Ver. 12. Now a hidden word was spoken to me. xxviii. 50. For the invisible Son is called ' the hidden Word,' John 1, concerning Whom John saith, In the heginning teas the ^' Word. Wliich he the same person teaches to be ' hidden' in that he adds, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. But this ' hidden Word' is delivered to the minds of the Elect, when the power of the Only-Begotten Son is made manifest to believers. By ' the hidden word' we may also understand the communication of inward Inspiration, 1 John concerning which it is said by John, His anointing teachelh ' you of all tilings. Which same inspiration on being communicated to the mind of man lifts it up, and putting down all temporal interests inflames it with eternal desires, that nothing may any longer yield it satisfaction but the things that are above, and that it may look down upon all, that, from human corru])tion, is in a state of uproar below. And so to hear ' the hidden word' is to receive in the heart the utterance of the Holy S|)irit. Which same indeed can never be known save by him, by whom it may be possessed. And hence it is said by the voice of Truth concerning Johui4,this hidden utterance, And I will pray the Father, and He 16.17.
Real aeci-et teaching of the Holy Spirit. 270 shall give you another Cow/orler, that He may abide uilh Hook you for ever; even The Spirif of Truth, ichom I he uorld ^' cannot receive. For as thai ' Couiiorter,' after the Ascension of tlie Mediator, being another Consoler of mankind, is in Himself invisible, so He inflames eacli one that He lias filled to long after the invisible things. And becanse worldly hearts are set upon the things that are seen alone, the world receiveth Him not, because it doth not rise up to tlio love of the things that are unseen. For worldly minds, in proportion as they spread themselves out in interests without, contract the bosom of the heart against the admission of Him. And because out of mankind there are i^^ indeed, who, being purified from the pollution of earthly desires, are opened by that purification to the receiving of the Holy Spirit, this word is called ' a hidden word,' since, surely, there are particular persons that receive that in the heart, which the generality of men know nothing of. Or truly this same inspii'ation of the Holy Spirit is ' a hidden word,' in that it may be felt, but cannot be expressed by the noise of speech. When, then, the inspiration of God lifts up the soul without noise, ' a hidden word' is heard, in that the utterance of the Spirit sounds silently in the ear of the heart. And hence it is added;
And mine ear as it were stealthily received the veins of the whispering thereof.
51. The ear of the heart ' receives stealthily the veins of xxix. heavenly whispering,' in that both in a moment and in secret the inspired soul is made 'to know the subtle quality of the inward utterance. For except it bury itself from external objects of desire, it fails to enter into the internal things. It is both hidden thai it may hear, and it hears that it may be hidden; in that at one and the same time being withdrawn from the visible world its eyes are upon the invisible, and being replenished with the unseen, it entertains a perlect contempt for what is visible. But it is to be observed that he does not say, Mine ear received as it were by stealth the whispering thereof, but the veins of the ithispering thereof; for ' the whispering of the hidden word' is the very utterance of inward Inspiration itself; but ' the veins of the whispering' is the name for the sources of the occasions whereby that
Job 4, inspiration itself is conveyed to tlie mind. For it is as if It '■ — opened ' the veins of its whispering,' when Ciod secretly communicates to us in what ways He enters into the ear of our understandings. Tiiusat one time He pierces us with love, at another time with terror. Sometimes He shews us how little the present scene of things is, and lifts up our hearts to desire the eternal world, sometimes He first points to the things of eternity, that these of time may after that grow worthless in our eyes. Sometimes He discloses to us our own evil deeds, and tlience draws us on even to the point of feeling son"ow for the evil deeds of others also. Sometimes He presents to our eyes the evil deeds of others, and reforms us from our own wickedness, pierced with a wonderful feeling of compunction. And so to ' hear the veins of Divine whisperinor by stealth,' is to be made to know the secret methods of divine Inspiration, at once gently and secretly.
52. Though we may interpret whether ' the whispering' or ' the veins of whispering' in another way yet. For he that ' whispers" is speaking in secret, and he does not give out, but imitates a voice. We, therefore, so long as we are beset by tiie corruptions of the flesh, in no wise behold the brightness of the Divine Power, as it abides unchangeable in itself, in that the eye of our weakness cannot endure that which shines above us with intolerable lustre from the ray of His Eternal Being. And so when the Almighty shews Himself to u? by the chinks of contemplation, He does not speak to us, but whispers, in that though He does not fully develope Himself, yet something of Himself He does reveal to the mind of man. But then He no longer w hispers at all, but speaks, when His appearance is manifested to us in certainty. It is hence tliat Truth saith in the Gospel, Johnie, J ^j^^^ii ^j^^^^^. y^^^ plainly of the Father. Hence John saith, 1 John For ice sliull see Him as He if;. Hence Paul saith, Tlien
I'cor. ■^ficll I knoir ereii as also I ai/i knouu. Now in this present 13, 12. time, the Divine whispering has as many veins for our ears as the works of creation, which the Divine Being Himself is Lord of; for while we view all things that are created, we are lifted up in admiration of the Creator. For as water that flows in a slender stream is sought by being bored for through veins, with a view to increase it, and as it pours forth the more copiously, in proportion as it finds the veins Book more open, so we, whilst we heedfully gather the knowledge '- of the Divine Being from the contemplation of His creation, as it were open to ourselves the ' veins of His whispering,' in that by the things that we see have been made, we are led to marvel at the excellency of the Maker, and by the objects that are in public view, that issues forth to us, which is hidden in concealment. For He bursts out to us in a kind of sound as it were, whilst He displays His works to be considered by us, wherein He betokens Himself in a measure, in that He shews how Incomprehensible He is. Therefore, because we cannot take thought of Him as He deserves, we hear not His voice, yea, scarcely His whispering. For because we are not equal to form a full and perfect estimate of the very things that are created, it is rightly said, 3Iine ear as it were by stealth received the veins of tvhispering; in that being cast forth from the delights of paradise, and visited with the punishment of blindness, we scarcely take in ' the veins of whispering;' since His very marvellous works themselves we consider but hastily and slightly. But we must bear in mind, that in proportion as the soul being lifted up contemplates His excellency, so being held back it shrinks from His righteous perfectness^'rectitu- And hence it is rightly added;
Ver. 13. In the horror of a vision of the nigJit.
53. The horror of a vision of the night is the shuddering xxx. of secret contemplation. For the higher the elevation, whereat the mind of man contemplates the things that are eternal, so much the more, terror-struck at her temporal deeds, she shrinks with dread, in that she thoroughly discovers herself guilty, in proportion as she sees herself to have been out of harmony with that light, which shines in the midst of darkness^ above her, and then it happens that the mind being - interenlightened entei'tains the greater fear, as it more clearly sees ™"^^* by how much it is at variance with the rule of truth. And she, that before seemed as it were more secure in seeing nothing, trembles with sore affright from her very own proficiency itself. Though, whatever her progress in virtue, she does not as yet compass any clear insight into eternity, but still sees with the indistinctness of a certain shadowy imagining. And hence this same is called a vision of the night. For as
28*2 Contemplation. Sleep medfor bodily death ^ for Job 4, we have also said above, in the night we see doubtlully, but ^^- in the day we see steadily. Thcrelore because, as regards the contemplating the ray of the interior Sun, the cloud of our corruption interposes itself, nor does the unchangeable Light burst forth such as It is to the weak eyes of our mind, we as it were still behold God ' in a vision of the night,' since most surely we go darkling under a doubtful sight. Yet though the mind may have conceived but a distant idea concerning Him, yet in contemplation of His Greatness, she recoils with dread, amd is filled with a greater awe, in that she feels herself unequal even to the very skirts of the view of Him. And falling back upon herself, she is drawn to Him with closer bonds of love. Whose marvellous sweetness, being unable to bear, she has but just tasted of under an indistinct vision. But, because she never attains to such an height of elevation, unless the importunate and clamorous throng of carnal desires be first brought under governance, it is rightly added,
Wlitni deep sleep falleth upon men. xxxi. •'^4. Whoever is bent to do the things which are of the world, is, as it were, awake, but he, that seeking inward rest eschews the riot of this world, sleeps as it were. But fast we must know that, in holy Scripture, sleep, when put figuratively, is understood in three senses. For sometimes we have expressed by sleep the death of the flesh, sometimes the stupefaction of neglect, and sometimes tranquillity of life, upon the earthly desires being trodden underfoot. Thus, by the designation of sleep or slumbering the death of the 1 Thess. flesh is implied; as when Paul says. And I wonld not ' ■ have you to be ignorant, hrethreu, concerning them trhich ver. 14. are asleep. And soon after. Even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him. Again, by sleep is designated the stupefaction of neglect; as where it is said Bom. 13, by that same Paul, Now it is high time to awake out i^Cor ^ sleep. And again, Aiaake, ye righteous\ and sin not. 15, 34. By sleep too is.represented tranquillity of life, when the ^' carnal desires are trodden down; as where these words are uttered by the voice of the spouse in the Song of Cant. 5, Songs, / sleep, but my heart waketh. For, in truth, in proportion as the holy mind withholds itself from the turmoil of mental quiet, for listless inactivity. 283 temporal desire, the more thoroughly it attains to know the Book things of the interior, and is the more quick and awake to '- inward concerns, the more it withdraws itself out of sight from external disquietude. And this is well represented by Jacob sleeping on his journey. He put a stone to his head and slept. He beheld a ladder from the earth fixed in heaven, the Lord resting upon the ladder, Angels also ascending and descending. For to ' sleep on a journey' is, in the passage of this present life, to rest from the love of things temporal. To sleep on a journey is, in the course of our passing days, to close those eyes of the mind to the desire of visible objects, which the seducer opened to the first of mankind, saying. For God doth know that in the day ye eat Gen. 3, thereof, then your eyes shall be opened. And hence it is soon afterwards added. Site took of the fruit thereof, and did yer.e, 7. eat, and gave also unto lier husband tvith her, and he did eat. And the eyes of them both were opened. For sin opened the eyes of concupiscence, which innocence kept shut. But to ' see Angels ascending and descending,' is to mark the citizens of the land above, either with what love they cleave to their Creator above them, or with what fellow-feeling in charity they condescend to aid our infirmities.
55. And it is very deserving of observation, that he that ' lays his head upon a stone,' is he who sees the Angels in his sleep, surely because that same person by resting from external works penetrates internal truths, who with mind intent, which is the governing principle of man, looks to the imitating of his Redeemer. For to ' lay the head upon a stone' is to cleave to Christ in iBind. Since they that are withdrawn from this life's sphere of action, yet whom no love transports above, may have sleep, but can never see the Angels, because they despise to keep their head upon a stone. For there are some, who fly indeed the business of the world, but exercise themselves in no virtues. These, indeed, sleep from stupefaction, not from serious design, and therefore they never behold the things of the interior, because they have laid their head, not upon a stone, but upon the earth. Whose lot it most frequently is, that in proportion as they rest more secure from outward actions, the more amply they are gathering in themselves from idleness an uproar of unclean thoughts. And thus under the like-
Job 4, lu-ss of Judaea the Prophet bewails the soul stupefied by - — '■ — indolence, where he savs, T/ie advermries saw her, and did 7. mock at her sahbalhs. For by the precept of the Law there is a cessation from outward work upon the Sabbath Day. Tlius her ' enemies looking on mock at her sabbaths,' when evil spirits pervert the very waste hours of vacancy to iinlawlid thoughts. So that every soul, in proportion as it is supposed to be devoted to the service of God, by being removed from external action, the more it drudges to their tyranny, by entertaining unlawful thoughts. But good men, who sleep to the works of the world, not from inertness, but from virtue, are more laborious in their sleep than they would be aAvakc. For herein, that by abandoning they are made superior to this world's doings, they daily fight against themselves, maintaining a brave conflict, that the mind be not rendered dull by neglect, nor, subdued by indolence, cool down to the harbouring of impure desires, nor in good desires themselves be more full of fervour than is right, nor by sparing itself under the pretext of discretion, may slacken its endeavour after perfection. These are the things she is employed withal: she both wholly withdraws herself from the restless appetite of this world, and gives over the turmoil of earthly actions, and in pursuit of tranquillity, bent on virtuous attainments, she sleeps waking. For she is never led on to contemplate internal things, unless she be heedfully withdrawn from those, which entwine themselves about her without. And it is hence that Truth declares by His Matt. 6, own mouth, No man can serve tno masters. Hence Paul 2^,^. saith, No man iJiat warreth enlanijlelJi Jiimself nith the 2, 4. affairs of this life, that he may please him that hath chosen him to be a. soldier. Hence the Lord charges us by the Ps. 46, Prophet, saying, De stilly and knoic that I am the Lord. ly^jjate Therefore, because inward knowledge is not cognisable by *«'.«' us, except there be a rest from outward embarrasments, the season of the hidden word, and of the whisperings of God, is in this place rightly set forth, when it is said. In the horror of a vision of the niyltt, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in that truly our mind is never caught away after the force and power of inward contemplation, unless it be first carefully lulled to rest from all agitation of earthly desires. But the human mind, lilted on high by the engine as it were of its contemplation, in proportion as it sees things higher above Book itself, the more terribly it trembles in itself. And hence it is '—
Ver. 14. Fear came upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to shake.
bQ. What is denoted by ' bones' but strong deeds? Ofxxxii. which also it is said by the Prophet, He keepeth all their 'P^- si, bones. And it often happens that the things which men do, they reckon to be of some account, because they know not, how keen is the discernment of His inward sifting; but when, transported on the wings of contemplation, they behold things above, in some sort they melt away from the security they felt in tlieir presumption, and quake in sight of God the more, in proportion as they do not even reckon their excellences fit for the searching eye of Him, Whom they behold. For it is hence that he, who had gained ground in doing strong deeds, being lifted up by the Spirit, exclaimed, All my bones'Ps.35, shall say, Lord, who is like unfa Thee? As though he said, ' My flesh is without words, in that my infirmities are wholly silent before Thee, but my bones sing the praises of Thy greatness. In that the very things, which I thought to be strong in me, tremble at the view of Thee.' It is hence that Manoah shrinking at the vision of the Angel, says, fVe shall surely die, Judg. for we have seen The Lord. Whom his wife immediately com- 23.' forts, with these words, If the Lord were pleased to kill us, He would not have received a burnt-offering, and a meat-offering at our hand. But how is it that the man becomes fearful at the vision of the Angel, and the woman bold; but that as often as heavenly things are shewn us, the spirit indeed is shaken with aflfright, yet hope has confidence? For hope lifts itself to dare greater feats from the same cause, whereby the spirit is troubled, in that it sees the first the things that arc above. Therefore because, when the mind, being lifted on high, beholds the higher depths of the secrets of heaven, all that is most solid of human strength trembles, it is well said here, Fear came upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. As though it were expressed in plain words; ' When I perceived the secrets of inmost subtlety, in that quarter where I thought myself in my own eyes strong, I faltered in the siglit of the Judge.' For contemplating
Job 3, the strictness of Divine Justice, we justly fear even for the
: — very works themselves, which we flattered ourselves we had so done that they were strong. For our uprightness, when drawn parallel to the inward rule, if it meets with strict judgment, comes cross, with many sinuosities of its windings, to the inward uprightness. And hence, when Paul both perceived that he had the bones of the several virtues, and yet that these same bones trembled under the searching 1 Cor. scrutiny, he saith, But with me it is a very small thing **' ■ ^ that I should be judged of you, or of mau^s judgment; yea, I judge not mine own self; for I know nothing against myself. Yet because, when the ' veins' of the divine ' whispering' were heard, these same bones quaked, he thereupon added. For I am not hereby justified; but he that judgelh me is the Lord. As though he were to say, ' I remember that I have done right things, yet I presume not on my merits; for our life is brought to the scrutiny of Him, under Whom even the bones of our strength are dismayed.
57. But when the mind is suspended in contemplation, when, exceeding the narrow limits of the flesh, with all the power of her ken, she strains to find something of the freedom of interior security, she cannot for long rest standing above herself, because though the spirit carries her on high, yet the flesh sinks her down below by the yet remaining weight of her corruption. And hence it is added,
Ver. 15. And, as a spirit passed before my /'ace, the hair of my flesh stood up. xxxiii 58. ' A spirit passes before our face,' when we are brought to the knowledge of invisible things, and yet see these same not stedfastly, but with a hasty glance. For not even in the sweetness of inward contemplation does the mind remain fixed for long, in that being made to j-ecoil by the very immensity of the hght it is called back to itself. And when it tastes that inwai'd sweetness, it is on fire with love, it longs to mount above itself, yet it falls back in broken state to the darkness of its frailty. And advancing in high j)erfection, it sees that it cannot yet see that which it ardently loves, which yet it would not love ardently did it not in some sort see the same. Thus the spirit is not stationary, but 'passes by;' because our contemplation both discloses to us, that pant iheieaftev, the heavenly light, and forthwith Book conceals the same from us failing from weakness. And '- — because in this life, whatever degree of virtue a man may have advanced to, he still feels the sting of corruption, /^or Wisd.
the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthy ' ' tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things; therefore it is rightly added, Tlie hair of my Jlesh stood up.
59. For ' the hairs of the flesh' are all the superfluities of human corruption. ' The hairs of the flesh' are the imaginations of the former life, which we so cut away from the mind, that we let no grief for the loss of them disturb our peace. And it is well said by Moses, Let the Levites shave l^iKimh. ^all the hairs of their Jiesh. For a ' Levite' is rendered ly'^jj^^ ' taken.' And thus it behoves the ' Levites' to shave all
' the hairs of the flesh,' in that he who is ' taken' into the divine ministrations, ought to shew himself clear of all imaginations of the flesh before the eyes of God, that the mind never put forth unlawful thoughts, and so deform the fair appearance of the soul as it were by sprouting hairs. But whatever perfection of holy living may have raised the condition of any man, yet there still springs up to him from his old state of life somewhat to bear. And hence the same hairs of the Levites are commanded to be shaven, not to be plucked out, for the roots still remain in the flesh to the shaven hairs, and grow again to be again cut off, in that while we are to use great diligence in cutting off all rank thoughts, yet they never can be wholly and entirely cut off. For the flesh is ever engendering a rank produce, which the spirit should ever be cutting away with the knife of heedfulness. Yet it is then that we see these things with more exactness, when we penetrate into the heights of contemplation; and hence it is rightly said. Whilst a spirit passed before my face, the hair of tny Jlesh stood up.
60. For when the human mind is lifted up on the tower of contemplation, it the more cruelly torments itself for its superfluities, in proportion as it perceives that which it loves to be infinitely refined; and when it beholds that beautiful Being, which it longs for, above its own height, it severely judges every thing infirm in itself, which it bore
•288 Carnal nature sees only the visible.
Job 4, with tianquillity before. Therefore wlien ' the Spirit passelh
'— by,' ' the hairs quake,' in that before the power of compunction, all rank thoughts flee away, that nought that is loose, nouglit that is dissipated, any longer gives pleasure, for severity of inward visitings kindles the inspired soul even against its own self; and when that which riscth up in the heart of an unlawful kind, is cut away with unintennitted strictness, it veiy often happens that the invigorated soul enters into its ray of contemplation with a somewhat larger range, and almost arrests the spirit which was ' passing by.' Yet does not this same lingering of contemplation fully discover the force of the Divine nature, for its vastness transcends all human powers thus enlarged and elevated. And hence it is well added;
'V.thus Ver. IC. ' There stood a certain one, hut I could not discern the form thereof.
xxxiv. 61. For we do not speak of a certain one, saving surely in the case of him, whom we are either unwilling or unable to express. Now with what feeling it is here said a certain one, is clearly set forth, in that it immediately conies in, but I could not discern the form thereof. For the human soul, being by the sin of the first of mankind banished from the joys of paradise, lost the light of the invisible, and poured itself out entire in the love of the visible, and was darkened in the interior sight, in proportion as it was dissipated without, to the deformment of itself. Whence it comes to pass that it knows nothing, saving the things that it acquaints itself with by the palpable touch, so to say, of the bodily eyes. For man, who, had he been willing to have kept the commandment, would even in his flesh have been a spiritual being, by sinning was rendered even in soul carnal, so as to imagine such things only as he derives to the soul through the images of bodily substances. For body is the ])roperty of heaven, earth, water, animals, and all the visible things, which he unceasingly beholds; and while the delighted mind wholly precipitates itself into these, it waxes gross, loses the fineness of the inward sense; and whereas it is now no longer able to erect itself to things on high, it willingly lies prostrate in its weakness in things below, llut when with marvellous efforts it strives to rise up from the same, it
Man learns somewhat of God from his own soul. -289 is great indeed, if the soul, thrusting aside the bodily form, Book be brought to the knowledge of itself, so as to think of itself — ^^ without a bodily figure, and by thus thinking of itself to prepare itself a pathway to contemplate the substance of Eternity \
62. Now in this way it shews itself to its own eyes as a^, kind of ladder, whereby in ascending from outward things tol pass into itself, and from itself to tend unto its Maker. Forj when the mind quits bodily images, entering into itself, it mounts up to no mean height; for though the soul be incorporeal, yet because she is incorporate with the body, she is known by that property of hers, which is confined within the local bounds of the flesh. And whereas she forgets things known, acquaints herself with such as are unknown, remembers what has been consigned to oblivion, entertains mirth after sadness, is adjudged to punishment^ after joy; she herself i addicishews by her own diversity in herself, how widely she is*""" removed from the Substance of eternal Unchangeableness, Which is always the same, even as It Is; Which every where present, every where invisible, every where whole and entire, every where incomprehensible, is by the longing mind discerned without seeing, heard without uncertainty, taken in without motion, touched without bodily substance, held without locality. Now when the mind that is used to corporeal objects represents to itself this same Substance, it is loaded with the phantasms of divers images. And whilst it banishes these fi'om the eyes of its attention with the hand of discernment, making every thing give place thereto, it at last beholds It in some degree. And if it does not as yet apprehend what It is, it has surely learnt what It is not. And so because the mind is carried away into unaccustomed ground, when it pries into the Essence of the Deity, it is lightly said here, A certain one stood, but I could no! discern the form thereof.
63. And it is well said, it stood, still; for every created thing, in that it is made out of nothing, and of itself tends to nothing, has not the property to stand, but to run to an end. But a creature endowed with reason, by this very circumstance, that it is created after the image of its Maker, is fixed
•2JX) God stamh ever still, hi/t is seen as in passing.
Job 4, that it sliould not pass into nothing. Now no irrational
' — creature is ever fixed, but only, so long as, by the service of its appearing, it is comi)leting the form and fashion of the universe, it is delayed in passing away. For though heaven and earth abide henceforth and for ever, still they are at this present time of themselves hastening on to nought; yet for the use of those, whom they serve, they remain to be changed for the better. To ' stand' then is the attribute of the Creator alone, through Whom all things pass away, Himself never passing away, and in Whom sorae things are held fast, that they should not pass away. Hence our Redeemer, because the fixed state of His Divine Nature could not be comprehended by the Innuan mind, shewed this to us as it were in passing, by coming to us, by being created, born, dead, buried, by vising again, and returning to the heavenly Matt, realms. Which He well shadowed out in the Gospel bv the
Luke' enlightening the blind man, to whom when passing on He
18, 40. vouchsafed a hearing, but it was standing still that He healed his eyes. For by the economy of His Human Natiu'e He had His passing on, but the standing by the power of His Divine Nature, in that He is every where present. Thus the Lord is said to hear the complaints of our blind condition in passing, in that being made Man He has compassion on human misery; but He restores light to the eyes standing still, in that He enlightens the darkness of our frail state by the efficacy of His Divine Nature. It is well then that, after it has been said, T/iejt a spirit passed be/ore my face, it should be added, hut I cotild not discern the form thereof. As if it were in plain words, ' Him, Whom 1 perceived in passing, I discovered never to pass.' He then that ' passes'* is the same as He that ' stands still.' He 'passes,' in that when known He cannot be detained. He ' stands still,' in that, so far as He is known, He is seen to be imchangeable. Therefore, because He, That is ever the Same, is seen by a hasty glance, God at the same time appears both passing and standing still. Or surely His ' standing' is His never varying with
Ex.3, ^T\V change; as it is said to Moses, / AM THAT I AM.
'^', And as James represents Him, saying, i'i'ith Whom is no
17. rariahlenesN, Neither shadotr of tnrtiing. Now whereas every mui, that apprehends something of the Eternal Being by
I'lic Imcif/e of The Father. Tlic Sinrif Mir/hfi/ and yet gnifh'. 201 contemplation, beholds the Same ihrouj^h His coetenial Book Image, it is rightly subjoined;
An image ivas he/ore mine eyes.
64. For the Image of the Father is the Sou, as Moses xxxv. teaches in the case of man at his creation; So God created Gen. i, man in His own Image; in the Image of God created He '' him. And as the Wise Man, in the setting forth of Wisdom, saith concerning the same Son, For She is the bright ness^Whd. oj' tJie everlasting liglit. And as Paul hath it, IVlio being ''^^' lite brightness of His glory, and the express Image o/'Heb. i, His Person. When then His Eternity is perceived as far ' as the capability of our frail nature admits, His Image is set before the eyes of the mind, in that when we really strain towards the Father, as far as we receive Him we see Him by His Image, i. e. by His Son. And by That Image, Which was born of Himself without beginning, we strive in some sort to obtain a glimpse of Him, Who hath neither beginning nor ending. And hence this same Truth saith in the Gospel, A'^o man comet h to the Father but by 3Ie. And ^o^" 14, it is well added,
And I heard the voice as it were of a light breath.
65. For what is signified by ' the voice of a light breath,' xxxvi. but the knowledge of the Holy Spirit, Which proceeding from the Father, and receiving of that which belongeth to the Son, is gently imparted to the knowledge of our John 16, frail nature.? Yet when It came upon the Apostles, It is demonstrated by an outward sound, like a vehement blast, where it is said, And suddenly there came a so2<;?rZActs 2, ^ from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind. For when "" the Holy Spirit imparts Itself to the knowledge of frail humanity. It is both represented by ' the sound of a rushing mighty wind,' and also by the ' voice of a gentle breath,' clearly, in that when It comes, It is both ' vehement' and ' gentle;' ' gentle,' in that It tempers the knowledge of Itself to our perceptions, so as to be in some sort brought under our cognizance; ' vehement,' in that however It may temper that same, yet by Its coming. It confounds while It illumines the darkness of our frail condition. For It touches us but lightly by Its enlightening influence, yet It shakes our emptiness with fearful might.
■J92 God cldefly known by sli<jht intimations.
that the Divine Being never ini])arls Himself as He is to those that contemplate Him while still in this life, but to the purblind eyes of our mind He discovers His brightness but scantily. AVhich is well represented by the very receiving of the Law itself, when it is said that Moses ascended, and God descended upon the Mount. For ' the Mount' is our very contemplation itself, whereinto we ascend, that we may be elevated to see those things which are beyond our frail nature; but the Lord descends thereupon, in that, when we advance much, He discloses some little concerning Himself to our perceptions, if either ' little' or ' somewhat' can be said to be in Him, Who, being always One and abiding the Same, cannot be understood by parts, and yet is said to be participated by His faithful servants, whereas ' part' is nowise admissible in His Substance. But because we are unable to express Him with perfect speech, being hindered by the scanty measure of our human nature, as by the impotency of the infant state, \ve give back an echo of Him in some sort with stammering utterance. But that when we are lifted up in high contemplation, it is somewhat refined that we attain unto in the knowledge of the Eternal One, is shewn by the words of Sacred Storj-, when the illustrious Prophet Elijah 'is instructed in the knowledge of God. For when the Lord promised him that 1 Kings He would pass by before him, saying, And, belt old, the Lord 12.' pas.seth by, a great and strong wind rending the mountains, and breaking in pieces the rocks before the Lord; He thereupon added, But the Lord is not in the wind: and after the wind a quaking, but the Lord is not in the quaking: and after the quaking a fire, but the Lord is not i/i the fhe jiYQ ■ (jffii after the fire, a still small voice. For the wind of a before the Lord overturns the mountains, and shatters the gentle ygcks, in that the affright, which rushes in upon us from His coming, both casts down the exaltation of our hearts, and melts their hardness. But the Lord is said not to be in the ' wind of quaking "'' and in the fire, but it is not denied that He is ' in the still small voice,' in tliat verily when the mind is hung aloft in the height of contemplation, whatever Book it has power to see perfectly and completely is not God, '■ — but when it sees something of great fineness, this is the same as that he hears belonging to the incomprehensible substance of the Deity- For we as it were perceive a still small voice., when by a moment's contemplation we taste with finest sense the savour of incomprehensible truth. Accordingly then only is there truth in what we know concerning God, when we are made sensible that we cannot know any thing fully concerning Him. Hence it is well added in that place, And it ivas so lohen Elijah heard it, that he tcrapped his face in his mantle., and went out and stood at the entering in of the cave. After the still small voice, the Prophet covers his face with his mantle, because in that very refined contemplation he learns in what a cloak of ignorance man is shrouded; for to draw the mantle over the face is to veil the mind by the consideration of its own infirmity, that it may never presume to seek things above it, that it never rashly open the eyes of the understanding beyond itself, but close them with a feeling of awe to that which it cannot apprehend. And he, in doing such things, is 46scribed to have stood at the entering in of the cave. For what is our cave but this dwelling-place of our corrupt nature, wherein we are still held fast from remaining oldness? But when we begin to take in something of the knowledge of the Divine Being, we as it were already stand ' in the entering in of our cave;' for whereas we cannot make perfect progress, yet panting after the knowledge of the truth, we already Catch something of the breath of liberty. So to ' stand at the entering in of the cave,' is, forcing aside the obstruction of our corrupt nature, to begin to issue forth to the knowledge of the truth. And hence upon the cloud descending on the Tabernacle, the Israelites seeing it afar off Ex. 33, are related to have stood at the entering in of their tents, * in that they, who in some sort behold the coming of the Deity, as it were already issue forth from the habitation of the flesh. Therefore because with whatever amplitude of virtue the human mind may have enlarged its compass, yet it scarcely knows the very outermost extremes that belong to the interior things, it is rightly said here, And I heard a voice as of a light breath; but as at the time that
•294 Man's riyhtcousness unrighteous before God.
Job 4, the knowledge of the Deity shews us after all but little concerning Itself, It is perfectly instructing the ignorance of our infinnness; let him that ' heard the voice of a light breath,' declare all that lie learnt by that same hearing. It goes on; Ver. 17. Shail mortal man be more just than God^ Shall a man he more pure than his 3Iaker?
xxxvii 67. Human righteousness compared with the righteousness of God is unrighteousness, for even a candle is seen to shine bright in the dark, but being set in the ray of the sun its light is darkened. What then did Eliphaz learn when he was transported in contemplation, saving that man cannot be justified in com]iarison with God.'' For we believe that wliat we do outwardly is righteous^, but when we never at all acquaint ourselves with the tilings of the interior, we are as it were blind whilst set in the ray of tlie sun. But when we,
' "°" little as we can, discern the one, it is not a little' that we que judge the others, m that a man judges the darkness more 2 A.B. exactly, in pro])ortion as the brightness^ of light is more
9'"^',. trulv manifested to him. For he, that seeth light, knoweth ty.' what to account of the darkness, as he, that is ignorant of the whiteness of light, lets pass even dark objects for light ones. And it is rightly added, Shall a man be more pure than his Maker? For whoso murmurs at the stroke, what does he, but charge the justice of the striker.f* Thus a man accounts himself more pure than his Maker, if he stirs comjdaint against the scourge, and without doubt he makes Him give place to himself. Whose judgment he blames in the case of his own affliction. Tluis, that man may never dare charge his Judge with offence, let him humbly bethink himself that lie is the Autlior of Nature; for He, That with marvellous skill made man out of nothing, does not pitilessly afflict him that He has made; which Eliphaz then learnt when he ' heard the voice as it were of a light breath.' For by the contemplation of the greatness of God we learn, how humbly we should abase ourselves with fear under His visitation. And 'he, that hath a taste of things above, bears with resignation all events below, in that he perfectly sees within, whereat he should reckon that which he does witliout. l<'or he miscounts himsell" righteous, who knows not the rule of the Supreme Righteousness. And it often happens that a piece of wood is counted straight, if it Book be not applied to the rule; but so soon as it is put thereto, 1_ we discover the degree of distortion wherewith it swells out, in that, truly, the straight line cuts off and condemns that, which the cheated eye approved as good. Thus Eliphaz, in that he beheld things above, delivered a strict judgment on all below, and though it was not rightly he reproved blessed Job, yet by comparison with the Creator of all things he rightly describes the measure of the creature, saying, Ver. 18, 19. Behold, His servants are not stedfast, and in His Angels He found folly: Hoiv much more in them that dwell in houses of clay, ivhose foundation is in the dust, which shall be consumed as by the moth /
68. Though the Angelical nature, by being fixed in con- xxxviii templation of the Creator, remains unchangeable in its own state, yet hereby, that it is a created being, it admits in itself the variableness of change. Now to be changed is to go from one thing into another, and to be without stability in one's self. For every single being tends to some other thing by steps, as many in number as it is subject to motions of change. And it is only the Incomprehensible Nature, which knows not to be moved from its fixed state, in that It knows not to be changed from this, that It is always the Same. For if the essence of the Angels had been strange to the motion of change, being created well by its Maker, it would never have fallen in the case of reprobate spirits from the tower of its blessed estate. But Almighty God in a marvellous manner framed tlie nature of the highest spiritual existences good, yet at the same time capable of change; that both they, that refused to remain, might meet with ruin, and they, that continued in their own state of creation, might henceforth be stablished therein moi'e worthily in proj)ortion as it was owing to their own choice, and become so much the more meritorious in God's sight, as they had staid the motion of their mutability by the stablishing of the will. Whereas then this very Angelical nature too is in itself mutable, which same mutability it has hereby overcome, in that it is bound by the chains of love to Him, Who is ever the Same, it is now rightly said. Behold, His servants are not sledfast. And there is forthwith added a proof of this same
Job 4, mutability, in that it is brought in I'roni the case of the apostate
-^' ^' '■ spirits, And in His Aiu/els He fuund folly. And from the fall of those He rightly draws the consideration of human frailty, when he appends thereto; How much wore in them that ducll in houses of claij, whose foundation is earthly, which shall be consumed as by the moth. For we inhabit houses of clay,inthatwe subsist in earthly bodies. Which Paul consider-
2 Cor. ing sailh well; But we hare this treasure in earthen vessels.
5' I' And again, For tee know that if our ear tidy house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made uitJi hands. ' The earthly foundation' too is the substance of the flesh; which the Psalmist had Ps. 139, earnestly contemplated in himself, when he said, My hones ^' are not hid from Thee, tvhich Thou madest in secret, and my substance in the lower parts of the earth. Now the moth springs from the garment, and in its production destroys that very garment, whereu}ion it is produced. And the flesh is as a kind of garment to the soul, but this same garment has withal its moth, in that from itself there arises carnal temptation, whereby it is rent and torn. For our garment is as it were consumed by a kind of moth of its ow'u, in that the corruptible flesh engendereth temptation, and by this is brought to destruction. Man is consumed as if by a moth, in that he has ansing from himself that, whereby he is to be broken in pieces. As though it were in plain words, ' If those spirits cannot be of themselves unchangeable, which are kept down by no infirmity of the flesh, by what inconceivable temerity do men accoimt themselves to hold on stedfastly in good, who, wherein they have their understanding elevating them on high, have the clog of carnal frailty acting as an imjiediment to them, so that through the evil of a corrupting tendency they contain a cause in themselves, whence they turn old from the interior newness?
69. The holy Doctors may likewise be understood by Mai. 2, ' the Angels,' according as it is said by the Prophet, For the PriesCs lips should keep knowledye, and they should seek ' Ange- iJte law at his month, for he is the AnyeP of the Lord of hosts. With whatever degree of virtue these may shine, they can never be altogether without sin, so long as they are engaged in the journey of this life, in that their step is doubtless brought into contact cither witli the mire of unlawful Book practice, or with the dust of the thought of the heart. Now '— they ' dwell in houses of clay,' who rejoice in this ensnaring life of the flesh. Paul had been brought to contemn the inhabiting this house of clay, when he said, But our con- PhW.s, relation is in heaven. Let him say then, Behold, His servants are not stedjast, and in His Angels He hath found folly: how much more in them that dwell in houses of clay, ir hose foundation is in the dust, which are consumed as by the moth? As if he had said in plain words, ' If the pathway of the present life cannot be passed through without defilement by those, who proclaiming the things of eternity, gird themselves up to encounter those of time, what evils do they undergo, who rejoice to be plunged in the delights of the fleshly habitation? ' For His servants are not stedfast,' for when the mind strains toward things on high, it is dissipated by the conceits of its own flesh, so that oftentimes whilst the mind pants after the things of the interior, while it looks at heavenly objects alone, smitten by a momentary carnal delight, it lies low severed from itself, and he that felt joy that he had surmounted the hindrances of his frailty, prostrated by an unexpected wound, is only filled with woe. Perverseness then is found even in His Angels, so long as those very men, who proclaim His truth, the surprisals of a deceitful life do at times lie heavy on. So then if even those are smitten by the wickedness of this world, whom a holy purpose presents erect against the same, with what strokes are not they pierced, whom nothing less than ' delight in • ipsa their fiailty brings to the ground before its darts? And these ai'e well described to be ' consumed,' as it were, ' with a moth.' For a moth does mischief, and makes no sound. So the minds of the wicked, in that they neglect to take account of their own losses, lose their soundness, as it were, without knowing it. For they are losing innocency from the heart, truth from the lips, continency from the flesli, and in the course of time, life from the sum of their age. But they see not one whit that they are unceasingly letting go these same, in that they are busied with all their heart in temporal concerns. Thus they are ' consumed as it were with a moth,' in that thov suffer the canker of sin without sound, whilst they
JoH 4, it.'uiaiii ignoiaut wiial losses in lilo and innocency ol" heart " ' they are undergoin}^. Hence it is well added,
Ver. 2U. T/k-i/ shall be cut (ifffro)n moruuuj to evening.
xxxix 70. For the sinner is * cut off from morning to evening,' in that from the beginning of his life to the end thereof he is ever getting wounded by the connnission of sin. For the reprobate by increase in wickedness are at all times redoubling blows upon themselves, cut off by which, they may fall headlong into the pit. And it is well said of them
Ps..55, by the Psahnist, Bloody and deceitful men shall no! haUe
^■^" Ihcir days. For to ' halve our days' is to part off the time of our life misspent in pleasure, for the purpose of penitential mouniing, and in parting off to recover the same to a good use. But the wicked never ' halve their days,' in that not even in the end of their time do they change their frowardness of heart. Contrary whereunto Paul rightly exhorts, Eph. 5, saying. Redeeming the lime, because the days are evil. For ^' we ' redeem the time,' when by tears we recover our past life, which by rioting we had lost. It goes on.
And because none underslandeth, they perish for ever. xl. 71. That is to say, ' none' of those, who ' shall be cut off from morning unto evening.' ' None uuderstandeth,' whether of those that perish, or of those who follow the lost ways of
Is. 57,1. the perishing. Whence it is elsewhere written. The righteous per islietJi, and no man layelh it to heart: and merciful men are taken aivay, none considering. Thus, whereas the wicked are set upon temporal things alone, and are unconcerned to learn what blessings are in store for the Elect for everlasting, while they look to the affliction of the just, but never learn what is the recompense of that affliction, they put fbrtli the foot of their conversation into the pit, for they willingly shut their eyes to the light of understanding. For being decoyed by foolish pleasures, whilst for objects, which they see, they entertain an affection, which belongs to lime, being meanwhile strangers to themselves, they never see whereunto they are hurrying for all eternity. It is possible too that by the morning may be denoted the prosj)erous fortune of this world, and by the evening the adverse forlune thereof. So then ' the wicked are cut off from morning to evening,' in that by running riot through pros- l)eiity they are brouglit to ruin, and beiu{»; made impatient Book by adversity they are lifted u]i to madness. These would — -— never be cut oflf from morning to evening-, by sin, if they either took prosperity for the salve or adversity for the knife to their sore.
72. But forasmuch as the assemblage of the human race is never so forsaken, that the whole is let to go to destruction, there be some, that look down upon the enjoyments" of the ])resent life, even when they are present, consider that they are transient, and in the love of the eternal world tread them underfoot. And while they set the step of judgment on this first stage, they mount with invigorated soul to a loftier height, so that they not only contemn all temporal things, for that they must be quickly parted with, but have no desire to attach themselves thereto, even if they might last for ever. And they withdraw their love from the things created in beauty, because they stretch forth by the steps of the heart toward the Father of all Beauty Himself. And there are some that love the good things of the present life, yet never in any wise attain unto them, who pant after temporal blessings with all their hearts' desire, who covet the glory of the world, yet never can make themselves master thereof. For these, so to speak, the heart draws them on to seek the world, the world drives them back to search out the heart. For it often chances that, being bruised by those very adversities which they suffer, they are brought back to reason, and returning back into themselves, they consider how little there is in that, which they were seeking after, and forthwith betake themselves to weeping for the foolishness of their desire, and conceive the stronger yearnings for eternal things, in proportion to the folly in which they grieve tliat they once spent themselves for those of time. Hence, the wicked having been described, it is well added,
Ver. 21. But Iheg Unit have been left shall be taken an ay from among them.
73. Whom else do we understand by ' the left,' but all the xli. despised of tliis world t whom whilst the i)resentlife chooses not for any use of honour, it ' leaves' as being the least and most worthless. But the Lord is said to ' take away those
Job 4, that are leiV ol" the world, in that He condescends to make — -■ — choice of the despised of this life, as Paul bears witness, 1 Cor. 1, saying, Nol matnj /rise men alter Hip Jiesli, iiof many mi(jhly, "^" "'* not many noble are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak thinys of the world, to confound the things that arc inighty. Which is well represented in the Book of Kings by the Egyptian servant fainting in the way, whom the Amalekite abandons taken sick upon the journey, but David finds, refreshes with food, and makes the guide of his route; he pursues the Amalekite, finds him feasting, and utterly destroys him. For what does it moan that the Egyptian servant of the Amalekite turns faint upon the journey, but that the lover of this present world, covered with the blackness of his sins, is often abandoned in weakness and contempt by the same world, so that he is no longer able to run therewith, but being broken down by adversity, grows helpless. But David finds him, in that our Redeemer, Who is in a true sense ' strong of hand,' sometimes turns to the love of Himself those, whom He finds despised as to the glory of the world, in that He refreshes them with the knowledge of the Word. He chose him the guide of his way, in that He makes him even the preacher of Himself. And he, that had no power to follow the Amalekite, becomes the guide of David, in that he, whom the world forsook as worthless, not only when converted entertains the Lord in his afiections '', but by preaching Him brings Him home even to the hearts of others also. And with this same guide David discovers and annihilates the Amalekite as he feasted, in that Christ breaks up the joy of the world by those very men as preachers, whom that world scorned to have for its companions. Therefore because it very often happens that those, whom the world abandons, are chosen of the Lord, it is rightly said in this place, Those, that may have been left, shall be taken from amongst them. It proceeds; They shall die,-even without wisdom. xlii. 74. How is it that he set forth above the death of the wicked, saying, Because none tmderstandeth they shall perish for ever; and concerning the Elect of God there- upon subjoined. And the// that Jmve been left shall be taken Book «?/•«?/ fro7n among them; yet forthwith adds that which cannot accord with tliose Elect ones, saying, They shall die even tcithnut wisdom? For if they be taken away from among the wicked by the hand of God, how are they said ' to die without wisdom?' Why, doubtless it is the fashion of Holy Writ, in relating any thing, after inserting a sentence that concerns another case, to return straightway to its former subject. Thus after he had said, And because there is none that understandeiJi, they shall perish for ever; he immediately brought in the lot of the Elect, saying. But they that have been left shall be taken away from among them. And again directing the eye of his meaning to that destruction of the wicked, which he had foretold, he suddenly subjoined, they shall die, even tvithout rcisdom. As if he said, Those of whom I said that ' not understanding, they should perish for ever,' will assuredly ' die without wisdom.' But we shall the better shew that this is at times the way with Holy Writ, if we produce therefrom a similar instance to this. For when Paul the Apostle was counselling his beloved disciple for the settling the offices of the Church, that he might not by chance without due order promote any to Holy Orders, he said. Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of\ xim. other mens sins. Keep thyself pure. And forthwith directing ^' ^^• his words to his bodily infirmities, he says. Drink no longer yer. 23. water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities. And he immediately subjoins; Some ver. 24. 77ien\s sins are open beforehand, going before to judgment, and some men they folloiv after. What connection then has that, which he added concerning the sins of different men being hidden and manifest, with this, that he forbad him in his weak health to drink water.? but that after the insertion of a clause concerning his weakness of health he came back again at the end to that, which he had said above. Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's sins. For in order to shew with what anxious heed these same sins are to be inquired into, after introducing a charge to prudence directed against the annoyance of bad health, he straightway put in, that in some men they lay exposed to view, in some hidden from sight, saying. Some men's sins are open
Jon r>, beforehand 'joinij before to judfpnent, and some men they — '■ — follow after. As tlion in this sentonce Paul does not chime in with these same words, to wliich, speaking of the weakness of Timotliy's health, he subjoined it, but he has returned to that which he made mention of before after an interruption; so when in this place Eliphaz said concerning the ]^'.lect, They that have been left shall be taken from among them, by subjoining thereupon, they die even ivithotit ivisdoni; he forthwith recurs to that, which he delivered concerning the wicked, saying, And because none understandeth, they shall perish for ever.
lb. Now it is for this reason that the wicked look down upon the Elect, because they are going toward a life that is invisible through a death that is visible; of whom it is well said in this place. They die even icithout ivisdo7n. As though it were said in plain words, " They equally indeed eschew death and wisdom; and wisdom they wholly get quit of, but they do not escape the snares of death. And whereas doomed, as they are, to die one day, they might in dying have received life, while they dread the death, which will most surely come, they part both with life and wisdom together." But, on the other hand, the righteous die in wisdom, for that death, which they cannot wholly avoid, when it threatens them for the sake of the truth, they refuse to ])ut off to a later day, and whilst they undergo the same with resignation, they turn the punishment of their race into an instrument of virtue; that life may be received back fiom the same quarter, whence, for the deserts of the first sin, it is forced to its end. But because Eliphaz delivered these things with a true meaning against the wicked; in accounting blessed Job to be worthy of blame, he puffed himself up in pride of wisdom. And hence, after declarations so good and righteous, he subjoins words of mocking, and says. Chap. V. 1. Call now, if there be any that loill answer thee. xliii. 7(). For Almighty God often passes by the prayer of that man in his trouble, who slights His precepts in the season Prov. of lest. Hence it is written. He that turneth aivay his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be aboinination. Now for us ' to call,' is to beseech God with humble prayer; but for God to ' answer,' is to vouchsafe an accomplishment to our prayers; and so he says, Call noiv, if any will answer Book thee. As though he said in plain words, ' However thou '■ — mayest cry out in thy distress, thou hast not God answering thee, in that the voice in tribulation findeth not Him, Whom the mind in tranquillity disregarded. Where he adds in yet fru'ther derision,
A7id turn thee to some one of the Saints?
77. As though he said in scorn, ' The Saints too thou xHv. canst never obtain for abettors in thy distress, whom thou wouldcst not have for companions in thy mirth. And after this mocking he forthwith adds the sentence, saying,
Ver. 2. For wrath killeth the foolish ma7i, and envy slayeth the silly man.
78. Which same sentence would have been true, had it xlv. not been delivered against the patience of so great a man.
But let us weigh well the thing that is said, though it be made to recoil by the virtue of his hearer, that we may shew how right the matter is, which is put forth, if it were not unjustly put forth against blessed Job; since it is written, But Thou, Lord^judgest with tranquillity. We must above wisd. all things know, that as often as we restrain the turbulent ^^' '^• motions of the mind under the virtue of mildness, we are essaying to return to the likeness of our Creator. For when the ])eace of the mind is lashed with Anger, torn and rent, as it were, it is thrown into confusion, so that it is not in harmony with itself, and loses the force of the inward likeness. Let us consider then how great the sin of Anger is, by which, while we part with 'mildness, the likeness of the image of the Most High is spoilt. By Anger wisdom is parted with, so that we are left wholly in ignorance what to do, and in what order to do it; as it is written, Anger resieth in Ecc. 7, ike bofiom of a fool; in this way, that it ^\ithdraws the light" ' of understanding, while by agitating it troubles the mind. By Anger life is lost, even though wisdom seem to be retained; as it is written. Anger destroyeih even the wise. For Prov. in truth the mind being in a state of confusion never puts it lx X in execution, even if it has power to discern any thing with good judgment. By Anger righteousness is abandoned, as it is written, The wrath of man uorketh not the riah-^^-^m. i, teoHnuess of God. For whereas the agitated mind works u])
Jon 5, to harshness the decision of its reasoning faculty, all that — ^_rage suggests, it accounts to be right. By Anger all the Prov. kindliness of social life is lost, as it is written, Be not the ^?' "^\ companion of an amjry man; lent thou learn his ttays, and V. get a snare to thy soul. And the same writer, JVho can \i^^\\ duell uilh^ a. man whose spirit is ready to tcrath"? For he.' ""f \- that does not regulate his feelings by the reason that is proper to man, must needs live alone like a beast. By Prov. Anger, harmony is interrapted; as it is written, A wrathful not as *'*"" stirrelh up strife, and an angry man diggeth up sins. V. or por ' an angry man diggeth up sins,' since even bad men, whom he rashly provokes to strife, he makes worse than they were. Eph. 4, By Anger the light of truth is lost; as it is written, Let not ^^* the sun go down upon your urath. For when wrath brings into the mind the darkness of perturbation, God hides therefrom the ray of the knowledge of Himself. By Anger the brightness of the Holy Spirit is shut out. Contrary where- Ts. 66,2. unto, it is written according to 'the old translation, Upon whom shall My Spirit rest, saving upon him that is Jtumhle and peaceful, and that trembleth at My words? For when He mentioned the humble man, He forthwith subjoined the word ' peaceful;' if then x\nger steals away peace of mind, it shuts its dwelling place against the Holy Spirit, and the soul being left void by Its departure, is immediately carried into open frenzy, and is scattered away to the very surface from the inmost foundation of the thoughts.
79. For the heart that is inflamed with the stings of its own Anger beats quick, the body trembles, the tongue stammers, the countenance takes fire, the eyes grow fierce, and they that are well known are not recognised. With the mouth, indeed, he shapes a sound, but the understandingknows nothing what it says. Wherein, then, is he far •'• arrep- removed from brain-struck^ persons, who is not conscious of his own doings? W^hence it very often comes to pass tliat anger springs forth even to the hands, and as reason is gone the further, it lifts itself the bolder. And the mind has no strength to keep itself in, for that it is made over into the power of another. And frenzy employs the limbs without in dealing blows, in proportion as it holds captive within the very mind, that is the mistress of the limbs. But sometimes it does not put out the hands, but it turns the tongue into Book a dart of cursing. For it implores with entreaty for a '■ — brother's destruction, and demands of God to do that, which the wicked man himself is either afraid or ashamed to do. And it comes to pass that both by wish and words he commits a murder, even when he forbears the hurting of his neighbour with the hands. Sometimes when the mind is disturbed, anger as if in judgment commands silence, and in proportion as it does not vent itself outwardly by the lips, inwardly it burns the worse, so the angry man withholds from converse with his neighbour, and in saying nothing, says how he abhors him. And sometimes this rigorousness of silence is used in the economy of discipline, yet only if the rule of discretion be diligently retained in the interior. But sometimes whilst the incensed mind foregoes the wonted converse, in the progress of lime it is wholly severed from the love of our neighbour, and sharper stings arise to the mind, and occasions too spring up which aggravate her irritation, and the mote in the eye of the angry man is turned into a beam, whilst anger is changed into hatred. It often happens that the anger, which is pent up within the heart from silence, burns the more fiercely, and silently frames clamorous speeches, presents to itself words, by which to have its wrath exasperated, and as if set in judgment on the case, answers in exasperation exceeding cruelly: as Solomon implies in few words, saying, But the expectation of theVrov. wicked is wrath. And thus it is brought to pass that the ' troubled spirit finds louder riot in its silence, and the flame of pent-up anger preys upon it the more grievously. Hence a certain wise man said well before us ^, The thoughts of the angry man are a generation of vipers, they devour the mind which is their mother.
80. But we are to know that there be some, whom anger is somewhat prompt in inflaming, but quickly leaves them; while there are others whom it is slow in exciting, but the longer in retaining possession of. For some, like kindled reeds, while they clamour with their voices, give out something like a crackle at their kindling: those indeed speedily
300 Divers Characters. 7 wo remedies for anger.
Job 5, rise into a flanit', but then they forthwith cool down into their ashes; while otliers, like the heavier and harder kinds of wood, are slow in taking fire, but being once kindled, arc with difliculty put out; and as they slowly stir themselves into heat of passion, retain the longer the fire of their rage. Others again, and their conduct is the worst, are both quick in catching the flames of anger, and slow in letting tlieni go; and others both catch them slowly, and part with them quickly. In which same four sorts, the reader sees clearly that the last rather than the first approaches to the excellence of peace of mind, and in evil the third is worse than the second. But what good does it do to declare how anger usurps possession of the mind, if we neglect to set forth at the same lime, how it should be checked }
81. For there are two ways whereby anger being broken comes to relax its hold u])on the mind. The first method is that the heedful mind, before it begins to do any thing, set before itself all the insults which it is liable to undergo, so that by thinking on the opprobrious treatment of its lledeemer, it may brace itself to meet with contradiction. Which same, on coming, it receives with tlie greater courage, in proportion as by foresight it armed itself the more heedfully. For he, that is caught by adversity unprovided for it, is as if he were found by his enemy sleeping, and his foe dispatches him the sooner, that he stabs one who offers no resistance. For he, that forecasts impending ills in a spirit of earnest heedfulness, as it were watching in ambush awaits the assault of his enemy. And he arrays himself in strength for the victory in the very point wherein he was expected to be caught in entire ignorance. Therefore, before the outset of any action, the mind ought to forecast all contrarieties, and that with anxious heed, that by takhig account of these at all times, and being at all times armed against them with the breastplate of patience, it may both in foresight obtain the mastery, whatever may take place, and whatever may not take place, it may account gain. But the second method of preserving mildness is that, when we regard the transgression of others, we have an eye to our own offences, by wliich we hav(! done wrong in the case of others. For our own frailty being considered niakes excuse for the ills done us by others. Since that man bears with patience an injury Book that is offered him, who with right feeling remembers tliat ^' perchance there may still be somewhat, in which he himself has need to be borne with. And it is as if fire were extinguished by water, when u])on rage rising up in the mind each person recalls his own misdoings to his recollection; for he is ashamed not to spare offences, who recollects that he has himself often committed offences, whether against God or against his neighbour, which need to be spared.
82. But herein we must bear in mind with nice discernment that the anger, which hastiness of temper stirs is one thing, and that which zeal gives its character to is another. The first is engendered of evil, the second of good. For if there was no anger originating in virtue. Phinees would never have allayed the fierceness of God's visitation by his sword. Because Eli lacked such anger, he quickened against himself the stirrings of the vengeance of the Most High to an implacable force. For in proportion as he was lukewarm towards the evil practices of those under his charge, the severity of the Eternal Ruler waxed hot against himself Of this it is said by the Psalmist, Be ye angry, and sin not. Ps. 4, 5, Which doubtless they fail to interpret aright, who would ^"^f^- only have us angry with ourselves, and not with others likewise, when they sin. For if we are bidden to love our neighbours as ourselves, it follows that we should be as angry with their erring ways as with our own evil practices. Of this it is said by Solomon, Anger^ is better than laughter; Eoc. 7, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better, f ' Of this the Psalmist saith again. Mine eye is • disturbed because Vulg. of anger ^. For anger that comes of evil blinds the eye ofay* thus the mind, but anger that comes of zeal disturbs it. Since V"*'® necessarily in whatever degree he is moved by a jealousy forvulg. virtue, the world of contemplation, which cannot be known ''•^"' saving by a heart in tranquillity, is broken up. For zeal for the cause of virtue in itself, in that it fills the mind with disquietude and agitation, presently bedims the eye thereof, so that in its troubled state it can no longer see those objects far up above, which it aforetime clearly beheld in a state of tranquillity. But it is brought back on high with a moi'e penetrating ken by the same means, whereby it is thrown
Job 5, back for a while so as to be incapable of seeing. For the - — '— same jealousy in behalf of what is right after a short space opens wider the scenes oi eternity in a state of tranquillity, which in the mean season it closes from the effects of perturbation. And from the same quarter whence the mind is confounded so as to prevent its seeing, it gains ground, so as to be made clear for seeing in a more genuine way; just as when ointment is applied to the diseased eye, light is wholly withheld, but after a little space it recovers this in truth and reality by the same means, by which it lost the same for its healing. But to perturbation contemplation is never joined, nor is the mind when disturbed enabled to behold that, which even when in a tranquil state it scarcely has power to gaze on; for neither is the sun's ray discerned, when driving clouds cover the face of the heavens; nor does a troubled fountain give back the image of the beholder, which when calm it shews with a proper likeness; for in proportion as the water thereof quivers, it bedims the appearance of a likeness within it.
83. But when the spirit is stiiTed by zeal, it is needful to take good heed, that that same anger, which we adopt as an instrument of virtue, never gain dominion over the mind, nor take the lead as mistress, but like a handmaid, prompt to render service, never depart from following in the rear of reason. For it is then lifted up more vigorously against evil, when it does service in subjection to reason; since how much soever our anger may originate in zeal for the right, if from being in excess it has mastered our minds, it thereupon scorns to pay obedience to reason, and spreads itself the more shamelessly, in proportion as it takes the evil of a hot temper for a good quality; whence it is necessary that he who is influenced by zeal for right should above all things look to this, that his anger should never overleap the mind's control, but, in avenging sin, looking to the time and the manner, should check the rising agitation of his mind by regulating it with nicety of skill, should restrain heat of temper, and control his passionate emotions in subjection to the rule of equity, that the punisher of another man may be made more just, in proportion as he has first proved the con- (|ueror of himself; so that he should conect the faults of transgressors in such a way, that he that corrects should Book himself first make advanceiuent by self-restraint, and pass '— judgment on his own vehemency, in getting above it, lest by being immoderately stirred by his very zeal for right, he go far astray from the right. But as we have said, forasmuch as even a commendable jealousy for virtue troubles the eye of the mind, it is rightly said in this place, For wrath killeth the foolish man; as if it were in plain terms, ' Anger from zeal disturbs the wise, but anger from sin destroys the fool;' for the first is kept in under the control of reason, but the other lords it over the prostrate mind in opposition to reason.
And envy slayeth the little^ one. Vuig.
84. For it is impossible for us to envy any but those, whom ^Ivi. we think to be better than ourselves in some respect. And so he is ' a little one,' who is slain by jealousy. For he bears witness against his very own self, that he is less than him, by envy of whom he is tormented. It is hence that our crafty foe, in envying of the first man, despoiled him, in that having lost his estate of bliss, he knew himself to be inferior to his immortality. It is hence that Cain was brought down to commit the murder of his brother; in that when his sacrifice was disregarded, he was maddened that he, whose offering God accepted, was preferred to himself; and him, whose being better than himself was his aversion, he cut off, that he might not be at all. Hence, Esau was fired to the persecution of his brother; for, the blessing of the firstborn being lost, which, for that matter, he had himself parted with for a mess of pottage, he bewailed his inferiority to him, whom he surpassed by his birth. Hence his own brethren sold Joseph to Ishmaelites, that were passing by, in that upon the mystery of the revelation being disclosed, they set themselves to resist his advancement, that he might never become superior to themselves. Hence Saul persecutes his servant David by throwing a lance at him, for he dreaded that man growing beyond his own measure, whom he perceived to be daily waxing bigger by his great achievements in the virtues. Thus he is a ' little one,' who is slain by envy; in that except he himself proved less, he would not grieve for the goodness of another.
Jon 5, 85. But herein we must bear in mind, tluit though in every evil thing that is done, the venom of our old enemy is infused into the heart or man, yet ni this wickedness, tlie serpent stirs his whole bowels, and discharges the bane of spite fitted to enter deep into the mind. Of whom also it is Wisd. written, Nevertheless, throiif/h envy of the devil came death ^' ""*■ into the icorld. For when the foul sore of envy corrupts the vanquished heart, the very exterior itself shews, how forcibly the mind is urged by madness. For paleness seizes the complexion, the eyes are weighed do^ATi, the spirit is inflamed, while the limbs are chilled, there is frenzy in the heart, there is gnashing with the teeth, and while the growing hate is buried in the depths of the heart, the pent wound works into the conscience with a blind grief. Nought of its own that is prosperous gives satisfaction, in that a selfinflicted pain wounds the pining spirit, which is racked by the prosperity of another: and in proportion as the structure of another's works is reared on high, the foundations of the jealous mind are deeper undermined, that in proportion as others hasten onward to better things, his own ruin should be the worse; by which same doAvnfidl even that is brought to the ground, which was believed to have been raised in other doings with perfect workmanship. For when envy has made the mind corrupt, it consumes all that it may have found done aright. Whence it is well said by Solomon, Prov. A sound heart is the life of the flesh: hut envy the rottenness of the hones. For what is denoted by ' the flesh,' saving weak and tender things? and what by the ' bones,' saving strong deeds.? And it is most common that some with real innocency of heart should appear to be weak in some points of their practice, whilst some now perform deeds of strength before the eyes of men, but yet towards the excellences of others they are inwardly consumed with the plague of envy; and so it is well said, A sound heart is the life of the Jlesh. In that where inward innocency is preserved, even if there be ' some points weak without, yet they are sometime made strong and fast. And it is rightly added, But envy the rottenness of the hones. For by the bad quality of envy even strong deeds of virtue go for nought before the eyes of God. Since the rotting of the bones from envy is the spoiling of the strong things Book
86. But why do we say such things concerning envy, unless we likewise point out in what manner it may be rooted out.^ For it is a hard thing for one man not to envy another that, which he earnestly desires to obtain; since whatever we receive that is of time becomes less to each in proportion as there are many to divide it amongst. And for this reason envy wrings the longing mind, because that, which it desires, another man getting either takes away altogether, or curtails in quantity. Let him, then, who longs to be wholly and entirely void of the bane of envy, set his affections on that inheritance, which no number of fellowheirs serves to stint or shorten, which is both one to all and whole to each, which is shewn so much the larger, as the number of those that are vouchsafed it is enlarged for its reception. And so the lessening of envy is the feeling of inward sweetness arising, and the utter death of it is the perfect love of Eternity. For when the mind is withdrawn from the desire of that object, which is divided among a multitude of participators, the love of our neighbour is increased, in proportion as the fear of injury to self from his advancement is lessened. And if the soul be wholly ravished in love of the heavenly land, it is also thoroughly rooted in the love of our neighbour, and that without any mixture of envy. For whereas it desires no earthly objects, there is nothing to withstand the love it has for its fellow. And what else is this same charity but the eye of the mind, which 'if it be reached by the dust of earthly love, is forthwith beaten back with injury from its gaze at the inward light? But whereas he is ' a little one,' who loves earthly things, and a great one that longs after the things of eternity, it may be suitably enough rendered in this sense likewise. And envy slayeth the foolish one; in that no man perishes by the sickness of this plague, except bim that is still unhealthy in his desires.
i. Saving the historical verity, I proposed to myself to make
^^^^* out the sayings of blessed Job and of his ft-iends by the mystical mode of interpretation: for it is plain to all that are acquainted with the truth, that Holy Writ takes care to hold out in promise the Redeemer of the world in all its statements, and that it has aimed to represent Him by all the Elect as by His members. And hence blessed Job is in the Latin tongue rendered ' grieving,' that both by his name and by his wounds the Passion of our Redeemer might be sig- Is.53,4.nified, of Whom the Prophet saith. Surely He hath hoime our griefs, and carried our sorrows. And the Tempter, having robbed him of every thing, slew both his servants and his children; in that at the time of His Passion he smote with the weapon of faithlessness not only the Jewish people, that served Him out of fear, but the very Apostles also themselves, that were regenerated in His love. The body of blessed Job is mangled with wounding, for our Redeemer does not disdain to be pierced with nails upon the stock of the Cross. And he received wounds, from the sole of the foot to the very crown of his head, in that not only in her last and lowest members, but even up to the very highest, Holy Church, which is His Body, is harassed with pcrsecu- Col. 1, tion by the raging Tempter. Hence also Paul said. And Jill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ. And his wife strives to persuade him to curse, in that all the carnal minds \yithin the pale of Holy Church prove abettors of the cunning Tempter. For she, who prompts him to Book cursing, represents the life of the carnal sort; since, as we ^— have already said above, all persons of unchastened habits within the pale of Holy Church, in proportion as they are brought nigh to the good by their faith, pinch them harder by their life. For because they cannot be avoided, as being of the number of the faithful, they are borne by the faithful as the greater harm, in proportion ' as it is nearer home. » see p. But his friends, who come as if to administer consolation, but run out into words of bitter upbraiding, bear the likeness of heretics, who, in striving to defend God against the righteous, only offend Him.
2. These things then, wliich have been more fully delivered above, I have endeavoured to gather into a small compass after their mystical representation, that by this very repetition it might be recalled to the recollection of my reader, that I minister to the spiritual understanding. And yet, when occasion of usefulness demands, I also busy myself to make out with minute exactness the letter of the history, but when it is needed I embrace both at the same time, that the allegory may put forth spiritual fruit, wliich same nevertheless is produced by the historical verity as from the root. Now the fiiends of blessed Job, who, we have said, bear the likeness of heretics, we by no means condemn for their words throughout; for whereas it is delivered against them by the sentence fi'om above. For ye have not spoken before Jeb 42, Me the thing that is right; and it is thereupon added. Like My servant Job; it is plainly manifest that that is not altogether set at nought, which is only disapproved by comparison with what is better. For they incautiously slip into censure of him, but yet, as they are the friends of so great a man, from familiar intercourse with him they learnt many mystical truths. Whence, as we have also said above, Paul uses their very words, and by taking these in aid of his statement, he testifies that they were delivered from a source of truth. Which same nevertheless Truth does rightly censm^e, in that no sentence, however full of force, should be delivered against a holy man. Accordingly the words of EHphaz may be considered in a mystical sense, whereby he addresses blessed Job, saying,
Job 5, Ver. 3. I have seen the foolish taking root; but suddenly
I so V. 3. For the Jewish people shewed itself to be ' foolish,
^^' in that it slightly regarded the very Preseuce of Eternal AVisdom in the flesh. And it waxed strong, as it were, by taking root, in that it had ])0wer over the life of the Elect to the extinction thereof in time. And Eliphaz despises such an one, cursing him, in that all heretics, whom we liaA^e said the friends of blessed Job bear a figure of, while they boast themselves in the name of Christ, censure in a way of authority the unbelief of the Jews. Concerning which same foolish one it is forthwith added,
Ver. 4. His children are far from safety, and they are crushed i)i the gate, neither shall there be any to deliver them. 4. They all are ' the children' of this foolish man, who are generated by the preaching of that unbelief, and these ' are far from safety,' for though they enjoy the temporal life without trouble, they are stricken the worse with eternal vengeance, as the Lord says concerning these same sons Matt, of such an one, JVoe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypo-
■ ' crites,for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and tvJten he is made ye make him tivofold more the child of hell than yourselves. It follows, And they are crushed in the gate, neither shall there be any to deliver them. Who else is to be understood by the name of gate, but the Mediator
John between God and Man, Who saith, / am the door; by Me 10 9. 'J
' if any man enter in, he shall be saved. The sons, then, of this foolish man advance without the gate, and they are * crushed in the gate,' for the evil offspring of the Jews, before the Mediator's coming, prospered in the observance of the Law, but in the presence of our Redeemer itself they fell away fi'om the service of the Divine Being, proving outcasts by the deserts of their faithlessness. And verily there is none ' to rescue them,' for while they strive by their persecution to kill the Redeemer Himself, they cut themselves off from tlic proffered means of their rescue. And it is well added concerning him,
Ver. 5. Whose harvest the hungry eateth up, and the armed, one shall seize him.
i\. 5. Now ' the harvest' of this foolish man was the crop of
Sacred Writ. For the words of the Prophets are like so Book many grains of the ears, which the foolish man had, but did not eat. For the Jewish peojile indeed held the Law as far as the letter, but, from an infatuated pride, as to the sense thereof, they went hungering. But ' the hungry eateth the harvest' of this foolish one, in that the Gentile folk eats by taking in the words of the Law, in which the Jewish people toiled and laboured without taking them in. These hungry ones of faith the Lord foresaw, when He had said by the Evangelist, Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after md.ti.5, righteousness, for they shall be filled. Of these hungry ones^' Hannah saith prophesying, They thaticerefidl, have hired out i Sam. themselves for bread, and they that were hungry were satis- ' ' fied. And as he lost the harvest, it is rightly added how the foolish man himself too perishes, where it is said. And himself shall the armed one seize. The old enemy, being * armed,' seized the Jewish people, for he extinguished in them the life of faith by the darts of deceitful counsel, that in the very point, wherein they imagined themselves to be rooted in God, they might resist His dispensation. And Truth forewarns the Disciples of this, saying. Yea, the time John comeih that u'hosoever killeth you will think that he doelh ' ' God service. It follows.
And the thirsty shall drink his riches.
6. The riches of this ' foolish' one ' the thirsty drink,' in v. that by the streams of Sacred Writ, which the Jewish people possessed in the display of pride, the converted minds of the Gentiles are watered. And hence it is said to those same persons by the Prophet, Ho, every one that tkirstelh, come Isaiah ye to the ivaters; and he that hath no silver, come ye. For ''' * that the divine oracles are denoted by the word ' silver,' is testified by the Psalmist in these words. The words of the Ps. 12, Lord are pure words, as silver tried in the fire. They then ^' that ' have no silver,' are bidden to the ' waters,' in that the Gentile world which had never received the precepts of Holy Writ, is satisfied with the outpouring of Divine Revelation, which they now drink of the more eagerly, in ]iroportion as they thirsted for it long time in a state of di'ought. Thus the very same Divine oracles are called at once ' harvests' and 'riches;' ' harvests,' because they refresh the hun-
Job 6, gering soul; ' riches,' because they array us in a rare richness
^- of moral excellences. The same things are said both to be ' eaten,' and to be ' drunk,' for this reason, that whereas there are certain things therein that are obscure, which we understand not without they be interpreted, these same we in a manner swallow eating; and whereas certain other things indeed, that are easy to be understood, we so take as we find them, these we drink as if unchewed, in that we swallow them unbroken. These things we have run through in brief mode under their mystical signification, lest perchance we might seem to have passed over any thing; but because they could not be the friends of blessed Job, except in some points they also shone conspicuous for high moral worth, it remains that in their words we examine tlie force of their import in a moral sense, that, whilst the weight and substance of their speech is made out, it may be shewn what sort of teaching they were masters of.
Ver. 3. / have seen the foolish taking root, but suddenly
Moral. 7. * The foolish' is as it were made fast in the earth by VI- ' taking root,' in that he is fixed in the love of earth with all his heart's desire. And hence Cain is recorded to have been the first that builded a city in the earth, that it might be plainly shewn, that that same man laid a foundation in the earth, who was turned adrift from the firm hold of our heavenly country. The foolish man as it were lifts himself up by * taking root,' when he is buoyed up in this world with temporal good fortune, so that he obtains whatsoever he desires, is subject to no crosses, prevails against the weak without meeting with resistance, gainsays those that do well with authority, is ever attaining to better circumstances by means of worse practices, so that from the very cause that he is forsaking the path of life, he lives for the time the happier. But when the weak see that the wicked flourish, they are alarmed, and being troubled in their own breasts by the prosperit}' of sinners, they inwardly falter in the mind's footsteps. It was the likeness of these same tliat the Psalmist took when he Ps. 73, declared, But as for me, my feet were almost gone, my steps
' ' had well nigh slipped; for I ivas envious at the sinners, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.
8- But when the strong see their glory, they forthwith fix Book their minds upon the punishment which is to follow after -^^' ■ that glory, and with deep thought of heart within they contemn that, which swells the proud without with the bigness of empty inflation. It is then well said, / have seen the foolish taking root, but suddenly I cursed his beauty. For to ' curse the beauty' of the fool is to condemn his glory by an advised sentence, for he is the more frightfully drowned in torments, the higher he is lifted up in sins; for the being lifted up is transient, but the being punished is perpetual; for he, that meets with honour on his road, will meet with condemnation on his arrival; and he is as it were coming to a prison through pleasant meadows, who is going on to ruin through this world's prosperity. But it is to be observed, that, when he says that he ' cursed the beauty of the fool,' he directly adds, suddenly; for it is the way with man's weak mind to vary according to the modification of the objects which it beholds. Thus it often happens that his judgment is led by the mere appearance of the object presented, and his bias and feeling are framed according to the thing which is before his eyes. For often persons, while they see the glory of certain individuals, are charmed with the appearances thereof, and account it something great, and heartily wish they might themselves obtain the like; but when they see the children of glory severally either overthrown of a sudden, or perchance even brought to death, they acknowledge with a sigh that human glory is altogether nought, so as to exclaim at once, ' See what a nothing is man!' Which indeed they would say with more propriety, if when they Saw man in possession of glory, then thinking of his destruction, they had felt that transitory power is nought. For it is then that we are to reflect what a nothing human exaltation is, when by its successes it mounts above others; then we ought to reflect with what speed happiness will flee away, when it flourishes, as if for ever, before the eyes of men. For that the glory of a perishable being is nothing in the actual hour of death, any of the weak sort can presently consider. For then even they hold it cheap, who even until death follow after it with affection. So that it is well said, / Jiave seen the Joolish taking root, but suddenly I
Job 5, cursed his beaulij. As if he said plainly; ' Against the beauty of tlie foolish I admitted no delay in ray cursing, for as soon as I discerned it, I saw along w ith it the punishment that comes after; for I should not have cursed suddenly, if any delight in that glory had kept hold of me, but I cursed without tardiness, for beholding his punishments which are destined to endure, I condemned his power without hesitating.' But because in every case the more the wicked make way in this world, the greater numbers they drag • al./(/« to destruction, it is rightly subjoined, Let his children be^ ^I'aiiTef^'' ^''^"^ ■'^(ff^f'J- For the children of the foolish one arc they, that after his copy are brought forth in this world's ambition; who truly are so much the further from safety, in proportion as in the practice of iniquity they are stricken by no infirmit}'. Of these it is well added,