Morals on the Book of Job (Moralia)

xxxiv. 68. For though the just are possessed by no riot of carnal desires, yet the clog of corruption binds them down in this Wisd.9, life with hard chains; for it is written. For the corruptible body presseth. down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things. So herein even, that they are still mortal beings, they are weighed down by the burthen of their state of corruption, and chained and bound by its clogs, in that they are not yet risen in that liberty of an incorruptible life. For they meet with one thing from the mind, and another from the body, and they are spent every day in the inward conflict with themselves. Are they not indeed bound with the hard chain of vexation, whose mind, without labour, is dissolved in ignorance, and is not trained without the strivings of labour.? When forced it stands erect, of itself it lies ])rostrate, and yet as soon as raised up, it forthwith falls, by conquering itself with Book laborious effort, its eyes are opened to see heavenly things, '— but recoiling, it flees the light, which had illuminated it. Are they not bound fast with the hard chain of vexation, who when their fired soul draws them with a perfect desire to the bosom of inward peace, suffer perturbation from the flesh in the heat of the conflict? And though this now no longer encounters it face to face, as though drawn up with hostile front, yet it still goes muttering like a captive in the rear of the mind, and, though with fears, it yet defiles with vile clamouring the form of fair tranquillity in the breast. Therefore, though the Elect subdue all enemies with a strong hand, since they long for the security of inward peace, it is yet a giievous vexation to them to have something still to vanquish. And leaving these out of the question, they endure over and above those chains too, which a sore necessity outwardly fastens upon them; for to eat, to drink, and to be tired, are chains of corruption, and chains too, which can never be unloosed, save when our mortal nature is turned into the glory of an immortal nature; for we fill our body with food to sustain it, lest it fail from extenuation; and we thin it down by abstinence, lest it oppress by repletion. We quicken it by motion, lest it be killed by lying motionless, but by setting it down we soon stop its motions, that by that very activity it may not give under. We clothe it with garments as a succour to it, lest the cold destroy it, and cast off' these succours so sought after, lest the heat should parch it. Exposed then to so many vicissitudes and chances, what else do we, but drudge to the corruptibility of our state ot* being, that howsoever the multiplicity of the services rendered to it may sustain that body, which the fretting care of a frail nature subject to change weighs to the ground. Hence Paul says well. For the creature was Uom.Sy made suhject to vanity, not witliti[/ly, but by reason qf him who hath subjected the same in hope. Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage (f rorrujition into the glorious liberty (f the sons if God. Vox * the creature is made subject to vanity, not willingly," in that man, who willingly left the footing of inborn finnness, being pressed down by the weight of a dcsened mortality, is the unwilling

230 Rest in prospect dwelt on as present.

Job 3, slave of the corruption of his changeful condition. But this —^- — creature is then rescued from the slavery of corruption, when m rising again it is lifted uncorrupt to the glory of the sons of God. Here then the Elect are bound with vexation, in that they are still pressed down by the curse of their corrupt condition. But when we are stripped of our corruptible flesh, we are as it were loosened from those chains of vexation, whereby we are now held bound. For we already long to come into the presence of God, but we are still hindered by the clog of a mortal body. So that we are justly called ' prisoners,' in that we have not as yet the advance of our desire to God free before us. Hence Paul, whose heart was set upon the things of eternity, yet who still carried about him the load of his corruption, being in bonds Phil. 1, exclaims, Having a desire to be unloosed and to he with Christ, For he would not desire to be ' unloosed,' unless, assuredly, he saw himself to be in bonds. Now because he saw that these bonds were most surely to be burst at the Resurrection, the Prophet rejoiced as if they were already Ps. 116, burst asunder, when he said. Thou hast loosed my bonds. I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving. Let the holy man then reflect that inward light is the haven that receives converted sinners, and let him say. There the ivicked cease from trouble. Let him reflect, that holy men, being awearied with the exercising of desire, enjoy the deeper repose in that inmost bosom, and let him say. And there the weary in strength are at rest. Let him reflect, that being absolved from all the bonds of corruption at once and together, they attain those uncorrupt joys of liberty. And the former prisoners are alike without vexation. And it is well said, the former prisoners^ for while that ever present bliss

'B.'andis in his view, all that shall be, and is going ^, seems as one' though past. For whilst the end of all things is awaited, all that passes away is accounted already to have been. But let him tell what all they, for whom the interior rest is there in store, shall meanwhile have done here. It goes on; non ex- They have not heard, the voice of the exactor.

runt 09. Who else is to be understood by the title of the xxxv. ' exactor,' saving that insatiate prompter, who for once bestowed the coin of deceit upon mankind, and from that time ceases not daily to claim the debt of death? Who Book lent to man in Paradise the money of sin, but by the '— multiplying of wickedness is daily exacting it with usury? Concerning this exactor, Truth saith in the Gospel, Afid the Liikei2, Judge deliver thee to the ^officer. Therefore the yoice ofiy/^^.. this exactor is the tempting of persuasion to our hurt. And'^'^'^"' we hear the yoice of the exactor, \yhen we are smitten with his temptation, but we do not hear it effectually^ if we re?>\i-,Vexaudi. the hand that smites, for he * hears' that feels the temptation, but he hears effectually who yields to the temptation. So let it be said of the righteous. They have not heard the voice of the exactor; for though they hear his prompting in that they are tempted, they do not hear it effectually, for that they take shame to yield thereto, but because whatsoeyer the mind loyes with great affection, it is often repeating eyen in utterance of the lips; blessed Job, in that he views the crowds of inward peace with fulness of affection, again employs himself about the description^ of it, savins, j.^': *^®

Ver. 19. The small and great are there; the servant wguishing free from his master. of them.

70. Forasmuch as there is to us in this life a difference in works, doubtless there will be in the future life a difference in degrees of dignity, that whereas here one sui^passes another in desert, there one may excel another in reward. Hence Truth says in the Gospel, In My Father's house are majiyjnhniA, tnansio7is. But in those * many mansions,' the very diversity "" of rewards will be in some measure in hannony. For an influence so mighty joins us together in that peace, that what any has failed to receive in himself, he rejoices to have received in another. And thus they that did not equally labour in the vineyard, equally obtain all of them a penny. And indeed with the Father are ' many mansions,' and yet the unequal labourers receive the same penny, in that the blessedness of joy will be one and the same to all, yet not one and the same sublimity of life to all. lie had seen the small and great in this light, who said in the voice of the Head; Thine eyes did see My substance, yet being imperfect, P^. 139, and in Thy book were all My members written. He beheld ^^' * the small and the great together,' when he declared, //«??«• nfi, will bless them that fear the Lord, both small and great.

238 Saints not freed as yet from feaj-s about sin. Job 3, 71. And it is well added, And the servant is free from

TiT — '— his master. For it is written, Every one that sinneth is the John 8, servant of sin. For whosoever yields himself up to bad ^' desire, submits the neck of his mind, till now free, to the dominion of wickedness. Now we withstand this master, when we struggle against the evil whereby we had been taken captive, when we forcibly resist the bad habit, and treading under all froward desires, maintain against the same the right of inborn liberty, when we strike our sin by penitence, and cleanse the stains of pollution with our tears. But it oftentimes happens, that the mind indeed already bewails what it remembers itself to have done amiss, that already it not only forsakes its misdeeds, but even chastises them with the bitterest lamentations, yet while it recalls to memory the things that it has done, it is affrighted and sorely dismayed against the Judgment. It already turns itself with a perfect intention, but does not yet lift itself up in a perfect state of security, for while it weighs the rigid exactness of the final scrutiny, it trembles with anxiety between hope and fear, for it knows not, when the righteous Judge comes, what He will reckon, what He will remit of the deeds done. For it ^ remembers what evil deeds it has committed, but it cannot tell whether it has worthily bewailed the commission of them, and it dreads lest the vastness of the sin exceed the measure of penance. And it is very often the case that ' Truth' already remits the sin, yet the troubled soul, whilst it is full of anxiety for itself, still trembles for the pardon thereof. So that in this present life the servant already escapes from his master, yet he is not free from him, in that by chastisement and penance man already forsakes his sin, yet he still fears the strict Judge for the recompensing of it. There then ^ the servant will be free from his master,' when there will be no longer misgiving about the pardon of sin, when the recollection of its sin no longer condemns the soul, now secured, where the conscience does not tremble under a sense of guilt, but exults in the pardon of the same in a state of freedom.

72. But if man is reached there by no remembrance of his sin, how does he congratulate himself that he has been saved therefrom? Or how does he return thanks to his

Benefactor for the pardon, which he has received, if by an Book intervening forgetfulness of his past wickedness, he knows not that he is a debtor to suffer punishment? For we must not pass over negligently that which the Psalmist says, /PtJ-SO,! will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever. For how does he * sing of the mercies of God for ever,' if he knows not that he has been miserable; and if he has no recollection of past misery, whence does he answer with praises the bestowal of mercy? And again, we must enquire how the mind of the Elect can be in perfect bliss, if amidst its joys the memory of its guilt reaches it? Or how does the glory of indefectible light shine out, when it is overcast by the sin that is recalled to mind? But be it known, that just as oftentimes now in joy we call to mind Stid things, so in the future life, we bring back the memory of past sin without any hurt to our bliss. For it verj' often hap]iens, that in the season of health, wc recall to mind past pains without feeling pain, and in proportion as we remember ourselves sick, the more we hug ourselves in health. And so in that blissful estate there will be a remembrance of sin, not such as to pollute the mind, but to attach us the more closely to our joy, that while the mind without pain remembers itself of its pain, it may the more clearly perceive itself to be a debtor to the physician, and so much the more cherish the health it has received, in proportion as it remembers what it has escaped of uneasiness. And so then, placed in that state of bliss, we so regard our evil deeds without loathing, as now being set in light, without any inward blindness of the heart, we see the darkness with our mind; for though that be dim which wc perceive with the imagination, this comes from the sentence of light, not from the misfortune of blindness. And thus throughout eternity we render to our Benefactor the praise of His mercy, yet are in no degree o])pressed with the consciousness of wretchedness; for whilst we review our evils without any evil betiding the mind, on the one hand there will never be ought to defile the hearts that render j)raise on the score of past wickednesses, and again there will always be somewhat to inflame them to the praise of their Deliverer. Therefore, because the repose of inward light does in such sort transport the great ones into itself, that yet it does not

Job 3, leave the little ones, let it be rightly said, the small and great

'sinner is there touched by the recollection of his sin in such sort that he is not overwhelmed by any confusion at that recollection, it is fitly subjoined, And the servant is free from his master.

1. Though the appointments of God are very much i. hidden from sight, why it is that in this life it is sometimes ill with the good and well with the wicked, yet they are then still more mysterious ■ when it both goes well with the good here below, and ill with the wicked. For when it goes ill with the good, and well with the bad, this perhaps is found to be for that both the good, if they have done wrong in any thing, receive punishment here that they may be more completely'' freed from eternal damnation, and the wicked meet here with the good things, which conduce to this life, that they may be dragged to unmitigated torments hereafter. And hence these words are spoken to the rich man, when burning in hell. Sot?, remeniher tltat Ihou in thy /f/<?/«//?0Luke receivedsl thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things. *^' ■^^• But when it is well with the good here and ill with the wicked, it is very doubtful, whether the good for this reason receive good things, that they may be set forward and advance to something better, or whether by a just and secret appointment they receive here the reward of their deeds, that they may prove void of the rewards of the life to come; and whether afflictions for this reason'come upon the wicked, in order that by correcting, they may be the means of preserving them from everlasting punishments, or whether their punishment only begins here, that, one day to receive completion, it should lead to the final torments of hell. Tlierefore, because in the midst of the divine appointments the

Job 3, human mind is closed in bv the erreat darkness of its un- — ^-^— certainty, holy men, when they see this world's prosperity to be their lot, are disquieted yaih. fearful misgivings. For they fear lest they should receive here the fruits of their labours. They fear lest Divine Justice should see in them a secret wound, and in loading them with external blessings should withhold them from the interior. But when they exactly consider, that they never do good saving that they may please God only, nor triumph in the veiy exuberance of their prosperity, then indeed they less fear hidden judgments to their hurt in their good fortune, yet they ill endure that \ good fortune, in that it impedes the interior purpose of the heart, and they reluctantly submit to the caresses of this present life, forasmuch as they are not ignorant that they are in some degree retarded thereby in their interior longing. I For honour in this world is more engrossing than the con-: tempt thereof, and the rise of prosperity weighs upon them \ more than the pressure of a hard necessity. For sometimes \ when a man is outwardly straitened by the latter, he is the ' more entirely set at liberty to fix his desire upon the interior good; but by the other the mind, while forced to yield to the will of many, is kept back from the race of its own \ desire. And hence it is that holy men are in greater dread of prosperity in this world than of adversity. For they know that while the mind is under soft and beguiling impressions, it is sometimes apt to give itself up to be drawn away after external objects. They know that oftentimes the secret thought of the heart so beguiles it, that it does not see how it is changed. And they consider too, what the eternal blessings are which they desire, and they see what a mere nothing all is that courts and smiles upon us after the manner of things temporal, and their mind bears the worse all the prosperity of this world, in proportion as it is pierced with love of heavenly happiness; and it is planted so much the more erect in contempt of the delightfulness of the present life, the more it perceives that this is beguiling it by stealth in the disregard of eternal glory. Hence when blessed Job, having his eye fixed upon the rest above, had said. The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master. He therefore adds.

2. In holy Scripture prosperity is sometimes represented by -'-^— the title of light, and this world's adversity by the name of ^^* night. Hence it is well said by the Psalmist, As is its Ps, 139, darkness, so also is its light. For as holy men thus trample Vuig. upon the prosperity of this state by contemning it, as also they sustain its adverse fortune by trampling upon it, by an exceeding highmindedness laying under their feet alike the good and the ill of the world, they declare, As its darkness, so also is its light. As though they said in plain words, * as its griefs do not force down the resoluteness of our fixed mind, so neither can its caresses corrupt the same.' But since these last, as we have said above, though they fail to lift up the mind of the righteous, do yet cause them disquietude; holy men, who know themselves to be in misery in this wearisome exile, shrink from shining in its prosperity. Hence it is well said at this time, Where/ore is light given to one that is in miseiy? lor ' light is given to those in misery,' when they, who, by contemplating things above, see themselves to be in misery in this our pilgrimage, have the brightness of transitory prosperity bestowed upon them; and when they are deploring giievously, that they are slow in returning to their country, they are over and above constrained to bear the burthen of honours. The love of eternal things is crushing them, and at the same time the glory of temporal things smiles upon them. When these reflect what the things are, which keep them down below, and what those are that they see not of the things above, what those are that set them up on earth, and what they have lost of heavenly blessings, they are stung with regret of their prosperity. For though they see that they are never wholly overwhelmed thereby, yet they anxiously consider that their thoughts are divided between the love of God, and the gifts of His hand; and hence when he says, JVherq/bre is light given to him that is in misery? he subjoins forthwith. And life nntn the bitter in soul?

3. For all the Elect are bitter in soul, in that either they iij, never cease to punish themselves by weeping for the transgressions they have committed, or they afflict themselves with regrets, that banished here far from the face of their

Job 3, Creator, they are not yet admitted to the bliss of the eternal p-^— ^ — country; and of their hearts it is well said by Solomon, The 14, 10. heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger shall not intermeddle xoith his joy. For the hearts of the reprobate are likewise in bitterness, for that they are afflicted even by their very bad passions themselves. Yet they know not of this very bitterness, because having voluntarily blinded their own eyes, they cannot estimate what they are undergoing; but on the contrary the heart of a good man knoweth its own bitterness, for it knows the hard condition of this place of exile, wherein it is cast forth to be torn in pieces; and it sees how tranquil is all that it has lost, how troubled the condition it has fallen into. Yet this embittered heart is one day brought back to its own joy, and a stranger shall not intermeddle therewith, in that he, who now casts himself forth without, away from this sorrow of the heart, in his aims, will then remain shut out from, its interior festival.

4. They then that are in bitterness of soul, long to be wholly dead to the world, that, as they themselves aim at nothing in this present world, so they may not henceforth be fettered by the world with any ties; and it very often happens that a person has already ceased to retain the world in his affections, but the world still ties down that person by its business, and he indeed is already dead to the world, but the world is not yet dead to him. For in a certain sense the > D/ de- ^^'01'^^) still alive, regards^ him, so long as it strives to carry sires \^[^^ away in its actions, when he is bent another way. below) Hence, since Paul both himself utterly contemned the world, and saw that he was become such an one as this world could not possibly desire, having burst the bonds of this life, and Gal. 6 being henceforth at liberty, he rightly exclaims. The world ^^- is crucified to me, and I unto the world. For ^ the world was crucified to him.,' because being now dead to his affections it was no longer an object of love to him; and he had likewise ' crucified himself to the world,' in that he studied to shew himself thereto in such a light, that, as though dead, he might never be coveted by it. For if there be a dead person, and one alive in the same place, though the dead sees not the living, yet the living person does see the dead, but if both are dead, neither can possibly see the other. Thus he, wlio no longer loves the world, but yet even against his will Book is loved by the world, though he himself being as it were ^- dead sees nothing of the world, yet the world not being dead sees him; but if he neither himself retains the world in his affections, nor again is retained in the affections of the world, then both are mutually dead to one another; in that whereas neither sects the other, it is as if the dead heeded not the dead. Therefore, because Paul neither sought tlie glory of the world, nor was himself sought out by the same, he glories both in being himself crucified to the world, and in the world beingcrucified to him. Now because there are many that desire this, who yet do not altogether rise up to the very extreme point of such a state of deadness, they may well lament and say; Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul. For ' life is given to those in bitterness,' when the glory of this world is bestowed upon the sad and sorrowful, in which same life they do not spare themselves the chastening of most urgent fear; for though they do not themselves hold to the world, yet they still dread being such as the world holds to; and except they were living to it in some slight degree, it would never surely love them for their serviceableness to its interests; just as the sea keeps living bodies in her own bosom, but dead ones she forthwith casts out from herself It proceeds; Ver. 21. Which long for death, but it cometh not, 5. For they desire to mortify themselves wholly, and to be iv. entirely extinct of the life of temporal glor}', but by the secret appointments of God they are often forced either to take the lead in command, or to busy themselves with dignities imposed on them, and in these circumstances they miceasingly look for a perfect mortification, but this expected death coraeth not; in that the use of them is still alive to temporal glory even against their will, though they submit to that glor)' from the fear of God, and while they inwardly retain their aim after piety, they outwardly discharge the fimctions of their station, that they should neither quit their perfection in their inward pui-})ose, nor set themselves against the dispensations of their Creator in a spirit of pride. For by a marvellous pitifulness of the Divine Nature it comes to pass, that, when he, who aims at contemplation with a

/ 246 Holy desires grow by the check of labour for others.

Job 3, perfect heart, is busied with human affairs, his perfect mind

— 1 — '— at once profits many that are weaker, and in whatever degree he sees himself to be imperfect, he rises therefi'om more perfect to the crowning point of humility. For sometimes by the very same means, whereby holy men suffer loss in their own longings, they bear off the larger profits by the

^ conversion of others, for, while it is not permitted them to give themselves thereto as they desire, it is their grateful office to carry off along with themselves others, whom they are associated with. And so it is effected by a wonderful

\ dispensation of pity, that by the same means, whereby they

» dd- seem to themselves to be the more undone^, they rise tionem ^' Now sometimes they fail to attain the desires, that they have conceived, for this reason, that by the very interposing of the delay, they may be made to expand to the same objects with an enlarged embrace of the mind, and by a striking dispensation it is effected that that, which if fulfilled might perhaps become thin and poor, being kept back, gains grow til. For they desire so to mortify themselves that, if it may be vouchsafed, they may already perfectly behold the face of their Creator, but their desire is delayed that it may gain increase, and it is fostered in the bosom of its slow advancement that it may grow larger. Hence the Bride,

Cant..3, panting with desire of her Bridegroom, justly cries out. By night on my bed I sought hint, whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. The Spouse hides himself when He is sought, that not being found He may be sought for with the more ardent affection, and she in seeking is withheld, that she cannot find Him, in order that being rendered of larger capacity by the delay she undergoes, she may one day find a thousandfold what she sought. Hence when blessed Job said. Which long for deaths but it cometh not; that he might the more minutely particularize this very desire of those seekers, he thereupon adds;

And dig for it as for hid treasures. V. 7. For all men that seek for a treasure by digging, the deeper they have begun to go, kindle to the work with the greater energy; for in the same proportion that they reckon themselves to be now, at this moment, a])proaching the Book buried troasm*e, they strive with hicreased efibrts in digging '— for it. They, then, that perfectly desire the moriilication of themselves, seek it as they that dig for hid treasures, lor the nearer they are brought to their object, the more ardent they shew themselves in the work. Therefore they never Hag in their labour, but increase the more in the exercise thereof; for that in the degree, that they reckon on their reward as now nearer at hand, they spend themselves the more gladly in the work. Hence Paul says well to some, that were seeking the hid treasure of the eternal inheritance, Not forsaking neh.io, the assembling of ourselves together as the manner of some is; but consoling^ one another, and so much the more as ye see^^-fonthe day approaching. For to give consolation to the labourer, is to continue labouring in like manner to him, the sight of a fellow labourer being the alleviation of our own labour, as, when a companion joins us in a journey, the way itself is not shortened, yet the toilsomeness of the way is alleviated by the society of a companion. Therefore, whereas Paul looked for their consoling one another in their labours, he added these words, and so much the more as ye see the day approaching. As though he said, * let your labour increase the more, that now the reward of your labour itself is nigh at hand.' As if he expressed himself in plain words, ' Do ye seek a treasure? Then ye should dig for it with the greater ardour, that ye have by digging reached by this time close to the gold ye were in quest of.'

8. Though this, that he says, fVhich long for death attd it Cometh not; and dig for it as for hid treasures, may be taken in another sense also. For in that we cannot perfectly die to the world, unless we bury ourselves within the invisible depths of our own heart from all things visible, they that long for the mortifying of themselves, are well comi)ared to those that dig for a treasure. For we die to the world by means of an unseen wisdom, of which it is said by Solomon, It' thou seckest her as silver, and diggest for her as /or ///</ Prov. -2, treasures. Since wisdom lieth not on the surface of things, for it is deep in the unseen. And we tlien lay hold nn the mortification of ourselves, in attainnig wisilom, if, reliuijuishing visible things, we bury ourselves in the invisible; if wo

248 Joy of being hurled in divine Contemplation. Job 3, so seek for her in tlie digging of the heart, that every ima-

'- — gination, which the mind conceives, of an earthly nature, she puts from her with the hand of holy discernment, and acquaints herself with the treasure of virtue which was hidden from her. For she soon finds a treasure in herself, if she thrust from her that heap of earthly thoughts, which lay as a wretched load upon her. Now because he describes death coveted as a treasure, he rightly subjoins;

Ver. 22. Which rejoice exceedingly and are glady when they can Jin d the grave. vi. 9. For as the grave is that place wherein the body is buried, so heavenly contemplation is a kind of spiritual grave wherein the soul is buried. For in a certain sense we still live to this world, when in spirit we roam abroad therein. But we are buried in the grave as dead, when being mortified in things without, we secrete ourselves in the depths of interior contemplation. And therefore holy men never cease to mortify themselves with the sword of the sacred Word to the importunate calls of earthly desires, to the throng of unprofitable cares, and to the din of obstreperous tumults, and they bury themselves within before God's presence in the bosom of the mind. Hence it is well said by the

Ps. SI, Psalmist, And Thou shall hide them in the secret of Thy presence from the strife of tongues. Which though it be not until afterwards fully brought to pass, is yet even now in a great measure accomplished, when with the feeling of delight they are caught away into the inward parts from the strife of temporal desires, so that, whilst their mind wholly expands in every part to the love of God, it is not rent and torn by any useless anxiety. Hence it is that Paul had seen those disciples as dead, and as it were buried in the grave Col. 3, by contemplation, to whom he said, Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. He, then, that seeks for death rejoices when he finds the grave; for whoso desires to mortify himself, is exceeding joyful on finding the rest of contemplation; that being dead to the world he may lie hid, and bury himself in the bosom of interior love from all the disquietudes of external things.

10. But since in addition to this, that he speaks of a treasure being dug up, the finding of a grave is further introduced, it is needful that our mind's eye sliould keep this Book in view, that the ancients buried their dead with their wealth.

He, then, that seeks for a treasure, * rejoices when he has found the grave,' in that when we, in quest of wisdom, turn the pages of Holy Writ, when we trace out the examples of those that have gone before us, we as it were derive joy from the grave, for we find the mind's wealth among the dead, who, because they' are perfectly dead to this world, rest in J^^^J^*"^^ secret with, their riches beside them. And so he is made 'for they rich by the grave, who, following the example of the righ-^ °' teous, is raised up in the excellency of contemplation. But when he asks, saying, Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery? he intimates the reason for which he ventures to put such a question, by saying,

Ver. 23. Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and luhom God hath encompassed with darkness?

11. For * man's way is hid to him,' in that though he vii. already takes cognizance of the kind* of hie that he is lead-'' quailing, he does not yet know to what issue it tends. Though his affections are now fixed on things above, though he seeks them with all his longings, he is yet ignorant whether he shall persevere in the same longings. For forsaking our sins we strive after righteousness, and we know whence we are come, but we know nothing whereunto we may arrive. We know what we were yesterday, but we cannot tell what we may chance to be to-morrow. * Man's way then is hid to him,' in that he so sets the foot of his labour, that, this notwithstanding, he can never foresee the issue of the accomplishment thereof.

12. Now there is also another * hiding of our way.' For there aie times when we are ignorant, whether the very things which we believe we do aright, are rightly done in the strict Judge's eye. For, as we have also said a long way above, it often hai)i)ens that an action of ours, which is cause for our condemnation, passes with us for the aggrandizement of virtue. Often by the same act, wliereby we think to a])pease the Judge, He is urged to anger, when favoura])le. As Solomon bears witness, saying, llierc is a Prov way nhich seemeth right unto a man; hut the end thereof ^*y ^2. are the ways qf death. Hence, whilst holy men are getting

Job 3, the masteiy over their evil habits, their very good practices

'- — even become an object of dread to them, lest, when they desire to do a good action, they be decoyed by a semblance of the thing, lest the baleful canker of corruption lurk under the fair appearance of a goodly colour. For they knovr that they are still charged with the burthen of corruption, and cannot exactly discern the things that be good. And when they bring before their eyes the standard of the final Judgment, there are times when they fear the \^ry things which they approve in themselves; and indeed they are in mind wholly intent on the concerns of the interior, yet alarmed from uncertainty about their doings, they know not whither they are going. Hence after he had said, Wherefore is light given to one that is in misery? it is with propriety added, to a man whose way is hid? As though the words were, ' Why has that man this life's success for his portion, who knows not of his course of conduct, in what esteem it is held by his Judge. And it is rightly subjoined, And whom God hath encompassed with darkness. For man is ^ encompassed with darkness,' since howsoever he may burn with heavenly longings, he is ignorant how it goes with him in the interior. And he is in great fear lest aught concerning himself should meet him in the Judgment, which is now hidden from himself in the aspirations of holy fervour. ' Man is encompassed with darkness,' in that he is closed in by the clouds of his own ignorance. Is not that man ^ encompassed with darkness,' who most often neither remembers the past, nor finds out the future, and scarce knows the present.? That wise man had seen himself

Wisd.o, tobe encompassed with darkness, when he said. And with labour do we find the things that are before us; but the things that are in heaven who shall search out?

The Prophet beheld himself * encompassed with' such ' darkness,' when he was unable to discover the interior Ps. 18, springs of His inmost economy, saying. He made darkness His secret place. For the Author of our being, in that, when we were cast out into this place of exile. He took from us the light of His vision, buried Himself from our e}'es as it were ' in the secret place of darkness.' ^^"^ 13. Now as often as we attentively regard this same dark- ness of our blind estate, we stir xm the mind to lamentation. Book For it weeps for the state of blindness, which it is under without, if it remember in humihty that it i's bereft of light in the interior, and when it looks to the darkness which suiTounds it, it is wrung with ardent longing for the inward brightness, and rent with thought's whole effort, and that light above, which as soon as created it relinquished, now debarred, it makes the object of its search. Whence it very often happens that that radiance of inward joy bursts out amidst those very tears of piety; and that the mind, which had lain torpid in a state of blindness, being fed with sighs, receives strength to gaze at the interior brightness. Whence it rightly proceeds,