the more
that at the end of our works we look at the reward we are to have given us,
the more we lament that we so long knew nothing of the thing that we now aim
at. And hence the very solicitude of the penitent is carefully set forth,
so that it is said, ‘that he numbered to himself wearisome nights,’ in that
the more truly we return to God, the more exactly we consider, while we
grieve over them, those toils which we underwent in this world from
ignorance. For as everyone finds that to become more and more sweet which
he desires of the things of eternity, so that which he was undergoing for
the love of the present world, is made appear to him proportionably
burthensome. Now if the following words be considered with reference to the
historical import alone, doubtless we have the mind of one in sorrow
described by them, viz. how in the different impulses of desire he is
variously urged by the force of grief. For it goes on,
Ver.
4. When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? and again I look for the
evening.
[ix]
18.
For in the night, day is desired, in the day, evening is longed for; in that
grief will not let the things that are before us give satisfaction, and
while it saddens the heart in the experience of the present, it is ever
stretching it to something beyond in expectation, as it were by a
consolatory longing. But because at one and the same time the afflicted
mind is drawn out in desire, and yet its grief, even though beguiled by
longings, is not ended; it is rightly added, And I shall be filled with
pains even until the darkness. But the cause of this grief is set
forth, when the words are immediately introduced,
Ver.
5. My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust: my skin is dried up
and shrunken.
[x]
19.
But we shall make out these words more exactly and more applicably, if we go
back to the order of the foregoing interpretation. For by sleep the torpor
of inaction, and by rising the exercising of action, is represented. By the
name of the evening moreover, because it accords with sleep, we have set
forth again the desire of inaction. But Holy Church, as long as she is
leading a life of corruption, never ceases to bewail the inconveniences of
her condition of mutability. For man was created for this end, that, with
mind erect, he might mount to the citadel of contemplation, and that no
touch of corruption should cause him to swerve from the love of his Maker;
but herein, that he moved the foot of his will to transgression, turning it
away from the innate stedfastness of his standing, he immediately fell away
from the love of his Creator into himself. Yet in forsaking the love of
God, that true stronghold of his standing, he could not stand fast in
himself either; in that by the impulse of a slippery condition of
mutability, being precipitated beneath himself through corruption, he also
came to be at strife with himself. And now, in that he is not secured by
the stedfastness of his creation, he is ever being made to vary by the fit
of alternating desire, so that both at rest he longs for action, and when
busied pants for rest. For because the stedfast mind, when it might have
stood, would not, it is now no longer able to stand even when it will, in
that in leaving the contemplation of its Creator, it lost the strength of
its health, and wherever placed is ever seeking some other place through
uneasiness. And so in setting forth the fickleness of the human mind, let
him say, When I go to sleep, I say, When shall I arise? and again I
shall look for the evening. As if it were expressed in plain words;
‘Nothing it receives sufficeth the mind, in that it has lost Him, Who might
have truly sufficed to it. Thus in sleep I long for rising, and at rising I
look for evening, for both when at rest I aim at the employment of action,
and when employed I look for the inaction of repose.’
20.
Which nevertheless may be understood in another sense also, For to sleep is
to lie prostrate in sin. For if the designation of ‘sleep’ did not denote
sin, Paul would never say to his disciples, Awake, ye righteous, and sin
not. [1 Cor. 15, 34] And hence too he charges his hearer, saying,
Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give
thee light. [Eph. 5, 14] And again; That now it is high time for us
to arise out of sleep. [Rom. 13, 11] Hence too Solomon upbraids the
sinner, saying, How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? [Prov. 6, 9]
Therefore each one of the Elect, when he is oppressed with the sleep of sin,
strives to rise to keep the watch of righteousness. But often when he has
risen he feels himself lifted up by the greatness of his virtuous
attainments. And hence after attainments in virtue he desires to be tried
with the adversities of the present life, lest he fall the worse from
presumption in his virtuous achievements. For if he had not known that he
was preserved more effectually by trial, the Psalmist would never have said,
Examine me, O Lord, and prove me. [Ps. 26, 2] And so it is well said
here, When I go to sleep, I say, When shall I arise? and again I shall
look for the evening; in that both in the sleep of sin, we look for the
light of righteousness, and when successes in virtuous attainments elevate
the mind, adversity is wanted for our aid, so that when the soul is exalted
above what it ought to be in rejoicing at its own excellencies, it may be
established by sorrow coming forth, through the encounters of the present
life. Hence it is not said, I shall dread the evening, but, I
shall look for. For we ‘look for’ favourable things, we dread those
that are adverse to us. And so the good man ‘looks for evening,’ in that
when he needs to be tried with affliction, adversity itself is made success
to him.
21.
By the designation of ‘evening’ there may also be understood the tempting of
sin, which oftentimes assaults the mind the sharper, in proportion as the
spirit transports it higher to the regions above. For never in this life is
sin so entirely abandoned in the practising of righteousness, that we
continue without flinching in the self-same righteousness; in that although
right principle does already drive out sin from the dwelling of the heart,
yet the very sin, that is so banished, taking her seat at the doors of our
thought, knocks for it to be opened to her. And this Moses too conveyed in
spiritual signification, when he described the parts of time being made in a
bodily way, saying, And there was light, and adding soon after,
And the evening was made [Vulg. factum est]. [Gen. 1, 3. 5.] For
the Maker of all things foreseeing man's guilt, then exhibited in Time what
now passes in the human mind. For the light draws on to eventide, in that
the shades of temptation follow the light of righteousness. But because the
light of the Elect is not put out by temptation, not night; but evening, is
recorded as made. Since it often happens, that in the heart of the
righteous temptation shades the light of righteousness, but it does not put
an end thereto; it forces it to the paleness of a flickering state, but does
not utterly quench it. And so the Elect both after sleep long for the
rising, and after rising look for evening, in that they use both to awake
from sin to the light of righteousness, and when placed in that same light
of righteousness, they are ever making themselves ready to encounter the
snares of temptation; which same they do not dread, but look for, as they
are not ignorant that even trials promote the interest of their
righteousness.
22.
But with whatever degree of virtue they may have striven against their
corruption, they cannot have entire health, until the time that the day of
their present life is ended. And hence it is added, And I shall be full
of pains even until the darkness. For one while adversities burst upon
them, at another time successes themselves beguile them by insidious
joviality; at one time evil propensities making head stir up a war of the
flesh, at another time being brought under, they invite the mind to pride.
Therefore the life of good man is full of pains even until the darkness,
in that so long as the period of their state of corruption is going on, it
is shaken by tribulation both internal and external; nor does it experience
assurance of health, saving when it leaves behind it for good the day of
temptation. And hence this same cause of these pains is brought in
immediately afterwards, when it is said, My flesh is clothed with
corruption and foulness of dust. For, as we have said a little above,
man wilfully forsook his innate stability, and plunged himself into the
abyss of corruption: and hence now he either goes slipping in impure works,
or defiled by forbidden thoughts. For, so to speak, being judicially bowed
down beneath its own sin, our nature its very self is put out of the pale of
nature, and, when let loose, it is carried even to the length of bad works,
while, being held in, it is dimmed by the pressing imagination of bad
works. Thus in the fulfilment of a forbidden deed, ‘corruption’ [putredo]
taints the flesh, while in the lightness of evil thought, dust as it were
rises up before the eyes. By consenting to evil practices we are wasted
with corruption, but by suffering in the heart the images of evil deeds, we
are defiled with the stains of dust; and so he says, My flesh is clothed
with foulness of dust. As if it were in plain words; 'The carnal life
that I am subjected to, either the corruption of wanton practice defiles, or
the cloud of wretched thought compasses about in the recollection of evil
ways.
23.
And yet if we take this in the voice of the Holy Church Universal, doubtless
we find her at one time sunk to the earth by the ‘corruption’ of the flesh,
at another time by ‘the defilement of dust.’ For she has many in her, who
whilst they are devoted to the love of the flesh, turn corrupt with the
putrefaction of excess. And there are some that keep indeed from the
gratification of the flesh, yet grovel with all their heart in earthly
practices. So let Holy Church say in the words of one of her members, let
her say what she undergoes from either sort of men, My flesh is clothed
with corruption, and the defilements of dust. As if she told in plain
words, saying, ‘There are very many that are members of me in faith, yet
these are not sound or pure members in practice: in that either being
mastered by foul desires, they run out in the rottenness of corruption; or,
being devoted to earthly practices, they are besmeared with dust. For in
those, whom I have to endure, that are full of wantonness, I do plainly
lament for the flesh turned corrupt; and in those, whom I suffer from, that
are seeking the earth, what else is this but that I carry it defiled with
dust?’
24.
And hence it is properly added at the same time concerning both sorts; My
skin is dried up and shrivelled. For in the body of the Church, those
that are devoted to outward concerns alone are suitably called ‘the skin,’
which same by becoming dry is contracted, in that the soul of carnal men,
while their hearts are set on present objects, and covet what is close at
hand, have no mind, as it were, to be made to stretch out after the things
of the future world in longsuffering. These, while they disregard the
richness of the interior hope, are dried up that they become shrivelled; in
that if hopelessness did not parch their hearts, the fever of a little mind
would never contract them. Thus it was this contraction that the Psalmist
dreaded, when in fear of the drought of the same he said, May my soul be
satisfied as with marrow and fatness. [Ps. 63, 5] For the soul is
‘satisfied with marrow and fatness,’ when it is refreshed by the infusion of
heavenly hope against the heat of present longings. And so the ‘skin’ being
dried up shrivels, when the heart being given to outward objects, and dried
up in hopelessness, is not stretched out in love of its Creator, but is
folded up into itself, so to say, by wrinkled thought.
25.
But it is to be considered that carnal minds only delight in present things,
because they never weigh well how transitory the life of the flesh is. For
if they regarded the speed of its flight, they would never love it even when
it smiled upon them. But Holy Church, in her elect members, daily minds how
quick a flight belongs to outward things, and therefore she sets firm the
foot of serious purpose in the interior. And hence it is well added;
Ver.
6. My days are past more swiftly than a web is cut off by the weaver.
[xi]
[MORAL INTERPRETATION]
26.
By a very suitable image the time of the flesh is compared to a web. For
as the web advances by threads, so this mortal life by the several days; but
in proportion as it grows to its bigness, it is advancing to its cutting
off. For as we have also said above, whilst the time in our hands passes,
the time before us is shortened. And of the whole space of our lives those
portions are rendered fewer that are to come, in proportion as those are
many in number that have gone by. For a web, being fastened above and
below, is bound to two pieces of wood that it may be woven; but in
proportion as below the part woven is rolled up, so above the part that
remains to be woven is being unwound, and by the same act, by which it
augments itself in growth, that is rendered less which remains. Just so
with the periods of our life, we as it were roll up below those that are
past, and unwind at top those that are to come, in that in the same
proportion that the past become more, the future have begun to diminish.
But because not even does a web suffice for the setting forth of our span of
time, for the rapid course of our life surpasses the speed and quickness
even of that too, it is well said in this place, My days are past away
more swiftly than a web is cut off by the weaver. For to the web there
is a delay of growth, but to the present life there is no delay of coming to
an end. For in the one when the hand of the workman is stopped, the end of
the arrival is deferred, but in this latter, because we consume without end
time ending every instant, even while resting we are brought to the end of
our way, and along the course of our passage, we go on even in sleeping.
Therefore the Elect, seeing that the moments of the present life run past at
speed, never in this journey of most rapid motion fix the purpose of their
hearts. And hence it is well added upon that,
And
are spent without any hope.
[xii]
27.
The minds of lost sinners are bound fast with such love for the days of
their present life, that they long to live for ever here in the same way.
So that, if it were possible, they desire never to have the course of their
life brought to an end. For they are too indifferent to take account of the
future, they place all their hope in transitory things, they aim to have
nothing but such objects as pass away. And while they think too much of
transitory things, and never look forward to those that shall remain, the
eye of their heart is so closed in insensible blindness, that it is never
fixed on the interior light. Whence it often happens, that distress already
shakes the frame, and approaching death cuts off the power of the breath of
life, yet they never cease to mind the things that are of the world. And
already the avenger is dragging them to judgment, and yet they themselves,
occupied with the concerns of time, in the busy management of them, are only
thinking how they may still live on in this world. In the act of leaving
every thing, they dispose of all as if they were entering upon the
possession of them, in that the hope of living is not broken, at the very
moment when life is at an end. They are already being forced to judgment in
feeling [per sentemtiam], yet they still cleave to the hold of their
goods in solicitude. For by the hardened soul death is still believed to be
far off, even when his touch is felt. And the soul is so separated from the
flesh, that by keeping itself in excessive love for things present, when it
is led to everlasting punishment, it does not know this mere thing, whither
it is being led; and in leaving all that it would not love with bounds, it
suddenly finds without bounds things that it never anticipated. But, on the
other hand, the mind of the righteous is stretched in intentness after the
eternal world, even when the present life goes smoothly along with it. It
enjoys the high health of the flesh, yet the spirit is never hindered by
dependence on it. No atom [articulum] of death as yet breaks forth,
still he daily regards it as present to him. For because life is
unceasingly slipping by, the expectation of living is wholly cut short for
him. Therefore it is well said of the passing days, And are spent
without hope. As if it were declared in plain terms; ‘I have not placed
confidence of heart in the present life, in that all that is passing I have
dismissed from my hopes, treading it under foot.’ And hence it is rightly
added immediately after,
Ver.
7. O remember that my life is wind.
[xiii]
28.
For those men love the life of the flesh as enduring, who do not consider
how infinite is the eternity of the life to come; and whereas they take no
thought of the sure stedfastness of the everlasting state, they take their
exile for their home, darkness for light, going for standing. Since they
that know nothing of greater things can never judge rightly of the least.
For the order of judging requires that we should be above that which we are
striving to try. Since if the mind is not able to rise above all things, it
has no certain sight at all in relation to those, by which it is surpassed.
And so it is for this reason that the lost soul is inadequate to estimate
the course of the present 1ife, because from love of the same it is bowed
down to the admiration thereof. But holy men, in proportion as they lift
their hearts towards the eternal world, bethink themselves how short-lived
that is which is closed by an ending. And all that is passing is rendered
worthless to their senses, forasmuch as that pours in its light through the
rays of intelligence, which once received never departs. And as soon as
they contemplate the infinite extent of eternity, they cease any longer to
desire as great whatsoever has an end to limit it. But the mind when lifted
up is carried beyond the limits of time, even when by the flesh it is held
fast in time, and it looks down from a greater height on all that is to have
an end, the more truly it knows the things without end. Now this very
consideration of the short span of man’s estate is itself an offering of
singular efficacy [virtutis] to our Maker. Whence a sacrifice of
this merit is here rightly offered together with prayer, when it is said,
O remember that my life is wind. As if it were said in plain words,
‘Regard with loving-kindness one that is quickly gone, in that I claim to be
looked upon by Thee with greater pity, even in proportion as I myself do not
turn away mine eyes from the contemplation of my short span.’ But seeing
that when the season of our present life is cut short, there is no more
return to the work of earning our forgiveness, it is rightly added,
Mine
eye shall no more return to see good.
[xiv]
29.
The eye of the dead ‘no more returneth to see good,’ in that for the setting
forth of good works, the soul once snipped of the flesh knows no return. It
is hence that the rich man, whom the fire of hell was devouring, knew that
he could never restore himself by doing works; for he never turned himself
to do good to himself, but to his brethren that were left; I pray thee,
father Abraham, that thou wouldest send him to my father's house; for I have
five brethren, that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this
place of torment. [Luke 16, 27. 28.] For hope even though unfounded is
used to cheer the stricken soul; but the lost, that they may feel their woe
the keener, lose even hope as to pardon. And hence when he was given over
to avenging flames, he was not anxious to help himself, as we said, but his
brethren, in that he knew that he would never be without the torments of
those fires, the punishment of despair being superadded. Hence Solomon
saith, Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there
is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither
thou goest. [Eccles. 9, 10] So ‘the eye shall no more return to see
good,’ in that the soul, on meeting with its recompense, is never again
recalled to tell to the account of practice. Therefore forasmuch as all
that is seen is fleeting, and the things that follow are to endure, blessed
Job rightly combined the two in one verse, saying, O remember that my
life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. For looking at the
transitoriness of things present, he says, O remember that my life is
wind. But contemplating the eternity of those that come after, he
added, Mine eye shall no more return to see good. And here,
furthermore, he justly proceeds to take upon him the voice of the whole race
of man destitute of the benefit of redemption, saying,
Ver.
8. The eye of man shall not see me.
[xv]
30.
For ‘the eye of Man’ is the pity of the Redeemer, which softens the
hardness of our insensibility, when it looks upon us. Hence, as the Gospel
witnesses, it is said, And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And
Peter remembered the word of the Lord. And he went out, and wept bitterly.
[Luke 22, 61. 62.] But the soul when divested of the flesh ‘the eye of Man’
doth not henceforth at all regard, in that it never delivers him after
death, whom grace doth not restore to pardon before death. For hence Paul
saith, Behold, now is the accepted time, behold, now is the day of
salvation. [2 Cor. 6, 2] Hence the Psalmist saith, For His mercy is
for the present state of being [d]; [Ps. 118, 1] for this reason, that
the man whom mercy doth not rescue now, after the present state of being,
justice alone consigns to punishment. Hence Solomon saith, And if the
tree fall toward the south or toward the north, in the place where the tree
falleth there it shall be. [Eccles. 11, 3] For when, at the moment of
the falling of the human being, either the Holy Spirit or the Evil Spirit
receives the soul departed from the chambers of the flesh, he will keep it
with him for ever without change, so that neither once exalted, shall it be
precipitated into woe, nor once plunged into eternal woes, any further arise
to take the means of escape. Therefore let the holy man, contemplating the
ills of mankind, viz. how he is removed from the present world without the
knowledge of his Redeemer, and buried in everlasting flames without remedy,
and taking up their voice in his own person, give utterance to the words,
And the eye of man shall not see me. Forasmuch as the man whom the
grace of the Redeemer doth not now look upon to correct, it doth not then
visit to keep from destruction. For the Lord, when He cometh to judgment,
looketh on the sinner to smite, but He doth not look on him to acknowledge
him in bestowing the grace of salvation. He taketh account of sins, and
knoweth not the life of those that perish. Hence after that the holy man
had averred that he could no more be ‘seen by the eye of Man’ after the
present life, he rightly added at once;
Thine
eyes are upon me, and I shall not stand.
[xvi]
31.
As though he said in plain words; ‘Thou, when thou comest in severity to
Judgment, both seest not, to save, and yet seest, to smite, in that him,
whom Thou lookest not on in the present life with the pitifulness of Thy
saving care, hereafter looking on Thou dost extinguish by Thy law of
justice. For now the sinner casts away the fear of God, and yet lives,
blasphemes and yet prospers, because the pitiful Creator would not in seeing
punish him, whom He would rather by waiting for bring to amendment; as it is
written, And winkest at the sins of men for their repentance. [Wisd.
11, 23] But when the sinner is then looked upon, he ‘does not stand,’ in
that when the strict Judge minutely examines his deserts, the convicted
sinner cannot bear up against his torments.
32.
Not but that this likewise accords with the voice of the righteous, whose
mind is ever anxiously fixed on the coming Judgment. For they have fears
for every thing that they do, whilst they heedfully consider who are the
persons, and before what a Judge they will have to stand. They behold the
power of His Mightiness, and they consider what an amount of guilt they are
tied and bound with from their own imperfection. They reckon up the evil
deeds of their own doing, and multiply over against them the benefits of
their Creator. They reflect how rigidly He judges wicked deeds, how
minutely He examines good ones; and they foresee without a shadow of doubt
that they will be lost, if they be judged apart from pity: for even this
very life that we seem to live righteously is sin, if, when He takes account
of our lives, the mercy of God does not make allowance for it in His own
eyes. For it is hence written in this very book, Yea, the stars are not
pure in His sight. [Job 25, 5] For strictly judged in His sight those
very persons do also bear spots of defilement, that shine bright in the
purity of holiness. Therefore it is well said, Thine eyes are upon me,
and I shall not stand. As if it were said in plain terms by the voice
of the righteous man, ‘If I be sifted with an exact scrutiny, I cannot stand
up in undergoing judgment, for life cannot bear up against punishment, if
the mercilessness of just retribution bears hard upon it.’ Now both the sin
and the punishment of that same human race is well added in few words, where
it is said immediately afterwards,
Ver.
9. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to
hell shall come up no more.
[xvii]
33.
For a cloud is suspended in the higher regions, but it is condensed and
driven by the wind that it flies, and it is scattered by the heat of the
.sun that it vanishes. Thus, thus verily is it with the hearts of men,
which by the faculty of reason bestowed upon them dart on high, but driven
by the blasts of the evil spirit, they are forced hither and thither by the
bad impulses of their desires, but by the searching eye of the Judge above
they are melted as if by the heat of the sun, and being once consigned to
the regions of woe, never return for the benefit of working. Let the holy
man then, in setting forth the elevation, the career, and the eclipse of the
human race, exclaim, As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he
that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. As if he spake in
plain words, saying, ‘In flying on high he is brought to nought, who by
exalting himself is advancing to destruction, whom, if sin once force to
punishment, mercy never more restores to pardon.’ Hence it is yet further
added,
He
shall return no more to his own house.
[xviii]
34.
As the house of the body is a bodily habitation, so that becomes to each
separate mind ‘its own house,’ whatsoever thing it is used to inhabit in
desire. And so ‘there is no more returning to his own house,’ because, when
once a man is given over to eternal punishments, he is henceforth no more
recalled thither, where he had attached himself in love. Moreover by the
designation of hell the despair of the sinner may also be set forth, of
which it is said by the Psalmist, In hell, who shall confess to Thee?
[Ps. 6, 5] Whence again it is written, When the ungodly man cometh into
the pit of sinners, he contemneth. [Prov. 18, 3] Now whosoever yields
himself to ungodliness, doth assuredly quit the life of righteousness by a
proper death. But when a man after sin is furthermore overwhelmed by a
mountain of despair, what else is this but that after death he is buried in
the torments of hell? Therefore it is rightly said, As the cloud is
consumed, and vanisheth alway, so he that goeth down to hell shall come up
no more; in that it very often happens, that with the commission of
wickedness despair also is united, and the way of returning is henceforth
cut off. But the hearts of the despairing are rightly compared to clouds,
in that they are at once darkened with the mists of error, and thick with
the number of sins; but being consumed, they vanish away, in that being
lighted up by the blaze of the final Judgment, they are scattered to the
winds. ‘The house’ too is often understood for the dwelling-place of the
heart. Hence it is said to one that was healed, Go to thine house
[Mark 5, 19]; in that it is most meet that the sinner after pardon should
turn back into his own mind, so as not to do aught a second time which may
justly subject him to the scourge. But he that has ‘gone down to hell,’
shall no more ‘ascend into his own house,’ in that him, that despair
overwhelms, it puts forth without from the habitation of the heart. And he
cannot return back within, because when he has been ejected without, day by
day he falls urged on into worse extremes. For man was made to contemplate
his Creator, that he might ever be seeking after His likeness, and dwell in
the festival [solemnitate] of His love. But being cast without
himself by disobedience, he lost the seat of his mind, in that being left
all abroad in dark ways, he wandered far from the habitation of the true
light. Whence it is further added with propriety,
Neither shall his place know him any more.
[xix]
35.
For ‘the place’ of man, but not a local place, the Creator Himself became,
Who created him to have his being in Himself, which same place man did then
forsake, when on hearing the words of the deceiver, he forsook the love of
the Creator. But when Almighty God in the work of redemption shewed Himself
even by a bodily appearing, He Himself, so to say, following the footsteps
of His runagate, came as a place where to keep man whom He had lost. For if
the Creator could not in any sense be styled ‘a place,’ the Psalmist, in
praising God, would never have said, The children of thy servants shall
dwell there [‘there’ is not in V. or LXX.]. [Ps. 102, 29] For we never
say there, except when we mark out a place in a particular manner.
But there are very many, who even after they have received the succour of
the Redeemer, are precipitated into the darkness of despair, and they perish
the more desperately, in proportion as they despise the very offered
remedies of mercy. And so it is rightly said concerning him that is damned,
Neither shall his place know him any more. For he is not known by
his Creator in His sorer severity at the Judgment, in the same degree that
he is not recalled even by His gifts to the grace of restoration. And hence
it is particularly to be observed, that he does not say, ‘Nor shall he know
his own place any more;’ but, Neither shall his place know him any more.
For whereas that ‘knowing’ is ascribed not to the person, but to the place,
the Creator Himself is manifestly set forth, by the name of ‘a place,’ Who,
when He cometh in strictness for the final account, shall say to all that
abide in iniquity, I know you not whence ye are. [Luke 13, 25] But
the Elect severally, in proportion as they consider that lost sinners are
unsparingly cut off, day by day purify themselves with greater diligence
from the stains of the iniquity they have done; and when they see others on
the brink of ruin grow cold in the love of life, they earnestly inflame
themselves to tears of penitence. Hence it is well added,
Ver.
11. Therefore also I will not refrain my mouth.
[xx]
36.
For that man ‘refrains his mouth,’ that is ashamed to confess the evil he
has done. For to put the mouth to labour is to employ it in the confession
of sin done, but the righteous man doth ‘not refrain his mouth,’ in that
forestalling the wrath of the searching Judge, he falls wroth upon himself
in words of self-confession. Hence the Psalmist saith, Let us come
before His Presence with confession [e]. [Ps. 95, 2] Hence it is
delivered by Solomon, He that coveteth his sins shall not prosper, but
whoso confesseth, and forsaketh them shall have mercy. [Prov. 28, 13]
Hence it is written again, The just man is first the accuser of himself.
[Ib. 18, 17] But the mouth is never opened in confession, unless at the
thought of the searching Judgment the spirit is in straits from fear; and
hence it is fitly said afterwards,
I
will speak in the anguish of my spirit.
[xxi]
37.
For ‘anguish of the spirit’ sets the tongue in motion, so that the voice of
confession is levelled against the guilt of evil practice. Moreover it is
to be borne in mind, that oftentimes even the reprobate make confession of
sins, but are too proud to weep for them. But the Elect prosecute with
tears of severe self-condemnation those sins of theirs which they disclose
in words of confession. Hence it was well that after blessed Job had
pledged himself not to spare his lips, he added directly the anguish of the
spirit. As if he avowed plainly, saying, ‘The tongue doth in such sort tell
of guilt, that the spirit is not ever let go loose amidst other things, free
of the sting of sorrow; but in telling my sins, I disclose my wound, and in
thinking over my sins for their amendment, I seek the cure of the wound in
the medicine of sorrow.’ For he that tells indeed the evil deeds he has
done, but holds back from lamenting what he has told, he as it were by
taking off the covering discovers the wound, but in deadness of mind he
applies no remedy to the wound. Therefore it is needful that sorrow alone
should wring out the voice of confession, lest the wound, being exposed, but
neglected, in proportion as it is henceforth more freely touched through the
knowledge of our fellowcreatures, fester so much the worse. Contrariwise
the Psalmist had not only disclosed the sore of his heart, but was
furthermore applying to it thus laid bare the remedy of sorrow, when he
said, I acknowledge my sin unto Thee, and my iniquity will I think on.
[Ps. 32, 5] For by so ‘acknowledging’ he discovered the hidden sore, and by
thus ‘thinking on’ it, what else did he, than apply a remedy to the wound?
But to the mind that is distressed, and anxiously thinking on its own ills,
there arises a strife in behalf of self against self. For when it urges
itself to the sorrows of penitence, it rends itself with secret upbraiding.
And hence it is justly added afterwards,
I
will converse with the bitterness of my spirit.
[xxii]
38.
For when we are in trouble from dread of God's judgment, whilst we bewail
some things done wrong, seeing that by the mere force of our bitterness
alone we are stirred up to enter into ourselves more observantly, we find in
ourselves other things also to bewail more largely. For it often happens
that what escaped us in our insensibility, is made known to us more exactly
in tears. And the troubled mind finds out more surely the ill that it has
done and knew not of, and its conflict discovers to it in a true point of
view how far it had deviated from the peace which is of truth, in that its
guilt, which while secure it thought not of, it finds out in itself when
disturbed. For the bitterness of penance gaining ground urgently brings
home to the confounded heart the unlawful things it has committed, exhibits
the Judge arrayed against them in severity, strikes deep the threats of
punishment, smites the soul with consternation, overwhelms it with shame,
chides the unlawful motions of the heart, and disturbs the repose of its
mischievous self-security, all the good gifts that the Creator has
vouchsafed to bestow upon him, all the evil that he himself has done in
return for the good things of His hand, are reckoned up, how that he was
created by Him in a wonderful way, that he was sustained freely and for
nought, that he was endowed with the substance of reason at his creation,
that he was called by the grace of his Creator, that he himself even when
called refused to follow, that the pitifulness of Him that calleth did not
disregard him, not even when deaf and resisting, that he was enlightened
with gifts, that of his own free will, even after these gifts received, he
blinded himself by wicked deeds, that he was cleared from the wrong doings
of his state of blindness by the strokes of fatherly solicitude, that by
means of the pains of these strokes he was restored to the joys of saving
health by the remedy that mercy applied, that being subject to certain bad
practices, though not of the worst sort, he does not cease to sin even in
the midst of these strokes; that the grace of God even when slighted did not
abandon its sinner. And thus whereas it upbraids with so much keenness the
agitated mind at one time by a display of the gifts of God, another time by
the reproaches of its own behaviour, the bitterness of spirit has a tongue
of its own in the heart of the righteous, which speaks to it the more
searchingly, in proportion as it is heard within. And hence it is not at
all said, ‘I will talk in the bitterness of my spirit,’ but I will
converse with the bitterness; in that the force of grief, which taking
each sin separately, stimulates the deadened mind to lamentations, as it
were shapes words of converse to it, wherein it being chidden might find
itself out, and henceforth rise up with better heed to the safe keeping of
itself. And so let the righteous man say in his own voice; as bearing a
figure of Holy Church, let him say in ours too; I will converse with the
bitterness of my spirit. As if he spake it in plainer words, saying,
‘Within I hold converse with the anguish of my heart against mine own self,
and without I hide myself from the lash of the Judge.’ Now the mind that is
borne hard upon by the pangs of penitence is gathered up close into itself,
and severed by strong resolution from all the gratifications of the flesh,
it longs to advance to things above, yet it still feels opposition from the
corruption of the flesh. And hence it is rightly added immediately,
Ver.
12. Am I a sea or a whale, that thou hast compassed me about with a
prison?
[xxiii]
39.
Man is ‘compassed about with a prison,’ in that he very often both strives
to mount on high by the strides of virtuous attainments, and yet is impeded
by the corruption of his fleshly part. Of which same the Psalmist rightly
prays that he might be divested, saying, Bring my soul out of prison,
that I may praise Thy Name. [Ps. 142, 7] But what have we set forth by
the designation of ‘the sea,’ saving the hearts of carnal men tossed with
swelling thoughts? and what by the name of ‘a whale,’ except our old
enemy? who when in taking possession of the hearts of the children of this
world he makes his way into them, does in a certain sort swim about in their
slippery thoughts. But the whale is made fast in prison, in that the evil
Spirit, being cast down below, is kept under by the weight of his own
punishment, that he should have no power to fly up to the heavenly realms,
as Peter testifies, who saith, God spared not the Angels that sinned, but
cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness to be
reserved unto judgment. [2 Pet. 2, 4] ‘The whale’ is fast bound in
prison, in that he is prevented from tempting the good as much as he
desires. The sea too is ‘compassed about with a prison,’ in that the
swelling and raging desires of carnal minds, for the doing of the evil that
they long for, are clogged by the straitness of their inability. For they
often long to have power over their betters, yet by the Divine ordering,
that regulates all things marvellously, they are made to bow beneath them.
They desire, being exalted high, to injure the good, yet being brought under
their power, they look for consolation from them. For the sake of
fulfilling the gratification of the flesh, they covet length of years in the
present life, yet they are carried off from it with haste. Concerning such
it is well said by the Psalmist, And He put the waters as it were in a
skin. [Ps. 78, 13. V. thus] For ‘the waters are in a skin’ when their
loose desires, in that they find not the execution in deed, are kept down
under a carnal heart. Therefore the whale and the sea are hemmed in by the
close pressure of a prison, in that whether as regards the evil spirit or
his followers, in whose minds he gathers himself and sets rolling therein
the waves of tumultuous thoughts, the rigour of the Most High confines them,
that they should have no power to accomplish the evil things that they are
set upon.
40.
But holy men, in proportion as they contemplate the Mysteries of heavenly
truths with more perfect purity of heart, pant after them with daily
increased ardour of affection. They long to be henceforth filled to the
full at that fountain head, whence they as yet taste but a little drop with
the mouth of contemplation. They long entirely to subdue the promptings of
the flesh, no longer to be subject to any thing unlawful in the imaginations
of the heart springing from the corruption thereof. But because it is
written, For the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthy
tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things, [Wisd.
9, 15] therefore they henceforth rise above themselves in purpose of mind,
but being still subject to the capricious motions of their imperfect nature,
they lament that they are confined in the prison-house of corruption. Am
I a sea or a whale, that Thou dost compass me about with a prison? As
if it were in plain words; ‘The sea or the whale, i.e. the wicked and their
prime mover, the Evil Spirit, because they desire to have a loose given them
for the mere liberty of committing iniquity alone, are justly held bound in
the prison of the punishment inflicted on them. But I, that already long
for the liberty of Thine eternal state, why am I still enclosed in the
prison of mine own corruption?’ Not that this is either demanded in pride
by the righteous, in that being inflamed with the love of the Truth they
desire completely to surmount the narrow compass of their imperfect
condition; nor yet that it is unjustly ordered by the Author of the just, in
that in delaying the wishes of His Elect, He puts them to pain, and in
paining purifies, that they may one day be the better enabled by that delay,
for the receiving that they desire. But the Elect, so long as they are kept
away from the interior rest, turn back into their own hearts, and being
there buried from the tumults of the flesh, as it were seek a retreat of
infinite delight. But therein they often feel the stings of temptation, and
are subject to the goadings of the flesh, and there they meet with the
hardest toils, where they had looked for perfect rest from toil. Hence the
holy man after the prison of his state of corruption that he told of,
hastening to return to the tranquil regions of the heart, seeing that he
experienced in the interior also all that same strife, to escape which he
fled from things without, adds immediately, saying,
Ver.
13, 14. When I say my bed shall comfort me, I shall be eased in speaking
with myself on my couch, then Thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me
through visions.
[xxiv]
41.
For in Holy Writ a ‘bed,’ a ‘couch,’ or ‘litter,’ is usually taken for the
secret depth of the heart. For it is hence that under the likeness of each
separate soul, the Spouse, urged by the piercing darts of holy love, says in
the Song of Songs, By night on my bed I sought him, whom my soul loveth.
[Cant. 3, 1] For ‘by night and on the bed is the beloved sought,’ in that
the appearance of the Invisible Creator, apart from every image of a bodily
appearing, is found in the chamber of the heart. And hence ‘Truth’ saith to
those same lovers of Him, The kingdom of God is within you. [Luke 17,
21] And again, If I go not away, the Comforter will not come. [John
16, 7] As if it were in plain words; ‘If I do not withdraw My Body from the
eyes of your fixed regard, I lead you not by the Comforter, the Spirit, to
the perception of the unseen.’ Hence it is said by the Psalmist of the
just, The Saints shall be joyful in glory, they shall rejoice upon their
beds [Ps. 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
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, 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 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