HOMILIAE IN ECCLESIASTEN

• In hom. XIX on Ecclesiastes, on the varied exposition of Holy Scripture, and on Solomon's intention. Preface.
• On the title of the work, on Solomon's names, and books, and on the beginnings of this book, on the explanation of the vanities. Homily I.
• On the proof of the vanity of all things under heaven: through the corruption of the elements, through the generation of things, and through the forgetting of those things which have been. Hom. II.
• How Ecclesiastes proves by his own works that all the works of men are vain, with an epilogue upon the foregoing. Hom. III.
• On the threefold vanity of things, and on the worst occupation of men. Hom. IV.
• On the letter of the words of Ecclesiastes, by the literal and the moral exposition. Homil. V.
• What it is to be distended in the worst occupation. Hom. VI.
• That the perverse are corrected with difficulty, etc. Hom. VII.
• That man flees away from the truth: as Adam fled in paradise, and hid himself. Hom. VIII.
• On the various vain endeavors of Ecclesiastes. Hom. IX.
• On the remaining matters as far as that place: « The fool walketh in darkness. » Hom. X.
• How wisdom reacheth from end to end mightily, etc. Hom. XI.
• On that passage according to another translation, « The eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth, » where our copy has: « The fool walketh in darkness, » and on the rest of the second chapter. Hom. XII.
• How all things have their own time. Hom. XIII.
• A setting forth of the remaining things which have their own time, and a repetition of the things said. Hom. XIV.
• On time and on the things subject to time, according to another interpretation. Hom. XV.
• On the spiritual understanding of those things which have been said concerning time. Hom. XVI.
• On the confusion of minds arising from the passage of the times. Hom. XVII.
• On the perverse manners of men, and what Ecclesiastes judged from them. Hom. XVIII.
• On the oppression and abandonment of the innocent, and on the vain and foolish judgment of the impious concerning this life. Hom. XIX.

• 113C

What I lately discoursed before you concerning the book of Solomon which is called Ecclesiastes, 114CI have now marked down with the pen, briefly running over it (because certain things there seemed worthy of remembrance). All Scripture expounded according to its own proper interpretation both shines out more clearly, 115Aand opens to its readers an easier approach to the understanding of itself. Many, not understanding the power of the Scriptures, becloud their comeliness and beauty with foreign expositions; and when they ought to have unlocked hidden things, they darken even the manifest ones. But to me they seem to lie under a like fault, both those who obstinately deny that the mystical understanding and the profundity of the allegories is to be sought in Holy Scripture where it is, and those who superstitiously contend that it is to be applied where it is not. Wherefore in this work I judge that I must not labor much over tropologies, or over mystical senses of allegories to be searched out through the whole sequence of his narrative at least: especially since the author himself here aims not so much at movements to be instructed, or at mysteries to be recounted, as at stirring the human heart 115Bto contempt of worldly things by the manifest truth of his reasonings and by evident exhortation. Nor yet do I deny this, that many uncertain mystical things belong to this narrative, which require their own proper explanation . especially in what follows, since always, in the advance of the narrative, he touches more and more upon spiritual things according to the increase of contemplation, and is lifted up from things visible. But it is one thing to attend to that by which the whole intention of the writer and the whole sequence of the narrative is led; and another to hold that certain things said mystically by accident, and to be understood spiritually, are not to be passed over negligently. Now therefore we undertake to explain the surface of the narrative, which is strong with so great a loveliness of speech and of sentiments, so that the things which you now read written (this poor little lucubration, whatever it be, 115Caffording a way to the understanding) you may henceforth rejoice not only to have written for you, but understood by you.

(ECCLE. I.) The words of Ecclesiastes, the son of David, king of Jerusalem. This is the title of the book: in which both the quality of the work that follows is briefly expressed, and equally the person of the author is commended. For in that it is said, words, a manifold disputation is signified, and one drawn out into diverse sentiments. For because in this book the manners, the pursuits, and the works of many are described, 115Dtherefore it is necessary that the speaker take up the voices of many, and express in his own discourse the opinions of many, so that he may be able to present in his own person the persons of many (though he himself who speaks be but one). For near the end of the book he testifies that he has spoken to many, and that many were in himself, saying: Let us all alike hear the end of speaking. Fear God, and keep his commandments: this is every man. This also is why he willed to be named Ecclesiastes in this work; because, namely, his discourse here is directed not to some one man in particular, but to the whole Church, that is, to the assembly, or the multitude of the people, and his oration in this book serves at once for the expressing and the forming of the manners of many. By three 116Awords indeed we read that Solomon was called: Idida, which is interpreted beloved; and Coeleth, which in Greek is called Ecclesiastes, in Latin concionator, an assembly-speaker; and Solomon, which sounds peaceable. Further, he may be called Ecclesiastes, or assembly-speaker, who instructs the Church or the assembly, that is, the multitude of the people, as he himself is plainly shown to have done in this book. And that Solomon was beloved by the Lord, and enjoyed great peace in his kingdom until the last times of his life, when he transgressed the covenant and the law of the Lord, the history plainly discloses the kingdom. And so, according to the three names, he composed three volumes. The first, whose title is Parables, or the Proverbs of Solomon. The second, which we now have in hand, which is called Ecclesiastes. The third, which is called 116Bthe Song of songs. In the first, as out of a father's affection, he addresses his beloved son, and by frequent admonition exhorts him to turn aside from vices and to pursue the virtues. In the second, he admonishes a man grown and of ripe age not to think anything among the things of the world to be perpetual. But at the last, when he is now perfected and, having trodden the world underfoot, is unencumbered, in the Song of songs he joins him to the embraces of the Bridegroom. Not far indeed from this kind of treatment even the philosophers of the Gentiles were accustomed to form their hearers, setting before those to be instructed first ethics, then physics, and last of all theology.

These things having been set down first for the opening up of the understanding of what is to be said, let us now come to the very sequence of the book. Solomon's matter in this work is all things subject 116Cto vanity, that is, things falling and transitory. His intention is to persuade contempt of the world. His manner of treatment is such. He shows, according to a threefold vanity, that all things are subject to vanity, that is, are falling and transitory — namely both the things which were made for the sake of men, and the things which were made by men, and the things which were made in men. In those things which were made for the sake of men, the vanity is of mutability. In those which were made by men, the vanity is of curiosity. In those which were made in men, the vanity is of mortality, and all is vanity. And of these indeed we shall discourse more amply hereafter, if we first treat of the things that must be said concerning the very kind of contemplation. In which the mind of the beholder, lifted up, was able either to see or to recount such new and such wondrous things concerning 116Dthe condition of man's estate. For let us see what he says:

Vanity of vanities, said Ecclesiastes, etc. But where do you suppose the mind of this man was when he said these things? He was a man, but he was above man. For unless he had gone beyond man, he would not have seen that every man is a liar. Therefore concerning the consideration of this man a consideration must first be had by us, and the kinds of spiritual beholding must be distinguished. There are three visions of the rational soul: cogitation, meditation, contemplation. Cogitation is when the mind is touched in passing by the notion of things, when the thing itself is suddenly presented to the soul by its own image, either entering through sense or rising up from memory. Meditation is the assiduous and shrewd turning over of cogitation, striving either to unfold 117Asomething involved, or, searching, to penetrate something hidden. Contemplation is the clear-sighted and free gaze of the soul, poured out on every side upon the things to be beheld. Between meditation and contemplation this difference appears to lie. That meditation is always about things hidden from our understanding. But contemplation is about things manifest, either according to their own nature or according to our capacity. And that meditation is always occupied about the probing of some one thing; contemplation is poured out to the grasping of many things, or even of all. Meditation therefore is a certain curious force of the mind, and a shrewd one, striving to investigate obscure things and to unravel perplexed ones. Contemplation is that liveliness of understanding which, having all things in the open, grasps them by a manifest vision. And thus 117Bin a certain manner what meditation seeks, contemplation possesses. But of contemplation there are two kinds: one which is both prior and belongs to beginners, in the consideration of creatures; the other which is later, and belongs to the perfect, in the contemplation of the Creator. In the Proverbs, Solomon went forward as though by meditating. In Ecclesiastes he ascended to the first step of contemplation. In the Song of songs he carried himself over to the highest. In meditation there is as it were a certain wrestling of ignorance with knowledge, and the light of truth in a certain manner flashes out in the midst of the darkness of error, just as fire in green wood at first indeed takes hold with difficulty; but when it has been roused by a more vehement blast, and has begun to blaze more sharply into the material set under it, then we see certain great globes of smoky gloom 117Crise up, and wrap round that flame, still of a slight sparkling, shining through but rarely, until at length, the burning gradually increasing, when all the vapor is drawn off and the gloom scattered, a serene splendor appears. Then the victorious flame, running through the whole heap of the crackling pyre, freely lords it, and flying about the material set under it, and grazing it with a soft touch, by licking burns it up and penetrates it; nor does it rest before, by penetrating, it has stolen into the inmost parts and drawn wholly into itself, in a certain manner, whatever it found outside itself. But after that which is to be burned up has, by the burning, been consumed and has passed over wholly, as it were out of its own nature, into the likeness and the property of fire, then all the crash falls away, and the noise 117Dis lulled, and those darts of flame are lifted and taken out of the midst, and that savage and devouring fire, all things being subjected to it and incorporated with it by a certain friendly likeness, composes itself in deep peace and silence; because now it finds nothing either diverse beside itself, or adverse against itself. First therefore fire was seen with flame and smoke, then fire with flame or smoke, last of all pure fire without flame and smoke. Just so, without doubt, the carnal heart, like green wood not yet dried out from the moisture of carnal concupiscence, if at any time it has conceived some spark of divine fear or love, first indeed, while depraved desires struggle against it, a smoke of passions and disturbances arises; then, when the mind has been strengthened, and it has begun with the flame of love to burn more strongly and to shine more brightly, 118Apresently all the gloom of the disturbances vanishes: and now with a pure mind the soul pours itself out to the contemplation of truth. But last of all, after the heart has been penetrated by assiduous contemplation of the truth, and has entered to the very fountain of the highest truth, to the marrow, with the whole affection of the soul, then, being as it were wholly set on fire into that very sweetness and turned into the fire of love, it rests most at peace from all noise and disturbance. First therefore, because among the perils of temptations counsel is sought, it is as though in meditation there were smoke with flame. Secondly, because with a pure mind the heart is poured out to the contemplation of truth, it is as though at the beginning of contemplation there were flame without smoke. Thirdly, because now, truth having been found and charity perfected, nothing further is sought beyond that 118Bwhich alone is; in the fire of love alone, in the highest tranquillity and felicity, he is sweetly beaten back. Then, when the whole heart is turned into the fire of love, God is truly felt to be all in all, since he is received with so inward a love that, besides him, nothing even of itself is left to the heart. That we may therefore distinguish these three by their proper words: the first is meditation; the second, speculation; the third, contemplation. In meditation, the disturbance of carnal passions, rising up importunately, beclouds the mind kindled with pious devotion. In speculation, the newness of an unwonted vision lifts it up into wonder. In contemplation, the taste of a wondrous sweetness changes the whole into joy and delight. Therefore in meditation there is solicitude; in speculation, wonder; in contemplation, sweetness. 118CYet even spiritual speculation itself is wont to refresh the soul with great delight, when after the wrestling of temptations and the gloom of error it suddenly settles it in unhoped-for peace, and floods it with an unwonted brightness. Into this, therefore, this man, caught up in mind above all things falling and transitory, saw that there is nothing of all things that abides, and, terrified as it were by the stupor of this new and unwonted vision, cried out: Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. For he was gazing upon the whole universe, and upon it wholly subject to vanity, and called its vanity the vanity of all vanities, that is, the vanity containing in itself every vanity, as it were the genus of all genera (in that it contains in itself all the genera of things). For all is vanity, and out of all things 118Dis the universe, and the universe is vanity. But now, since we have already said, as much as seemed fitting for the present, concerning that very kind of contemplation by which this human mind was able to look through into these things concerning man, or concerning human affairs, we shall return to our proposed subject, and shall next distinguish the kinds of all the vanities which, illumined by that same contemplation, he detected to be present in things that fall; because in that we strive first to explain lucidly the very matter of the whole work, we also open its text more manifestly to those who read it. For his whole narrative is woven out of the vanity of temporal things.

There are therefore three kinds of vanities, which this book especially pursues, in which it embraces every vanity: and it testifies that all things which are done under the sun 119Alie subject to these. The first is the vanity of mutability, which is present in all falling things by their condition. The second is the vanity of curiosity, or of cupidity, which is present in the minds of men through the disordered love of passing and vain things. The third is the vanity of mortality, which is present in human bodies through penalty. The first vanity therefore is natural, and fit or congruous. The second vanity is culpable, because it is perverse. The third vanity is penal and wretched. And we call the natural vanity, that is, mutability, fit for this reason: because out of the ordered alternation of passing things the greater beauty of the universe stands firm, and its instability is dispensed to the greater advantage; because in it both weariness is taken away from human minds by the variety of things, and the comeliness 119Bof the universe, as has been said, is increased. For corporeal nature, whose beauty is perfected according to diverse species and forms, is adorned with an ampler comeliness out of its very mutability, while through the intervals of times, and the alteration of things passing away in time and things succeeding in time, it takes what it could not take all at once; because its species come on by succession, which could not be present in it all together. Further, that vanity which rules over depraved minds stands forth so much the more deformed than the rest, inasmuch as mutability was alien to spiritual substance not only through grace but even through nature. Therefore this alone is reproved among all the rest, and before all the rest this alone is shown to be iniquitous and perverse. But the penal vanity, which is in human bodies through mortality, is for this reason 119Ccalled wretched, because man now has it from the penalty of sin, that he lies subject to the condition of things temporally passing away — he who before, in his own creation, had received to stand above the condition of all visible things. For the condition of passing things is that all things which have risen should set, and things increased should grow old. But the nature of man, taken indeed out of corruptible matter, yet through grace raised above corruption and confirmed against corruption, had received this as a gift: that it should indeed have a rising with the rest, but should not have a setting; and that among things to be born, but not to die, it should receive increase by the growths of age, and should not suffer defect. This dignity man lost through the sin of transgression, when, stripped of the robe of immortality, and fallen back to the condition of his own origin, 119Dhe heard from the sentence of the Creator: Earth thou art, and unto earth thou shalt go (Gen. III). To this vanity therefore (which was born to lie subject to the rest) to man alone is it reckoned for a penalty; because man alone had received to stand above it through grace. Since therefore we have distinguished three vanities: the first indeed, that is, the vanity of mutability, is the cause of sin; the second, that is, the vanity of cupidity, is sin; but the third, that is, the vanity of mortality, is the penalty of sin. Therefore the vanity of cupidity is reproved in the vanity of mutability. In the vanity of mortality it is punished. For as the Psalmist says: Man when he was in honour did not understand; but was compared to senseless beasts, and was made like unto them (Psal. XLVIII). For unless he had first, through disordered 120Aconcupiscence of the flesh, inclined himself to the things that belong to beasts, he would in no wise have been made like to beasts through the mortality of the flesh. But now, because through the desire of his mind he began to lean upon mutable things, he too could not be stable in that which he had been. We can still distinguish these vanities by another division, so that the same thing, the more manifoldly it is set forth, may so much the more evidently be known. One vanity is in created things. Another in human works, another in bodies, another in minds. The first is of mutability; the second of curiosity; the third of mortality; the fourth of iniquity. The vanity of mutability is considered in things in two ways: either because they are empty, or because they are transitory. In the one they are vain, because they show what they do not have; in the other they are vain, because they do not remain 120Bin what they have. There they are vain, because they have form alone, and do not have essence. Here they are vain, because although they have some essence, yet they have no substance. There they are vain, because without truth they set an appearance before us. Here they are vain, because they hold out a standing and pass away. So are all things falling and transitory, false and deceiving: they who love vain things, and trust in vanity, and for that reason are made not only vain, but vanity itself out of vanity, fail away.

The vanity of cupidity consists in three things: namely in the concupiscence of the eyes, in the concupiscence of the flesh, and in the pride of life. For in all these there is vanity. For all things which pertain to the flesh, whether they seem good or evil, are neither true evils nor true goods; nor can they always be, whether they be good or evil, 120Cthat which they are. Therefore it is as vain to place hope in those things which seem good as to dread those which are thought evil. For what does the concupiscence of the eyes do? See what it does, and you will find how great a vanity lies hidden, cloaked under this veil. It catches at the deceitful paints of things and at slippery sights. Forgetful of itself, it is poured out abroad, and giving itself wholly to curiosity it goes round all things, ranges over the universe, in case anything new, anything unwonted, anything wondrous should occur — what this or that may mean, what appearance each single thing may have, or what signification they hold out. To all the motions of things it is always changeable, always headlong, rash, forward, unstable, wanton, impatient and slippery; often exulting in vain hope, often trembling with empty fear, having no 120Droot within, but always suspicious, hanging upon the outward motions of things. Before peril it wavers, before danger it trembles; everything which can befall on either side, whether good or evil, fearing and desiring both, it turns aside from vainly, by suspicion alone. It burns after the manner of one impatient, awaiting to see what is to come; at things present it is dissolved, at things that stand firm it is dulled, and at every vicissitude of things, whether they be sad or glad, it is varied by an inconstant fluctuation of the mind. But consider how vain this is. Assuredly every creature is such to a man as he himself is to it, so that by those things which are without, neither can a good mind be harmed, nor an evil one helped. Therefore all these things can be neither for evil to a good man, nor for good to an evil one, 121Aexcept so far as the soul itself either profits by spurning them, or fails by loving them perversely, or by fearing them vainly. How great a vanity then it is, to look upon these things with so great solicitude and curiosity, as though they were of some moment either to give or to take away salvation, and either not to attend to, or to dissemble, those inward goods in which true salvation consists? What shall I say of the concupiscence of the flesh? How vain it is, since the delight of the flesh itself, however great it be, can neither help when past, nor remain when present? What does it profit to defend with so great effort against corruption a flesh that is to die, by the excess of delights and the affluence of pleasures, when there is no one who can guard it from corruption? For as to the pride of life, whether it will glory in riches or in dignities, what can be vainer? 121BFor who would not vainly glory that he is more heavily laden than the rest? This indeed is all that riches, all that dignities confer upon their possessors: that whereas they seem to receive in them more than others, they are thereby found more heavily laden than others; whom certainly, for the acquiring or the keeping of those same things, they always either wear down with labor or afflict with care. But in all these things there is great vanity, and superfluous care. The vanity of mortality, which consists in two things: namely in the penalty which wears down, and in the penalty which dissolves. The penalty which wears down first makes us grow old through the failing of life. The penalty which dissolves afterwards compels us to go into rottenness, and to return, through the corruption of the flesh, into the dust from which we were taken according to the flesh. Hence therefore let man weigh in what vanity every man lives, who unwilling 121Csuffers the corruption of the flesh, because willing he works the corruption of the mind. Wholly then is he subject to vanity who both flows away in flesh through mortality, and in mind through iniquity. But the one of these is his own from himself, the other his own against himself, and the whole is in himself. These three kinds of vanities the author distinguishes at once in the beginning of his book, which afterwards, pursuing them one by one through the whole sequence of his work, he extends by copious disputat one, everywhere reproving in the three that fourth kind of vanity which we said is present in depraved minds, and showing this alone to be liable to fault and owing a penalty. The vanity which is present in created things through mutability he sets forth first. Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. Then in the second place 121Dhe adds the vanity which is in human works. What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? In the third place he subjoins that vanity which is present in human bodies through mortality, saying: One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. And according to these three distinctions he also divides the whole sequence of the following work into three parts, assigning to each its own portion. In the first part, whose beginning is: The sun riseth, and goeth down, he disputes concerning the vanity of mutability. In the second part, which begins thus: I Ecclesiastes was king of Israel in Jerusalem. He pursues most widely the vanity of human cupidity. In the third part (which is placed as it were for a close in the last position in the disputation, whose beginning is: Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth ) he calls to mind the vanity 122Aof mortality, so that the human soul may as it were hear at the end that which it is the more needful to perceive with intent consideration, and to recall to memory the more often. These things we have prepared, according to the grasp of our understanding, for the opening of Ecclesiastes, which is the second of Solomon's books, for those entering upon the reading of it. But we confess that to explain worthily its whole breadth is above our powers: in matters of this kind, covered over with deep profundity, seeking rather to hear a teacher than to snatch a teacher's place. For it is better, as Plato says, modestly to learn what is another's than shamelessly to thrust forward one's own. But if we have been able to say anything fitting upon this, let it be beyond hope and expectation. If anything usefully, not beyond our intention. First, as it were 122Ba certain proem, he sets before his book: in which he distinguishes that threefold matter of the following work which we have called to mind, concerning which he afterwards enters more amply into disputation. The proem therefore is: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity, as far as: The sun riseth, and goeth down. From there the first part of the book is begun, and the rest as we have said. Now let us consider the very words of the letter, whether we may be able to grasp in them anything of the things which have been said above.

Vanity of vanities (said Ecclesiastes), vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. With weight is that to be pronounced which he speaks of himself as though of another: said Ecclesiastes. For because for authority's sake he set down his own person, he fittingly spoke of himself not as of himself, but as of another, so that, since he had to speak of himself as some great one, as the matter 122Cdemanded, he might more becomingly and more maturely say this of himself in another than in himself. So Balaam, speaking of himself, says: He hath said, the hearer of the words of God, who hath beheld the visions of the Almighty, who falleth and hath his eyes opened (Num. XXIV). And John in his Gospel. He speaks of himself as though of another, saying: This is that disciple whom Jesus loved, who giveth testimony of these things, and we know that his testimony is true (Joan. XXI). And Paul speaks of himself as though of another to the Corinthians, saying: I know a man in Christ, whether in the body, or out of the body, I know not, God knoweth, such a one caught up even to the third heaven, and such a one caught up into paradise, and that he heard secret words, which it is not granted to man to utter (II Cor. XII). But this kind 122Dof speech, as often as it is taken up in Scripture, is done either for the sake of humility, or of admiration — namely, that when we would say great things, we should rather ascribe them as it were to others, lest it seem either proud or excessive, if we should attribute them to ourselves. For we ought both to remove great things from ourselves for humility's sake, and to show wondrous things as it were from afar, for admiration's sake. For those things are less wondrous which come nearer to knowledge. Therefore, that the minds of all may be raised up to the utterance that is to come, and may awake as at some miracle of newness, it is rightly said: Said Ecclesiastes. As if it were said: What so great and such a one has said could not be vain, even though he said it concerning vanity. The common teacher and the instructor of all, Ecclesiastes himself, has said it. What did he say? Hear what he said, and attend. For they are no small things 123Athat are said: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. If all is vanity, then he also is vanity who said this. And how will it stand firm that what vanity said concerning vanity is not vain? But if it is true that what he said is vain, it is not to be heard, but spat out. What then shall we say? Either not all is vanity, as he said, and he said what is false; or all is vanity, as he said, and he himself is vanity, and said a vain thing. But assuredly, as he himself said: All is vanity, and he himself, who said it, is vanity; and not only vanity, but even universal vanity: and yet what he said is not vanity, but truth; because in that which he said he himself was not vanity, since he said against vanity what he said concerning vanity; and it is agreed that he could not be contrary to vanity in that in which he was vanity 123B. Something therefore was in him which was not vanity, and that could speak not vainly against vanity. But what was this, or where was it? Assuredly, if we shall say that this body was it, or something in the body, which spoke without vanity concerning vanity: then could the body, which is corrupted, subject to vanity and born for vanity, at some time be without vanity — a body which wholly lives in vanity? We remember the saying of the Psalmist: Universal vanity, every man living (Psal. XXXVIII). For that which dies is the very thing which lives: which is born that it may live, and lives that it may die. But what is it that dies, save that which is deprived of life? That therefore dies in man which is extinguished from life. And what is this, save the body and the bodily sense? For it is not itself after the living creature, 123Cfrom which it is a living creature, and when it ceases to be capable of sensation, the sense ceases to be. Therefore that which dies in man is the very thing which lives in man; which is for that reason subject to vanity, because it is liable to mortality. Therefore the bodily sense could not reprove vanity, in which nothing can be found free and pure from vanity. What then must be said this was? Was it perhaps the soul? Have we not shown above that it too is subject to vanity? For in it we placed the vanity of iniquity: which stands forth so much the more deformed than all other things, in that from it alone the others have either that they are harmful, or that they are at all. For without this vanity, neither would there be the vanity of mortality, nor would the vanity of mutability be harmful 123D. How then can the soul, which is subject to so great a vanity, truly reprove vanity? Or is something surviving found in it free from vanity, and was it said without cause: Universal vanity, every man living? For man is universal vanity, because in body and in mind he is subject to vanity. What man? Every man living. Not every man life, but every man living. For man is both life and man is living. Where the life, and where the living. Life in that which quickens; living in that which is quickened. And the flesh lives from the soul, and the soul from the flesh: and both live, but the flesh has wholly from the soul that it lives? the soul has not wholly in the flesh that it lives. For it lives also in God, and would that it did live? What lives in the flesh is vain. What lives in God 124Ais not vain, but is true, because it is from truth. In that part therefore in which it lives from truth, it truly reproves vanity, and it is found how vanity reproves vanity, not through vanity but through truth. Rightly therefore Ecclesiastes, who in mind was lifted above all vanity and had come through to truth itself, saw sublimely in that same truth what he truly said concerning the reproving of vanity: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. The driving home of the words with the affection of the speaker signifies both the greatness of the matter and the newness of the wonder. And it is a sentiment uttered with heightening. For there are certain degrees, and as it were certain progressions, for one going both to the better and to the worse. For thus is it said the Song of songs, and the age of ages 124B, just as here it is now said: Vanity of vanities — so that by a certain like distance and a similar difference the Song of songs may be understood to excel above the song only so far as a song excels a word, and next a word silence. And an age of ages to excel an age only so far as an age alone excels a moment, or again a moment nothing. And with a like progression made here by the contrary: that vanity of vanities is worse than simple vanity by so much as simple vanity is worse than a solid and abiding essence. Thus by driving home the sentiment may be read: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity — so that in all things vanity of every kind may be expressed, and out of all things a certain sum may be understood to be made up, which contains every vanity, so that as it were each single 124Cthing is by itself vanity, and the universe gathered out of them all is vanity of vanities. So in the creation of things, when God was completing his works, each single work is by itself called good (Gen. I), and last of all, all things being perfected, the universe is named very good. For if that which in part is good is found better in the whole, that also which in part is evil must needs be worse in the whole. Therefore vanity is of vanities, and the vanity of all vanities is universal vanity, and the universality of vanity is all vanity. Or else that vanity of human minds is here reproved by comparison with the other vanities: which, as risen out of the other vanities, and having surpassed all vanities by comparison of vanity, is deservedly called vanity 124Dof vanities. It can also not incongruously be that this threefold repetition of vanity is referred to the three kinds of vanities recalled above, so that as it were one of the vanities is the work of man, another mortal nature, the third this whole world with its universe of mutable things. For this man considered the works of mortals, and saw of each single one that with labor and grief they come to their effect. When made they subsist for a brief time; but passing away they leave no fruit behind them. He saw with how great affliction and misery human life is worn down daily without ceasing, even in those things which it works for its own consolation, and how it almost always suffers more loss in seeking a remedy than it receives of consolation in obtaining a solace. And in all these things, at how vainly every man living is troubled, wondering and amazed 125Ahe says: Vanity of vanities. Then, attending to the very condition of mortals, and finding in it a greater and more miserable vanity, he saw that if it is reckoned a great vanity when that which man makes passes away, then that vanity is altogether to be grieved over and pitied when that which man is cannot stand. Upon this therefore, redoubling again, he cried out and said: Vanity of vanities. Last of all, beholding the inconstantinam and the fluctuation of all mutable things hastening to their setting, concluding as it were in a sum he added and said: All is vanity.

What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? What hath he more — it is understood — than that which has been said of all things: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity? As 125Bif he were saying: If all things are subject to vanity, how can the works of men be alien from vanity? If according to something that is vain which God created, how is that not much more vain which man makes? If that is temporal which the Eternal made, what is that which the temporal makes? Therefore what hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? He laboureth under the sun, namely either as acting or as suffering. Distinguish these two: he who acts and he who suffers labors under the sun; each labors, both he who acts labors, and he who suffers labors. But this is the difference, that the one labors as though unwilling, the other willingly. For he who acts labors, and himself makes that from which he labors. But he who suffers labors, and does not himself make, but sustains, that from which he labors. These two kinds of men live in this world, namely those who labor 125Cand act, and those who labor and suffer. Who are they that labor and act? Hear the Psalmist: Nevertheless universal vanity, every man living. Nevertheless man passeth as an image; yea and he is disquieted in vain. He storeth up, and knoweth not for whom he shall gather these things (Psal. XXXVIII). Who are they that labor and suffer? Hear Paul the apostle: The creature, he says, was made subject to vanity, not willingly; but by reason of him that made it subject, in hope (Rom. VIII). Therefore both labor: both those, namely, to whom this life is sweet, and those to whom this life is bitter. Those labor to enjoy its delights; these labor to be freed from its misery. Those labor in fear lest they go hence quickly; these labor in dread lest they remain here long. The labor of the former is reproved for vain solicitude. The labor 125Dof the latter is crowned for patience. To the former it is said: Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof (Matth. VI). And that: Be not solicitous, saying: What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed? (Ibid.) To the latter it is said: Be you also patient, strengthen your hearts (Jac. V). And that: If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him. If we die with him, we believe that we shall live also together with him (II Tim. II). To the former it is said: Ye sons of men, how long will ye be dull of heart, why do ye love vanity, and seek after lying? (Psal. IV.) To the latter it is said: Blessed are all they that fear the Lord, that walk in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labours of thy hands, blessed art thou, and it shall be well with thee (Psal. CXXVII). Therefore the labor of the former has a penalty in the work, and a penalty in the recompense. 126ABut the labor of the latter has indeed a penalty in the work, but a reward in the recompense. In the labor of the former there is true misery. In the fruit of their labor, a false and vain consolation. In the labor of the latter, a temporal and transitory affliction. In the fruit of their labor, eternal blessedness. Therefore the labor of the former is empty in its fruit, true in its misery. The labor of the latter is transitory in its penalty, eternal in its fruit. But there, for the evil man, what of good seems to be present is vain; the evil of these men which appears is as it were vain, because it is transitory; but the good which does not appear is perpetual. Let it not therefore seem wondrous that we call the evil in this life laboring and acting, but the good only laboring and suffering, since if we look more closely upon the truth, we shall find the evil always laboring by acting, and the good always by suffering. 126BFor as incontinence harasses the evil even then when they seem to be at rest, so patience keeps the good tranquil even when they are set in labors. Wherefore in a certain wondrous manner all the good and the just, when for God's sake they waste themselves with voluntary affliction, then also labor by suffering; because, setting themselves against themselves, what outwardly they inflict by raging in strictness, inwardly, remaining quiet and without disturbance, they bear in patience. But all the perverse and lovers of the carnal life, even then when they sustain evils brought upon them from without by another's violence, because inwardly they disturb themselves with the goads of fury and of impatience, they rather themselves make that from which they labor. Therefore the good labor in this life, but the evil labor even for the sake of this life; because the temporal labors to which all the depraved 126Cand perverse subject themselves for the obtaining of temporal sweetness, the good bear patiently for the sake of eternal consolation. But because this mortal life, in which and for which men labor, tends daily through the spaces of living to the end of life, rightly is all the labor of man reckoned in the number of the vanities, when it is said: What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? It is understood: apart from vanity.

It is to be noted, however, that he does not say: What more is the labor of man? But: What hath a man more, he says, of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? Whence it stands firm that here the matter treated is not so much the labor of man as the fruit and profit of human labor; 126Dbecause it is not asked what or of what sort the labor of man is, but what fruit man obtains of all his labor by which he labors under the sun. And all this fruit is declared to be nothing other than vanity, when it is said: What hath he more? As if it were said: Man hath nothing more than vanity of his labor. Therefore vanity is the whole fruit of man's labor, and every man labors in vain, being about to receive nothing but vanity of all his labor. Was the labor then of the saints also vain, who faithfully served God, and for love of him suffered so many torments and kinds of tortures? Who would presume to say this? For how was the labor of those men vain who, vexed indeed for a little while, came through transitory griefs to abiding joys, and through a temporal death obtained everlasting life? 127AOr is that labor to be called vain for this reason, because what they suffered has passed away: and yet according to something not vain, because what they received abides? For that even the labor of the just is vain — so far, that is, as regards the transitory penalty and this as it were imaginary appearance of misery — the Psalmist seems to hint, when he says: Thou who framest labour in commandment (Psal. XCIII). For God as it were frames labor for his elect, when outwardly, as though angry, he inflicts upon them by judgment a temporal penalty, for whom inwardly, by the providence of his mercy, he keeps the rewards of eternal blessedness. Since therefore the Psalmist names the labor of the just, and this imaginary grief, because it has the appearance of misery but does not have true misery, a framed thing, he assuredly shows 127Bthat this same labor can also, according to something, be not unfittingly called vain. Behold therefore the labor of the work passes away. What was vain passes away; what was transitory has passed away: the labor has passed away, the grief has passed away. Has the fruit of the work passed away, or the wage of the labor? Therefore it is permitted: behold, according to a certain manner of speaking, the labor itself and the temporal grief is not unfittingly called vain. Yet will the wage of that same labor ever rightly be called vanity? God forbid! How then shall that stand which was said: What hath a man more of all his labour? For it was said of the reward of labor and not of the labor itself, of the profit, not of the work: What hath a man more of all his labour? Behold, man hath more, and much more hath he, 127Cand thou sayest: What more hath he? Therefore he added and said: That he laboureth under the sun. Behold, we have the difficulty of this question resolved. For here he openly shows what labors he reproves of vanity. Those which are done, he says, under the sun. What is it, to be done under the sun? Perhaps what he says, under the sun, is to be taken simply; because men, dwelling in this lower part of the world, receive from above the light of the sun, and are lighted so that they may see for the doing of the works necessary to human uses. For on this account the times of human life have been so distributed by divine providence in alternating turns, that the very vicissitude of the alternating times might repair sick bodies wearied by too great a stretching out of their actions. Therefore night and day unceasingly succeed one another 127Dwith mutual evenness, so that by day the sun, passing over from its rising to its setting in its course above, may pour out its light on every side upon the things beneath it, and, illuminating human eyes by its presence, may rouse both those eyes and those of the other living things of the earth to the exercise of acting, and at the same time afford the means of working. But by night, withdrawing itself from human sight, and, as with certain swaddling-bands of infancy, spreading over them the veil of darkness and covering the eyes of mortals, it may foster their weary limbs to rest and slumber, that it may restore them again, repaired and more eager, to labor and to the day's exercise. This wondrous order of the divine dispensation the Psalmist beheld, when, commending God's works, he calls this to mind among the rest as something excellent and worthy of no small praise, saying: He hath made 128Athe moon for seasons; the sun knoweth his going down. Thou hast appointed darkness, and it is night: in it shall all the beasts of the woods go about. The young lions roaring after their prey, and seeking their meat from God. The sun ariseth, and they are gathered together, and they shall lie down in their dens. Man shall go forth to od his work, and to his labour until the evening (Psal. CIII). Hence also is that which God promises to Noah as he goes out of the ark after the flood, as for some great sign of his loving-kindness and gift of his bounty, saying: All the days of seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, night and day shall not cease (Gen. VIII). Beautifully therefore he said that men, distended down below in this ark of the world through the various runnings-about of the occupations of mortal life, labor under the sun, so that this too belongs to the vanity 128Bof human work: that a light passing over from above, and to be ended in darkness, gives light to man for his working. For he considered how abject and wretched is the condition of mortals, who upon the surface of the earth, like certain worms creeping in vain curiosity, are roused by a light suddenly poured in from above, as though to be mocked, to snatch at what they vainly desire, and, the same being withdrawn after a little, are wrapped about again in a sudden blindness, and can in no wise go forward further into effect. Therefore the very light by which they are lighted is shown to them from afar and at a distance from above, and unapproachable to man, so that it may be proved to stand in no way in man's power; so far that man receives from it only so much as the graces of God, who bestows and orders all things, shall have permitted, not so much as 128Cman's perverse will, serving cupidity, desires. A great vanity therefore it is to labor under the sun, and small confidence to labor under the sun: whose light, however pleasant to look upon and delightful to the sight it be, yet cannot always be present to human eyes nor profit them. But if it please us to push our consideration yet higher and to look into the matter more subtly, we can take time to be signified by the name of the sun, so that what he said, under the sun, may be the same as if he had said, under time. For because chiefly by the sun both the course of the times is distinguished and the nature of temporal things is varied, time itself is fittingly expressed by the sun, when it is said under the sun it is the same as if he had said, under time. But has he perhaps in this too willed to intimate in nuere something to us, in that he did not say in time or with time, 128Dbut under time: and must a discernment be had by us, that we may understand that some things are those which were as it were made with time; but others those which were either made in time, or are done under time? Let us discern therefore, if we can, whether perchance we may be able to find the reason why he said rather that the works of men are vain as made under time than either with time or in time. All things which were made were either made with time, or in time. For those things were made with time whose rising time did not precede: such as the angelic nature, and that formless matter of visible things, which in the beginning God created. Those things were made in time whose rising time preceded, such as those works of the six days in which God perfected and completed 129Athe fabric of this sensible world; but those things also which afterwards were made formally, or essentially, were all made in time. Again, of those things which are done in time, some are done in time and under time, others are done in time only, not under time. Those are done in time and not under time which indeed begin in time, but are not ended in time. Those are done in time and under time which both begin in time and are ended in time. Likewise, of those things which are done under time, some are done for the sake of time, others are done for the sake of eternity. Those therefore which are done for the sake of time are vain both in act and in fruit. But those which are done for the sake of eternity are indeed vain in act; but in fruit they are not vain, because, even if they pass away in the work, yet they abide in the recompense. For a good work 129Bis not this alone which appears outwardly transitory; because it consists both of a visible action and of an invisible devotion. For, as man consists of a living thing and of life, and the living thing indeed dies, but the life does not die; so without doubt the good has both a visible action in itself, and an invisible devotion. The visible action is as it were the body; the inward devotion is as it were the spirit. The action lives through devotion, as the body through the soul. But devotion quickens the action, as the soul the body. For every action which is without devotion is dead. Therefore the visible action itself as it were lives, and the invisible devotion itself is life. But that which lives, this dies; but that which is life, this does not die. Because a transitory action, just as it has its beginning from time, so indeed it is ended in time. That therefore which dies, 129Cwhich is ended, which passes away, which is given over to mutability, is itself liable to vanity. But that which is life, which abides, which does not admit of an end or of corruption, does not itself admit vanity. Let it be said therefore: What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? it is understood: apart from vanity. Nothing more, because all things which are done under the sun are vain. And what would he have of vain things but vanity? What then? Will good works which are done under the sun be able to confer nothing more upon those who work them than vanity? And how did we say above that this question was resolved by that which he says, under the sun? Behold, the same question rises up for us again, no less difficult than the one above, because we cannot deny that good works too are done under the sun, that is, under time, according to what 129Dhas been expounded above; and yet we do not dare to say that nothing but vanity follows from them. And behold, the book plainly says: What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? But if we are willing to consider the very words more diligently, it is plainly shown what those works are which are reproved as vain. For he did not say: What hath a man more of all his labour which is done, or which was done, under the sun? But rather he says, which man himself laboureth under the sun. He does not therefore reprove the labor so much as the laborer as being under the sun. So that because man himself, set under the sun, labors, therefore what he labors at is vain. But who is he who labors under the sun? He who, pressed down by love of temporal and transitory 130Athings, labors for the obtaining of the same, if he does not have them, or for the keeping of them, if he has them. This man, set under the sun, labors, and this man labors in vain. But he who exercises good works for the hope and desire of eternal things, this man does not labor under the sun, even though the labor in which he labors is under the sun; because, although the work which he carries through is temporal, yet he himself transcends all temporal and falling things in mind and in devotion. This man therefore does not labor in vain, even though that in which he labors is vain; because that for which he labors is not vain. And when that which is vain, in which he labors, has passed away, he has ready that which is not vanity, for which he labors. Such a man therefore does not belong to that sentiment in which it was said: What hath a man more of all his labour that he laboureth under the sun? Because he does not 130Blabor under the sun, but above the sun, who does not set the wage of his labor in things rolling and passing away with time.

One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. Behold vanity. One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. This human nature conceived, corrupted in the first root of its stock, and, sown together with this same corruption, it sprouted out into the whole offspring of posterity. For the first parent of the human race, as soon as he heard: Earth thou art and unto earth thou shalt go, from that time made mortal, because he fell from the state of incorruption, began as it were to pass over from life to death through mortality. This way therefore all men after him pass through, who descend from him by the birth of the flesh. This is that vanity of which the Psalmist spoke, saying: Nevertheless 130Cuniversal vanity, every man living. Nevertheless man passeth as an image (Psal. XXXVIII). This vanity therefore, as greater than the rest and more horrible to human minds because of the dread necessity of death, he added in the last place, so that man might hear this at the end, in which he may more evidently recognize the misery of his own condition. For the first vanity is not even in the name; nor is it referred to man. The second vanity is indeed not in man; but yet it is referred to man. The third vanity both is in man, and is referred to man. Accordingly, as though advancing by certain steps always to higher things, he set first that vanity which is neither the penalty of man nor his fault. Then he added that vanity which is not the penalty of man, but the fault. Last of all, that which is not the fault, but the penalty: 130Dalthough yet neither can such a fault ever be without penalty, nor is such a penalty — at least in those to whom the sacrament of salvation does not come to aid — altogether free from fault. But I have called that the fault of man, not the penalty, and this the penalty, not the fault; because in the one man's desert is discerned, and in the other judgment is found. This penalty therefore, as heavier and more monstrous than the rest, he set last: which, though it be not more wicked than the fault, is yet more grievous to the flesh, and more effectual for the rousing of carnal minds. Let him say therefore: One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. As if he were saying: If you think it is to be neglected that everything you do is vain, is even this to be neglected, that you yourselves are vanity? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. If the dying 131Adepart and those who are to die follow after, what joy is there? The grief of the living seems indeed to receive consolation in those who are born; but from that whence it is thought to be ended so that it should not be, from thence it receives that it should always be. For that the dying depart is grief. What consolation follows in that those who are to die come on? A consolation which is bounded by mourning. And what can be vainer in either? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. If some lamentable chance were to involve only a few, or at least not all, it would seem tolerable; but as it is, a savage plague drags all with it to destruction. One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. If it passeth away, whither does it go? If it cometh, whence does it come? Alas, dread lot! How canst thou be secure, O man, wrapped in such great darkness? Behold, thou knowest that by living thou tendest to death. But canst thou know 131Bof what sort, or where, thou art to be after death? Consider therefore in how great a vanity thou livest, thou who daily seest that which thou art pass away; nor yet canst thou by any reasoning know of what sort is that which thou art to be. One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh.

But the earth standeth for ever. Hearken, O man, and blush. The earth standeth for ever. Why does the earth stand, and thou canst not stand, for whose sake the earth was made? Perhaps thou wilt say, because it stands for thy consolation. It stands that it may send forth those who come, bear those who pass over, and receive those who depart. For those who are born come from the earth by the origin of the flesh, and the living pass over upon the earth by the mutability of the flesh, and the dying return into the earth by the corruption of the flesh. Therefore it stands for thy consolation; nay rather it stands for thy confusion 131C. How? See of what sort it stands, of what sort it bears, and whom it bears, and out of what sort it bears. Of what sort therefore does it bear? Hear of what sort: Cursed is the earth in thy work; thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee (Gen. III). And whom does it bear? Hear again: Cursed art thou upon the earth (Gen. IV). And out of what sort does it bear: In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat thy bread; and thou shalt eat the herbs of the earth? (Gen. III.) Therefore the cursed bears the cursed. And yet it bears them. But from that whence it bears, it has something for thy consolation and something for thy penalty. What is for thy consolation is with thy labor; what is for thy penalty is through thy labor. It has bread, and it has thorns also. Bread with thy labor, for thy consolation; thorns through thy labor, for thy penalty. In the sweat of thy face 131Dshalt thou eat thy bread: this is for thy consolation, with thy labor. When thou hast worked, the earth will not give thee its fruit, but thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee. This is for thy penalty, through thy labor. Therefore it stands not only for thy consolation, but much more it stands for thy confusion. It stands not only for the easing of thy misery, but it stands for the testimony and the penalty of thy fault. The earth standeth, and thou standest upon the earth. Stable is she who bears, and thou fallest in ruin who art borne. Why is this? Art thou too not earth? What then was said to thee: Earth thou art, and unto earth thou shalt go? Therefore thou art earth, and thou art upon the earth, and thou art of earth. Why then dost thou not stand for ever? Hast thou been made weaker than that earth from which thou wast taken? What then did the hand of the craftsman work, if it did not advance 132Aits work to something better? Was there then no knowledge with him, or was he found weak, so that in his hands that good matter should be made worse? God forbid! Nay rather, he made thee much better than that had been out of which he made thee; because he had made the earth stable, but thee he made out of earth immortal. Therefore he made thee better than that had been out of which he made thee. Not therefore from the craftsman did thy corruption proceed, who made thee with so great power and with such goodness that nothing could be less than perfect, nothing would he have worse than the best. And so the best craftsman made a good thing formed, whose eternal incorruption and immortal goodness neither begets a fault nor receives a fault.

But perhaps the matter is to be blamed, which was such that nothing else could be made of it. For the matter was earth, and there came forth an earthen vessel. What? This is a wonder. 132BThou therefore, in saying this, oughtest to have looked to this: that, if thou art an earthen vessel, then thou wast hardened out of soft mud into a potsherd, and thy clod, if it had not the nature of firmness, yet had the nature of confirmation. If it had not that this should be by nature, yet it had by nature that this could be by grace. Therefore thy matter did thee no harm, which both keeps whole what nature conferred, and does not itself diminish what grace gave. For the earth standeth for ever. What is standeth? It perseveres in that which it was made; it keeps its own nature; it does not desert its own condition; what it received, this it retains uncorrupted. Earth it was made, and earth it remains; never is it other than what it is. And when it is other, it is other not by the failing of corruption, but by the advance of exaltation. Just as in thee 132Cit has been made other, and is to be other, than it was born; but by exaltation, not by corruption. And when in certain earthly things it seems to carry itself over from one thing into another, yet it is never other than it is; because it is earth, and always it is earth, and that which passes over is earth and that into which it passes over is earth; and when this passes over into that, or into that other, yet that which is earth does not pass over, which in this and in that is the same. Therefore the earth has to be moved within the bosom of its own nature, and has to work out of that which it is, that which it is: it has not to pass over beyond the bounds of its own nature out of that which it is into that which it is not: and for that reason, the earth standeth for ever in that which it is not. Why therefore hast not thou too stood in that in which thou wast made upon the earth, just as 132Dthe earth stands in that in which it was made? Why hast thou degenerated, so as not even to imitate thy matter, which so far keeps what it is, that even when thou hast been made together with the earth, thou canst not be other than the earth is? As far as that thou flowest away by thy own fault; beyond it thou art not permitted to go forward by its nature. Behold how much it guards what it is, so that even when it has received thee, flowing and unstable, it does not suffer thee to pass over further into another thing which itself is not. Whence then is it for thee to flow away? Search diligently, and think. Neither thy craftsman nor thy matter did this for thee; because she, both by standing for ever, keeps in thee also what she herself is, and he, by making thee for eternity, gave also more than she is. Whence therefore is this for thee, save from thy own fault, out of which it is now a penalty for thee that thou returnest into her, to whom this had been given of grace, that thou shouldest stand always 133Aabove her? Therefore thou passest away, and the earth standeth in testimony against thee, so that, reproving thee as mortal and receiving thee as dying, it may convict thee before it punishes thee. Therefore the earth standeth for ever. One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth standeth for ever.

These things we have said, according to the littleness or the scantiness of our understanding, upon the opening of the book of Solomon which is called Ecclesiastes, in no way presuming that we have said what most of all had to be said, since it is so great a thing for us only not to have said what had not to be said. But for the rest it must be known that this book requires a certain new kind of exposition; because, since it wholly aims at moving the affections of the human heart, one must more often form one's discourse in it as though by conversing than by expounding. Whence 133Bit is needful in these matters sometimes even to dwell longer upon words in those things which seem plain and open, so that the very driving home of the utterance may touch more strongly and penetrate more effectually the heart of the hearer. He who shall wish to handle this Scripture otherwise, even if he serves conveniently the understanding of his hearers, yet, not retaining its force and property, profits perhaps less unto edification.

The words of Ecclesiastes, which testify that all things under the sun are vain, have — I know not by what compact — just now, when they were read, been made sweet in our ears. And behold, we have begun willingly to hear our own evils, and what we do not love 133Cwe nevertheless love to hear. For we do not love our own evils, and we love to hear our own evils; because by hearing the evils which we do not love, we remember the goods which we do love. And this very remembrance of goods (even amid evils) is sweet to the soul, and assuredly so much the sweeter the more bitter are those evils themselves, which, whether by hearing or by feeling, we recognize to be far from those goods for which, at least by remembrance, we sigh. This was the whole reason why we wonder that this recital alone has just now been savory to us, in which the hardship of our exile is described to us, and it is declared of what sort and how great our misery and calamity is. For our mind, in the hearing of its own evils, as though awaking out of a certain sleep of former time, suddenly 133Drecognized where it was, and, amazed and wondering at so great an abyss of ruin, began at the same time also to consider from how great a height it had fallen into this very depth of misery, and, because it could not yet do so in effect, it sighed after that height with a certain wondrous desire of inward ardor. This therefore was what in those words which recited our misery drew our affection. This made it that it should ever be pleasing to us thus to hear our own evils, and that whatever that be which is perceived along with that which is so sweet cannot be bitter. This daily makes their very laments sweet to the wretched, and amid sighs and groans feeds the afflicted delightfully with tears; because the remembrance of the things that are loved is sweeter amid adversities, and the soul itself burns the more with desire of things absent, is touched the more sweetly by the memory of things past, 134Ais the more strongly inflamed by the deferring of things to come. This our Ecclesiastes knew excellently well, who in his whole narrative so diligently pursues the vanity of passing things, that out of the consideration of it he may admonish the human heart to meditate upon heavenly things and to awake in desire of things eternal. For he knew that the more evidently the vanity of those things which pass away in time is recognized, the more sublimely within is the eye of the mind opened to the state of eternity. Beginning therefore, in this first part of his work, he shows that all things are vain which are under the sun, that is, that whatsoever things are visible are subject to corruption, or liable to mutability. For he shows that neither in heaven, nor under heaven, nor upon the earth, nor in the earth is there anything perpetual which does not suffer vicissitude nor 134Bpass over into alteration. And therefore that nothing truly is out of all those things which are always without ceasing drawn into that which they are not, and cannot keep stable or uncorrupted what they are.

The sun riseth, and goeth down, and returneth to his place: and there rising again, he goeth about by the south, and turneth again to the north. This is to be distinguished by itself. Then follows:

Surveying all things round about, the spirit goeth forward, and returneth in his circuits. And this is to be set down by itself. Afterwards follows:

All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea doth not overflow: unto the place from whence the rivers come, they return, to flow again. And this is to be joined together.

Three things therefore he seems to set forth as an argument 134Cfor the mutability of all things: the sun, the spirit, the rivers, that is, fire, air, moisture — so that by the sun fire, by the spirit air, by the rivers moisture may be understood to be signified, as the whole from a part. For above he set the earth as it were an immovable foundation in the middle place. Now he disposes the other three elements, that is, fire, air, water, fluctuating about it with unstable motion, so that in the procreating of mutable things he may show that to these three elements the motion of acting and, in a certain manner, the office of the craftsman has been assigned. But that the earth lies subject, immovable, as a certain matter of all things to be procreated; powerless indeed to act, but only fit that out of it, while the rest work, there may be formed those things which are to be created 134D. Through these three elements therefore nature exercises its power in that fourth, which elements, running about that fourth and in it by a wondrous law, and tempering one another, bring forth out of it so many innumerable forms and species of things as are shown by the yearly, the monthly, the daily vicissitudes of the seasons, alternating continually without ceasing in their approach and their withdrawal. Since therefore all things being born which rise out of the earth and receive from the earth their substance and nourishment obtain the nature of vital motion from these three elements, rightly did he place in them both the origin of mutability, and did he express the nature and property of all mutable things, so that in these we may equally see both whence it is that whatever rises under time cannot stand, and by what way that which is not comes forth to be present, or that which 135Ais returns to not being. The sun riseth, and goeth down, and returneth to his place, and there rising again he goeth about by the south, and turneth again to the north. In few words he has embraced a great matter: concerning which we must say some things according to the time, yet not detain the hearer's mind longer upon such matters, lest we seem, against our own purpose, to be rolled away from the sacred exposition into describing the courses of the stars. All these things indeed have been said for this alone, that the human mind may be the more conveniently roused by the recital of those things which it knows, and that through these it may awake to think upon those things which it does not know: and therefore it ought not to be a weariness to us, nor seem unworthy, to attend diligently to those things which the divine discourse has taken care to recount diligently to us. He shows therefore by what way 135Bthis great luminary, which illuminates all things by its presence, is carried round in this globe of the sensible world with unceasing agitation, and by its approach and withdrawal works the various changes of things. The sun riseth, and goeth down, and returneth to his place. First he shows that it has a circular motion, and always returns to that from which it goes forward, so that, because in a circle no end can be found, its course may be shown to be perpetual. The sun riseth, and goeth down, and returneth to his place. Then he describes the windings of its progression, saying: He goeth about by the south, and turneth again to the north — so that this very thing may belong to the great changing of things, that it does not always in the same manner nor in a straight line direct its course as it goes. The sun riseth, and goeth down. It riseth daily, when emerging 135Cit is presented to human sight. It goeth down, when descending to the lower parts according to the convexity of its circum actionis it withdraws itself from our eyes. It returneth to his place; because, its rolling driving it on, it is called back beneath again to its rising. But after its rising, tending to its setting, it is first turned toward the south, because by an oblique course, especially when it tarries in the summer signs, it climbs from the rising to the meridian line. But then, descending to the setting, it is bent again by an oblique progression toward the north. Still another exposition, fitting enough, can be applied to these words: namely, that we take all these things to be said not of the long-continued but of the yearly course of the sun. For the sun riseth to us when, 135Dentering through the vernal equinox, it rises toward our pole. But it goeth down, when going out through the autumnal equinox it descends to the lower parts. It goeth about by the south, when it tarries in the winter signs. It turneth again to the north, when it is carried round in the summer signs, which are nearer to the northern pole. The sun riseth therefore, and at its rising all things equally rise which revive from its heat. It goeth down, and at once, the vital fire being withdrawn, all things fall which flourished from its presence. It goeth about by the south, that the winter's cold may temper the summer's burnings. It turneth again to the north, that those things which the winter's frost and icy torpor had bound fast may, warmed again by the summer's heats, be quickened. Thou seest therefore how great changes of things one body draws along with it.

136ASurveying all things round about, the spirit goeth forward, and returneth in his circuits. If by the spirit we have taken the air, then in fitting order, after he had described the instability of the heavenly element, he shows that the lower things also suffer the same law, saying: Surveying all things round about, the spirit goeth forward. As if he were saying: If the force of nature does not suffer those things which are in heaven to stand, it is necessary that the same condition of mutability govern those things also which are under heaven. Indeed, just as to the sun? so also to the air he attributes an orbicular motion, so that its agitation may be shown to be perpetual. But that he subjoins in the plural: He returneth in his circuits — this can signify that the motion of the air is not always and everywhere the same, but that, since in one place it is stirred more vehemently, in another more moderately, its very fluctuation, 136Bpoured back into itself by a reversed turn, is moved unequally; and does not uniformly come to rest, so that we may not be forced to extend a motion once begun as far as the uttermost, but that the several motions and impulses, made as it were upon themselves; and gradually, the motion languishing over the space, come to rest. But that also which he says, Surveying, is aptly attributed to this element, in that by its mobility it cleanses and scatters all the filth sprinkled or gathered anywhere. Or because, penetrating all things by its subtlety, it pours itself out everywhere. Or else this word is coupled to the preceding sentiment thus: The sun riseth, and goeth down, and returneth to his place; and there rising again he goeth about by the south, and turneth again to the north, surveying all things round about. And here, a distinction being made, then the following sentiment is brought in thus: 136CThe spirit goeth forward, etc. For the sun by its course surveys all things round about; because it touches all the parts of the world, rising or setting through the diverse signs. For in Cancer, rising and setting, it touches the north. In Capricorn, the south. In Libra and in Aries, it passes through the middle by the rising and the setting. There follows: The spirit goeth forward, and returneth in his circuits. According to the preceding exposition, we can now not incongruously incovenienter take the spirit to be that fiery power which, proceeding from the sun itself, pours itself out through all things, and, invisibly penetrating the universe, quickens and moves it. Whence the ancients also said that nature is. A craftsman fire, going forward into sensible things to be procreated. For of vital motion, and of sensible quickening, in all things that are born 136Dthe fiery power is the origin: which supplies increase to all things, and, feeding and cherishing them with an invisible nourishment, brings them at length to an invisible substance. And this hidden power of nature, moving and feeding all things, the poet also named a spirit: and his words are well known: First, the heaven and the lands, and the liquid plains, And the shining globe of the moon, and the Titanian stars, A spirit within doth nourish: and, poured through the limbs, Mind stirs the whole mass, and mingles itself with the great body. (Aeneid. VI, 688.) Although in these words he seems rather to approve that error which asserts that this sensible world is as it were a soul consisting of soul and body, and that its very soul is the spirit moving all things. But 137Ain whatever way the opinion of those who err be expounded, we with a sound understanding can take the spirit going forward into all things, and returning in his circuits, to be the hidden power of nature, which invisibly nourishes and quickens the universe, and leads each single thing to a certain end and lawful term. This spirit therefore, that is, the hidden power of nature, surveys all things; because, pouring itself out invisibly through all the parts of things, it distributes to each its proper quality according to the capacity of its nature. It goeth forward, and returneth, because it first advances by increase all things which rise in time, and then leads them back, as they grow old, to their origin. For it goeth forward, because it goes out in things being born, and in things growing it proceeds as far as a certain measure. It returneth, because in things growing old, and slipping backward through the failing 137Bof their nature, it is called back as far as the beginning of its own origin. Thus therefore we rightly take the courses and progressions of individual things to be as it were certain circles and orbs running back into themselves; because all things that have risen in time return at length by their setting thither whence they went out by the beginning of their birth. And each single thing indeed is proved to have, according to its own measure and the time in which it subsists, a course differing from another, that is, greater or less. But all things are known to have, as one origin, so also one end; because all things return by their setting to the earth, which at the beginning of their rising went out of the earth. Just as therefore the sun riseth and goeth down, and returneth to his place, so the spirit goeth forward, and returneth in his circuits. Because 137Cjust as in the body of the sun the fire, going forward locally, is led back to the beginning of its rising, so also naturally in all things that are born, the motion which it raised up through the increase of things, it leads back to its own origin through their failing and setting.

There follows a third clause in which is treated the element of water, which in the order of things is placed third after fire, in procreation is associated as second. For as much as pertains to the disposition and the order of things, fire possesses the first and highest place; air the second, next to fire. Afterwards water claims the third place; in the last and lowest place the earth settles. Among these four, fire and water, by nature indeed most opposed, yet friendly by an even confederation 137D, are the origin of all things that are born. And therefore if we attend to place or to nature, we discern these two to be separated from one another. If we look to their effect, we find them both nearest to one another and friendly. Therefore concerning the element of water, which affords to things being born the other vital fostering along with fire, as though third after fire and air, or second along with fire, silence was not to be kept among the natures of mutable things. And for that reason he describes this element's circuit also, and its running out into the procreating of sensible things, saying: All the rivers run into the sea, and the sea doth not overflow. And at once he adds the reason why the sea does not overflow when all the rivers have been received into it: namely, because again they return to the place from whence the rivers come, to flow again. For the channels of the waters, through the whole 138Abody of the earth, draw moisture inwardly and from without after the manner of veins, so that the watering may be evenly poured out into every part. But that this infusion may be able to be continual and perpetual, therefore the course of the waters has been disposed in an orb, and in that perennial circling, so that what is poured in from above may never fail; as much as flows downward in the one part, so much in the other part is called back to its rising through hidden passages. So also the food of the body is carried by a certain circuit, and first descending from the palate into the belly, and then passing over into the privy, and in that very passage of it, as by a certain instilling of nature, nourishment is supplied to what is failing; and when this has been evaporated and emptied out, it is necessary again that recourse be had to the help of eating for the repairing of the weakening limbs. As it were therefore a circle 138Bof ever-renewed need, running back into its own origin, is drawn; because, while without ceasing what has been taken passes away, it is always necessary that it be taken again, so that it may be able to furnish substance for the supplying of the defect. Such nourishment therefore as the substance of food supplies by assiduous repetition to the body it feeds, altogether such nourishment does the reflowing of the elements pour into the body of the earth for the procreating of its offspring and the quickening of its seeds. This fire, this water, this air cease not to do by continual approach and withdrawal without intermission, so that they may always replenish the things that befall and empty out the things that recede, so that, because the vigor of the past infusion cannot subsist, of necessity the watering for the repairing of fullness may be repeated anew. What confidence, therefore, of perpetual subsistence will the nourishments of things be able to afford, 138Cwhen in all things thus always without ceasing both the things that repair pass away, and the things repaired fail? For although a repeated infusion seems to afford some sort of consolation to this defect, yet it is a great misery always to receive for need, and never to be able to lack the need of receiving. Whence it is manifest that all transitory and falling things are vain, which continually grow empty of the solidity of their own state, either by passing away or by failing. A great spectacle therefore has here been prepared for holy minds, which know how to draw from visible things the knowledge of invisible ones. Which know how to say to their Creator: Thou hast made all things in wisdom, O Lord (Psal. CIII). Thou hast delighted me, O Lord, in thy making, and in the works of thy hands 138DI shall rejoice. How magnified are thy works, O Lord, exceeding deep are thy thoughts become (Psal. XCI).

For behold how all things transitory and subject to vanity are borne about in a circuit. And we know that a circle has no end. The things therefore which run in a circuit do indeed run, but they never arrive at an end. What rest, then, can be hoped for, where there can be no standing still? For where there is perpetual running, there is no standing. But where the way is a circuit, there is no place where the course could surely have an end. The things therefore which run in a circuit always run and never come to a standing. They always pass away, and never subsist. They are always being ended, and cannot find an end. When they have gone by, they are yet to come; when they have come upon us, 139Athey do not subsist. This is the way of all mutable things, and the way of all who love mutable things and who follow mutable things. For of the wicked also it is said: The wicked walk in a circuit (Psal. XI). And again: The head of their circuit (Psal. CXXXIX), and make them as a wheel, O Lord (Psal. LXXXII). The head too of all the wicked bears witness of himself, saying: I have gone round about the earth, and walked through it (Job I). And of him the Apostle says: He goeth about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour (I Petr. V). You see therefore how the perverse always love the circuit, and do not withdraw from the circuit. Therefore the things which are perversely loved by the perverse, these themselves also all run in a circuit, for a testimony to them that they too follow a circuit. On the contrary the lover of eternal things says: My foot hath stood in the straight way 139B(Psal. XXVII). And again: Direct me in the path of thy commandments, for the same have I desired (Psal. CXVIII). And again: The path of the just is straight (Isai. XXVI). And elsewhere once more: They shall go, he says, straight, the things sent forth; and the Lord our God shall lead them to a sure place (Sap. V). O straight way, O circuit, whither dost thou lead. And thou, whither dost thou lead? Thou leadest, and leadest through. But thou leadest, and leadest astray; for those whom thou leadest, thou destroyest, thou dost not lead through. O circuit, how dost thou enwrap, how dost thou embrace thy followers? To those who run through thee thou grantest neither a going out from thee, nor an arrival within thee. Therefore all things transitory and falling are rolled through circuits while they pass away, so that we may not seek in them the good of eternity — things which we always behold both so to arrive that they pass away, and so to pass away that they do not subsist. Let us see 139Ctherefore yet further these circuits of vanity. For the wisdom of God, as has already been said, has wonderfully provided this: that the motion of all things should be driven round in a circle, so that bodily nature — which by flowing away might at some time have felt failure — always by running back into its own origin, while without interruption it receives what it has poured out, might pour out without failure what it receives, and that there might be a failing without failure; nor might that ever be wanting which is able to fail, so that it may always be failing. Whence in one and the same thing, both that which it is, is wretched, and that which has been made is wonderful, because in the same work both the matter is found frail, and the craftsman's design is to be admired. And corruptible nature indeed persuades to contempt of the world, but the mind sinks down in wonder at the contemplation of the design. 139DTo the beholding therefore of this design, after the course of mutable things has been unfolded, our Ecclesiastes turns himself, that in it he may exercise the mind's gaze through contemplation; because knowledge is not able sufficiently to comprehend it, he is eager to venerate it with worthy wonder. For, since he has unfolded the mutability of all things in three kinds of things — fire, air and water — according to the motion that moves, he shows thereafter how inexplicable that same mutability is according to the motion which is moved, through each several thing that rises and sets in the universe.

All things are hard: man cannot explain them by speech: the eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. When any thing whatever is discerned on its surface, not yet is either its hidden cause or 140Aits nature penetrated. For that which is, is seen; but of what sort that is which is seen, or what quality it keeps in the hidden place (whither bodily sense cannot come); why also it is so as it is seen, or whence it is so, or to what end it is — what man (I will not say in all things, but not even in any one thing whatever) is able to comprehend to the full? In how great darkness therefore is man enwrapped; by how great a blindness of ignorance is he hemmed in, whose sense can scarcely reach even so much as the surface of a few things? And even if he should discern all things that are according to their outward appearance, he would still not penetrate the hidden power of things and their invisible nature. Therefore the totality of things is in both ways incomprehensible to man: namely, both according to outward appearance, and according to inward 140Bquality. But some individual things come outwardly in part by their appearance to the sense, others are hidden altogether — either because they are remote in place, or because, though present in place, they exceed by their own subtlety the slowness of human sense. Scarcely therefore does human sense suffice to attain some few things among things; but of the whole it comprehends nothing perfectly as it is. Therefore all things are hard: hard according to the totality, namely, in that they cannot be attained, and hard according to each several thing, because they can be fully comprehended by no sense nor understanding. And if they cannot be perfectly searched out by reason, much less can they be explained by speech. For this very thing is more unspeakable than all things in things: that in so great a confusion of mutability nowhere is an evident and manifest 140Cdesign lacking to one who considers well; that even that which in things is not good is so well disposed, that in a certain manner the corruption of individual things is the beauty of the whole. Therefore human sense, sinking down in the consideration of these things, is sweetly refreshed out of its own failure; because in that which displeases according to corruption, in the most ordered beauty of the whole, even corruption itself is beautiful and pleases. Thus in a wondrous and unspeakable manner the Founder, in his creature, both punishes malice through the corruption of things and at once delights nature through beauty, so that man may recognize in his punishment what he has deserved through fault, and in his delight what he has lost. For how great an affluence of sweetness do we believe to be in the Creator of things, if 140Dwe find so wondrous a pleasantness in the beauty of creatures? Therefore, when he had spoken of the failure of human understanding in so manifold and perplexed and various a depth of things, he at once adds the delightfulness of nature in the beauty of those same things.

The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. Since all the bodily senses find in created things their own delights, and each of them as it were certain proper dainties prepared for it — sight, namely, appearance; hearing, the sweetness of melody; smell, odor; taste, savor; and touch, smoothness. All the rest indeed serve bodily necessity, or even pleasure. But these two senses, that is sight and hearing, draw their nourishment rather toward spiritual delightfulness. Whence their refreshment also has no draining off of dregs, 141Abecause together with the perceiving of sweetness they draw no mass of corruption. For which reason their refreshment does not arrive at a satiety of sweetness; because no difficulty running through delays their appetite from perceiving sweetness, nor does any ensuing trouble restrain it. This nourishment therefore, pure and unmixed, without all bodily bulk, passes wholly into the refreshment of the soul; because although it flows forth from bodily appearance and passes through the sense of the body, it cannot nevertheless be retained by the body, since it has nothing bodily, nor does it bring in anything corpulent. For this reason therefore sight and hearing, as being more excellent than the rest and having nothing of depressing weight, have obtained a loftier seat in the body, so that they may freely and without obstacle flow out to their delights, or 141Badmit into themselves without difficulty those things that flow in. There are, to be sure, two things which enter to the mind from the appearance of things through sight. And two likewise which enter in through hearing from the perceiving of voices. For through sight there comes from things to the mind's knowledge substance and form. From voices through hearing, signification and melody. And substance from things works the same in the mind through sight as signification from voices does through hearing. And likewise form from things does the same in the mind through sight as melody from voices does through hearing. For there are two things by which the whole nature of the rational soul is ordered, namely knowledge and affection, that is, wisdom and love. And if the soul perfectly obtains these two and lawfully orders them, it is blessed. But if either it falls short in obtaining them so far as nature requires, 141Cor perverts them, once obtained, against nature, then in that part, without doubt, in which it suffers either the failure or the confusion of them, it must needs be made wretched. The whole substance therefore of the rational soul is governed by these two, that is by knowledge and affection, so that through wisdom it may find truth, and through love may embrace virtue. Therefore, that outward things also might serve the rational soul for the sake of blessedness, these two instruments of the senses were placed in the human body, so that through them the notions of visible things might enter in to the soul, and might produce in it wisdom or virtue, if it were not there at all, or increase it, if it were there in less measure. Therefore the essence of things entering in to the soul through sight, and the signification of voices through hearing, beget knowledge. But the form of things entering in through sight, 141Dand the melody of voices through hearing, kindle the mind to delightfulness. For as often as outwardly either sight is affected by the appearance of things, or hearing is soothed by the sweetness of voices, the mind awakes within with wondrous affections, answering to that by which it feels itself touched outwardly. And it comes to pass sometimes that, through the sweetness which it draws by bodily sense, it returns to the remembrance of invisible goods and, admonished in a certain manner from the likeness, begins to long with unspeakable desire for that whose shadow and image, as it were, it feels itself to have perceived in bodily affection.

Let Ecclesiastes therefore say: The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. Because through these senses the beauty of visible things, while it affects the mind with delight in 142Athe contemplation of itself, kindles in it an unspeakable longing for invisible goods. Which longing, namely, thirsting after an ineffable sweetness, can rather be provoked than filled out by the bodily sight or hearing by which it is aroused, however great a delightfulness they may bring; and by human speech, however profuse or eloquent it may have been — though it is scarcely told even thinly — it is never perfectly explained. For from the appearance of visible things the rational mind conceives only, as it were, certain seeds of joys; but as desire soon grows out into immensity, it travails and does not contain itself in so great a delight. Let no one therefore think the sight of visible things harmful to chaste minds; because, if to see the works of God were altogether harmful, the use of seeing would by no means 142Bhave been created by him. For the work of God is as it were his word, through which he speaks to us, and the eyes themselves are as it were instruments by which the words of God are perceived through contemplation. Just as therefore the ear is an instrument for perceiving the word of man, so the eye is an instrument for perceiving the word of man, so the eye is an instrument for perceiving the word of the Creator. Therefore fittingly in the human body both the eyes are set in front and the ears placed at the side, as though by this it were signified to us that our intention ought to be directed secondarily to our neighbor, principally to God. Rightly therefore, that it might be shown how from the consideration of visible things the desire of eternal things is born in the mind, the eyes and ears alone are mentioned. Because by these alone, well nigh, does the way of wisdom 142Cand of virtue lie open to the mind, since, while beyond the other senses they perceive the beauty of visible things unmixed, they alone more purely kindle within the love of invisible goods. All things are hard: man cannot explain them by speech.

The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. It is a marvel. The human heart does not suffice for the whole world, and the whole world does not suffice for the human heart. Why does the human heart not suffice for the whole world? Because all things are hard, and man cannot explain them by speech. Why does the whole world not suffice for the human heart? Because the eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. Therefore knowledge sinks down, affection transcends. Knowledge stretches itself as far as it can, and cannot take in the whole; but love drinks up the whole, 142Dand still cannot be satisfied. Why is this? Because charity rises high above knowledge, nor does the human heart say: It is enough — until it has come to him, and has found him by whom it was made that it might be, and for whom it was made that in him it might be blessed. Every delightfulness, every pleasantness, every beauty of created things can affect the human heart; satisfy it they cannot, save that sweetness alone for which it was made. For the appearances of visible things are only, as it were, certain veins through which the invisible beauty, manifesting itself, flows out even to us. And therefore, when these naturally provoke our sense and affection toward themselves, they do not indeed fill up desire, but goad it to seek out the appearance of the Founder and to long for his beauty. 143ATherefore all these things which are seen outwardly were made for provoking human affection, not for satisfying it, so that, aroused by them, it may rise up and, increased, may transcend them. Wherefore the eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. For that which we behold made beautiful does indeed delight, but it does not suffice, unless we find him who made it.

Or what he says can be understood thus: The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. For because he had set down before that all things are hard, and that man cannot explain them by speech — lest perhaps it should be thought that they could be comprehended even by knowledge, he added: The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. As if he were to say: It is no marvel if man cannot explain by speech the difficulty 143Bcultatem of things, who cannot even by sense take in or search out their depth. For whether he seek through himself the things to be found, or hear from another the things already found, everything that he can take in is beneath the satiety of fullness. For if he begins to contemplate through himself, the eye is not sated with seeing. If he seeks to be taught by another, the ear is not filled with hearing. For the narrownesses of the bodily instruments, if they pour themselves outward, do not suffice for the depth or the immensity of things to be unfolded. But if they pour themselves inward, they cannot fill the capacity of the human heart. For because the heart of man, blinded by the darkness of sin, has not an eye within by which it may fully see the light of truth, nor an ear by which it may perceive the word of God sounding inwardly, it is compelled to open bodily eyes and ears for the watering of the dryness 143Cof its ignorance, that outwardly it may draw at least some drop of truth in the appearance of things, whereby its thirst, though it cannot be altogether quenched, may at least a little be tempered. For this is what the Lord reproaches to his people through the prophet, saying: My people have done two sins. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and have digged for themselves cisterns broken apart, that cannot hold waters (Jer. II). For we know that a cistern is dug for this reason, that water gathered from without may flow down into it, and be drawn from it again to pass over into the uses of men. But because this has no living vein, however great it may seem and overflowing with a gathering of waters, it can at some time be drained out 143Dand dried up; because, when that which is poured in from elsewhere has been taken away and consumed, nothing of its own is left over to it whence it might be repaired. But the fountain which has a living vein, even if it is small, yet cannot altogether fail, nor does it ever feel a failure of its own outpouring, since to it an increase from its own comes always without failure. The bodily eyes and ears therefore, although they are the chief instruments by which the way is opened for the disciplines to the mind, yet, because the notions of visible things do not come from within from the fountain of truth, they lead them down to the heart of man through the narrow conduits of their own capacity and as it were like waters gathered here and there into a cistern. And because in the very things which they perceive they are able neither to comprehend the totality nor to penetrate the innermost parts, rightly is it now said: The eye is not satisfied 144Awith seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. Because the human mind, whether by living or by hearing, even if it perceives something, however little, of the truth, is nevertheless driven far from the fullness thereof by the condition of its own infirmity. It is no marvel therefore if the dryness of human speech does not suffice to explain the difficulty of things, since human sense also sinks down in the consideration of it. And therefore all things are hard, and man cannot explain them by speech: the eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.

What is it that hath been? The very thing that is to be. What is it that hath been done? The very thing that is to be done. Nothing new under the sun; nor is any man able to say: Behold, this is new. For it hath already gone before in the ages which were before us. Perhaps someone may reckon that that error is 144Bhere confirmed by which the philosophers of the Gentiles, concerning the revolution of the ages and the return of all things into the selfsame, attempted with marvelous madness to establish the eternity of times. For they said that the series of mutable things had run from eternity in the same order in which it is now beheld, and would run without end, by the same law, the world in its totality having neither beginning nor end, through certain ages succeeding one another. And that the great age consists of fifteen thousand years (which they call the year); and that when it is completed, all the heavenly bodies being called back to their own place whence each several one had gone forth from the beginning of the age, and again beginning their motion into the opening of another age by a like plan and manner, and likewise moving the nature subject to them by a like plan — that again absolutely the same 144Cthings all rise up anew, in the order in which they had gone before in the preceding ages, in the same order nonetheless, with the same essence, the same form, in altogether the same places and times, and accomplish their own course and a fate like to the former and the very same; that they suffer also the same law and undergo the same fortune, so that it befalls that the same men are born, that the same men likewise beget the same sons, live by the same fortune, die by the same lot: the same outcome of things, absolutely the same quality, and the same state and course of all things which the past times of the earlier age had held. And that such a revolution and repetition of all things into the selfsame always has been and always shall be without end, so that, just as by 144Dthe return of one star through each several year all these things are then renewed to their former state, so by the return of all the stars and of the whole of nature to their rising, through each several age and the great years, all things are restored to their first condition. But how great this error is, manifest reason will easily prove. For that times cannot be eternal is most evidently proved by this: that all time had a beginning; and it stands without contradiction that everything which had a beginning at some time was not. Further, all past time was at some time present. But all time which was at some time present, before it was present, was not yet. Otherwise, if it was always present, it was no longer time, but eternity. If therefore all past time at some time was 145Anot, there was [a time] when there was no time. And so times could not be eternal; but before times there was an eternity without time, which times neither increased when they began, nor will they consume when they shall be ended. It is clear therefore that the assertion of those is false who have proclaimed the eternity of the ages, and have testified that the beginning of mutability was without beginning. But lest perhaps in this place an error of this kind should seem to be confirmed, when it is said: Nothing new under the sun; nor is any man able to say: Behold, this is new. For it hath already gone before in the ages which were before us — in what understanding this is to be taken he shows at once in the words that follow, saying:

There is no remembrance of former things; nor indeed shall there be any recollection of those which are to be hereafter, with them that 145Bshall be in the last time. For if the former things and the last were absolutely the same as the present, he would by no means call men now present other than the former and other than those to come in the last time; nor would he say, with them that are to be after us in the last time, but he would say, with us who are to be in the last time. Unless perhaps someone should say that the first and the last are to be referred to the beginning and the end of the same age; otherwise those are neither first nor last who have been without beginning and are to be without end. But that the first and the last should be referred to the beginning and the end of the same age is forbidden by what he says: It hath already gone before in the ages which were before us. Because, while he speaks of some ages of those going before and others of those coming after, he shows that he has by no means meant the first and the last of the same age. 145CTherefore, since that sentiment shrinks back not only from Catholic truth but from reason as well, let us refer this saying to the likeness of things, which have been so established in their kinds from the beginning that each several one extends its offspring according to the likeness and the first form of its own origin, and there is nothing which exceeds the limit of the first disposition in its own kind. Thus in the very elements of the world, thus in those things which have been or are procreated out of them, nature keeps in all things the first disposition, so that nothing can be found under the sun other than the first, that is, diverse or unlike. As, for example, from the beginning heaven above, and earth below. From the beginning the lights in heaven — sun, moon and stars; birds in the air, fishes in the water, beasts on the earth. From the beginning flight for birds, swimming 145Dfor fishes, walking for men, and for certain beasts crawling, and dragging for serpents. And all these things, as they were, so they are, so they remain. And if at any time perchance, by some miracle happening beside the accustomed course of nature, they become other than they always are, yet they do not become so in the whole, nor do they always become so, so that that first establishment, although it may sometimes seem to be interrupted, may never nevertheless seem to be dissolved. Therefore the wisdom of God rules this confusion also. And what is confused to us is not so to him. And therefore nothing is new under the sun; because that which passes away in time has been ordained from eternity by him who is above the sun. And therefore each several thing, because they cannot stand in themselves by immutability, yet keep their standing in their own kind 146Athrough likeness, so that although individual things cannot always be what they are, yet the whole are never found to be other than the individuals. Therefore nothing new under the sun. How much more above the sun? For therefore also nothing is new under the sun, because that which is above the sun is eternal. Under the sun and moon there is nothing new; nor yet is there anything eternal. For nothing under the sun is eternal, because everything that is under the sun passes away in itself; yet it is not new, because it subsists in the likeness of its own kind. Therefore under the sun nothing is new, and nothing eternal. For because it hath gone before in the ages which were before us, therefore it is not new; and because there is no remembrance of things past, therefore it is not eternal. And therefore, because everything that comes passes away and does not subsist, nor does anything remain 146Bunder the sun, the eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing; because, while it enters it slips away, and everything flees while it is thought to be held; and the sentiment is fulfilled: Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. What then, since under the sun the eye is not sated with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing? Let it go above the sun, where not only is there nothing new, but nothing transitory either; where there is both the remembrance of former things and the presence of things to come — nay rather, where all things past and to come are present; because nothing there is either past or future, where everything that is, is present, and everything that is, is there. There therefore both the eye can be sated with seeing and the ear filled with hearing: where a consummate and full perfection is perceived, and, the fullness having been perceived, eternity is not emptied out. So therefore this whole sentiment, by which it is said that under the sun there is neither anything new 146Cnor anything eternal, seems to look to this: that man may recognize what he ought either to flee or to follow. For in this, that nothing under the sun is new, the eternal disposition is shown. But in this, that nothing under the sun can be abiding, it is demonstrated that in those things which are under the sun eternity is indeed signified, yet is not. In those very things therefore which are under the sun we recognize at once both: in that nothing is eternal, that what they are must be fled; and in that nothing is new, that what they are not must be followed. Wherefore let him run back to the highest sentiment, that, because in those things which are under the sun the eyes cannot be sated nor the ears filled by knowledge — since they do not comprehend the whole that is — nor can they be by desire, because, even if they should comprehend, the whole that is does not suffice, 146Dnor does that which is present remain as long as they are able. They know that everything which is under the sun is vanity, and that man can have nothing more out of all his labor wherewith he labors under the sun.

Let him say then: All things are hard, so as to be comprehended by human sense — things which can neither be numbered in their multitude, nor comprehended in their quantity, nor searched out in their depth. And therefore it is no marvel if speech fails where understanding sinks down; and on this account man cannot explain them by speech, so as to render an account of each several thing, because he does not know all things: For the eye is not sated with seeing, when it considers by itself; nor is the ear filled with hearing, when it is taught by another — so that either the intention going out to the search of things might comprehend the whole, as much as is without, 147Aor knowledge entering in might fill up the whole, as much as is within. Therefore the eye and the ear suffice neither for the whole world, so as to take in the whole, nor for the whole mind, so as to fill the whole. And yet through those things which are without they are admonished to go forward thither where life is, where they may find the whole and take in the whole, because all things in him were life, and the life was the light of men (Joan. I). Thither therefore let them go forward, where at once they may find the whole and take in the whole and possess the whole, where in the eternal disposition those things have already been made which are to be in time. For what is it that hath been? For the very same, and not another, is to be in time than that which was before times, in the eternal disposition of God. Nor is any other mutable thing unfolded thereafter in the order of things than that which was ever fixed and abiding 147Bin that ratified and unvarying divine disposition. And that it may manifestly appear that the subsequent effect of things accords with providence, therefore also in the very series of things the future does not disaccord with the past. For what is it that hath been done? The very thing that is to be done. Therefore what has always been in providence is at some time to be in fact; and what has already been done in fact is still to be done through likeness. But it seems to me that this ought not to be passed over, that he does not say. What is it that is to be, that he might then subjoin. The very thing that hath been — since past things are more certain than things to come, and because, even if they are not, yet they were at some time and were seen. But things to come never were.

And therefore that which is less certain would seem 147Crather to be put in the question; but in the answer, that which is agreed to be more known. But it is to be noted that the effect of things, according to cause, is later than providence; in our knowledge, earlier. Because until we behold a thing in its own act, we are utterly ignorant of what has been disposed concerning it in the eternal providence. And therefore rightly, when he asked, saying: What is it that hath been? (because providence in itself is hidden) he at once sends his hearers to the act of things for the understanding of it, saying: The very thing that is to be; because we cannot know what goes before in foreknowledge, until we have seen what follows after in the effect of things. But in the things themselves also we shall gather the quality of past things which we have not seen from the comparison of things to come 147Dwhen they shall have come upon us. Let him say then: What is it that hath been? The very thing that is to be. Because, as has been said, that which goes before in providence — this same and not another follows after in the effect of things. And thereafter: What is it that hath been done? The very thing that is to be done. Because the same nature of things in each several kind has exhibited in act, in things past, the same likeness which it will bring forth they shall have come upon in things to come. And therefore there is nothing new in the kinds of things under the sun whose likeness has not gone before. Nor is any man able to say: This is new — as far as concerns the likeness of its own kind. For it hath already gone before in the ages which were before us, in its own kind, of which it is. And yet all things flow, nor does anything remain under the sun. And the things which are fixed in the disposition of him who orders 148Athem, passing away in themselves, withdraw at once both from our presence and from our memory. For first they are withdrawn from our presence, so that they do not subsist by appearance; then they are also blotted out from memory by forgetfulness, so that they do not subsist even by recollection. And lest perchance the passing of things past should not suffice to draw the hard hearts of men to contempt of visible things, if, when those had been taken away, they who are present could have had confidence about their own standing. Therefore, after he said in recalling their passing: There is no remembrance of former things, he at once demonstrates the destruction of these also, saying: But neither of those who are to be after us. For if they are to be after us, they are surely others: it is plain that we who now subsist, when those shall have come who are to be after us, and we too taken away by the same 148Blot, shall then by no means come even into the recollection of the living. What then does it profit us that we have succeeded into this life those who were taken away by death, since we too, going down when our own time shall have come, shall leave other successors behind us. If therefore we wish to know of what sort we shall be with those who are to be after us, let us consider of what sort they now are with us who, long since taken away from this life, have gone before us. And that every hope of present things may be taken away from wicked minds, those also who are to be after us are said not to be about to remain, nor to be about to come into recollection with their own posterity — lest even this should come as a consolation to depraved minds, if he who cannot stand in himself might at least subsist in his heir or successor. Therefore 148Che shows one and the same destruction of all things past, present, and to come. There is no remembrance of former things; nor shall there be any recollection of those who are to be after us, with them that shall be in the last time — that he may subject all things to vanity, and turn the human mind from the love of those things which are seen under the sun to the desire of eternal things.

But if anyone should not be willing to be content with the simple exposition, he has something else which he may understand in these words that have been expounded above, fittingly enough and perhaps more manifestly. For because he had said that neither is the eye sated with seeing nor the ear filled with hearing, he immediately adds the cause why neither can sight fill the eye nor hearing the ear: namely, because 148Dthe appearances of transitory things, coming indeed through the sense, arouse longing, but, swiftly fleeing away, cheat desire by their passing. For concerning this passing he subjoins the sentiment, saying: What is it that hath been? It already is not: for it has passed away, and now is not. The very same shall that also be which is to be: for it too, when it shall have come, will pass through, and when it shall have passed through, it will be no more. What is it that hath been done? That too has already passed through, and is not itself. Therefore the same shall that also be which is to be done; because it too, when it shall have been done, will pass through, and will be no more. But it can be asked why he mentioned past things only and things to come, when he rather intends to persuade to contempt of present things? But this very thing pertains to a great contempt of those things which 149Aare seen: that he willed to mention in their number only those things which alone the sense of the flesh comprehends as present, as though he saw that those things alone are not, which alone seem to be — so that he cannot even say what it is that is. That which is, while it is, is well nigh nothing: for the moments of present things flee away with so hasty a course and so swift a slipping by that they cannot even wait for the words of those who speak about them. For even if it can sometimes be rightly said by the questioner, according to something, "it is," yet it is always more truly said by the answerer, "it was, and is not." Thus the question itself seeks an answer which as yet is not. But the answer, when it comes, does not find the question, which now is not. In a true consideration therefore he saw that this alone, as it were, is not, which alone seems to be. For since it at once both 149Bbegins to be out of that which is not yet, and ceases to be into that which now is not, that which is, is well nigh nothing. And therefore by no means ask what it is that is; because that very thing of the questioner, to the answerer however near at hand, has already been, and is not. Rightly therefore is it said: What is it that hath been? The very thing that is to be. What is it that hath been done? The very thing that is to be done. As if he were to say: From the consideration of things past weigh what you ought to expect concerning the things that come after; for both are the same. Both that which hath been, and that which is to be. That which hath been done, and that which is to be done. It is the same, not by essence, but by a like nature. For that which hath been (as far as concerns things) and that which hath been done (as far as concerns actions), both have passed through. And there is not now even that which hath been 149Cdone. Likewise that which is to be among things, and that which is to be done among actions, the whole will pass through, and there will be nothing perpetual under the sun. Whence is this? Because the condition of things past, and of those which are to be, is the same, and the nature alike. For nothing is new under the sun, nor is any man able to say: Behold, this is new. For it hath already gone before in the ages which were before us. And because the condition is alike, therefore as things past, so also things to come. And of what sort, thinkest thou, are those things past themselves? Hear of what sort: There is, he says, no remembrance of former things. Therefore not only has their presence been taken away by destruction, but their memory too has been blotted out by forgetfulness. A great ruin. Of such sort are also those things which are to be. For neither of those who are to be 149Dafter us shall there be any recollection with them that shall be in the last time. And the sentiment is true: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all is vanity.

I Ecclesiastes was king of Israel in Jerusalem: and I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things that are done under the sun. To search out the words of the wise and their riddles, and to draw forth to the taste that sweetness of wisdom which is hidden within, and to bring its beauty forth into the light — who is able? A scribe learned in the kingdom of heaven, who bringeth forth out of his treasure new things and old (Matth. XIII), if he should come to us — behold, he who God gave wisdom 150Aand understanding to lay it open and to make it manifest, that men may know that in it is life. But what are we? Darkness before light, that we should think to comprehend what God has hidden from the eyes of men, to reveal the secret of his wisdom to his friends. What do we do? Therefore we shall not meditate on his commandments, nor shall we search out her paths, and our heart will be able to rest until it find her. Only let us pursue her with these very words; and if perhaps the finding be deferred, let the search for her meanwhile feed us above all things; if we cannot [teach] her as found, yet let us teach her as sought. Behold, our Ecclesiastes, disputing thus far concerning the vanity of mutable things, has embraced in a brief discourse so many things that in those words of his this appears wonderful to us: in what manner 150Bthe whole, and the whole concerning the whole, has been so said that for brevity indeed nothing less, but for evidence nothing more, seems needful to be said. But wisdom did this, which is whole in the whole and whole in each several thing. Nor is she, whole in individual things, contracted; nor is she, whole in the whole, expanded; but she is as great in individual things as in the whole, and in the whole such as she is whole in individual things, because neither can unity be less than itself, nor immensity greater. That same wisdom therefore has expressed in this brief body of discourse the whole image of the universe, that we, being small, may see the great in the small, since in itself we cannot [see] the whole. And we have seen there the whole world, and have recognized that truly there is nothing of all things that abides, but that all things which are under the sun flow and pass through, and that the sentiment stands true, that all is vanity. Now therefore, 150Cafter he has demonstrated to us of what sort those things are which were made along with us, he passes on to teach us what we ought to think or to expect concerning those things which are done by us. Because if that also which God made is subject to vanity, it cannot be doubted that what man, who is vanity, makes is altogether vain, and much more vain. This is what he now enters upon to demonstrate: namely, that all the works of men which are done under the sun are vain, and that man has nothing more out of all his labor wherewith he labors under the sun. But that he may win credence for his assertion, he sets himself forth as an example of all the things he is about to say, asserting that he has learned by trial all that he speaks and has proved it true. And therefore he sets forth his own person as of such a kind 150Dthat it may not seem incredible that he could have had trial of all these things. Therefore he demonstrates his power and dignity: king of Israel in Jerusalem. He shows his wisdom also: And I went before in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem. He enumerates his riches: houses, vineyards, gardens, orchards, fishponds, menservants, maidservants, herds, flocks, gold, silver. Lastly, lest anything should be thought to have been lacking, he adds luxury also and pleasure: singing men, singing women, and the delights of the sons of men; and all things, he says, which my eyes desired I denied them not, nor did I keep back my heart from enjoying every pleasure of its own in those things which I had prepared. And he testifies that in all these he ran through every trial of things, and found nothing beyond vanity and 151Aaffliction of spirit and superfluous care in all things that are done under the sun. But what those things are which are done under the sun has already been said above. But that the discourse may pass over more suitably to those things which are to be said, we shall now briefly and summarily repeat what has been said.

For we have shown that by the sun time is signified, for this reason: because chiefly by the sun is all the mutability and vicissitude of times distinguished, so that the same is understood by that which is said, under the sun, as if it had been said, under time. Again, that it might appear more evidently what those things were which, done under time, the author reproves of vanity, we distinguished that some things were made with time, others made in time. Likewise of those which were made in time, 151Bsome were made in time, not under time; others in time and under time. And those indeed which were made under time are more subject to time and liable to mutability, because they began in time and will likewise be ended in time; and therefore, lest they should extend themselves in any degree to eternity, they are in a certain manner shut in by time, since their time both went before their beginning and follows after their end. Yet, lest vanity should altogether rule in these, and truth should not find under the sun where to lay its head (Matth. VIII), we have excepted certain of those things which are done under time; and if we do not altogether take vanity away from them, yet we forbid them to serve vanity. For of those things which are done under time, some are done for time, others are done for eternity. And those which are done under time for time 151Care vain in act and in fruit. But those which are done under time for eternity are in a certain manner vain in act, but in fruit are not; because, even if they pass away in the work, yet they remain in the recompense. Wherefore such things, even if they have not fully escaped vanity, yet serve not vanity but truth; nor is that which they are altogether vain in them, because that for which they are is not vanity. But those which are done under time and for time are altogether subject to vanity; because both that which is in them is vain, and that which is from them is likewise vanity. And these are the things of which we treat at present. In which, under the sun, nothing beyond vanity and affliction of spirit — either when they are being done, or when they have been done — is found by those who love transitory things.

• 151D

And yet in these things vanity itself rises up to increase as though by certain steps, and corruption, growing out as it were from a little thing, increased by degrees, always proceeds to the worse. For in them is found the first origin of vanity, curiosity; then cupidity; lastly pleasure. Among which the first indeed pertains to the concupiscence of the eyes, the second to the ambition of the world, the third to the concupiscence of the flesh. Through which vanities, namely, the human mind, flowing down from the highest truth, is cast headlong so far that, pressed at last by carnal desires and wholly bound fast 152Aby the enticements of pleasures, it not only cannot of itself remember its own origin, but cannot even when admonished will either that what evilly is should not be, or that what evilly is not should be. For what is, is evilly; and what ought to be, evilly is not. And that it wills either that what is should not be, or that what is not should be: this is worse than both. This therefore our Ecclesiastes here begins to demonstrate by the example of himself: namely, in what manner the human mind falls down through these steps of errors from the highest truth into vanity, and, its own vice driving it on, always goes to the worse. For to cleave to truth, and to love truth itself for its own sake, ought to have been its true good. When therefore it forsakes truth and turns away from her the mind's attention, then first, repulsed from her, it suffers the punishment of its own error: that 152Bthe very truth which it would not love in itself and for its own sake it now begins to seek for the sake of vanity; and because it has ceased to contemplate that one thing in which it might see all things, now, aiming not so much at truth as at novelty, it longs to know many things. For because it has lost that inward contemplation in which is the true refreshment of the mind, it seeks hungrily, as it were the food of understanding, in the knowledge of those things which are without. But because in all those things which appear outwardly a perfect knowledge of the truth can by no means be found, the wretch, languishing in the misery of his own failing, begins, as with a certain loathing, to run about always from some things to the desiring of others; and, casting away the former as empty and barren, he hopes that he can obtain the effect of his desire in those that remain — so foolish and blind that, though 152Che sees himself always frustrated in them, and never reaching the end of his desire, yet these things by no means ever cease to be courted as vain and unfruitful. But a just punishment nevertheless follows upon this so shameless desire and foolish curiosity, by which it stretches itself out superfluously in the knowledge of visible things, and either neglects the knowledge of its Creator — in which alone true blessedness consists — when it is had, or dissembles to seek it when it is not had; since in the very place where it perversely seeks delight, it finds nothing beyond grief and affliction of spirit. For in so great an occupation, finding a difficulty greater than its strength, it is oppressed as by a certain weight of its own anxiety; because, while desire drives it to seek wisdom in things of this kind, where it cannot be found, it is at once distracted by their multitude 152Dand beaten back by their depth. This then is the labor and affliction of spirit by which the foolish and shameless mind is deservedly worn away for its own rashness, while, not only forgetting its Creator but also neglecting itself, it is occupied in searching out the lowest things, which do not pertain to salvation. And yet sometimes knowledge, sought with such vanity and found with so great labor in however small a part, puffs up the mind through pride, and casts it headlong from curiosity to elation, as from vanity to vanity. Which elation, namely, bringing in the ambition of the world, while it makes the mind greedy of praise, kindles it to the love of pomp and the glory of riches, so that, while it slips down from the glory of the inward good to the appetite of the outward, it is always 153Acast headlong into a worse vanity. But neither can corruption, once begun, stand still here. For as the goods of the flesh, while they are not yet had, flatter the greedy man by their appearance, so that they must needs be sought, so afterward, while they are possessed, they entice to pleasure one nervelessly broken and softened by use. And so the wretched mind, after the love of vain praise, after the ardor of a more vain cupidity, is lastly inflamed to the appetite of pleasure, so that now it begins even to sow vanity in the flesh, that afterward, made flesh out of flesh, it may reap the fruit of vanity in corruption. For this is the fruit of vanity: that the wretched mind, overwhelmed at last by carnal desires and lulled asleep by the pleasure of carnal desires, sleeps so deep that now it seeks wisdom not only not in truth, but not even in appearance. 153BAnd it pours itself out wholly to the trying of the evilly sweet pleasure of the flesh the more greedily, by how much the more, wearied within and repulsed from the intention of its own search, it despairs of finding the truth. And because, stretching above itself through search, it considers that it has sunk down under labor and excessive difficulty, it lets itself loose with all greediness to another consolation, and one that can be had without labor; but there too, finding vanity, it is not suffered to rest, because in the pleasure of the flesh it can neither keep hold of the fleeing delight when it is present, nor call it back when it has passed away. And thus, wearied and scattered on every side, it is shaken by the storm of its own vanity, so that through that very thing wherein it went away evilly delighted, it may at last, wholesomely afflicted, be compelled to return. And often there is a certain grievous struggle in the mind, so that, while 153Cit considers itself at once delighted and afflicted in the lowest things, with great desire, for love of liberty, it longs to forsake even the things it has loved, if it could be done. This struggle therefore and tumult of the human mind through the various pursuits of mortal life Ecclesiastes will express in the words that follow, taking upon himself in a sentiment the case of all; and he will show in what manner it falls down from the vanity of curiosity to the vanity of pomp and of ambition, and thereafter to the vanity of pleasure, as is demonstrated in the sequence and order of the book. But since we have completed those things which were to be said in the preface, let us now return to expounding the words of his narrative.

• 153D

I Ecclesiastes was king of Israel in Jerusalem. First this seems to me by no means to be passed over: that some judge that Solomon wrote this book in penitence, and that he therefore so studiously reproves in it the vanity of worldly things, and most of all of carnal pleasure, because he himself had learned all things by experience, corrupted by the luxury of delights and seduced by the blandishments of women. And that therefore he was unwilling to say: I am king of Israel in Jerusalem; because, the purple of the kingdom laid aside, he had already come down from his throne, and, despising the power which he had ill held, he was bewailing his guilt in the habit of penitence — and therefore he says: he was king in Jerusalem. And would that it stood established that this is true, and that we had as certain a testimony concerning 154Ahis penitence as we have an undoubted one concerning his fault! But now, since we cannot affirm doubtful things for certain, let us pursue those which are not doubtful. I Ecclesiastes. He sets himself forth, as we have said, as an example of all the things he is about to say, so that hearers may the sooner give credence to his words, in that they understand that he learned what he taught not by hearing only, but by experiencing. As if he were to say. I who teach you have made trial of all the things I say. For who could better know what vanity there is in the summit of earthly power? For I was king of Israel in Jerusalem. A loftiness great enough: to reign over so great a people and in so noble and famous a city, and to see oneself upon the throne of the kingdom, lord over all in power and set above all in honor. And to what end these things? 154BI was, he says. As though he should say: Now I am not; because even if I am, I now recognize that that very thing which I am is nothing. And how he came to this, that he should recognize himself to be nothing, he then pursues, saying:

I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out prudently concerning all things which are done under the sun. As though he should say: I, outwardly swollen with power and inwardly puffed up with knowledge, attempted to seek things higher than myself. But where by vainly presuming I swelled above myself, there by failing I truly recognized the direction of myself. I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. A great purpose, if it could have come to effect; but how should the human mind suffice for so great things? Great pride therefore it is that mortal man should presume concerning so many things, and 154Cagain great curiosity to desire so many. I proposed, he says. See how all things sound of elation. He does not say, I thought; but, I proposed — whereas the temptation would at least have been venial and human if a swollen thought had touched the soul suddenly and in passing, as it is sometimes wont to do, and yet had not been received or approved by consent. But now the mind, not only lifted up but also blind, fell down into so great a depth of error that it not only thought to do that which was disordered, but even presumed that it could fulfil that which had been impossible. I proposed in my mind. A huge attempt. And what things? To seek, and to search out. To seek things unknown, and to search out things deep. How? Wisely. O foolish heart! 154DTherefore thou dost not seek wisdom, but professest only to seek by wisdom: for this thou hast said: I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. If therefore thou seekest wisely, thou wilt seek by wisdom. And thou sayest: Just so; I will seek by wisdom. For I should seek ill, if I did not seek by wisdom. For if I should seek without wisdom, even if I sought wisdom, I should seek foolishly. But to seek wisdom foolishly — that very thing would now be not to be wise, but to be without sense. Wherefore I will seek wisely, and I will seek by wisdom, and I will seek wisdom. Tell me then the wisdom by which thou wilt seek: where wilt thou seek? and by what wisdom wilt thou seek wisdom. By which dost thou seek? Already, he says, I have the wisdom 155Aby which I may seek; and therefore by the wisdom which I have I will seek; and the wisdom by which I may seek, I will not seek. What wilt thou seek? Concerning all things which are done under the sun. What is "concerning all things"? Why didst thou not say, all things which are done under the sun? Because, he says, I proposed something greater, and much greater. For the things which are done under the sun are all visible, and therefore, though it be a great thing, yet it is not the highest, to seek and to search out those things which can be comprehended by the eye. Therefore I will not seek those things, but I will seek concerning those things. To seek and to search out concerning all things which are done under the sun. Not those things which are seen, but, concerning those which are seen, those things which are not seen. Not those things which are done under the sun, which are seen; but, concerning those which are done under the sun, the reasons and causes of those things which are not seen. These things therefore I proposed: 155Bto seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. Surely thou hast great wisdom. Who gave thee so great wisdom? Art thou a man, and wilt thou seek wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun? Whence hast thou such wisdom: God, thou sayest, gave it. Let us now see. For thou shalt not pass by unexamined. For we wish first to know whether thou canst render an account of thyself, thou who hast come with so great a purpose that thou thinkest to search out the reason of all the things which are done under the sun. Say then: in that wisdom by which thou proposest to search out the reason of all things, hast thou been able as yet to recognize at least thine own possibility: I, he says, unless I had hoped that I could bring the thing itself to effect — what I should believe altogether impossible, even if I thought to do it, yet I should by no means 155Cpropose that I would do it. O foolish heart! This is what I said: because thou hast not known thyself, therefore thou hast presumed to desire what was above thee — in the one blind, in the other swollen, in both foolish. Thou therefore wilt search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. Search now, bestir thyself, give effort. Seek, and thou shalt find. What wilt thou find? Thou wilt find wisdom. What wisdom? That thou mayest know thine own folly. For thou shalt seek and shalt not find what thou seekest; thou shalt labor and shalt not profit, and vexation alone shall give understanding to the hearing.

For God hath given this worst occupation to the sons of men, that [they may be distended] they might be occupied therein. Rightly and justly: that because they would not stand in truth, 155Dthey should, divided through multiplicity, be distended and occupied in vanity. Therefore, he says, I saw all things which are done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and affliction of spirit. Thanks be to God. Now for the first time thou hast begun to be wise. Now I see that thou hast the wisdom by which thou canst seek and search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. For wisely hast thou found, and wisely hast thou understood, that all is vanity and affliction of spirit. Yet I should like to know whence comes to thee this so sudden repentance. We expected something great, and that grand purpose had already made all men not attentive and expectant. For who would think that anything scanty could come forth out of so great a promise? To seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. And how afterward: God hath given this worst occupation 156Ato the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. What occupation dost thou mean? This, thou sayest: that they propose in their mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. Why then dost thou call this the worst occupation: To seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun? Take away, he says, "wisely." For it would not be the worst occupation, wisely to seek and to search out concerning all things which are done under the sun. But who can do this? It is above the sense of man to search out the causes of all things and to comprehend the reason of all that is done under the sun. Therefore it can be proposed, but it cannot be done, to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. For many things lie hid, and very many are hidden away, and all are reserved for hereafter; nor ought that to be searched out 156Bwhich is not lawful to be done. Therefore what cannot wisely be done cannot wisely be proposed, even if it is proposed to be done wisely. I therefore foolishly proposed what I could not wisely do: to seek and to search out concerning all things which are done under the sun. Foolish on both sides — both when I proposed what I could not, and when I did what I ought not — with a third folly added: that I knew neither of the two. Yet I sought and searched out what I proposed to seek and to search out; I sought, and I did not find what I sought. Yet I found something: namely, that I could not do what I had believed; and there I recognized that God hath given this worst occupation to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. Therefore it profited to have been foolish; but yet folly was not wisdom. Yet folly was given, that it might train 156Cthe sons of men unto wisdom. They have been left to themselves, that they may know themselves, and knowing may condemn and flee what they have become of themselves. This worst occupation therefore God hath given to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. For because the mind of man would not stand in that one good in which it could happily rest, and without distraction or occupation possess the fullness of the highest truth, it is cast forth outside itself and scattered into the multiplicity of visible things; and the truth which, blinded within, it cannot draw from the fountain, it attempts at least to flee, with parched inward parts, as it were through certain rivulets of visible things. But the more it pours itself outward by intention toward visible things, so much the more does it grow dark within from the knowledge of invisible things; 156Dbecause, while it is scattered more widely through outward things, it is the more blinded, being turned away from inward things. Whence fittingly Cain, when he beheld his own crime uncovered, and, reprobate by a greater crime, despaired of pardon for his crime, is read to have said to the Lord. Behold, thou dost cast me out this day from the face of the earth! and from thy face I shall be hid: and I shall be a vagabond and a fugitive upon the earth (Gen. IV). For the reprobate mind, cast out from the face of the Lord, is hidden, while, scattering itself through outward things, it is so much the more covered from the sight of the inward light, by how much the more it is held always occupied in thinking upon those things which are without. Whence fittingly it is there said, a vagabond and a fugitive. A vagabond, namely, through disordered concupiscence, and a fugitive through a sinful conscience: while he divides himself in concupiscence through thought, and in conscience through despair 157Aturns himself away, the sinner himself hides from himself the light of truth, that he may not be able to return. Therefore God hath given this worst occupation to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. Why did he give it, that they may be distended therein? That they may stretch and distend themselves, may labor and fail, and may return, and he may heal them. For if they were not distended in their occupation, nor labored, that occupation itself would become exceedingly sweet, and they would not be willing to forsake it, nor would they long any more to return where truth is. Therefore God gave them the worst occupation, that they may be distended therein. Let us give thanks to his mercy, because he has made us labor in our evil, in our turning away; because he has hedged our way with thorns, that we may return and be converted to him, the husband and spouse and friend of our soul, because it was well with us then 157Bmore than now. But this we did not understand, and we thought it was well with us when it was ill. And therefore he himself sprinkled bitterness and wormwood, and gave gall into the cup, upon our evilly sweet turning-away, which flatters unto death, and upon the worst occupation. And he gave this worst occupation to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. For occupation is the distraction and the binding of minds, which turns aside and scatters and ensnares souls, that they may not be strong enough to think upon those things which are of salvation — and therefore, occupation. Why the worst? Because there is another evil occupation also, but not the worst; and it is that which is busied about the necessities of mortal life, and is anxious about very many things; and that occupation is evil; and, to say something further, it is malice itself, so that of it that word is rightly understood: Sufficient for the day is its own malice. 157C(Matth. VI). This occupation therefore is necessary to the misery of mortal life, to be swallowed up afterward by the glory of immortal life; and therefore it is evil unto misery, but not evil unto fault; since, if they have a punishment alien from blessedness, it has not a fault contrary to justice and truth. But the occupation of curiosity, by which the mind stretches itself out to unlawful things, and presses on to search and to investigate what it either does not befit it to know, or is harmful to it — that is the worst occupation; because, while it spreads itself beyond measure, either it takes hold of what it has set its affection upon, and puffs up the mind through empty knowledge, or, if it is not able to lay hold of it, it wearies the mind through delay and despair.

157DThis worst occupation therefore God hath given to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. What is, that they may be distended? That outwardly they swell, inwardly they become empty. For what is distended appears indeed greater without; but whence it is seen to have taken increase from without, thence it is truly proved to have lost solidity within. For while it strives to reach beyond itself into that which is not, it begins to fail in itself and to grow empty of that which is. So indeed the human mind, while through curiosity it is stretched toward searching out those things which are outside itself, is hindered by the very occupation of its own searching, so that it cannot consider itself. This worst occupation therefore God hath given to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein. O worst 158Aoccupation! O ruinous distension! whither dost thou drag the mind? How much dost thou promise, and how much dost thou take away? Thou promisest to man the whole of what he himself is not, and thou takest away the whole of what he himself is. What if thou didst give the whole that thou promisest, and take away the whole that thou takest away? For what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, but suffer the loss of his own soul? (Matth. VI.) How much more now, since falsely thou promisest the whole, and truly thou takest away the whole? Thou art worst, distending and scattering, afflicting and torturing minds; suggesting to those whom thou rulest that those things are always to be desired whose searching out is either harmful or vain, and whose finding is much more either useless or ruinous. If therefore thou wert sweet, and couldst possess minds without labor, who would ever detect thy malice? But now 158Bthe very labor and affliction which thou bringest upon minds make thee hateful, and what thou promisest is the more easily recognized to be vain, while what thou bringest in is felt to be hard. Thus thou trainest many unto wisdom, who then at last fully detect how great a vanity follows after thee, when they have begun to feel by experience how great a difficulty lies hid in thee for those who labor. Therefore he added and said: I saw all things that are done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and affliction of spirit (Eccle. I). I saw, he says, where, didst thou see? Who taught thee? By doing, he says, I saw; by experiencing I came to know. What didst thou do? I set before, he says, in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun (Ibid.). And behold, I had begun to seek and to search out, and I thought that in so laborious a study I should find some issue. I stretched out 158Ctherefore my mind as far as I could; I poured out my thought upon surveying all things. I took sleep away from my eyes, nor did I give rest to my heart night and day, until I might find what my soul was seeking, that I might find the reason concerning all things which are done under the sun. But what end could there have been in such attempts? I did and I failed, I strove and I was driven back, until my soul wasted away and my senses were darkened; since, in so great a multitude of things and in the depth of hidden truth, while the understanding began both to be scattered and to be beaten back, I was no longer able to bear the weight of labor and the straitness of an inextricable struggle. Then, returned into myself and as it were driven back from that dense and impassable pathlessness of hidden nature against which I was striving to press, I began to think that it is foolish 158Dand vain that mortal man should seek with so obstinate a zeal the knowledge of those things which not only were made outside his nature, but also can neither add anything to his salvation if they be known, nor take anything away if they be not known. There therefore I saw that God hath given this worst occupation to the sons of men; that they may be distended therein, because all things which are done under the sun are all vanity and affliction of spirit. For because they have no fruit, they are vain; and because they afflict, they are harmful. For they do not help those who possess them, and they afflict those who seek them. For they cannot be sought without labor, but they can be possessed without profit. For the mind, as soon as it has been occupied with the care and desire of seeking and of finding them, and has poured itself out into them through the zeal of curiosity 159Aand the solicitude of cupidity — to be afflicted with a punishment worthy of its own rashness — is both scattered by their multiplicity and beaten back by their difficulty. I saw therefore all things which are done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and affliction of spirit. I saw that this very thing also had been vain, that I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. I saw that it is vain that the sons of men are occupied with the worst occupation, that they may be distended therein; and all this I saw when I had made trial of it, and I saw how great labor and affliction of spirit there was in this, that I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun. And I saw that all is vanity and affliction of spirit in all things which are done under the sun. These things therefore I saw. But why do not all the sons of men likewise 159Bsee the worst occupation which God hath given them, that they may be distended therein, so as to understand and see the vanity and affliction of spirit in all things which are done under the sun sole? Why do they labor and not feel it; are afflicted and scattered; and are distended in the worst occupation, and do not understand their own vanity and the affliction of spirit in all things which are done under the sun? Because, he says, the perverse are corrected with difficulty. Of which let us speak more at large.

The perverse are corrected with difficulty. Therefore they cannot understand, because they are perverse; and therefore they labor and do not feel it, and they take delight in their own affliction (Job 159CXXX), and think it is well with them while it is ill. For they are perverse to such a degree that the judgment of truth is not in them, thinking good to be what is evil, and what is good to be evil, putting darkness light, and light darkness; and esteeming bitter sweet, and sweet bitter (Isa. V). For they reckon that there are delights beneath the senses; and therefore they love their own griefs, and thrust themselves willingly upon the worst occupation, and are distended therein; because, while with blinded mind they desire what falsely seems to delight, they do not attend to what truly tortures and afflicts. Therefore then they do not see their own vanity and the affliction of spirit in all things which are done under the sun, because they are perverse and are corrected with difficulty. And the number of fools is infinite. For they are not only turned away, but also 159Dperverse. Turned away from God; in themselves perverse. And being turned away they are not easily converted, because being perverse they are corrected with difficulty. For if they were corrected in themselves, they would be converted through themselves. Because if they first received the judgment of truth in themselves, they would afterward see by their own judgment that vanity must be fled and truth followed. But now, being turned away, they do not see the light of truth; nor, being perverse, do they see by the light of truth; and therefore they are corrected with difficulty, because they know neither how to seek rightness and truth when absent, nor how to approve them when present. Therefore the perverse are corrected with difficulty, and the number of fools is infinite. For they would not be so many if they could easily be corrected. And in this it is manifestly shown how difficult the correction of the perverse is, that the multitude of fools 160Ais infinite Now therefore the perverse and stultitam are as hard to correction by their perversity as they are bold against truth by their multitude; and therefore the perverse are corrected with difficulty, and the number of fools is infinite. Wilt thou know, he says, how hard it is for the perverse to be corrected? Take me. I will this day become for thee an example of all. For I too was once perverse, and I myself did not understand my own perversity; but I thought myself to be upright, and to be acting rightly, when I proposed in my mind to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun; nor was there then any consideration of truth in me which might correct and restrain me, lest I should attempt to exceed my own measure, nor presume to desire those things which have not been given to men to know and to search out. I went down therefore into 160Bthe worst occupation which God hath given to the sons of men, that they may be distended therein, and I scattered my mind upon all things, and began to run through all things with thought, that I might seek and search out concerning all things which are done under the sun: but I was not able. And I began to labor and to be vehemently afflicted with weariness; and I saw that my mind, whithersoever it turned itself, was filled with grief and bitterness and anxiety, and the labor of seeking was immense, and the fruit of finding scanty. It came to pass therefore that at length the punishment itself and the great affliction made me prudent. And I saw all things which are done under the sun, and behold all is vanity and affliction of spirit. I knew therefore the truth, and I rejected vanity, because I felt the affliction. And I seemed already wholly corrected of my perversity; but there was still another entanglement; 160Cand I did not know that the perverse are corrected with difficulty. I was then already corrected, so that I might know truth out of vanity, and I was not yet corrected so that I should not be proud of the knowledge of truth. One chaff of error had already been shaken off, and there still remained another, more tenacious and clinging, the chaff of elation. For the perverse are corrected with such difficulty that they either do not admit correction and purgation at all, or do not receive it to perfection. Therefore I had already begun to be corrected, but I was not yet perfectly corrected; and therefore I knew the labor of my presumption, but I did not know the use of my finding. I knew that it is a vain affliction to seek things not profitable to salvation; but I did not yet know that it is a vain elation 160Dto be proud of things found.

Therefore I spoke in my heart, saying: Behold, I am become great. For I knew not that I had swollen with puffing up, and therefore I seemed great to myself, and I said in my heart: Behold, I am become great. In my heart I said: for out of the heart I swelled, and therefore in the heart I said it; because in the heart I saw whence I swelled, so that the elation might be there where the cause of the elation was. I spoke in my heart: Behold, I am become great. How great!

I went before, he says, in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem. Little by little one proceeds into corruption, and the depraved mind, as the swelling grows, is always cast headlong into the worse. First it thought of itself more than it ought; then it came even to the contempt of others. 161AI went before in wisdom all who had been before me in Jerusalem. Therefore then thou didst swell and wast puffed up, because thou didst go before in wisdom all who were before thee in Jerusalem. And how great a thing was this, that thou shouldst therefore lift up thy neck, because thou didst go before in wisdom all who were before thee in Jerusalem? Do not wonder, he says. Often pride rejoices more in singularity than in comparison. For elation does not always care to attend to what sort those are whom it goes before in the comparison; because sometimes this alone abounds for its exaltation, that among all who were before it in Jerusalem it recognizes none equal to itself. For this reason therefore I too, seeing that I went before in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem — even if I discerned that there had been few wise men before me in Jerusalem, 161Byet I gloried vehemently, considering myself superior to them in wisdom; since, although those before me, in comparison with whom I was made pre-eminent, were neither very many nor great, yet I saw that many wise men could come after me in Jerusalem, to whom I should become the first by the example of wisdom. That therefore I preferred myself in wisdom in comparison with those who went before looked also to this, that I gloried that I was established by a pre-eminent example into an authority for those to come, so that to those who went before I might be found the highest, but to those who came after the first author of wisdom. And therefore I spoke in my heart, saying: Behold, I am become great, and I went before in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem.

And my mind hath contemplated many things wisely, and 161CI have learned. Therefore thou wast already somewhat corrected, because thou didst not say, my mind hath contemplated all things wisely, as thou hadst above proposed to seek and to search out wisely concerning all things which are done under the sun; but thou didst bring in something more moderate, saying: My mind hath contemplated many things wisely — that thou mightest show thyself taught by the worst occupation, and to have seen the vanity and affliction of spirit, so as not to presume any further concerning all things; but yet not fully corrected, so as not to be proud concerning very many. By seeking all things therefore thou didst find very many, not all; and by failing toward all thou didst understand that man ought not to presume concerning all things; but by finding very many thou didst not consider that man ought not to be proud even concerning very many. Therefore in some respect thou wast corrected, and 161Din some respect uncorrected, when thou didst say: My mind hath contemplated many things wisely and I have learned; because, although they were many in comparison with few, yet those very things were few in comparison with all. But this looked rather to humility: that thou, who hadst already made trial of thine own failing with regard to all things, shouldst call the very many things thou hadst found not many in comparison with the few of others, but rather few in comparison with those things, all of them, which thou couldst not attain. But because the rashness of curiosity had already been repressed through its own failure and affliction in the searching out of all things, but the swelling of elation had grown in the contemplation of very many things, therefore thou didst still swell and say: Behold, I am become great, and I went before in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem, and my mind hath contemplated many things wisely 162Aand I have learned. But, I ask thee, if thou didst go before in wisdom all who were before thee in Jerusalem, from whom didst thou learn, that thou shouldst say: My mind hath contemplated many things wisely and I have learned? If thou wast wiser than all, from whom couldst thou learn what thou thyself didst not know? Or wast thou therefore also wiser than all, because thou didst learn from all, and the wisdom of all was gathered in thee alone, so that thence thou mightest go before in wisdom, out of all men, each one severally — in saying which thou hadst all men as teachers, from each severally? Or perhaps thou didst not learn from men, but the trials of things taught thee what thy mind contemplated wisely, so that thence the contemplation of wisdom might become more certain to reason, in that the very outcome of things manifestly proved it to one making trial? For it does not seem to accord with thy character that thou shouldst learn from men, 162Bthou who hadst been raised in esteem so far above men that thou didst think to seek and to search out not only many things wisely, but even all things which are done under the sun: therefore thou didst contemplate and learn, because thou didst think and prove, so that thou mightest demonstrate the force and power of thy understanding to be so much the greater, the more evidently thou didst bring forth all the arguments of thy reason to the visible trials of things. And perhaps this man willingly became a fool in his own wisdom, that he might teach fools wisdom. For he would not so diligently set forth to us the ways of his own error, unless in that same error of his he were thinking of our instruction. Therefore he still redoubles and commends that evil diligence of his, and subjoins how he obtained that wisdom of which he swelled, 162Csaying:

And I gave my heart that I might know prudence and doctrine, and errors and folly. Which words can be joined to those above in two ways under the same sense; for, being about first to show this elation, he had thus begun. I spoke in my heart; and then he subjoins what he spoke. Behold, I am become great, and I went before in wisdom all who were before me in Jerusalem; and my mind hath contemplated many things wisely and I have learned; and afterward he brought in that which we have just now set forth. And I gave my heart that I might know prudence and doctrine, errors and folly. This whole series can be comprehended under one continuation, so that he is understood to have said all this in his heart: namely, that he was made great; and that 162Dhe went before in wisdom all who were before him in Jerusalem; and that his mind contemplated many things wisely and learned many things; and that he gave his heart that he might know prudence and doctrine, and errors and folly; and that after all these things, when he had thus spoken in his heart and had exalted himself concerning the searching out and the consideration of so great things, at last, coming to his senses, he recognized that this glorying also was vain, and on this account subjoins:

And I knew that in these also there was vanity and affliction of spirit: in that in much wisdom there is much indignation; and he who adds knowledge, adds also labor. But if anyone wishes to distinguish the sentiment, and to divide off what we have brought forward last from the things said above, 163Ahe can draw it from what precedes in this way: that all the things which have been said above he spoke, as it were, in his heart — namely, that he was made great, that he surpassed in wisdom all who were before him in Jerusalem, that his mind contemplated many things wisely and learned them; and when he had said all these things in his heart, he then testifies that things higher still are to be investigated. As if he were saying: All these things which have been said above I spoke in my heart, and when I had spoken all these things together in my heart, then at last, taking confidence from the preceding contemplation, I gave my heart, that I might seek things higher still and investigate things deeper; namely, that I might know prudence and doctrine, and errors and folly. But that he says he gave his heart is to be understood thus: that he made it free 163Band unencumbered, so that it should not be divided among this thing or that, but should stretch itself wholly toward the consideration set before it. In this word he also expresses the type of pride and the swelling of elation: that he says he gave his heart to the contemplation of wisdom, as though the possibility of finding the truth lay ready at hand for him, if only the will to seek were not lacking. But to what end he gave his heart he sets forth, saying: That I might know prudence and doctrine, and errors and folly. Above he testified that he had contemplated and learned many things wisely; but now, after all these things, he disposes himself to investigate, that he may know prudence and doctrine, and errors and folly. Whence it is plain that the things above are to be referred to the nature of things, but these which he subjoins to the morals of men — using indeed a preposterous order, 163Csince first his own life ought to have been corrected by circumspection of morals, and then study applied to the other things which lay outside his own nature, so that first the inner eyes of the heart might be cleansed from vices, and afterward opened in the contemplation of truth. But elation, which wished to appear great without, sought first the outward things, so that first, through outward knowledge, it might open a way for boasting, and then, by searching its own inward things as well, might cast them forth without for display. Whence rightly, when he had said that he had sought prudence, he added doctrine equally; because a mind greedy of glory and display wished by no means to have the prudence of circumspection for living well, but for teaching; and therefore it reckoned that the knowledge of prudence, without the knowledge of doctrine, would be useless to it and unfruitful. 163DBut as for his confessing that he wished to know errors and folly also: by no means did he wish to know evils for this, that once known he might avoid them; but that he might both exalt himself over the knowledge of evils, and condemn others for their work. Now error is when evil is committed through ignorance, but folly is when evil that is known is not avoided. Therefore he wished to know both goods and evils alike, and along with the knowledge of both he coveted doctrine at the same time, so that all that the mind might comprehend through knowledge, it might be able to manifest for display through doctrine. But the perverse soul, finding everywhere the punishment of its own wickedness, fled back, on account of the labor and affliction of spirit, from all that it had inordinately desired for the sake of elation. 164AFor because curiosity was driving him to inquiry and pride to display alike, it was fitting that labor should press him as swollen, and that occupation should scatter him as curious, so that at least in punishment he might recognize his own vice, and that, if not the love of virtue, then the pain of affliction might hold him within measure. Therefore above, being curious, he found occupation; but here, being elated, labor and affliction; since, while he seeks to know evils and goods not for edification but for elation, that very knowledge becomes for him a witness of his own depravity, so that the knowledge which in his elation he was seeking for display reproves the wicked man through his conscience. For he is compelled to despise himself from the very thing by which he strives to become great in the eyes of others; because while he seeks to know more of the truth that he may insinuate it to others, 164Bhe sees the more in himself, of his depravity, what he must condemn. Hence, therefore, the soul is indignant with its very self, and takes up a certain quarrel and wrestling against itself, because the foulness of the vices which pride despises, depravity defends. In this conflict of such a kind, therefore, great labor and indignation of pride is born; because, while it disdains to lie subject to the vices and strives to drive them from itself, it is overcome by its own depraved desires, so that it may not be able to accomplish what it wills. Thence, therefore, it now begins to abominate even the very knowledge of truth, so that, since on account of its infirmity it cannot take away what it hates in itself, it may at least be able, through ignorance, not to see it. Therefore, when he had said that he had found labor and affliction in his knowledge, and had set forth whence that same affliction and labor came, saying: In that 164Cin much wisdom there is much indignation, and he who adds knowledge, adds also labor — he at once subjoins how, worn down and seized with accidie by that same affliction of spirit and labor and indignation, he overcame knowledge itself, and turned his soul away from the inquiry of wisdom, where he was afflicted, to delights and pleasure, saying:

(ECCLES. II.) I said in my heart: I will go and abound in delights and enjoy good things. Behold how the despairing mind casts itself wholly into pleasure, and now calls the blandishments of the flesh alone good things, because in them it finds no labor and affliction, reckoning as evil, as it were, 164Dthe inquiry into truth, in which it had earlier labored, distending itself through curiosity more than was right. But this estimation, in its turn, because it displays manifest folly, is the more quickly caught out; because the pleasure of the flesh, which seemed sweet to one desiring it, is at once rejected by one who has tried it. Whence he immediately adds, saying:

And I saw that this also was vanity. Laughter I counted an error, and to joy I said: Why art thou deceived in vain? But how great a vanity there is in the delights of the flesh, I remember that I said above. Whence the remaining things which follow are to be considered by us, because these too, although they seem plain in themselves, yet have perhaps something which diligent investigation may add. He says, therefore: Laughter I counted an error, and to joy I said: In vain art thou deceived? 165AIt is clear to all that through laughter the gladness conceived within is in a certain fashion drawn outward, and that what lay hidden within of joy is published abroad — the bars of modesty being, as it were, broken — by a certain levity and incontinence of a slippery mind. And therefore laughter is rightly called an error; because when the mind pours its joy outward through unfitting gladness, going as it were to the left, it forsakes the straight way by which it ought to have gone, rejoicing, into God. But it is to be known that spiritual joy by no means dissolves the soul into laughter; but only that gladness which is conceived from the blandishment of the flesh is easily opened out also through a motion of the flesh. For because inordinate joy, in first entering the soul, broke the bars of continence, afterward, when it has begun to grow within, it easily bursts out without 165Bmodesty by the same way by which it slipped in. For a slippery mind pours out the perverse seed which it first conceives without modesty, bringing it to birth afterward, as it were, without chastity; nor can it hold itself back from casting out the gladness growing within, the bars of whose integrity were broken when it was conceiving it. First, therefore, it is deceived, when it takes in the allurements of the flattering world to its joy within; afterward it errs, when it pours out the joy conceived within, through laughter, into the wantonness of the world. It is to be noted that joy is only reproved, but laughter is altogether rejected; because laughter is in every way evil, while joy is not always evil, save when it is of evil; and therefore he rejects the one and chastises the other, so that both what is utterly evil may be guarded against, and what can be good may be corrected. 165CTherefore, he says: Laughter I counted an error, and to joy I said: Why art thou deceived in vain? It is deceived, therefore, when it takes delight in harmful things, and thinks it is well with it when it is ill. It is deceived also when it is wrapped up in the occupation of present delights, and is hindered, so that it may not be able to consider the evils to come.

But why in vain? It is deceived in vain, because the delights of the world can indeed themselves turn the heart away from the consideration of evils to come; but they cannot free it from the pressure of those that come upon it. It is deceived in vain also, because the joys of a deceptive good, in which it exults, are mingled with such great bitternesses that they ought rightly to displease, even if they were bound to remain. In vain, therefore, is it deceived on both sides; namely, both when it does not see the evil which it suffers, and when it does not foresee the evil 165Dwhich it shall suffer; since both the reason is manifest which can judge the one for him who considers it well, and the experience is present which shows the other to him who suffers it. Therefore he adds and says:

I thought therefore in my heart to withdraw my flesh from wine, that I might carry over my mind to wisdom, and might shun folly, until I should see what was useful for the sons of men: with what deed there is need under the sun, in the number of the days of his life. O human heart, where art thou? How hast thou come hither, that thou knowest not this — what is useful for the sons of men, with what deed there is need under the sun, in the number of the days of his life? Where art thou, that thou art ignorant of this? Where art thou, Adam, where art thou? I heard, he says, thy voice, and I hid myself (Gen. III). O thou hidden one, from whom hast thou hidden thyself? O 166Ahidden one, where art thou? How far off art thou, and how near art thou? How far art thou from him, and how near art thou to him? Therefore, where art thou? Behold, thy God seeks thee and cries: Where art thou? Thou turnest thyself away that thou mayest lie hid, and closest thine eyes that thou mayest not see. But he, seeing one who does not see — and therefore does not see, because he desires not to be seen — cries and says, on account of thy affection and not on account of any defect of his own: Adam, where art thou? He seeks thee, therefore, that thou mayest find him; and he seeks thee that thou too mayest seek him and say: Lord, where art thou? But thou, what dost thou do? For he, if he has lost, yet seeks; if he has lost, he has not lost the whole, because he sees what he has lost; and therefore he seeks what he has lost, because he sees what he has lost. For he would not seek unless he saw. But thou, what? Adam, where art thou? Thou hast lost, and the whole; thou hast lost, because thou hast both lost, 166Bthat thou mightest not have, and hast ceased to see, that thou mightest not seek. For if thou seest what thou hast not, thou understandest what thou art to seek. But now thou art far off and art exiled from the truth, so that thou canst not see whence thou hast come and whither thou must return. Therefore thou seekest what thou oughtest to seek; because thou knowest not what thou hast lost. Thou seekest what is useful for the sons of men: with what deed there is need under the sun, in the number of the days of his life! Oh, how thou oughtest to have known this! But now thou art hidden from the truth, lying hid under the shadow of thine own ignorance; because thou hast withdrawn far off and hast been unwilling to be with her, without whom thou canst not be. For because thou canst not be without her, therefore thou seekest; and because thou art turned away and hidden, therefore thou knowest not what thou oughtest to seek — though yet in this thou hast by no means been able to be hidden from her, so as not to understand that thou must seek, 166Csince thou seest that this too is lacking to thee which thou art seeking. Understand, therefore, that at least in this thou art utterly not hidden; because she follows him who flees, and presses herself upon him who is turned away, and teaches that she must be sought by him to whom she does not offer herself to be seen. Although this very thing too, outside the truth, thou dost not see — that thou seest it must be sought by thee, that thou seest it is lacking, granted that what it is thou dost not see. Therefore in the truth thou seest that thou must seek what thou dost not see to be the truth. Why is this? Because thou art hidden. For if thou wert not hidden, thou wouldest see that nothing besides the truth must be sought; and the truth itself thou wouldest not seek, but wouldest have. Now thou art hidden, and thou dost not see; and yet thou art not forsaken, because thou art admonished to seek what thou dost not see. Therefore it is said to thee: Adam, where art thou? — that thou mayest return to the truth and find the truth. 166DThou wert unwilling to stand in the truth; now return to the truth, because thou canst not stand outside the truth. A wanderer and a fugitive and unstable shalt thou be all the days in which thou art not with her and in her; nor shall thy heart find where it may rest, if it be unwilling to stand in her; because neither will it stand outside her so as to seek, nor will it find, besides her, anything in which to rest. Upward, downward, far off and near, wherever it may go, it will not find rest until it finds her. Why art thou in tumult, unhappy one? Thou laughest, thou weepest, thou art cherished, thou art afflicted: what is that to wisdom? For because in wantonness and pleasure thou hast been foolish, in affliction thou shalt be wretched. What more will they be able to confer upon thee? Vanity of vanities: vanity of vanities, and all things vanity (Eccle. I). 167ABut thou hadst not yet come to know these things. Therefore, by thine own sense and thine own wisdom — which in her sight is folly — puffed up rather than solid, thou wert trying to struggle on, and didst suppose that thou wouldest do something when thou wert nothing. Thou hast tried all things, and everywhere thou hast failed. Soft things and hard, smooth and rough, prosperous and adverse: outside the truth they can corrupt, they cannot amend. Therefore thou wavest and art tossed; thou fallest and art thrown down and art driven on; thou desirest and dost not obtain. Groping and not seeing, thou goest forward in vain against what is opposite, seeking the truth where it is not. And thou, where art thou? She is within, and thou art without; and therefore she cries to thee and says: Adam, where art thou? Thou seekest, that she may reprove thy ignorance; she walks, that she may show thy instability. When the Lord was walking about in paradise at the hour after midday, he called and said: Adam, 167Bwhere art thou? (Gen. III.) He did not walk, but walked about. What is "he walked about"? Hither and thither, as if wandering and roving, not going straight forward, but proceeding wherever — this is to have walked about. And why did he wish to walk about thus? That he might show himself outwardly such as he (had begun to be) within. For already the truth had been moved, and was wavering, so as to withdraw from the heart of the sinner. Nay rather, the truth stood and the sinful conscience wavered; and therefore the truth walked about without, because within the sinner wavered away from the truth. Yet it walked about and did not depart, nor did it go off straight on, drawing far away as though irrevocable and never to return again; but circling near and walking about close by, it went away and did not go away, now going and now returning, and surging with a certain great uncertainty, as though unwilling to desert its own seat and yet not 167Cable to endure a polluted dwelling. What doest thou, Adam? Why art thou silent? Call her as she departs, follow her as she flees; since she is still near and waits to see whether perchance she be called back, and therefore she makes delay and gently threatens her departure, grieving that she has been injured and violently cast out; and she signifies that she wishes to return, if by chance she be invited to come. Therefore she signifies that she has not gone quickly away, but is waiting still: that she will go, nevertheless; and now, because there is no one to call her back, that she will go; and behold, that she walks in order to depart — since there is no one mindful of love, who remembers charity, who has at heart the affection of fellowship. O unhappy Adam, where is thy remembrance? Where hast thou fixed thy soul, that thou endurest these things? O hard one, hardened and obdurate, could not so great kindness, so great a flame, so vast an ardor of love soften thee, that thou shouldest melt and run 167Dafter her? But thou, what doest thou? I heard, he says, thy voice, and I hid myself. Why? Because I was naked (ibid.). Therefore thou fleest the truth, because thou lovest depravity. But she, what does she do? She follows him who flees, she who forsook him as he departed. She who was turned away from him who did wicked things calls back him who persists in iniquity. Adam, where art thou? I, he says, know where thou art; thou knowest not. Therefore, where art thou? Attend to where thou art, that thou mayest correct what thou hast been made, and return to him by whom thou wert made. Adam, where art thou? I heard, Lord, thy voice, and I hid myself. O hidden and not hidden, not seeing and yet seen, from whom hast thou hidden thyself? I heard the voice, and the face thou didst not see. Why? Because hidden. For this thou hast gained by hiding thyself, that thou shouldest not see him by whom thou wast seen. Whom indeed 168Athou wast able to flee, but wast not able to escape; because not even hidden didst thou lie concealed from him. Therefore, being sought, thou wast found, because lying hid thou wast not hidden. But thou, by thy malice, fleest again, and again fleest, and art found and fleest; and always thou fleest, and dost not escape. Held, thou fleest; sought, thou fleest; searched out, thou deniest. Therefore, being sought, thou art found; having denied, thou art convicted; convicted, thou art condemned. Let us see, therefore, now, lest perchance we have made so great a digression without cause. Let us see our Adam — that ancient one, and new still by a repeated malice. Let us see him renewing still his old pursuits, and, a deserter from the truth, seeking the shade and the hiding-places and the coverings of leaves; convicted on every side, never willing to be reproved. Not able to lie hid, and always fleeing. Let us see, therefore, what he does. 168BFor what does he do? He saw the food and gazed upon it, since it is delightful to the sight and sweet to eat (ibid.); and he opened his jaws and said: I will go, and I will abound in delights, and I will enjoy good things. And behold, behind his back wisdom and truth cried out and said: Adam, where art thou? But he, hearing her voice and convicted by the truth crying within, could not deny the truth, and said: I heard, Lord, thy voice; and I saw truly that this was vanity, and therefore laughter I counted an error, and to joy I said: Why art thou deceived in vain? Behold a man hearing the truth and confessing the truth. Who, think you, is this man? He seems altogether great, and drawing near to the truth, who thus professes the truth. Truly great, if he were not hidden. For he hears, and does not see the truth; because he himself is without through concupiscence, 168Cbut the truth is within through wisdom. And the truth wishes to win him, and calls him back to herself, and again and so again cries from within and says: Adam, where art thou? But he, feeling himself betrayed and convicted, when one approach is blocked up, seeks other hiding-places for flight; and, held in check from pleasure, pours himself out toward avarice For indeed he first sought after the fruit for eating; now he seeks the leaves for shade, and hides himself from the light of the truth the more deeply, the more wickedly he covers the vice of ambition under the pursuit of thrift. Therefore he adds and says: I thought in my heart to withdraw my flesh from wine. Why? That I might, he says, carry over my mind to wisdom, and might shun folly. Well hast thou done this. For no man can serve two masters (Matth. VI). Therefore thou hast done well, in cutting away 168Dfrom thee the cloudy and darkening conscience, the delight of the flesh, so that thou mightest be able to find the luminous delight of truth, having nothing of impurity. Well hast thou done in this, that thou didst propose to withdraw thy flesh from wine, that thou mightest the better make thy soul drunk with wisdom, and gather it inward to its very self: where wisdom shines, where truth is known and prudence is found. For this very thing too was to shun folly: not to pour oneself out after empty and vain things to be desired, but to conform to the truth the whole intention of the mind and all the endeavors of the heart, restraining them under the governance of reason. This, therefore, thou hast done well. But how long? Until, he says, I should see what was useful for the sons of men: with what deed there is need 169Aunder the sun, in the number of the days of his life. See therefore that thou persevere, that thou seek in the truth, and that thou seek perseveringly; because the truth is not found save by those who seek her in the truth. Who are they who seek her in the truth? Those who approach her with the whole heart. Those who do not come half and withdraw half, but come whole and come wholly: these seek the truth in the truth. But those who gather their heart in one place and scatter it in another — these do not approach whole, nor do they approach wholly, and therefore they do not find the truth; because what they seemed to have gained of the truth in one place, they lose in another. Who gather wages and put them into a bag with holes (Agg. I). If thrift gathers and avarice scatters, what does it profit? What does it confer if, binding the gullet, thou hast gathered through continence of pleasure, 169Band, opening the eyes, hast scattered through ambition? Thou markest that thou hast entered; but that thou hast gone out, thou markest not. If thou enterest and goest out, thou art without; just as, if thou goest out and enterest, thou art within. But if thou art without, wherever thou art thou art not with the truth; because the truth is within. And what does it matter where thou art, if thou art not there where the truth is? From wherever thou comest and by whatever way thou enterest, if thou art within, thou art well; because thou art with the truth. And wherever thou goest, by whatever way thou goest out, if thou art without, thou art ill; because thou art not with the truth. If, therefore, thou seekest in the truth, seek whole, approach whole, enter whole; because the truth is within. Why dost thou seek so long, and dost not find what thou seekest? Because thou seekest ill, because thou seekest there where what thou seekest is not. For thou seekest without, and what thou seekest is within. Therefore thou seekest ill, and 169Ctherefore thou canst not find what thou seekest, and for that reason thou wilt not be able to find rest there, where art thou? because the truth is not there where thou art. Where art thou? Under the shade, under the leaves; because thou hast lost the fruit, and therefore appearance deceives thee and the truth is not in thee. Wherever he shall have gone, thou wilt be defrauded: shadow is the whole of what thou seest, and the truth lies hidden. What is the shadow? The appearance of visible things is the shadow, and thou hast poured out thy soul into them, and hast hidden thyself under the leaves that thou mightest lie hid. And how dost thou seek the light while entering the darkness: in the fruit thou hast beheld vanity, and in the leaves dost thou think the truth to be? If all earthly things are vain for enjoying: how are they not much more vain for the seeing? For if they do not confer the true good on those who enjoy them, what can they confer on those who possess 169Dand do not enjoy? Why then, after the good purpose of continence and the zeal for seeking wisdom, art thou so quickly turned again to vain occupation? Why? Save because thy mind has been cast forth without, and made a wanderer and a fugitive upon the earth. And therefore it cannot stand, because it is not fixed in the truth. Therefore, thou sayest, I made my works great, etc.

I made my works great. What works? I built myself houses, I planted vineyards, I made gardens and orchards, and I planted them with trees of every kind, and I built myself pools of water, that I might water the wood of sprouting trees. This is what I said. Thou seekest without 170Awhat thou hast lost within. Thou makest thy works great, because in thine own self thou hast been made less. Thou buildest houses, because thou hast been cast forth from the dwelling of thine own conscience. Thou plantest vineyards and makest gardens, because the shoots of wisdom in thy heart have withered. Thou buildest pools, thou who hast not the fountain of life leaping up within. Thou waterest the wood of sprouting trees, because thou seekest shade, the light of truth being lost. What hast thou to do with these delights, unhappy one, forgetful of thine own goods? Where is now what a little before thou didst propose — to withdraw thy flesh from wine — thou who now makest thy soul drunk with every wantonness and vanity? Is wisdom sought thus? Thou didst seem to have gone out thither; how hast thou returned so quickly? How? Save because thou hast walked in a circuit, and thy path was tangled, and thrift led thee back 170Bwhere gluttony had laid thee low. Behold, again thou hast fallen into pleasure, and hast been made the captive of vanity. How hast thou come hither, save because thou didst hear his voice and didst hide thyself? For this is the shadow of vanity under which thou liest hid, that thou mayest not see the truth. How, therefore, hast thou come hither? Oughtest thou not to have sought wisdom? But thy mind, exiled far from the truth and ignorant of the way of truth — from the very point at which it restrained itself from the one vice of pleasure by continence of the gullet, from that same point it poured itself out the more licentiously into every wantonness and superstition through the concupiscence of the eyes; and it is now the more wickedly corrupted in the whole, the more it seemed corrected in some part, however small. For before, thou wast corrupted and wast humbled, since thou didst see and understand what thou wast suffering; now, under the appearance of virtues, thou hast been made 170Cthe prey of vices. Within, avarice under the cover of thrift; and while it persuades the mind not to desert temperance in the things it possesses, it makes it keep things that will bring no profit. Thence, riches being multiplied, pride follows, while what has been sought through ambition is possessed for elation. Thence all these portents of vanity have arisen: that the foolish mind reckons the true good is to be found outside, in the trials of things — not as though the true good were to be sought within by means of the things which are without, but as though it consisted in them. Therefore without modesty it boldly diffuses itself through all things; and that mind which had found affliction in the abstinence of the flesh, another approach having been found through the concupiscence of the eyes, feeds carnal affection the more manifoldly. For it does not suffice the wanton man 170Dto take delight in the things which were made for human service and for enjoyment, unless also, by a pride transgressing the equality of condition, he lord it over men. For this is what he adds after the rest and among the rest of his superstitions, saying.

I possessed menservants and maidservants, and had a great household. He was made lord of men, who was the servant of vices. How much better would a Lord be for thee, and here a companion? For there, to be lord would be the uprightness of one who reigns. But here, to be lord is not the uprightness of one who resists, but the iniquity of one who oppresses and the profit of one who endures. But the creature of glory attends to the appearance outwardly; the disease within it does not attend to. It thinks that what is puffed up is great, and therefore rejoices to be seen great outwardly. 171ABut it does not fear to be empty and void within. I possessed, he says, menservants and maidservants, and had a great household. What could a great household have done without great possession, and much money, and an abundance of means? Therefore he added and said:

Herds also, and great flocks of sheep, beyond all who were before me in Jerusalem. Behold abundance. Where is glory? I heaped up for myself silver and gold, and the substance of kings and of provinces. How great the glory. And what follows, save that a mind forward to boasting quickly grows soft through wantonness and is unnerved, and says:

I made myself singers, men and women, and the delights of the sons of men, cups and small pitchers [urceos] for the service 171Bof pouring wines: and I surpassed in riches all who were before me in Jerusalem. Wisdom also persevered with me. Great confidence. Therefore thou hast sinned securely. Therefore thou hast confidently poured out thy heart into the delights of pleasure, and upon the allurements of the beauties and enjoyments of vanity. Why? Because wisdom had persevered with thee. For why shouldest thou seek her, set within, if she herself did not leave thee wandering without? Yet what is this wisdom which so loves runnings-about and disdains the secret place? See lest perchance the likeness deceive thee, and what seems to be wisdom be not wisdom. Beware lest thou be deceived in the shadow of the sons, where thy father lay hid, who could not see the truth. For a shadow makes darkness; and if it seems to have rest, it has not light. Beware therefore lest thou too, while 171Cunder the shadow, thou seekest the rest of leaves, begin to suffer gloom. Nor canst thou, set in the shadow, discern clearly; because the image which appears is shadow alone, not truth. Hold this shadow of leaves, therefore, in suspicion, lest thou be deceived. What are the leaves? The appearances of visible things are the leaves, which now indeed appear beautiful and green, but will fall suddenly when the whirlwind has gone forth. What are the leaves? Houses, vineyards, gardens, pools, the wood of sprouting trees, households, possessions, gold, silver, the substance of kings and of provinces; lyres, citharas, pipes, organs, cups and pitchers, and precious vessels riches and pomps, and glory: all these are leaves. Why leaves? Because vain, because fleeting, because transitory: therefore leaves. They are green indeed 171Dfor a little time, but quickly wither and fall. But yet, while they stand, they make shade and have their own refreshment; but it is a dark shadow, and hostile to light. To the flesh indeed it seems to afford refreshment for a time, but it makes the eyes grow dim. Therefore we ought to hold the shadow in suspicion, and not easily to believe the things which are seen in the shadow. For images deceive the eyes, because the shadow itself too is an image, not truth. Therefore I said that thou shouldest hold the shadow in suspicion, thou who confessest thyself set under the leaves. Under the leaves thou art, in the shadow thou art, and thou seest wisdom beside thee. See diligently lest perchance it be not wisdom, but something else lying hid under her appearance. For what wisdom is there in the shadow of leaves? For the shadow of the leaves is delight, and enjoyment in the appearance and beauty of transitory things. And 172Athis has its own wisdom. For thus men call wisdom that by which this rest, and this tranquility of the flesh, is cunningly and craftily sought and prudently preserved. And this is the wisdom by which the children of this world and the children of darkness are more prudent than the children of light in their generation (Luc. XVI) — which perseveres with those who lie in the shadow of the leaves; and they cannot see the light of true wisdom, in whose sight this wisdom is folly. For because they look to the advantages of the flesh alone, they do not attend to the losses of the soul; and because they wish to be cautious where there is nothing to be feared, they become foolish and imprudent to thee, where the danger is grave and the loss intolerable. For what wisdom is it to cherish the flesh and to neglect the soul? What wisdom is it to flee with the whole intention that which is troublesome 172Bto the flesh for a little time, and not to guard against that which is agreed to be always deadly to the soul? This is the wisdom in which this man glories, lying under the shadow of the leaves. O leaves, and shadow, of what sort is your fruit? See, Adam, of what sort are thy leaves, and of what sort is thy fruit? Thou hast hidden thyself, and thy leaves afforded a covert, that, covered, thou mightest not see the truth. Thou hast eaten, and thy fruit furnished food, that, corrupted by the eating, thou mightest lose immortality. Recognize, wretched one; recognize thy evil; recognize thy misery; recognize where thou art and what thou hast been made. Turn thyself from the shadow to the brightness of light, that thou mayest not only hear the words but also see the face of the truth.

• 172C

And when I had turned myself to all the works which my hands had made, and to the labors in which I had sweated in vain, I saw in all things vanity and affliction of mind, and that nothing remains under the sun. We have heard above with how great zeal this man toiled at gathering riches and increasing his goods; and then, on his own testimony, we have learned how he poured out his soul upon wantonness and upon the trying of pleasure, in those affluences of things which he had prepared; but now let us hear what he subjoins after all these things. When, he says, I had turned myself to all the works which my hands had made, and to the labors in which I had sweated in vain, I saw in 172Dall things vanity, and affliction of mind, and that nothing remains under the sun. And so at the outset this presses a question upon us: how does this man now for the first time say that he has turned himself to seeing his own works, when hitherto he seems to have done nothing else than to have applied his intention and his zeal to these things? When he made his works great, built houses, planted vineyards, and made gardens and orchards, and built pools, had menservants and maidservants, herds and flocks, silver and gold, the substance of kings and of provinces, and the delights of the sons of men. When, in short, not only in deed but also in mind he had so plunged himself into the love of his own things and into pleasure that he reckoned this his own portion, and in a manner believed himself to have been made for nothing else than that 173Ahe might delight himself in all these things which he had prepared: did he not see what he was doing? But he saw the appearance; he did not foresee the corruption. He saw what those things seemed to be which stood, but he did not attend to what those had become which had perished. For the love of present things, while it turned the whole intention of the mind upon itself, and, having entered through the gaze of the flesh into the deceptive appearance of the things that were seen, occupied the eyes of the heart as well, at one and the same time both took away the memory of things past and hid the foresight of things to come. Whence it came about that, while he looked to those things alone which were seen, he could not recognize the truth in them either; and at the same time, in his own works, being turned toward them, he saw the appearance which was coveted, and being turned away, he did not recognize the vanity which was to be guarded against. But it sometimes happens that 173Btemporal goods are the more quickly detected to be vain when they have begun to abound the more — goods which often, when they are not had, are reckoned to have been able to profit, had they been at hand. But when, once had, they cannot, even in their own affluence, drive out the poverty of the mind, then for the first time they make manifest to him who tries them how scant a fruit they confer for those who labor. Whence fittingly this man, after so great an affluence of all things and the use of pleasures, says that he turned himself, that he might understand his own vanity. Because when he began to learn by experience that the things he possessed could not make him happy, then he recognized that the things sought with empty labor had made him far more wretched. When, he says, I had turned myself to all the works which my hands had made — namely, looking back to what sort of fruit could have followed such great labors — then, he says, I found 173Cthat the fruit of my labors was not repaid me in an equal balance, and therefore I judged that I had labored in vain, looking back on the labors in which I had sweated in vain. For in all things there is vanity and affliction of mind. First affliction, afterward vanity; but also after vanity, affliction; and before vanity, affliction; and in vanity, affliction; and the whole is vanity, and the whole is affliction. For all things are vain which, even while they are, do not show forth to their lovers what they promise; and when they are thought to be held fast, they pass away. But it could perhaps have seemed tolerable, if there were vanity alone and there were not affliction. But as it is, there is both affliction before vanity, and affliction in vanity, and affliction after vanity, since the things that were possessed with love can neither be acquired without labor, nor kept without anxiety, 173Dnor lost without grief. And therefore both the whole is vanity and the whole is affliction, because both in affliction there is vanity and in vanity affliction. And on this account, being turned, he rightly says: I saw in all things vanity and affliction of mind: and that nothing remains under the sun. For, instructed in his own affairs, he began to judge the affairs of others also; and what he had come to know in part, he truly pronounced of the whole, saying: Nothing remains under the sun. And from this it can be gathered how much, in other matters, whether toward good or toward evil, it avails a man to know what sort of man he himself has been to himself. For in some measure all things begin to be to you that which you yourself have been to yourself. If you do not see yourself, you see nothing well. If you are not deceived in the judgment of yourself, you are easily directed in the judgment of another. As here too, 174Abeing turned and directed, when he had subjoined concerning his own works: He saw in all things vanity and affliction of mind — at once, as one instructed in his own affairs, he begins to judge the affairs of others, and from the judgment of his own works he forms a sentiment about all things, saying: And that nothing remains under the sun. But because for perfection it does not suffice to reprove evils unless a man know also how to choose goods, he subjoined and said:

I passed over to contemplate wisdom. "Hebrew" is interpreted one passing over. This man, therefore, was made a Hebrew in order to contemplate wisdom. And indeed he himself was a Hebrew before too according to the flesh, but he was not a Hebrew according to the truth, until he began to pass over to contemplate wisdom. Just as one is called a Jew according to the flesh, and a Jew 174Baccording to the truth, so one is a Hebrew according to the flesh and another a Hebrew according to the truth. But he who is openly a Jew according to the flesh, and he who is openly a Hebrew according to the flesh, is not truly a Jew, and is not a true Hebrew. But he who in secret is a Jew according to the spirit, and according to the spirit is a Hebrew, is truly a Jew and truly a Hebrew. For many pass over according to the flesh and do not pass over according to the truth, because they do not pass over in order to arrive at the truth. They would more easily cross the seas and traverse far-off regions than reach the truth — and she is near. Near is, says Scripture, the word in thy mouth (Rom. X); and the truth of the word is in the heart, and the word itself is truth, because the truth is the word. 174CAnd though the truth herself is so near, yet nothing is farther from those who love folly. But what is more foolish than always to look upon the lowest things, and to have countenances bent down to the earth? For this was given to the beasts, to whom it is granted to desire nothing beyond. But wisdom dwells in the things above; and to her they are unwilling to be lifted up, who are compared to the beasts and gaze upon the earth. This is that very folly out of which this man passed over to contemplate wisdom, when he despised the false goods which he had loved on earth, and lifted himself up to contemplate and to love the true goods which are above; because in all these things which are below under the sun he beheld vanity. Therefore, when he had seen in all things vanity and affliction of mind, and that nothing remains under 174Dthe sun, he passed over to contemplate wisdom above the sun. O how difficult a passage, and a way of how many days, for those who have weak steps! And I know not whether the whole life of a man can suffice to accomplish this journey. For who, living in this mortal life, will be able to lay hold of wisdom fully? For wisdom is drawn from hidden things and is found in hidden things; and wisdom always loves the secret place, nor does she offer herself to be contemplated save to those who enter in to her. But this is very grievous to weak souls: that they should leave what they have loved and forsake what is beloved, and pass over to the desiring of things which they do not know unless they be instructed by their own griefs, and that things which before were sweet should begin to be bitter; and thus in a certain manner many are drawn back, and are compelled to enter and to pass over to contemplate 175Awisdom. For when they have begun to taste and to understand the sweetness and pleasantness of wisdom, then they have no more need to be compelled, but follow willingly; and they gladly despise all things and leave all things, that they may pass over to contemplate wisdom; and then they arrive quickly, because they run swiftly and seek ardently, and wisdom begins to be near to them, because they themselves draw near to her and do not go far off from her into alien desires. So when Moses was in the desert a shepherd of animals, and had an Ethiopian woman for a wife, he did not yet know any fire but a consuming one; therefore he wondered that the bush was burning and was not burned up (Exod. III). For as long as the soul feeds its own desires upon the lowest pleasures, and, bound by carnal concupiscence, has not yet come to the embraces 175Bof wisdom, it is in a fire consuming and devouring, even to perdition. For the flame of lust and the love of the flesh consume those whom they kindle. But the love of wisdom has light, and has no consuming; and if it kindles the cold, yet it does not burn up those who are burning. Therefore Moses wondered how the bush was burning and was not burned up. For he too was burning, because he had an Ethiopian wife; nor was this a miracle to him, but to burn and not be burned up: what he had not experienced, this was a miracle to him. And the miracle itself drew him and urged him to pass over and see the greatest vision — how the bush was burning and was not burned up; and he began to run into a sweeter desire, and to forget the old longings where he was burning and was burned up, 175Cand to loathe the love of his Ethiopian wife, because she was black and was not beautiful, nor like that Shunamite woman who warms old men and does not burn the young. For that fire, by which the bush was burning and was not burned up, did not signify the love of this Shunamite, that is, of wisdom; and therefore Moses, after he had passed over to see the vision, and had begun to feel how sweetly her flame burned, could no longer be held by the love of his Ethiopian wife, but, his heart kindled with a better fire, came even to converse with the Most High, and was sent for the salvation of the people. For in fire God spoke to him, and out of the fire he was heard, and through fire he was understood. And there was within a flame which had set his heart alight, by which, like the bush, he was burning and was not burned up. The mind itself had conceived God in fire, 175Dand through fire it knew God. For unless it had burned, it would not have seen nor known; because fire itself is love, and love itself is knowledge. He knew, therefore, and loved; he saw and burned; he tasted and loved; and fire conquered fire, love overcame delight. The Ethiopian woman was despised, deformed and black, whom her own flame had darkened, and her very love made her not lovable. She was despised in comparison with the fairer one; nor did he wish to serve any longer for her, who recognized that with her he would always be a slave. For the carnal life and the concupiscence of the flesh is not from God the Father, but from the devil the father; and it consigns its own lovers to the servitude of its father and subjects them to his domination. And Moses serves and feeds 176Athe cattle, and buys the love of a foul wife with base attendance; nor can he be free until God comes in fire and appears in love. For then he easily despises what he had loved wickedly, when he has begun to taste what he may desire more sweetly. And now Moses does not deign to serve for the Ethiopian woman; and although he does not cast her off afterward when she follows, yet he does not receive her into love. For, made a lover of wisdom, he ought so to have admitted the care of the flesh as not to subject himself by affection to it when it wantoned shamelessly, but yet to condescend by compassion to it when it was weak and compliant. For it is one thing to love for joy, another to endure for use. It is one thing to receive into the fellowship of love, and another to endure in the part of compassion. The life of the flesh is to be borne in necessity; wisdom 176Bis to be joined to us in love. That one is to be sought after for her own sake; this one is to be fled for its own sake to be endured for our sake. Therefore Moses after the vision does not serve in Midian the father of the Ethiopian woman, nor does she any more bear sons, as one driven back from the bed, where the place of love and of affection is; and another fairer and more lovable having been received, from whose fellowship the face of Moses would be made not dark but luminous, whose love was shown in that fire, when the bush was burning and was not burned up. But Moses ran that he might pass over and contemplate the vision, because he had not yet conceived the fire of wisdom nor felt its sweetness. Therefore he wondered, and by that very wonder was drawn, so that drawing near he might grow warm and burn. And the fire itself, which enlightened him while absent, kindled him as he drew near. Therefore, drawing near, 176Che loosed his shoe, gladly renouncing now the carnal desires, the sweetness of that love having been tasted and its pleasantness recognized. For what could the concupiscence of the flesh have availed, compared with the love of wisdom? Therefore Moses hastened to run and to see the vision, and to pass over to contemplate wisdom. And it has been made manifest how he passed over, and how he arrived at contemplating wisdom. How much he saw in her, and how much he came to know of him, and how he was made a friend of wisdom, penetrating even into her depths and privy to her secrets. And how many are there from the beginning who wished thus to pass over to contemplate wisdom? First Abraham, that great father, went out from the fire of the Chaldeans, and passed over to contemplate 176Dwisdom, and came into the land of vision which God showed him, and saw the brightness of wisdom and rejoiced. And Isaac had gone out to meditate, and passed over to contemplate wisdom; and God spoke with him. Jacob too, going on to contemplate wisdom, passed over as he came from Mesopotamia, and saw the Lord face to face, and his soul was made safe (Gen. XXXII). After these, all the patriarchs and all the prophets passed over, and all wished to contemplate wisdom. And last of all wisdom herself came, and passed over, and her friends contemplated her; since she had come for this, that she might be seen, lest she should be sought in vain if she were never seen; and she said to those who had passed over, that they might contemplate 177Aher. Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. Many kings and many prophets have wished to see what you see, and have not seen; and to hear what you hear, and have not heard (Matth. XIII). This she said, and passed over, that after her those might pass over who desired to contemplate her, lest perchance she should now not be sought, if she were always seen. And many others followed after her, and very many passed through, and wisdom was made manifold. And many wished to pass over and could not arrive, because they did not hold the way. Others passed over and arrived. Others wished to pass over and could not pass through, because they thought to go by themselves. For the philosophers of the nations also, they too wished to pass over to contemplate wisdom, but they went astray and became vain, because they thought to lead 177Bthemselves. And yet they had begun to pass over, and had arrived as far as something, and came up to the way; but they did not enter the way, because they did not believe in Christ. Do you wish to know how far they had come? They were on earth in body, and they ascended in mind and passed over all earthly things, searching out the heavenly. Even to the moon and even to the sun, even to the stars of heaven, finally even to heaven itself and even to the firmament itself they ascended by their own wit, and arrived by their understanding. And what was there beyond, whither they could have gone? But wisdom is above all things, nor can she be found within all things, she through whom all things were made. He is none of these things, from whom is everything that is. But where could they have found that? It was not seen, and yet it was sought; nor could it lie hid so as not to speak, 177Cnor be searched out so as to be found. Wisdom was within, and they were without; and they entered in mind after her, that they might pass over to contemplate wisdom. And they investigated and searched through wisely, and comprehended the secrets of nature, and found many hidden things; and none of these was wisdom, because all this was made through wisdom. Above all things, whither they ascended; within all things, whither they entered; and there was nothing beyond where they could have sought wisdom. And they fell and failed, searching out searchings; and it seemed to them that there was something divine above all things, and yet they did not know it nor understand it; but seeing, they grew the more dim, because with weak eyes they struck against a splendid light. And they began to reckon many false things concerning the true, and to liken God 177Dby their own perverse heart, not to what he was, but to what seemed to them, who could not see what he was. But they reckoned that they saw well, and became vain in their own thoughts; and they were the worse blinded, and were found to wander the more deeply the more subtly they searched. But others thought that wisdom was to be sought more subtly by morals; and very many became despisers of their own goods, but not correctors of their own vices. And these too arrived as far as something, because they had the appearance of truth, but did not hold the truth. They cast away money, but retained malice. What was without they cleansed, and what was within they kept polluted. But this was not wisdom, because it was not truth, 178Abut a false image alone. But they thought that they were walking along the road of the virtues; yet whither they were tending they did not know, because they did not know their own direction and end. And there were yet others who had certain virtues and were borne into them by a natural leading; and they passed over and arrived as far as something; and from a certain part of nature, by which she did not lie wholly subject to corruption, they saw the good and desired it. And it was given them to be capable of much in the pursuit of the virtues, and with an upright disposition inclined to goodness. Who does not know this — how many men of virtues they too had, and how great things, wonderful and worthy of imitation, they did: pursuing justice, cultivating piety, keeping chastity, confirmed in patience, steadfast in fidelity, circumspect in prudence — and what shall we say? Were not all these things 178Bgood? They were indeed, but of nature, not of grace; of creation, not of restoration: goods which nature had kept, lest she should be wholly corrupted; not goods which grace had given, that nature might be freed from corruption. Goods which grace had indeed given to nature when she was first created, and afterward had left to her when she was corrupted; but had not added over and above to her when she was to be purged from corruption. Goods by which the beauty of a nature well created might be proved; not by which the loftiness of a nature to be glorified might be acquired. All these, therefore, were goods for their own part, but they were not true goods, because they did not direct the mind by intention to the highest good. And by all these wisdom was not found, because she was not sought in truth; and she drew near neither to those, that she might enlighten their eyes to the truth, nor 178Cto these, that she might direct their steps to virtue. And therefore neither could the blind find her, nor the lame arrive at her. But let this our Hebrew say what he has done, and how much he has profited by his passing over; since he too testifies that he passes over with the rest to contemplate wisdom, saying: I passed over to contemplate wisdom. This, therefore, is what you ought to consider. For he who passes over to wisdom leaves folly behind. And what is it that follows?

Errors also, and folly. If he passes over to wisdom who passes over to contemplate wisdom, how does he withdraw from folly, or leave error behind, who passes over to contemplate errors and folly? But wisdom is light; error, however, and folly are darkness. And he who is in darkness sees neither the darkness 178Dnor the light. But he who is in the light sees both the darkness and the light, because all things that are reproved are reproved by the light. Since therefore he cannot see his own darkness, because he himself is still in darkness, but comes from the darkness to the light, that he may see through the light both the darkness and the light — not the darkness through darkness and the light through light, but darkness and light through the light alone. No one goes to darkness that he may see darkness, but comes to the light that he may see through the light not only light, but both darkness and light. He, therefore, who wishes to see his own darkness withdraws from it, lest he himself be in darkness and see nothing; and he passes over to the light, that through the light he may see darkness and light alike. Rightly therefore Ecclesiastes, when he passes 179Aover to contemplate wisdom, comes to her — about to contemplate errors and folly also — as to a light, that in her he may see both the darkness and the light. That is, that in her he may see also that she is wisdom; and that through her he may see errors and folly, which is not wisdom. For he who sees wisdom sees that she is wisdom; and he who sees errors and folly sees that this is not wisdom; and yet he can see wisdom, and can see errors and folly, only through her — and she is wisdom. He, therefore, who passes over to contemplate errors and to contemplate folly passes over to wisdom, just as he who passes over to contemplate wisdom passes over to wisdom. Yet the one — that is, errors and folly — he contemplates in order to flee it; but to the other, that 179Bis, to wisdom, he draws near in order to contemplate her; because neither of the two is wisdom, but to contemplate both is wisdom; and he who passes over to contemplate both passes over to nothing other than wisdom, nor does he leave behind anything other than errors and folly. Let him say, therefore: He passed over to contemplate wisdom, and errors and folly. What is error: not to know what is right. What is folly? To know and not to follow. What is wisdom? To know cognocere and to love the good. But to know evil and to hate it — this too is wisdom, and the first wisdom; because to have hated evil is to have loved the good, and to have known evil is to have understood the right. Wherefore to know and to love the good is wisdom, and this same is to hate and to have known evil. And all this is known in wisdom, 179Cwhen wisdom is seen, and what she is, that it may be loved; and what she is not, but is made manifest through her, that it may be hated. O how good this passing over is, and how happily he removes who removes to contemplate wisdom! What wonder is it if the God of the Hebrews is the Lord God, who makes such passers-over, and makes them pass over to such things? Pass over to me, says Wisdom, all you who desire me, and be filled with my generations. For my spirit is sweet above honey, and my inheritance above honey and the honeycomb. They that eat me shall yet hunger, and they that drink me shall yet thirst; they that make me clear shall have eternal life (Eccli. XXIV). Since I give light of doctrine to all as it were before the dawn; and I will enlighten all 179Dwho hope in the Lord. For do you wish to know how wisdom enlightens those who have passed over to contemplate her? Question this very man, who passed over to contemplate wisdom; and consider how he has been enlightened from the time that he began to see her. For how blind he was before he had passed over to contemplate her, you have heard sufficiently above, when he thought to go where there was no way for man: to seek out and to investigate all things that were under the sun; and believed it to be something great to investigate the nature of those things which stand outside the nature of man — things which, even if they be known, so far as lies in them, cannot confer salvation, nor, if they be unknown, take it away. There, therefore, he was blind, in not seeing nor knowing in himself what he could, nor desiring for himself what he ought. But 180Anow, enlightened by wisdom, attend to what he says.

What is man, I say? What is he, I say? I do not ask what he is as though admiring his dignity, but as knowing his infirmity. What is man? Man is nothing. Man is not anything such that he may be found sufficient for this. For what?

That he may be able to follow the king, his maker. For if he cannot attain the thing made, much more can he not follow the maker. If he cannot investigate what has been made, how can he comprehend him who made it? What is man, that he may be able to follow the king, his maker? His king and his maker. The very same who is king is maker. He is maker because he created; king, because he governs in that which he created, and directs it 180Bto that for which he created it. For he created in a great good, and directs to the highest good. Who is he that follows his maker? He who lives as he was made. Who walks according to that for which he was instituted? He who keeps the good which he received when created, and guards unpolluted what nature conferred. This man follows his maker. And who is he that follows his king also? He who tends toward that to which he is directed; who hastens to arrive whither he is invited; who obeys the laws of one who presides well; who at the command of him who orders bends himself to all things with a spontaneous will. This man follows his king. But who is the man who can answer God? Who will be found sufficient to render a return to God? If he himself goes before, and so that you may follow: then one thing is his, another yours. Nay, if he himself begins the good and you complete it, what is less 180Cis his, and what is greater is yours. If God goes before by beginning the good, and you follow after by perfecting it, you are now found not only equal to God, but greater. But perhaps he goes before by showing, so that you may follow by imitating. And where then is what is said: His mercy shall go before me and shall follow after? (Psal. LVIII.) Where is: Of him, and through him, and in him are all things? (Rom. XI.) Where is: What hast thou that thou hast not received? And if thou hast received, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received? (II Cor. IV.) For if to show is his and to follow is yours, then you have something which you have not received; nor are all things of him and through him and in him, but certain things are man's which are not of him, if a man can of himself do some things which are not 180Dthrough him. But wisdom does not enlighten for this, that a man should think thus; or that he should say that a man can have anything as it were from himself, who could not have even this from himself, that he is a man. What, then, does he say? What is man, that he may be able to follow the king, his maker? For how far do you think man is from God, that he should reach where he is? For what is it to reach where he is, unless it be to be what he is? And what is God? Or what is man? See how far apart they are. God is just and blessed; man unjust and wretched. See how greatly the just and the unjust, the wretched and the blessed, stand apart. But misery cannot be together with blessedness, nor can injustice arrive at blessedness. Justice is the way, blessedness the fatherland. But the servant of sin cannot be just, unless he has been freed from sin. See 181Atherefore that man cannot follow the king, his maker, unless he be first visited by the king, his maker. Man cannot go to him; but he can, if he will, come to man. Therefore the king and maker of man came to man. He came to that which man was, and he himself was made what he was not. He was made man for man, taking on our misery, retaining his own justice. And there appeared between God and men, as the mediator of God and men, the man God: as God drawing near to men through misery, and as man not withdrawing from God through justice. Thus God descended to one, and man ascended to one; and in the one, two were found, the one from what is ours, the other from what is his: for there were, as it were, three things. God was just and blessed, and man was wretched and unjust; and because these could not come together, 181Bthe man God set himself in the midst, joining the wretched and the just, that through justice he might conquer misery, and might restore justice to blessedness. Therefore, when Emmanuel was with us through the justice which he had brought to us, and through the misery which he had taken up from us, he began to return whence he had come. That in man he might conquer misery through justice, and might call man back, with justice, through misery to blessedness. He held justice, therefore, and endured misery, until he should conquer misery and crown justice. And he ran, and went before us. Suffering for us, and leaving us an example, that we may follow his steps (I Petr. II). Freeing us from the servitude of sin, that we too may have justice in misery, 181Cand through misery, with justice, may pass over to blessedness. Promising us what he received, if we suffer what he endured; that we may reign with him, if we suffer for him. Thus, therefore, the incarnate Word, our maker and king, because we could not follow him in his own majesty, went before us in our humility, and out of what is ours established a way, that we might come to what is his. But not even so could man follow him, unless he were helped by him; because not even a just man would run through death to life, unless he who gave justice to the sinner should also give constancy to him who suffers. Rightly therefore he who had contemplated wisdom, and had recognized how utterly nothing man is by himself, said: What is man, that he should follow the king, his maker? For truly this man had passed over to contemplate wisdom, and 181Dtruly had been enlightened by wisdom: much more now, in being wise, truly recognizing the infirmity of man, than before, vainly stretching himself beyond the possibility of man. For there he was lifted up so as to fail; here he was humbled so as to advance. There he swelled outside himself through elation, so as to be emptied within himself; here through humility he gathered himself to himself, that he might be given to the One alone. And wisdom did all this after he had contemplated her, showing him in her own light first his darkness, and afterward her own light also — and the whole in her light and through her light. And the darkness was not light, nor was there darkness in the light; but through the light the darkness was seen, and was divided from the light. And he says:

And I saw that wisdom excelled folly as much as light differs from darkness. How was this seen? 182ABecause wisdom enlightens, folly blinds. And whence can this be proved, that wisdom enlightens and folly blinds? Attend:

The eyes of a wise man are in his head; the fool walketh in darkness. Just now it has been proved that wisdom enlightens, folly blinds. In what has it been proved? Because the wise man has enlightened eyes, the fool sees nothing. For if the wise man has enlightened eyes, then wisdom enlightens. And if sit the fool sees nothing, then folly blinds. For wisdom is light, and enlightens. If you have eyes where she reaches; but if you have eyes where the light is not, you have eyes, but see nothing. And what does this profit? Let your eyes therefore be where the light is, lest you be made as one not having eyes, if you have not the light. But where is the light? Above is 182Bthe light, where wisdom is. For wisdom is above, and light is above, and all light comes from above. And as below there is darkness without light, so above there is light without darkness. But in the middle, after light there is darkness, and after darkness light. Therefore there are days of heaven which darkness does not divide, nor does obscurity break in upon them. And there are days of earth upon which darkness follows. Because where wisdom always is, there is always light; and where wisdom is not always, there is as much light as there is wisdom. And where wisdom never is, there is never light. Therefore there is light where wisdom reaches, and where wisdom does not reach, there is no light. And where does wisdom not reach, if she reaches from end to end — what is left outside, where she cannot 182Creach, she who penetrates the whole and embraces the whole? I alone have compassed the circuit of heaven, and have penetrated the depth of the abyss, and have walked in the waves of the sea (Eccli. XXIV): reaching from end to end mightily, and ordering all things sweetly (Sap. VIII). It is a great question, therefore, what that may be where wisdom does not reach. Where the eyes of fools are, who walk in darkness and do not see. Let us therefore question another Scripture, where the eyes of fools are, who walk in darkness and do not see. For it says: The eyes of a wise man are in his head; but the eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth. Therefore in the ends of the earth there is darkness, and for that reason the fools who walk in darkness do not see, because they have their eyes in the ends of the earth. For if the light is there where he has his eyes, fools do not walk in darkness, but 182Dhave enlightened eyes and see. But if the fool walketh in darkness, and the eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth, then beyond doubt there is darkness there, where the eyes cannot see. And where is this? In the ends of the earth. Therefore the darkness is far off, and the light is near. Why then do we find darkness more easily than light? Perhaps because we are not far from the ends of the earth, and dwell beside the people of darkness, nor have we yet gone from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon (III Reg. X), where the light is: therefore we strike against the darkness and are dimmed away from the light. Yet the light itself is near and presses itself upon us; but bleary eyes love the dark, and have turned themselves into darkness. Therefore the light is near, but we are far off; and the darkness is far off, and we draw near to it.

• 183A

Yet where is the darkness, and where is the light? And which is the end? And the end where wisdom reaches. And which are the ends of the earth, where the eyes of fools are, who walk in darkness and do not see. And what is the head of the wise man, where his eyes are, who does not walk in darkness like the fool, but has enlightened eyes? Lest, therefore, we too perchance remain in darkness, let us seek out the light of wisdom, that we may understand where wisdom herself abides, and the division of light and darkness. Where light and darkness are bounded, and the limit of each. How far wisdom herself reaches, and what she is, and what is 183Boutside her, and what is without her. First, because we have heard of two ends — the one from which and the other to which Wisdom extends herself, reaching from end to end mightily, and ordering all things sweetly (Sap. VIII). And we have not yet come to know which these two ends are, and where they are, and whether these ends have an end, and whether beyond them there is anything else where wisdom does not reach. And if there is, how are they ends which do not arrive at an end? But if there is not, how are the ends of the earth, where the darkness is, contained within these ends, and how can there be darkness in the light, since Wisdom reaches from end to end mightily and orders all things sweetly. First, therefore, there are two ends of all things. The one is an end above which is nothing, and the other one below which is nothing. The end above which is nothing is the highest 183Cof all. The end below which is nothing, the lowest. And so there are two ends of all things, the highest and the lowest. And whatever is in the universe besides the highest and the lowest is a middle between the highest and the lowest. And each single thing, the more it departs from the one, so much the more does it approach the other, whether from the highest to the lowest or from the lowest to the highest. Do you wish to know whether Scripture perchance somewhere mentions these ends more manifestly? If I shall ascend, says the Psalmist, into heaven, thou art there; if I shall descend into hell, thou art present (Psal. CXXXVIII). Therefore he has established heaven and hell as the two ends of his own course. But nothing is higher than heaven, and nothing deeper than hell. And so heaven is the highest of all, hell the lowest — above 183Dwhich is nothing and below which is nothing — and Wisdom reaches from end to end, and fills the whole and penetrates it. If I ascend into heaven, he says, thou art there; if I shall descend into hell, thou art present. He did not say, In heaven thou art present. Nor, In hell thou art there. But, if I shall ascend into heaven, thou art there; if I shall descend into hell, thou art present. Therefore in heaven he is, in hell he is present; abiding in heaven, coming into hell; in heaven he awaits those who come, in hell he follows those who flee. Those who ascend into heaven find him there; those who descend into hell do not escape him there. If I shall ascend into heaven, he says, thou art there; if I shall descend into hell, thou art present. And yet in both places thou art — both where thou art and where thou art present — reaching from end to end. From the end where thou art, to the end where thou art present, mightily, and ordering all things sweetly. Behold, 184Awe have now distinguished the two ends to which wisdom reaches, the highest and the lowest, of which the one is as it were the place of wisdom where she abides, but the other is like a certain running-out and, so to speak, the goal of the stretching by which she extends herself. That end from which wisdom goes forth is the head, before which is nothing. But the end into which she runs out is the end beyond which is nothing. That end is both head and end. This end is not head, but only end. That end is head, because from it, and not above it; it is end, because up to it, and not beyond. But the other end is not head, because from it is nothing; yet it is an end, because whatever there is, is up to it, not beyond it. That end, therefore, which is above, is as it were a beginning and origin, above which is nothing. But the end which is below is as it were a goal and limit beyond which is nothing. For the origin and beginning 184Bof all things is from the highest; but the limit and end is in the lowest. Wherefore the end below is an end, and only an end. But the end above is not only an end, but both head and end. If, therefore, heaven is above and hell below, and nothing higher than heaven and nothing deeper than hell can be found: heaven is the beginning, and hell the end. O how good a beginning, and how evil an end.

Therefore perhaps the eyes of the wise man are in his head, because, set in the middle, he looks back to his own beginning, that he may make his end there where he received his origin. For it is not good to be ended in the other end, where the end is one of consuming, not of consummation. Therefore man, who was created for eternity, alone among all animals has an upright countenance, that he may contemplate heaven 184Cand may tend toward the end of consummation; and that he may reckon that not only is this visible heaven to be looked up to with bodily eyes, but that also with the mind and with the vision of the heart, lifting the inner eyes with a clearer and more piercing gaze above heaven even to the invisible things of heaven and the spiritual things of the virtues, he may climb up by contemplation, in the light of eternity, even to the end which has no end. That is the true heaven above every heaven, which is not only the heaven of heaven, but the heaven of heavens. Not second to the first, but third to the first and to the second. On this account Paul glories that he was caught up even to the third heaven (II Cor. XII), who had come in mind to the highest of all; and he had passed over not only the visible heaven, which human thought too can surpass, 184Dbut, having passed over also all those invisible things which were created above all this visible whole, he had been lifted up to behold the first beginning and the head of eternity. This is the third heaven. For the first heaven is the visible heaven. The second heaven is the invisible heaven of the visible heaven. The third heaven is the invisible heaven of the visible heaven and of the invisible heaven. The first heaven is only heaven, and the heaven of the earth. The second heaven, the heaven of heaven. The third heaven, the heaven of heavens. And this heaven has no heaven above itself. The first heaven is the supreme state of creation. The second heaven is the advancement of virtue above creation. The third heaven is the sublimity of contemplation. The first hell is the lowest state of creation. The second hell is 185Athe failing of iniquity below creation. The third hell is the depth of damnation. The first heaven and the first hell, end and end. The second heaven and the second hell, end and end. The third heaven and the third hell, end and end. And everywhere Wisdom: She reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly. From the first heaven to the first hell is the first course of wisdom. For beginning from the highest downward, and descending from the topmost even to the bottom of things, she accompanies and cherishes all things which she has wrought, so that the things which have been made and created by her may not subsist without her. But from the topmost even to the lowest, among all the things that subsist, each single thing, the more it degenerates from the perfect beauty and consummate comeliness of the highest things, 185Bso much the more, as if fleeing, does it in a certain manner go far off from wisdom. But Wisdom herself follows the flight of things from end to end; because, deserting nothing wholly among all the things which she made, and tempering each single thing from the highest to the lowest with a comeliness proper and fitting to its own kind, she testifies that she is present to these also. For she herself, the very same who disposed the most excellent of creatures in a highest and supereminent beauty, fitting the lower things also in due sequence and following them up with her disposition, leaves nothing disordered even to the bottom of things. And so Wisdom reaches to the end, even to those things which in all things are lowest; because in these too something of her is found, which through the infirmity of their creation and the defect of their nature have withdrawn far from the highest. But yet 185CWisdom herself abides in the highest things as it were by remaining, but reaches the lowest as it were by running out; because those things, subsisting unchangeably in their own perfect comeliness, nowhere flow away from her likeness. But these, fleeing through defect, yet by that very thing which they retain of beauty in their own kind, show that wisdom is present to them also. Wisdom therefore reaches everywhere, because in everything that is there is something beautiful, and everything that is beautiful is the work of wisdom. But what, in that which is, is not beautiful, is not the work of Wisdom; because what is beautiful in everything that is, she herself made; but what is not beautiful, she did not make, but permitted in that which she made beautiful. Why then did she not make the whole beautiful in that which she made; and why did she not bring it about that what is not beautiful 185Dshould nowhere be in that which she made? Perhaps she had been wearied in making those former things, in which she had wrought a certain highest and perfect beauty. And therefore she pursued the rest afterward as she could, bringing it about indeed that the whole should be beautiful which she made in them, but not bringing it about that what is not beautiful should not be in them — which she did not make, but permitted; because she could not bring it about that it should not be at all. And so thereafter, descending to one thing after another and making one thing after another, she conferred always so much the less of beauty and comeliness upon the later of her works, as she the more, in making the former, consumed the strength of her might, by which she could do more, and the force and ingenuity of her prudence, by which she might know more. Therefore the order 186Aof things degenerated downward, descending to the lowest. And unless wisdom had looked out for herself, so as at last to set in these an end of making, there was perhaps nothing further of beauty which she could have conferred on the things to be made.

What do we say? Was the wisdom of God, then, diminished in the making? and did it pursue its work feebly to the end? And where is that which reaches from end to end mightily? If Wisdom mightily reaches from end to end, then the difference of beauty in the creation is not from a failing in the maker. Why then are not all things equally beautiful, unless it be that all things together may be more beautiful? For if individual things were not beautiful in differing degrees, all things together would not be incomparably beautiful; because the highest beauty would be in individual things — whatever one there were would be surpassing that one, and more eminent than all the rest — 186Bnot every beauty would be in all things together. Therefore Wisdom mightily reaches from end to end; because she so pursues her works down to the very bottom of things that she even orders the defect of lower things toward the beauty of the whole, so that the universe is the more beautiful for this, that in the universe certain things suffer defect by comparison with others and in respect of them. For this very thing, which in certain of her beautiful works seems not beautiful, is nevertheless not ugly where it is; but it has less of beauty in the part, because in the whole it is beautiful for that to which it is ordered. Therefore in no part is there ugliness, but nevertheless in certain parts there is greater and in certain parts lesser beauty; because the beauty in the whole of the parts is greatest 186Cfor this reason, that in the parts it is differing, and manifoldly varied and distinguished in every way. Then follows, and he says: Ordering all things sweetly. For she orders all things sweetly, because in kinds of things so many and so diverse, advancing each single one promonens to its own term, she permits nothing to disturb the concord and peace of the universe; but she so assigns to each what is its own that she leads things running unlike to one end, and so that the working of one does not hinder the force and effect of another. O Wisdom, how widely thou art poured out, and yet thou art not scattered! How far into the distance thou stretchest thyself, and sufferest no failing! How great is thy course, from the highest even to the lowest! By as much as heaven is distant from earth, and hell 186Dbeneath the earth where the end of the earth is, and beyond there is no earth; by as much as the highest is distant from the lowest, so much does Wisdom penetrate through. And yet this way of Wisdom is short, and her stretching-forth is compendious, and she counts all that is a small thing for her to pass over and to lay hold of and to penetrate; nor is anything far off that is stretched out in space, if it be near in goodness. But iniquity is far more distant from justice, and farther than the two, heaven from earth, and hell beneath the earth. For justice is higher than heaven, and not only than heaven, but even than those who are in heaven. The angels are in heaven, and from the beginning they are in heaven; and from thence they ascended, through justice, above that which they had been made. And justice is higher than heaven, iniquity deeper than hell. For it is deeper than everything that is lowest in creation, because that which has fallen through iniquity 187Ais beneath every creature; nor can anything be deeper than that than which nothing is worse. By as much, therefore, as he ascends who ascends into heaven, by so much does he ascend who advances toward justice. And by as much as he descends who descends to hell, by so much does he descend who falls to iniquity. And by as much as he ascends who ascends from hell to heaven, by so much does he ascend who returns from iniquity to justice. But by as much as he descends who descends from heaven to hell, by so much does he descend who rushes down from justice to iniquity.

And in all these things they ascend even to the heavens, and they descend even to the depths, and their soul amid evils wastes away (Psal. CVI). Therefore heaven belongs to justice, and hell to iniquity; and the motions of souls are snatched along 187Bby an alternating surge without ceasing, as though driven by contrary blasts, ascending and descending; and there come to be liftings up, and pressings down, and great commotions in that invisible sea of billowing desires. The good spirit comes, and drives upward. The evil spirit comes, and drives downward: and they ascend even to the heavens, and they descend even from the depths, their soul wasting away in the uncertainty of its own evils. And what does he say? If I shall ascend into heaven, thou art there; if I shall descend to hell, thou art at hand. For if you ascend into the heaven of justice, you have there with you wisdom holding you fast lest you fall; but if you descend to the hell of guilt, wisdom is there laying hold of you lest you escape. Above she has her right hand, and below 187Cher left, reaching from end to end mightily, and ordering all things sweetly. Above she is strong, below she is strong, everywhere unconquerable. Above she is strong, so as to keep from evil those who trust in her, and to cast headlong into evil, by forsaking them, those who presume upon themselves. Below she is strong, so as to condemn for evil those who despise, and to justify from evil those who repent. Behold how many she has kept safe at the summit, how many she has cast down from the summit, how many she has raised from the depth, how many she has forsaken in the depth. Manifest are her judgments: and he who knows himself knows how Wisdom works all these things daily in the secret of the human heart, always presiding at judgment: and by hidden requital and invisible dispensation, weighing merits, now she takes up through grace, now she forsakes through justice, now through gentleness 187Dshe spares, now through severity she punishes. And when she has forsaken she takes up again, and when she has taken up she again abandons, that a man may not know his own end, and may walk anxiously all the time of his life, so that those who lie prostrate may not despair, and those who stand may not presume. If they are in the heaven of justice, let them fear a fall. If in the hell of guilt, let them seek mercy. Therefore justice herself first descended to hell; afterward she ascended to heaven, that in descending she might give hope to those to be set free, and in ascending might show the way to those to be glorified. Wisdom, then, reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly. For she comprehends the end of both — of the good, namely, which is in her; and equally of the evil, which is not in her. But in that which is from her it flows away from her, yet not altogether without 188Aher, because what nature does not beget out of her own, she restrains by power within her own. For evil has no proper seat of its own, but by nature a stranger to what is its own, it lodges in what belongs to another, so that it is plain that it is not in its own; because if there were not good things in which evils were, evils would not be at all. For since evil is nothing other than the corruption of a good, and everything that is corrupted is good, that from which it falls away is one thing, that in which it subsists another. And that in which it subsists is good; but that which falls away, from which it falls away from the good, is evil: a falling-away from good can be nowhere else at all except in that which subsists in some good. Therefore if there were no good, there would be no evil at all; because there would be nowhere that malice could be, if Wisdom, which did not make it, did not suffer it within her own. For Wisdom did not make 188Bmalice; but in that which she made she permitted malice to be, so that Wisdom, set against malice, might conquer, and being compared might appear the more beautiful. For Wisdom sets herself against malice and measures herself with it in her works, and conquers it on both sides, so that she may reach from end to end; because malice, running toward defect, does not escape Wisdom, but Wisdom, rising toward advancement, transcends malice. For malice running toward defect does not escape Wisdom for this reason, that malice cannot find what it may corrupt except in those things which Wisdom created. But Wisdom, rising toward advancement, transcends malice for this reason: that malice cannot corrupt the whole of what Wisdom was able to create. So that malice may be compared, then, nothing can be brought through malice 188Cto non-being which has not received being from Wisdom; but that malice may be overcome, malice does not corrupt the whole of what has been made by wisdom.

Wisdom runs, therefore, that she may reach from end to end, transcending malice in the incorrupt goods, whither malice does not come; and following after malice in those things which have been corrupted, whither malice does not go before her. For malice cannot go before Wisdom, so as to be found either prior, before her rising, or posterior, after her failing; because that also is found prior to corruption which at some time admitted corruption, and posterior to corruption that which could not be wholly corrupted, and above corruption that to which corruption did not come. And for this reason Wisdom conquers malice, and goes before folly; because she reaches from end even to 188Dend, that is, from the rising of every good, that she may transcend malice, beyond the failing of a certain good, that she may shut malice in. For in that in which every good at some time stood without corruption, Wisdom is acknowledged as prior. But in that good also which is corrupted, in which after the corruption something of good remains over which cannot be corrupted at all, Wisdom is found posterior. Wisdom therefore conquers malice; because she reaches from the end in which every good received its beginning, even to the end in which even a corrupted good, after the failing of the good, subsists in some good. And she reaches from end to end mightily, so as to hold malice itself within measure by her power, and to restrain it to order by her reason, lest either corruption, destroying the whole, stretch itself unto the end, or confusion, deforming the whole, 189Apour itself out to the uttermost parts. For this reason, therefore, she reaches mightily everywhere, subjecting malice to her dominion: and whatever of corruption malice brings in toward confusion, this Wisdom, by a wondrous law and a secret disposition, turns to the beauty of her own works, bringing it about out of what is not beautiful, that what is beautiful becomes most beautiful, and that what stands as good in itself rises up, out of that which is not good, into the consummation of goodness. She reaches, then, from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly. Nothing is excepted from her sweetness. She orders all things sweetly. What things all? Crooked and straight, good and evil, the subject and the adverse — she orders all things sweetly: not only good things, but evil ones too; not only straight things, but crooked ones too; not only subject things, but adverse ones too. She orders all things 189Bsweetly. How sweetly? Do you wish to know how sweetly she orders all things? Without violence she subjects adverse things; without tumult she sets crooked things straight, and in her most peaceable kingdom, which justice holds within, she makes even evils and the motions of the vices that oppose her to serve, without compulsion, by a secret order and a most wise disposition. For she orders all things, even things not sweet, so sweetly that all the things which raise themselves against her will she neither powerfully extinguishes, so that they are nothing, nor violently compels, so that they can do nothing; but, allowing them to be and granting them to be able, she manifestly permits things running against her will, and secretly leads them to the fulfilling of her will. And when the wicked will those things against her, they will them without her; but when they can do what they will, they can do it from her. And when they do 189Cwhat they can, they think indeed and wish to do what she does not will; and yet they do not do otherwise, nor are they able to do otherwise, than what she wills. For they are manifestly permitted and secretly led, that they may be sweetly ordered; and Wisdom reaches even to them mightily, so as to restrain them to her own disposition; and she orders sweetly, so as not to compel them against their own will. But even if at times she outwardly applies violence to crooked wills to be applied to, or to be chastised; nevertheless she never forsakes the sweetness of her disposition; because, remaining tranquil in herself, from that very source whence she disturbs the ill-quiet peace of those who oppose her, she thence composes the kingdom of her justice the more solidly unto peace. For this reason, therefore, she reaches from end even to 189Dend mightily, and orders all things sweetly.

There remains now that greatest and highest course of Wisdom, from end to end: which ends have no end. Above, the sublimity of contemplation, and below, the depth of damnation. For these ends have no other ends beyond them by which they themselves might be bounded; but all things reach as far as these, which were made for these, and beyond them nothing. To these two ends wisdom, beginning from the middle, ordering on this side and on that, whether by advancing promovende or by forsaking, leads the course of all things; strewing justice as a way for those ascending above; leaving iniquity as a way for those descending below, so that through justice one may go to blessedness ab beatitudinem, but through iniquity and injustice one may come to damnation. And when it has come thither, she will set all things in their own ends; 190Aand the ends themselves will never have an end. And then too Wisdom herself will reach from end to end mightily, so that never more will she either fail in the requital of the just, or desist from the punishment of the iniquitous: ordering all things sweetly, on this side to joy, on that to eternal torment. But, I ask, what sweetness will there be in the regions below? what sweetness will there be able to be in eternal torments, that it should be said, ordering all things sweetly? Is it sweetly for this reason, that she who orders remains sweet herself, although those whom she orders are not sweet, nor is that sweet in which she orders? Yet how does she order sweetly? Is it sweetly for this reason that she orders, because the ordering itself is sweet, even if those things are not sweet which she orders: and, just as she orders evils not evilly but well, so she orders unsweet and bitter things sweetly? 190BFor therefore evils exist, and good things have been permitted by the Omnipotent to be evils, not that evils may become gifts; but that out of evils good may come to be, and that the good things themselves may shine out more beautifully by comparison with evils; not that good things may be increased by evils joined to them, but that they may be commended by things compared with them. But who is wise, that he may understand these things — what evils do in the kingdom of the good: and yet, if they did nothing in the kingdom of wisdom, they would not be evils at all? Therefore some do evils on account of which they have been permitted to be: and both they themselves and evils do good, and evils themselves do not make good, but he makes good out of the evils themselves: he who knows how to use both good things and evil for good. And this is Wisdom, which reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly.

• 190C

We have perhaps lingered longer over the discussion of these matters than the brevity of a treatise would require; but not fully so long as the difficulty of the subject would demand. Now therefore, since we have found an end, and an end, concerning which Scripture spoke when it said that Wisdom reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly; and since it was our purpose to seek these ends on account of the ends of the earth, where the eyes of fools are, who walk in darkness, lest perchance Wisdom, who reaches from end to end, should reach to the ends 190Dof the earth, and the light shine in the darkness in the ends of the earth, if Wisdom reaches to the ends of the earth, she who reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly. Since therefore we have found these ends. If nevertheless the things we have said about these ends are able worthily to fit their own truth to the interpretation of Scripture, and there be no other more excellent interpretation to which this one should by right give place, it now remains to inquire what these ends of the earth are that have been mentioned, and where they are; and also what that earth itself is, and where it is, in whose ends are the eyes of fools, who do not look back to their own head that they may see, and not walk in darkness. First, then, let us ask what this earth is, and where this earth is. Now we know that in this world there is earth and there is heaven, 191Aand between earth and heaven is whatever is in this world. For in the body of this world heaven is highest and earth lowest; and just as above heaven there is nothing of this kind which is not in heaven itself, so beneath the earth there is nothing, save perhaps what is in the earth. And if we say of this earth that the eyes of fools are in its ends, how this will not be able to stand. For we proclaim eyes keen-sighted rather than blind, which we assert are stretched out by their own vision even to the ends of the earth. Which of the just men has been able to do this, to survey the compass of the earth with his eyes, and to run through in a single seeing such far-off spaces as could scarcely be traversed by the labor of many years? It is ridiculous even to think this, that Scripture said it of bodily vision. Of this visible earth: The eyes of fools 191Bare in the ends of the earth, unless perhaps someone believe that in these words this is signified: that all fools and lovers of the carnal life, who with the whole intention of the mind always go about after earthly goods a terrena bona, run about in pursuit and search of them even to foreign nations, and often even to the uttermost bounds of the lands: and that they are therefore said to have their eyes there, because by thought and desire they always strain thither. But the wise man, who has raised his mind to the things that are above and directs his intention thither, he himself may have his eyes in his own head, in that he strains toward the attaining of that which is highest of all and chief. This could, so far as pertains to the truth of the interpretation, be brought in suitably enough, if Wisdom did not call us to a higher understanding, and to another earth, and to other ends, and to other eyes 191Cto be thought of. For if the head of the wise man is rightly understood spiritually, it is necessary that we interpret the earth also and its ends mystically and not bodily, on account of the eyes of fools. As, therefore, this visible world has its own earth and its own heaven, so man has his own earth and his own heaven. For man himself also is a world, and man has been called the lesser world. His earth is his flesh, and his heaven is his soul. But in this greater world the earth is within the heaven; in the lesser world, however, the heaven is within the earth. And yet the heaven of the lesser world is greater than the heaven of the greater world. But what is its earth compared to the earth of that other? How small it is? and yet its heaven is within its earth. What is heaven within 191Dearth? The soul within the body. The soul is heaven, the body is earth. The soul within the body; heaven within earth. And yet heaven is always above, earth below. For as this heaven is loftier than earth by its place, so that heaven is more sublime than its earth by its nature. Therefore in the greater world, the things that are in the earth are beneath the earth; the things that are outside the earth are above the earth. In the lesser world, the things that are within are above, the things that are without are beneath. What are the things within, and what the things without? Invisible things are within, visible things are without. Therefore invisible things are above, visible things beneath; and invisible things are above our heaven, invisible things beneath our earth. All earthly things are beneath our earth, because they were made for its service and ordained for its obedience. Therefore our earth is above the earth. And what shall I say? 192AIs not our earth also above heaven? Did he not carry it thither, and place it there, taken from us, he who took it for us? Therefore our earth is above heaven. Our earth had first been made by nature above the earth; afterward our earth went, through guilt, into the earth, and beneath the earth; but now, through grace, our earth has been raised above heaven. Therefore all earthly things are beneath our earth. And yet this same earth is joined to earthly things and coupled to them by a kind of friendship, as heaven is joined and allied to heavenly things; and earth reaches as far as earthly things, and heaven as far as heavenly things. Therefore earthly things are the ends of the earth, and heavenly things the ends of heaven; because earth reaches as far as earthly things and no farther, and heaven as far as heavenly things and no farther. Earth stretches itself through concupiscence as far as earthly things, and 192Bheaven stretches itself through wisdom as far as heavenly things. For the flesh, as the Apostle says, lusteth against the spirit; and the spirit against the flesh (Galat. V). For the spirit lusts upward and the flesh lusts downward: and therefore each of the two stretches itself in a direction contrary to the other. And when each has come whither it stretches, there it makes an end and stretches itself no farther. Therefore the ends of the earth are earthly things, whither the earth of the flesh is stretched by carnal desire. And our earth has indeed another end, that of judgment, but of desire it has no other end. Thus far it is stretched by desire, but by judgment it is led farther. Through desire, indeed, concupiscence is stretched toward earthly things; but through judgment, after earthly things it is led into the earth, after the earth to gehenna. Through concupiscence to pleasure, after 192Cpleasure to iniquity, after iniquity to death, after death to damnation. Every man, says Scripture, is tempted, being drawn away and enticed by his own concupiscence. For concupiscence, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin; but sin, when it hath been completed, begetteth death (Jac. I). He hath conceived sorrow, and brought forth iniquity. His sorrow shall be turned upon his own head, and his iniquity shall come down upon his crown (Psal. VII).

And so the delights of carnal pleasures are the ends of the earth, and the death of the flesh follows upon the delights of the flesh. But the vengeance of damnation follows upon the death of the flesh. Therefore the ends of the earth have one end, death, by which they are received and consumed; but death 192Dhas damnation for its end, by which it is received and consummated. For carnal delights are consumed by death, so that they are no more; but the death of the flesh is consummated by damnation, so that it may be for ever. These ends fools are unwilling to consider, who have their eyes in the ends of the earth. For they gaze only at the first ends of the earth, round about the earth, where the earth itself is ended; not beyond, at the other end, where these ends are ended. They strain toward the ends of their own desire, not toward the ends of their own judgment. To the delight of their flesh, and to the enticements of their pleasures, they open their eyes, and they do not attend to what is to be thereafter beyond. Therefore they are fools who make an end in the middle of the way, where there is no end: and they do not look forward to the end where the end is. The heart of fools is where mirth is, and the heart of the wise where sadness is (Eccle. 193AVII) And another Scripture says: In all thy works all the days omnis diebus of thy life, remember thy last end, and for ever thou shalt not sin (Eccli. VII). For this reason fools do not fear to sin, because they look to the delight of sin alone, but do not look to what follows thereafter, the damnation of the delight. The eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth; the eyes of the wise man are in his head. What is the head of the wise man? Whatever is highest for anyone, this is his head. For the head is the highest part of a man. The head of the wise man, then, is that which is highest for the wise man. And what is highest for the wise man, save that which is highest of all. For he would not be wise who held for highest what was not the highest. And so that which is highest of all is the head of the wise man: and perhaps Wisdom herself is this head, whom 193Bhe who is wise sets before all things that seem to have anything to be desired, and in comparison with her he despises all things whatsoever. And rightly, because Wisdom is the highest of all; she herself is the head of the wise man, since this very thing, that he is wise, is from Wisdom herself, and what the wise man desires to be is wholly in her. Wherefore the head of the wise man is understood as nothing else more rightly than Wisdom herself; since from her is the origin of goodness, and in her consists the consummation of every good.

And so that which is highest of all is the head of the wise man, and this head is nothing other than Wisdom herself; since Wisdom is the highest of all. The highest good, then, is the head, and the highest evil the end. For there are two, the highest good and the highest evil, 193Cset on either side over against each other, and from the middle all goods and evils run back to these two ends. Every good to the highest good, and every evil to the highest evil. For there is no true good unless it leads to the highest good, nor a true evil unless it runs back to the highest evil. Therefore in like manner every evil is toward the highest evil, just as every good is toward the highest. But not in like manner is every evil from the highest evil, as every good is from the highest good. For every best giving, and every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights (Jac. I). And what of evils? The beginnings, he says, of sorrows are these (Matth. XXIV). Therefore every good is from the highest good, and every good is toward the highest good. In like manner 193Devery evil is toward the highest evil, but not every evil from the highest evil. Therefore the highest good is both the head and the end of all goods. The highest of all evils is not a head, but only an end. Therefore every good, apart from the highest good, is good just so far as it leads to the highest good; and every evil, apart from the highest evil, is evil just so far as it leads to the highest evil. For there have been many who had these middle goods, and they were not true goods to them, because through them they did not come to the highest good. And there have been many who bore grievous middle evils, and they were not evils to them, because through them they did not descend to the highest evil. And so the former, lifted up by false goods, fell headlong to the highest evil; the latter, exercised and humbled by false 194Aevils, advanced to the highest good. For this reason the wise man lifts his eyes as far as his own head, and nothing that is below suffices him, until he comes to that which is highest. For certain men have had their eyes upward and yet have not raised their eyes as far as the head, but have remained in the middle of the body. But what would the members do without the head? Could the members live, cut off from the head? So every good, without the highest good, is not a true good. You have seen a man abstaining from those things which are forbidden by the law, not committing murder, not committing adultery, not plundering, not bearing false witness, not coveting the goods of his neighbor, and you have called him a good man, of good life, of good conversation, worthy of praise, worthy of reward. 194BAnd how many have done these things and have not pleased God; because they did not do for God's sake what they did: and therefore they did not even do well, because they did not do it for the sake of the highest good. You have seen another climbing yet higher and doing greater goods, not only abstaining from evil, but even exercising himself in good, fasting, praying, bestowing many alms, showing compassion to the wretched, coming to the aid of those set in straits and tribulation, and you have proclaimed him great and worthy of imitation, as one near to God and chosen. And yet many have done all these things and have profited nothing; since they did not set God in the case. They did not have their eyes in their own head like the wise man, but bending downward into their own temptation, desiring to please either themselves or others, 194Cand glorying in their own good without God, they lost their own good, and did not come to the highest good. For deservedly could they not keep the members alive, who cut off the head from the body. Therefore the eyes of the wise man are in his head, that he may first go forward to the highest good by intention and desire of the mind, afterward follow after it by zeal and action, and then come to it by reward. Let him go forward by intention, so that all he does he may do for the attaining of it; let him follow after by zeal, so that he may persevere in it; let him come to it by reward, so that he may receive it as his prize. In this manner, therefore, the eyes of the wise man are in his head.

For this reason, indeed, when our head was below with us, lest perchance our intention also should remain below, 194Dthe head ascended above to the head, that it might draw us after it: and behold, above there are not two heads, but one head. For the head below was Christ the man in the world, and the head above was God the Father in heaven. Do you wish to know that Christ is the head? The head of the woman is the man, the head of the man is Christ (I Cor. XI). And Christ has been appointed by God head of the whole Church. And the Church herself, the bride of Christ and the body of Christ, what does she say of her bridegroom Christ? and of her head Christ? For she it is, the bride, who in Canticles, commending her beloved, after many such things and many others, adds this to his praise, saying: His head is the finest gold (Cant. V). Therefore Christ is the head, and Christ has a head. And what is the head of Christ? Hear the Apostle: The head of the woman is the man; the head 195Aof the man is Christ: The head of Christ is God (I Cor. XI). And so the head of Christ is God: and Christ himself, about to ascend into heaven, said: I ascend to my Father and your Father: my God and your God (Joan. XX). If therefore he ascends to God, he ascends to his own head; because the head of Christ is God. And this head is that finest gold which no rust consumes, no age wears away; because immortal divinity does not admit corruption. Behold, therefore, our head above is Christ, and our head above is God, and our one head is Christ and God; because Christ also is God, and the one God is Christ: and the head of Christ is God, and the one head is Christ, and the head of Christ is God; as Christ is the one beginning, and the head of Christ is God: I, he says, 195Bam the beginning, who also speak to you (Joan. VIII). For this beginning is itself our head: to which the wise man has raised his eyes, now straining toward him through faith, that afterward he may be able to have his eyes upon him, beholding him through sight. That we may lift our eyes to this beginning and to this head, Scripture admonishes us, saying: If you have risen again with Christ, savor the things that are above, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God; seek the things that are above, not the things that are upon the earth. For you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God (Coloss. III). For where we are dead, there we ought not to savor; but there we ought to savor, where we have life. If we are dead upon the earth, how do we savor upon the earth? For what dead man perceives? There, 195Ctherefore, we ought to perceive, where we have life; there to savor, where our life is hidden with Christ in God, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God. What is it to savor? To love him, that is to savor. For love itself is savor, and love itself is wisdom. And so to love the things that are above, this is to savor the things that are above; because love itself draws thither where that is which is loved: and meanwhile it has its own savor by which it is refreshed, until one comes to that which is loved. Since, therefore, what is loved through wisdom is above, for that reason Wisdom herself draws upward. And because what is loved through concupiscence, it is necessary that concupiscence itself also draw downward. But from that whereby Wisdom draws upward, and concupiscence downward, there is as it were a division of darkness from light: and the hearts which 195Ddescend downward fall away from the light; but those which ascend are in the light. For they who descend to vanity fall away from truth, and they who fall away from truth fall away from the light; because truth is light. And the light itself does not fail, but they themselves fall away from the light, when they become darkness; because darkness is not light, nor is it illumined by the light so as to shine. Nevertheless the light itself shines even in darkness, but the darkness does not comprehend it (Joan. I), so as to receive it into itself and become partakers of it, since darkness cannot have communion with light. These, then, are the darkness in which fools walk: they who savor earthly things and, not understanding their own honor, are compared to senseless beasts, and are become like to them (Psal. XLVIII). For 196Abecause after the manner of beasts they seek only earthly things, and seek after heavenly things with no affection of the mind, at length they are so blinded by the delight of the flesh, and so lulled asleep by the enticements of pleasures, that they are neither able valcant to think from what goods they have fallen, nor to look forward to what evils they are to come. What, then, do these do but walk in darkness, who are so blinded by a crooked delight that they can neither know true goods nor foresee true evils? What darkness do they suffer within, who do not see the light that is present, and cannot recognize that good whose presence they are able by no turning away to avoid? Why is this? unless because folly has blinded their eyes: which they have fixed in the ends of the earth, determining with themselves to turn their eyes down into the earth.

196BBut lest perchance anyone think it contrary, that here the fool is said to walk in darkness, and that there, as has been recalled, the eyes of fools are declared to be in the ends of the earth. For both seem to be affirmed, that they see and that they do not see, although both may nevertheless be true at once, that they see and that they do not see. For he who said: The fool walketh in darkness, seems to have said outright that the fool does not see. And again he who said: The eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth, seems to have said that they see something, namely those things which are in the ends of the earth. How then do they walk in darkness, if they see? And how do they not see, if they see those things which are in the ends of the earth? But it must be known that fools are said to walk in darkness not because they see nothing: for they see 196Cthe things which are in the ends of the earth, but because, whether in the things they see or in the things they do not see, they do not see the truth. For they do see visible things by intention and desire, and they do not see invisible things. And in the things they see, they think that to be good which is not; and in the things they do not see, they do not know that to be good which is. And so nowhere do they see the truth, and therefore they walk in darkness even in the things which they see. For the delight of the flesh and the illececebra of pleasures has blinded their hearts, so that they do not see the truth. Because the mind, made drunk with a false sweetness, while it thinks of this alone which seems sweet and pleasant in the present, can neither remember how great is the sweetness of those goods from which it fell by its own turning away, nor foresee how great is the bitterness of the evils that are coming upon it, toward which 196Dthe ruin of its own headlong fall always hastens. And note how the sentiment of truth follows upon itself. For above, this man, having considered the vanity of worldly things, despising all, betook himself to the contemplation of wisdom, saying: I passed over to the contemplation of wisdom, and errors and folly. Then considering that the true wisdom of man is nothing other than to seek true goods, and to love the things that are above, where our King is: who therefore went before us, ascending thither, that he might show whither we should follow. Noting also how difficult it is to raise up a mind accustomed to earthly delights toward the desires of eternal things, he added and said: What is man, that he can follow the King his maker? Yet you see 197Athat hearts which plunge themselves into carnal delights grow dark away from the light of truth — he gave, as it were, a definitive sentiment concerning good and evil, saying: I saw that wisdom went before folly as much as light differs from darkness. Then, commending the pursuit of both, he added at the last and said: The eyes of a wise man are in his head, but the fool walketh in darkness. Wherefore let the sentiment run back to its sum, and say: It is indeed difficult for mortal man to raise up to the contemplation of the wisdom above a heart pressed down with earthly desires; but nevertheless, because wisdom is light, and all who fail from the contemplation of it are in darkness, it is necessary that even mortal man, so far as his capacity supplies, apply his zeal to the seeking and searching out of Wisdom. 197BFor this is the wisdom of man in this life: to seek and to search out Wisdom. For to find wisdom and perfectly to lay hold of the truth is not granted to this life, but laid up for the life to come. Yet this very inquiry after Wisdom has now its own light, by which it distinguishes those who love and seek Wisdom from those who love folly and walk in darkness. But the carnal mind, loving the pleasantness of visible light, counts vain the labor for the inner light to be sought; because it either doubts or is wholly ignorant that its brightness, after this light has been taken away, remains inextinguishable in holy minds. For because it discerns that the wise and fools, by an equal lot and like condition, suffer to be withdrawn from this visible light after the death of the flesh, a doubt arises for it also concerning the light 197Cof Wisdom, whether it can be preserved inextinguishable in holy minds after the death of the flesh. Therefore, although it considers the pursuit of Wisdom itself to be good and praiseworthy, yet it doubts whether it is to be procured with so great a labor, since as to whether its fruit can be perpetual, no undoubted reason as yet makes anything manifest to it. This wavering of the human heart, then, this man, both seeing it in himself through the contemplation of truth and feeling it through the affection of the common infirmity, takes up also in a sentiment, showing how, wisdom having been sought and seen, that very consideration of mortal life was calling him back from the pursuit of wisdom, and that he therefore judged it wholly vain that others should advance in wisdom, because in paying the debt of death 197Dhe recognized himself to be equal with the rest. For this is what, after the praise of Wisdom and the commendation of the pursuit of it, he now suddenly brings in, turned to the consideration of the common infirmity, saying:

I learned that the destruction of both was one. For because he saw that both, that is, both the wise man and the fool, are withdrawn from this life by one destruction of death, he began to doubt this also: whether after this life diverse rewards of merits ought to be found according to this same diverse manner of life. And if it stands firm that this is true, why do they go out from this life by one way, who after this life do not attain to one reward? But if, just as the passage is one for all, so also there comes to be one arrival for all: why should they run before death by laboring unlike one another, 198Awho, going out by a like death, would not come after death to an unlike reward? For this is what follows: And I said in my heart: If the fall of the fool and my own shall be one, what does it profit me that I have given greater labor to wisdom? For by those who believe this life alone to be, the pursuit of Wisdom is judged wholly vain: for this reason, that its labor belongs to the present life, but the reward and fruit of the labor to the life to come. Therefore, because they see the labor, they quickly grow weary of the labor itself, and easily turn to those things which, even though wisdom teaches that they are by no means to be sought after, yet, because their fruit is present, they judge more convenient. But because Wisdom does not allow her labor to be wholly fruitless even in this life, and cherishes those who follow after her with a great inward consolation, 198Band through the illumination of truth persuades them to have confidence, in this misery of mortality, concerning the reward of eternity, this man, immediately after he had begun, because of the failing of the carnal life, to doubt concerning the fruit of the perpetual life, accuses himself out of his inmost consideration for this same doubt of his, saying:

And speaking with my own mind, I perceived that this also was vanity. And at once, adding the reason why he testifies that the aforesaid doubt is a vain thing, he brings in also the vanity itself in respect of which the truth could have come into doubt for him, saying:

For there shall not be remembrance of the wise man in like manner as of the fool for ever. For Wisdom, which does not take away mortality from the present life, grants 198Ceternity to the life to come: and although the condition of the wise man and of the fool is alike at the going out of this life, yet in the life to come the remembrance will not be alike. For as here an unlike manner of living divides them, so there too, when they shall have come into remembrance so that he may be brought to judgment, an unlike requital according to their own merits shall separate them. For future times shall not cover all things with oblivion, but all things that have been done shall come into recollection in their own time, so that every work, whether it be good or evil, may be called into judgment. Therefore the memory of the wise man shall not for ever not be in like manner as that of the fool, and future times shall not cover all things with oblivion, because, when the time shall have come, the one shall receive glory for the merit of his virtue, and the other shall receive punishment for the excess of his folly. 198DThis, then, is that for which it is not vain to shun folly, and to give greater labor to wisdom; because, when the reward of requital is received, it is made manifest how great is the fruit of just labor. Yet this very consideration of our mortality has a certain just weariness in it; because it is fitting that a man should despise what he sees to be transitory even before it comes to an end? and that he should not afflict himself with empty labor for the attaining of that which cannot long stand. On this account he again redoubles the sentiment concerning the same equal condition of mortality, saying:

The learned dieth in like manner as the unlearned: and therefore my life became wearisome to me. And deservedly indeed does such a life come into weariness, which, being wholly liable to confusion, neither in its goods while it seems to stand, nor in its evils while 199Ait comes to an end, separates the good from the evil or the worthy from the unworthy. For its goods come without discernment to the unworthy equally as to the worthy, and its evils afflict the good and the evil together by an equal lot and with the same outcome. Whence the goods also of this life rightly come into contempt with the just: goods which both afflict with various sorrows those who labor for them, and often, sought with much labor, pass over without profit to those who possess them, from the good to the wicked, and from their own to strangers. Considering which, this man, setting all things in one part — not only those which seem the evils of this life, but those also which put forward the appearance of good, while in real truth they are evils — and adjudging them by a like estimation, gives one sentiment concerning them all, saying:

Seeing that all things under the sun are evil, and all vanity, 199Band affliction of spirit, again I detested all my industry. And lest perchance you should think that he here detests that industry by which he gave greater labor to wisdom, and not rather that by which he was distended by the occupation of those things which are vain under the sun: presently he sets forth what industry he judges is to be detested, saying: And what [qua] under the sun I most studiously labored at. "I detested" is understood. And immediately he opens the reason why he detests both these things and equally the industry spent on them, when he subjoins:

Since I am to have an heir after me, whom I know not whether he will be wise or foolish: and he shall have dominion over my labors, in which I have toiled and been anxious. And lastly, commending his judgment concerning this, he brings in:

199CAnd is there anything so vain? As if he were to say: I judge nothing so vain as when one man, greedily gathering, is worn away with fruitless labor, and another, living both idly and luxuriously, has dominion over the labors of another. For manifold is the vanity where one man is afflicted without cause, and another is unlawfully delighted. For the first vanity is to seek after things that will not profit; the second, to gather things that pass away; the third, to leave the things gotten by our own labor to be possessed by others, and above all by those of whom we do not know what sort they will be. For if all these things were vain even when sought and kept for our own uses, what will they be when handed over to the pleasure of fools? Whence he says:

I ceased, and my heart renounced to labor any more under the sun. Redoubling also the reason why he ceased from labor, 199Dhe subjoins, saying:

For when one man labors in wisdom, and doctrine, and carefulness, he leaves what he has gotten to a man that is idle. This befell Solomon himself, who, laboring in wisdom and doctrine and carefulness, gathered riches and heaped up wealth, and at last left all to be possessed by a foolish heir. For he left the folly of his own stock, his son Rehoboam, who, succeeding to his father's wealth, scattered all, and left the kingdom of his father — which he had received ample enough and magnificent — torn and troubled by a diminishing of sense and a surfeit of heart. But many also labor in wisdom and doctrine and carefulness, searching out with great labor and zeal the secrets of nature and the hidden things of truth, and handing on what they have found to the memory 200Aof posterity, by word alike and by writing, for the commending of their own studies; and often they leave what they have gotten to idle men, because sometimes the negligence of those who come after refuses to take up for use this thing prepared, which the keen diligence of the earlier men acquired not without great labor and care.

This then is vanity, a great evil. It is therefore vain to labor in the knowledge of truth in order that we may come to the notice of those who neither wish to receive truth for its own sake, nor know how to approve it in others. Fruit, then, does not follow upon labor of this kind, because it neither gathers things that will profit itself, nor are those to whom it leaves what has been gathered stirred by any emulation of virtue to the pursuit of the good. For if there is labor for the one who seeks, and there is no profit for the one who receives, what does such labor profit? 200BBut it is also a great evil, that from what one man is worn away with labor, another should abuse idly and unlawfully. For it is a great evil, because both the one gathers to his own harm and the other receives to his own harm. Therefore this is vanity and a great evil.

For what does it profit a man of all his labor, and affliction of spirit, wherewith he has been tormented under the sun? If it does not profit toward anything else, it profits nothing; nay rather, if it does not profit toward anything else, it does much harm, because the searching after it has great punishment, but the finding has no fruit. For what a punishment it is never to be without punishment?

All his days are full of sorrows and hardships: nor does he rest in mind by night. Very wretched is he who cannot have quiet even in that time which is naturally given 200Cto quiet. By day he is worn away with labor, by night he is tormented with the care and anxiety of labor. For him whom, waking, the distension of labor and its restlessness harasses, it wearies also when he sleeps, being heaped upon his soul through the images and phantasies of dreams. No time, then, is allowed to pass for rest; the whole is taken up with sorrow and labor, and nothing is gained for profit and salvation.

And is not this vanity? Truly it is vanity, and utterly a great vanity. But what then? If this is vanity, what then is to be done?

Is it not better, he says, to eat and drink, and to shew his soul good things of his labors? If those labors are vain which confer no profit on those who labor, 200Dthen it is better to labor and to take the fruit of one's own labors. The reasoning seems plain, but it has many an exception. For it would have been much better if it had been said thus, and it would have stood true everywhere: If those labors are vain from which no fruit comes to those who labor, then labors of this sort are altogether to be set aside, and one must rather labor in those things wherein a fruit both certain and true may come to those who labor. But now by this reasoning vanity has been changed, not dismissed, and one vanity has succeeded another, not every vanity has departed. Vain Vena carefulness is rebuked, so that a mind harmfully free of care may be loosed through torpor and idleness and incontinence into baseness. For if that man who distends himself with superfluous labor is truly seen to be blameworthy, why on that account is he who dissolves himself into pleasure and incontinence 201Athought to please? But the carnal soul finds the middle of truth with difficulty; and therefore it sometimes willingly consents to forsake one vice, since through it it sees a way opened for itself to another which pleases it more. And it pours itself out into the contrary with its whole intention the more boldly, the more certain it holds it that what it forsakes is an evil. For now, in its own evil, it not only judges itself worthy of no rebuke, but even supposes itself praiseworthy; and although it manifestly commits evil, it does not wish to be seen to be doing evil, but rather to be shunning evil. For it does not consider that by turning aside from a vice it has fallen into a vice, and therefore it thinks that by no means is the evil which it does to be marked with ill repute; because in it, as it were, it labors not so much to do evil as to turn aside from it. Whence here too, 201Bwhen he had seen that those men are wretched and worthy of rebuke who greedily gather with labor and carefulness riches that will not profit them, and neither use the things they possess, but leave them to others to be possessed and used after them, in order to shun their folly he freely casts himself into the contrary sentiment, saying: Is it not better to eat and drink, and to shew his soul good things of his labors? There is one sentiment of all who are prone to vice. They always rebuke the opposite, that they may commend their own. Let the greedy perish, says the glutton and the spendthrift — and he devours, and gets drunk, and distends himself and fills himself to the point of choking. And his proverb is always: Let the greedy perish. And he thinks himself commended because he is not such a man, lest he be blameworthily such a man as he is. Nay, even for this reason he wishes to be seen to be such 201Cas he is, lest perchance he be such as he accuses others of being, which he does not wish to be — as though indeed there were no middle ground where both might come to pass; both that he be not such as he accuses others of being, and yet that he be not such as with shameless boasting he exults that he is. It is better to eat and drink, and to shew his soul good things of his labors. How fair are the words, to eat and to drink! Who is there that shudders when he hears "to eat and to drink," or thinks that anything has been said here against modesty or chastity? But a shameless baseness lies hidden, covered with the veil of chastity. Let him therefore say openly: It is better to devour, and to get drunk, and to serve the desires of one's concupiscence with unbridled liberty. For if he had spoken thus, what sort of sentiment would it be? And indeed 201Dhe did speak altogether thus; because he wished to signify this in that which he said: It is better to eat and drink, and to shew his soul good things of his labors.

And this is from the hand of God. Men say this, and there is a kind of men who are wont to say this: Let us devour, and let us get drunk, and let us do well by ourselves out of those things which God has given us, because this is from the hand of God; because these things too were given us for this, that we might do well by ourselves. For why were all these things made, save for the uses of men, that men might use them, and that it might be well with them in those things which God gave them? And by saying these things they are blinded, and are carried away without measure and without chastity into their own pleasures, so as to applaud themselves, since God made all these things for use; but they neither know nor consider that although God made all good things for use, 202Ayet he made nothing for crooked and disordered uses.

Who shall so devour, and abound with delights, as I? An evil boast is this. And yet there are those who glory in such things: and these too wisdom ought not to have passed over in the number of the vanities. Such men the prophet rebukes in another place, saying: Woe to you that are mighty to drink wine, and stout men at mingling drunkenness (Isa. V). Who shall so devour, and abound with delights, as I? What manner of lover of wisdom is this? How far turned backward, nay, how far turned away and perverted from him who a little before saw the light of wisdom, and divided it from the darkness of folly with so subtle a consideration, saying: I saw that wisdom went before folly as much as light differs from darkness. Whence, do you think, was this sense so quickly made worst 202B[pessundatus]? Did he not say for his own sake what he said of himself, that he was a lover of wisdom: and this was not what he said; but he wished to signify certain men of that sort, for whose sake he said this which he said of himself? Or was he himself also, in some respect, all this truly, and yet did not on that account cease to be a lover of wisdom; because at once in one man both the sense of the flesh, according to the inborn corruption and the sin that dwells in it, urged wickedness, and yet the spirit, according to the affection of virtue and the judgment of uprightness, loved wisdom? See, nevertheless, what man is, whether in him who said this and was such a man, or in those for whose sake he said what he said of himself: whom he wished to signify to be such. See indeed what man is. Who shall so devour, and abound with delights, 202Cas I? Why dost thou glory in malice, thou that art mighty in iniquity? (Psal. LI.) If no one can do what thou canst do, it is a great thing if he is able for good. But if thou art able for more in evil, why dost thou glory? For to be able for evil is not power, but weakness. Who shall so devour, and abound with delights, as I? For who is there, he says, to gainsay it, when God commands this? For God created gladness, and willed that those who please him should take joy in it.

But to the sinner he gave affliction, and superfluous surperfluam care, that he may labor, that he may be distended, and gather, and not possess, but hand it over to him who pleases God. Therefore good things to the good, and evil things to the evil. Consider how great is this perversity. Iniquity hath lied to itself (Psal. 202DXXVI). Iniquity has lied both about itself and about God; and yet it has lied to none but itself. Iniquity said: Good things to the good, and evil things to the evil (Eccli. XXXIX). And where is that word: Mercy and truth have met each other? (Psal. LXXXIV.) Where is that: All the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth? (Psal. CXVIII.) Where is that: Men and beasts thou wilt save, O Lord: how hast thou multiplied thy mercy, O God? (Psal. XXXV.) Where, in short, is that which Truth herself and mercy says: Be ye merciful, as your Father also is merciful: who maketh his sun to rise upon the good and the bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust? (Matth. V.) If good things have been given to the good alone, what is it that Scripture says of the good: The kiln trieth the potter's vessels, and the furnace of tribulation just men? (Eccli. XXVII.) 203AAnd: All who wish to live godly in Christ must needs suffer persecution (II Tim. III). They went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being in want, naked, straitened, afflicted, of whom the world was not worthy (Hebr. XI). In hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness? (II Cor. XI.) And so iniquity lied about God, when it said: That God gives good things to the good alone, and evil things to the evil alone. For he both gives good things to the good, and gives evil things to the evil; and gives evil things to the good, and good things to the evil. For to the good he both gives good things that they may be cherished, and gives evil things that they may be exercised; and to the evil he gives evil things that they may be chastised, and gives good things that they may be called forth. And so iniquity lied about God, when it said: God gives good things to the good and evil things to the evil. But it would have spoken truth if it had spoken of true goods and of true evils, namely that true goods and true evils are goods to none but the good, and 203Bevils to none but the evil. For this reason, then, iniquity lied about God. But iniquity has also lied about itself. When did iniquity lie about itself? When it called itself goodness, then did iniquity lie about itself, because iniquity is not goodness. And where did iniquity call itself goodness? When it said: Who shall so devour, and abound with delights, as I? Then it called itself goodness: for iniquity said this, since this saying against goodness and honor belongs to iniquity and impurity. Therefore iniquity said this, and in this it called itself goodness: because it said that this alone belongs to goodness which it said it would do, since it presumed itself to be goodness. For it said:

To a good man God gave, in his own sight, wisdom and knowledge and gladness. First he gave wisdom and knowledge, that he might understand and know how to seek gladness 203Cin his sight: because God made it that those who please him might exult in it. As though indeed it were not wisdom, and much the greater wisdom, to seek and embrace that sadness which is according to God, rather than a foolish gladness, since on the contrary Scripture says: The heart of stulterum is where mirth is, and the heart of the wise where sadness is (Eccle. VII), This indeed is true, that God has prepared gladness for his elect in his sight, and has set wisdom and knowledge in their heart, that they may know and understand how to seek it where it is. But this is not that gladness with which they are glad who do evil: who rejoice in the worst things (Prov. II). For that gladness is not in his sight, because of those who embrace it Scripture said: 203DThou shalt set them downward [Vulg. dorsum, "the back"], in thy remnants thou shalt prepare their countenance (Psal. XX). Therefore God gave gladness to the good man, but that gladness which is in his sight. Of which it is written: Let the just feast, and exult in the sight of God: let them be delighted with gladness (Psal. LXVII). And again: Visit us with thy salvation, that we may see the good of thy elect: that we may be glad in the gladness of thy nation, that thou mayest be praised with thine inheritance (Psal. CV). And again he says: Thou shalt fill me with gladness with thy countenance: delights at thy right hand even unto the end (Psal. XV). This gladness, then, God gave to the good man in his sight.

But to the sinner he gave affliction, and superfluous care. Not by bringing in malice, but by descending to malice into the worst occupation.

204AThat he may add and gather, and hand it over to him who hath pleased God. Yet for this reason, because the one gathered riches through avarice, and the other, having received them, scattered them to the use of mercy. Otherwise neither is he who gathered rightly rebuked, nor is he who possesses commended. But now all things are said perversely, when it is said that he who devours and abounds with delights is good, and that to him God gave wisdom and knowledge and gladness in his sight — whereas it was said above that they are fools who have their eyes in the ends of the earth, looking to earthly delights and serving the pleasure of the flesh. And so iniquity lied, which said that pleasure is the reward of justice, and that the fruit of wisdom consists in it, and judged that bodily delights contain the sum of happiness. But a false judgment cannot long 204Bstand in glory. For truth comes forth, and lays falsehood low. He says, in fact.

But this also is vanity, and an empty carefulness of the mind. What is this? Not only is this vanity and empty carefulness, that the sinner should add and gather and not possess; but this too is vanity and empty carefulness, that the just man should seek after and covet the riches of the sinner, or, if he has received them, should set his heart upon them. The whole, then, is vanity and empty carefulness, because nothing under the sun can remain, either for him who uses or for him who seeks riches and pleasures and joy and gladness. For all things pass away and flow off, and nothing subsists under the sun, so that the sentiment may be fulfilled: Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, and all things vanity (Eccle. I). For vanity is filled full in this also, 204Cthat the very heart of man does not remain in the same state, but, always other than itself and adverse to itself and a stranger outside itself, always removes far from that which is into that which is not; and it passes over and is snatched away with the greatest vanity, whether from vain things to true or from true things to vain, everywhere vain and unstable, now seeking the highest things, now plunging itself into the lowest. There approving truth; here setting vanity before it. And we now see this greatest wavering of the human mind, contemplating in one man the whole race of men, and we were wondering how quickly the sense of mortals is brought to ruin, and, after so sublime a contemplation of truth, suffers itself to go into the alien things of baseness. From which indeed nothing else is given us to understand, 204Dexcept that we should know our own wretched vanity, and that in this, that we reach to high things and approve the better, we should consider what sort of being man was made by nature: but in this, that we seek after things so wretched and abject, we should understand what sort of being man has been made by his own guilt, so that at least in this we may begin to be partakers of truth, that we truly acknowledge our own vanity.

Many are the words of man, because the heart of man is not one. For unless the mind first scattered itself inwardly, away from the fount of truth, through many desires, in no wise would speech derive itself outwardly through so many assertions. But now, because the ruling soul is torn away from 205Athe love of virtue, through various desires, into the concupiscence of vanity, therefore in the approving of that same vanity the tongue serves it outwardly by word with a various and inconstant judgment. For this reason, then, Solomon, disputing about vanity, so often changes his sentiment in his discourse, namely that he may show his understanding to have been changed in his thinking through the love of vanity. For the human heart, which is not fixed in the desire of eternity, is never able to be stable; since it is shaken from its own stability by the seething of carnal desires as often as it is moved, from those things to which it had clung by love, to the coveting of others. For because it seeks out the fruit of eternity in the use of things that pass away, and thinks that it can find the joy of happiness 205Bin those things which were made only for the consolation of a time: therefore always, when in the things it has, with experience teaching, it has found either a false pleasantness or a true misery, it straightway turns itself to the seeking of other things, as though better, by which it may either lighten its own sorrow or fill up its pleasantness. Hence, therefore, it always seeks things to come and loathes things present: and it comes about in a certain wondrous way that he who is always deceived in the desire of what is to come is scarcely ever wholly deceived in the experience of things present. For man is his own witness that these very things which he loves are not the true goods; because while he always gapes in mind after things to come, and never acknowledges himself truly happy in the things he enjoys, in this he plainly proves even himself that all these things, although they can be sought after by fools when they are not had, as though for the highest happiness, yet can never, when they are had, be 205Cpossessed unto the highest happiness. And yet the carnal mind, blinded by the darkness of its own concupiscence, cannot plainly see what it also cannot be wholly ignorant of: that although it always sees vanity in the experience of things present, yet it never restrains itself from the appetite of things to come. It disapproves what it has experienced, it praises what is yet to be experienced; and the more immoderately it pours itself out through concupiscence in the desire of the things it does not yet have, the more grievously is it vexed with sorrow in the failing of the things it already has. This wavering of the human mind, then, Ecclesiastes has thus far set forth to us in himself, when in the approving of things, whether from loathing of things present or from appetite for things to come, with a changed mind he so often varied his judgment. For he thought 205Dto find in those things which are rolled along under time something stable in which his soul might rest: and therefore, approving one thing after another as though by experiment, and disapproving all things once experienced, he acknowledged at last that there is nothing in them all which can either abide perpetually for those who enjoy it, or exhibit, while it is present, the full fruit of pleasantness. Therefore now, reproving his own ignorance, in that he believed himself to possess an abiding gladness in changeable things, he shows that just as all things, not only prosperous but adverse also, are good in their own time to him who uses them well, so to those who with a perverse love love temporal things instead of eternal, and hope that they can become happy in them, not even prosperous things can confer true happiness. He did ill, then, when he chose certain of them, as though better than all, 206Afor his own pleasantness; because a strong soul, which through temporal things hastens to the state of eternity, not only seeks prosperous things of this world meanwhile for consolation, but also willingly takes adverse things into use, when the time demands, for the exercising of its own virtue. And therefore, all things being proved by experiment, he at last acknowledges the condition of changeable things, and confesses that nothing out of all the things that pass away can stand perpetually, saying:

(ECCLE. V.) All things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. Why then should you either fear the evils of this world or covet its goods, since all things pass under heaven? Since rather this accords with truth: that in all these things you hold not anything, whether in good or in evil, for the highest; because all things 206Bpass away. Nor should you think anything is to be cast away in its own time, because all things have been justly ordered. For all things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. All things have their time, so that nothing is found perpetual and always abiding: but everything that is either follows something else, so that it does not come from the beginning, or runs before something else, so that it does not extend itself even to the end. All things have also a certain and determined time, when they begin and when they end; and likewise how long each subsists, and when each subsists, so that nothing is beside reason; and let the prudent soul study so to fit itself both to times and to temporal things that it neither set its confidence in the things that pass away as though they abided, nor presume to murmur, in the things that have been well ordered, against the disposition 206Cof the Creator. And in every event, conforming itself to true and abiding goods, let it so despise the variety of changeable things that, although it use each thing for a time while it is present, it never allow its soul, at the passing of that thing, to turn aside from its own state. For that man is most prudent who so knows how to turn passing things to use that nevertheless he does not know how to bend his mind from its own stability at their failing. For all things in their own time are good to him who uses them well, and yet all things whatsoever that lie subject to changeableness, although in misery they afford some sort of consolation, cannot nevertheless confer ease. Nothing therefore is to be cast away in its own time, and nothing is to be chosen not in its own time; but let the soul be so 206Dprepared for the use of a time that it nevertheless be not changed to the changeableness of the time. All things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. Why then should any one thing be chosen for every time, since all things have their time? For if some one thing out of them all had every time, all things would not have their time; since, of two things contrary and at odds with each other, if there were a time for the one always to be, there would be a time for the other never to be. And thus this one would have no time, since that one, with which it could not have the same time, would have every time. Now therefore, since all things have their time, no one thing out of them all has every time; but each thing has its own time, when that it should be is good es, and a time when it is good that it should not be. 207AWhen, therefore, it has its time, it is good that it should be, even if that is not good which it is good should be; and when it has not a time to be, it is good that it should not be, even if that is good which it is good should not be. Job knew this, and received good things, praising God in his benefits, and the enemy thought that a holy conscience lay subject to time. He took away riches and goods; he slew the pledges of his house; he smote the flesh, he assailed him with reproaches and injuries, that he might break by adverse things the man whom he could not soften by prosperous ones. But Job, knowing that all things have their time, just as in good things he restrained himself by continence, so in evil things also bravely bore adversities by patience. But his wife, because she was foolish, and did not understand that all things have their time, thought that the rewards of merits were to be weighed by the moments 207Bof times: and therefore, seeing him smitten and believing him forsaken, she rebuked him for having worshipped God in vain, and mocked him, as though he had deserved the scourges in return for his blessing, saying: Now bless God, and die (Job II). To whom he answered: Thou hast spoken like one of the foolish women. If we have received good things from the hand of the Lord, why should we not receive evil? (Ibid.) For all things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. If there is a time for the weak to be cherished with prosperous things, there is a time also for the perfect to be exercised with adverse things; if there is a time for good things to the good and evil things to the evil for the sake of truth, there is a time also for evil things to the good and good things to the evil for the sake of testing. All things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven.

207CWhy do you plead, all of you under time, about the laws of times? It belongs to time to lie subject to changeableness and to suffer vicissitude. For if all these things do not come to pass in time, when are they to come to pass? For beyond times there will be eternity, and there will be no changeableness: and there will not then be there, "all things have their time"; but everything that will be will so be that it cannot be now one thing and now another according to a time, but what will be will always be. Therefore, so long as you live under time, suffer the laws of time. Suffer them willingly, lest perchance, even if you were unwilling, you should nevertheless suffer them. Suffer the laws of time, that you may pass through time to the state of eternity. For one cannot find eternity in time, because eternity comes only after times: and those find eternity after times who, in the flowing of alternating times, fixed in mind 207Dupon the desire of eternity, stand unchangeable. All things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. For heaven itself also measures the spaces of all times, and all things that are under heaven pass away in time, and heaven itself does not pass away, from which time is. For time is, as it were, from heaven itself, and in heaven itself there is no time: and although all things that are under heaven receive their time from heaven, yet in heaven itself eternity stands firm. A great spectacle of wisdom is the visible image, that from the contemplation of visible things we may be roused to the emulation of invisible ones. Look upon heaven. It seems, as it were, to be moved, and it does not seem to be changed. But the things which are under heaven are changed, and thence is the origin of all motion, where 208Athere is no changeableness. Therefore all things pass away under heaven, because in heaven all things stand firm. And the very things which pass away measure their own being from those things which subsist; because there would be no certain subsistence of things passing away if the state of the things that subsist were not perpetual. For those things which truly are, always are; and always are what they are; and there are other things which truly are not, and those which truly are: in a certain way they emulate them, that they may be something in that which they are; and when they have begun to be what they are, they pass over into that which they are not; and they are not truly this which they are, because they cease to be this, and now are not; nor are they truly this which they begin to be, because they only begin to be this, and are not yet. So these things are wanderers in true being, and in the very passage in which they run they seem to partake of a being 208Bwhich they neither take in nor comprehend, although they seem to touch it, lest they be nothing at all. For they appear there, and when they are sought they are not, because they have gone away into the nothing whence they had come, and they were not out of that in which they were. For that alone in which they were truly was; and the whole of what it was, it itself was, nor had it received from elsewhere what it was; and in it all these things were admitted, so that out of that which itself truly was, these too might be something. As much, therefore, as they partake of true being, so much are all these things which do not have true being in themselves: to which this is the whole of being, that they are that very thing which has true being. And although in itself it is one, yet in them it seems to be another according to the capacity of those partaking, since they themselves are others in that which is not another. Each thing, then, has, according to its partaking of that 208Cwhich always is, its own spaces of subsisting, some greater and some lesser; according as they are in that which is neither greater nor lesser, but is always the same itself. Therefore from it there is divided and measured out to each its own space and its own time, to one short, to another long; and there are days and months, and years, and lustra, and ages, and short hours, and moments, and instants; and all these are time in the things themselves which pass away and truly are not; and in that from which they are what they are, they are one, and there is found there not time, but eternity. All things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under heaven. For out of all the things that are under heaven nothing is eternal, but all lie subject to time and to changeableness. For all things at some time had a beginning, and at some time will have an end: and between the beginning 208Dand the end is the space itself of time, which is time to that which has a beginning and an end; and that same space is eternity to that which has neither beginning nor end. For that very thing which began, before it began, was not; and when it ceased to be, it then was no longer; and then to it there was nothing, because that was nothing; and yet even then there was that which always was; and that same thing afterward was when this was; and this which began, began in that; and what was, was in that, so long as it was; and when this was, which was not always, that also was which always was, because this was in that; and what to the one was time, because it was not always, was to the other eternity, because it always was. So out of eternity all things have their time, and all things pass in their own spaces under 209Aheaven. They have a time when they begin, and they have a time when they end. They have spaces for as long as they are to subsist: for this space is the delay of subsisting between the beginning and the end; and these spaces are like for many, unlike for many; yet all are weighed out by an equal judgment. And when the delay comes to those who live in gladness and joy, and lead their days among good things, it seems a great happiness; and when for those who are in hardships and are wearied by adversities the long spaces run on, it is judged a great misery and a great unhappiness; and yet man does not know his own lot, nor can he search out the judgment of God upon himself: for the long times themselves also have an end; and when they have received their end, those things are now no more which seemed good; and in like manner the things also which were thought evil are now 209Bno more. And often upon passing goods there follow evils that will abide, and upon passing evils, after their end, goods which have no end: and then past goods can profit nothing in the multitude of evils, and past evils can hurt nothing, in the abundance of goods, to those happily brought to consummation.

Let not a man, therefore, glory on account of his own time, before the time, nor let him who is in tribulation be broken by the adversities of times; because all things pass away, until the time comes when there shall be measured back in eternity whatever was drawn out in the spaces of times, whether greater or lesser. Then the long spaces of times will not please the impious, the happiness of times being spent; and their faults abiding which they contracted through the times, when they shall have seen eternal punishments for temporal 209Cdeeds. But to the just their own long times will then seem even scant, when they shall have seen their temporal merits recompensed with eternal rewards. Before this time, whatever is done in time is hidden, whether it be long or short, so that man may not dare to search out the judgment of God, but may be prepared for every time, whether it be good or evil, so that, being proved through good things and evil, he may pass over to good things, to be glorified. And if meanwhile the spaces of time be long, let him not presume in good things, let him not fall in evil ones; because all things pass in their own spaces under heaven, so that, when the time under heaven passes away, there may succeed the eternity which is in heaven.

A time to be born, and a time to die. Now 209Dhe pursues, with examples following one upon another, what he had set forth generally, saying: All things have their time. And here he enumerates both goods and evils: and after goods, evils, and again after evils, goods; nowhere evils alone, or goods alone. For at this time of this life it is not possible to have goods without evils, nor evils without goods; because all things are mingled, so long as it is the time that all things have their time.

A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up; a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to destroy and a time to build. First good things and evils: a time to be born and a time to die. Afterwards evils and good things: a time to kill and a time to heal. Not good things alone, nor evils alone; but both good things and evils. Nor only after 210Agood things evils, but also after evils good things: yet first after good things evils, and then after evils good things follow. For there are two lives: one according to the flesh, the other according to the spirit. And we know, on the Apostle's testimony, that not first that which is spiritual, but that which is carnal, is first (I Cor. XV). There are therefore two lives, the first carnal, the second spiritual. And each life has its own good things and its own evils; because all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth (Psal. XXIV); for he himself saves men and beasts (Psal. XXXV); he opens his hand, and fills every living thing with blessing (Psal. CXLIV). For he has set before every man both good things and evils. Good things indeed, by which he may cherish him through mercy; evils, by which through justice, examining his faults, he may condemn him. And every life has 210Bits own good things and its own evils, so that all things may have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans; both are given, and both are set forth; the one out of justice, the other out of mercy. All the ways of the Lord are mercy, truth. Mercy and truth have met one another: justice and peace have kissed (Psal. LXXXIV). If evils alone, there would be no mercy. If good things alone, there would be no justice. God therefore sets forth both good things and evils, and leaves to man the power of choosing which of the two he shall receive first. For it behooves him to taste gustaro both, but which of them first lies in himself. But the carnal man, hastening as it were to his inheritance and turning aside from judgment, so that he may lack the blessing at the last, chooses good things first; and God gives him temporal goods that have an end, so that evils that shall abide without 210Cend may follow upon them. But the spiritual man is first tried by adversities that he may be brought through to prosperity, and he too has his own evils and his own good things; but the evils in time, the good things in eternity. Thus every life is led to its consummation by an alternating lot, the one from good things to evils, the other from evils to good things. And all things have their time that they may be, and pass away that they may not be, running forward in their own spans to their end so long as they are. Good things pass away amid evils, and evils amid good things; and while they pass they sometimes make delay, and they have certain spans, each according as they are ordained, until they receive their end. Therefore he enumerates certain of the things that alternate in the world, that he may show the fluctuation of all mutable things. And first he sets down good things and evils, as though describing the state of the carnal life; 210Dthen evils and good things, expressing the condition of the spiritual life. Afterwards he alternates, and changes good things and evils, and evils and good things, that he may show a certain further confusion: because neither to the evil are there good things unto the end, nor to the good evils unto the end. But even before the end, now good things and evils, now evils and good things follow one upon another. Yet this whole variation of the distribution has its beginning from good into evil, when it is said: A time to be born, and a time to die; and its end from evil into good, when it is said, a time of war and a time of peace. Because the first life has good first, and evil last. The second life has evil first, and good last; in the middle of each, with evils and goods fluctuating by an uncertain lot. But among all these things which are enumerated for an example of all things, 211Acertain are taken from human life itself, certain from those things that belong to human life, so that the whole of what is man's may be shown mutable — man who perhaps would not go wholly into corruption, if he could have stood at least in some measure either in himself or in his own. A time to be born and a time to die, this is from human life itself devita humana; a time to plant and a time to pluck up what has been planted, this is from those things that belong to human life. For the work of man will perish together with man; because just as in man what is born is born that it may die, so what is planted by man is planted that it may be plucked up. For the time of every thing under heaven is not in the will of man, but in the judgment of the Maker. Since for every thing under heaven there is a time when God wills it, even 211Bif man, when the time is, does not will what God wills. Therefore the things that God does, he always does when the time is; but the things that man does, he does not always do when the time is, since either by ignorance he does not know what is right, or by a depraved will he desires what is disordered. Therefore the time of every thing lies under the will of the Creator, when it is time that what is to be done in time be done, and everything that is done in time; if it does not accord with his will, there was a time when it was being done, but it was not the time when it ought to have been done. Therefore the works of men alone do not keep their own times, even when they are done in time; because in that part man alone does not follow the appointed time, where, abusing the liberty of choice, he does not govern himself under the will of the Maker.

211CThere is therefore one time which is allotted to each thing by the disposition of the Maker; another which is usurped by human presumption against the disposition of the Maker. In that time man, with the rest, submits to the law; but here he alone, beyond the rest, transgresses the law. And therefore there it is rightly done with him, even in that which he himself does not will; but here he often acts against what is right, doing nothing but what he himself wills. A time to be born, and a time to die. No one is born when he wills, even if someone sometimes dies when he wills. And yet many, when they die, by will die not when the time is; and many who are born by necessity are born when the time is. Even those who are born before the time are born when the time is; and 211Dthose who are born after the time are born when the time is: because necessity confers the time of being born, while a depraved will sometimes chooses the time of dying. Therefore no one offends in the time when he is born; and many offend in the time when they die. For even if nature sometimes passes by, yet the will does not offend, because that is not laid to the fault of the sufferer which not his own will concerning himself, but a just disposition from above, governs. Then therefore is there a time for every thing, when it is just that what is to be done be done, whatever that shall have been. Either by God without man, or by man, with God. For that anything should be done by man without God — there is no time for it, just as nothing just can be done by man without God. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time 212Ato pluck up. Here we may attend to a certain summary and universal comprehension of the mutability of all things, so that, as we distinguished at the beginning concerning the whole course of the work, so here too he may first express that mutability to which all things are subject, and then, pursuing more at large that one in which human actions fluctuate, may show it more monstrous than all and more to be feared. For these first four things which are set down seem to look especially to that mutability which is in all things that have a rising and a setting, and all the rest to belong properly to that which is engaged in human actions. For that all things that rise set, and that things increased grow old, was said on account of those things that live and feel: a time to be born and a time to die; on account of those things that live and do not 212Bfeel: a time to plant, and a time to pluck up; or else for those things that have a natural rising he set first a time to be born, and a time to die; and then for those that are fitted for quickening by care and industry he subjoined: a time to plant, and a time to pluck up. This therefore is that great vanity, vanity of vanities, for which it is too little that all things be mutable, unless they be further snatched into their contraries while all things pass away. For how great a thing it is to go far off and to sojourn away from one's own being, and to go and pass over into a contrary being, where you cannot at all be what you begin to be, unless you have utterly ceased to be what you are? There, then, the passage is hard, where by no reasoning can what follows subsist, unless first the whole of what precedes be destroyed. And what do you think, when there is a going from good things to 212Cevils, when good things are changed into their contrary evils — what a change that is, most of all there where there is no running back, nor can any return be hoped for? For evils too are sometimes changed into good things, and again good things into evils; and often it happens that the two succeed one another by turns. Nor is that altogether grievous which is mutually tempered, so that neither are the evils great upon which good things follow, nor the good things best which are ended by evils following after; and all this can be borne, and whatever it may be, when it has come to pass, has its comparison, that it be not reckoned too much: there is one thing which, when it has befallen, who will be able to bear?

A time to be silent and a time to speak. A time to gather and a time to lose. A time to mourn and a time 212Dto laugh. All these things are bearable: and when some one of them has befallen a man, that one passes and another comes; and this too, when it has stood its own time, passes, and that returns which had passed; and this happens everywhere again and again as long as one lives; and never does any one thing remain so as to be alone always.

A time to be born and a time to die. These are not like those, nor have they any running back once it has come to pass. For there is one death and one birth: and just as after one birth there is one death, so before one death there is not more than one birth. And no one dies who has not first been born; nor, when someone has once died, can he thereafter be born. Birth is the beginning of life, death the end, and there is a going from birth to death; but after death the way back to birth 213Adoes not lie open. For from birth the time of man begins, and by death it is ended. And therefore these have their time unlike all other things: the one, that in it the time is first, and it itself is no more; the other, that in it there is no more time, and it is always. This therefore is heavier than all, that it so has its time that it is itself without time, because after its time there will be no time in which what its time has taken away and consumed could be restored anew. Therefore the time to be born seems better than the time to die, because in the time of being born life is given, but in the time of dying life is taken away. And yet those who are born die, and those who die are born; since those who are born unto death begin to die from the moment they begin to live under the failing of mortality; 213Band those who die unto life begin truly to live from the moment when, after death, they have now ceased to be mortal. Wherefore a good death is more to be wished for than an evil life, because by a good death one proceeds to a good life, and by an evil life one arrives at an evil death. Therefore all things have their time, and nothing is to be cast away in its own time: since there is both a time to be born, that the first life may begin, which is exercised through justice in time; and a time to die, that the second life may follow, which enjoys the reward of justice in eternity. Afterwards he adds what follows:

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what has been planted. This second thing therefore is of the work of the craftsman, together with nature. For the first work was of nature alone, 213Cand that too was transitory. But now the work of the craftsman together with nature is subjoined; and that too is shown to be transitory, so that nothing may remain under the sun, the gladness which springs up from birth or from planting be tempered by the memory of death and of uprooting. Then there follow the works of the craftsman alone without the work of nature, and these too are enumerated in great number, and all are shown to be transitory, so that vanity may increase by its degrees; and yet all these things, just as by their mutability they are vain, so in their time they become fitting, so that in all these things man, even if he cannot hold the state of eternity, may yet study to keep the order of reason.

A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to destroy and a time to build. A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance. 213DAnd many other things which are enumerated, and many others which cannot be enumerated. And in all these human life suffers vicissitude and lies subject to mutability. For all these things pass over it, and run in by turns, one after another; and those that had gone before follow after, and again those that had followed go before; and without intermission this is done in the waves of great fluctuations. After weeping comes laughter, and after laughter weeping succeeds; and when joy has succeeded grief, again joys are changed into grief. And all these things have their time, when the will of man conforms itself through justice, according to the time, to the divine will, either willingly for the doing of them, or submits itself for the suffering of them. For all things have their time when man either does them according to God or suffers them for God, because for the man who walks according to 214AGod all things in their own time, if prosperous things befall, cherish him; if adverse things happen, exercise him. Therefore all things have their time which man can justly do or justly suffer. But what cannot be done without injustice never has a time that it be done, because man has received no time for doing evil — man, to whom his time has been given for this alone, that he may either correct the evils he has done, or supply the good things he has not yet done. Therefore sins have no time; and all things have their time, because in their own time all things are to be well done; and things are good when all are well done, and out of all things sins are not among those that are to be well done, nor are sins good, although it is good that sins themselves should be. Therefore sins have no time, and sins are permitted to be done in time; 214Band they are not justly done when they are done, and they are justly permitted to be done when they are done; and when they have been done, they are justly ordered; and there comes a time that they be permitted to be done, and there comes no time that they be done, because they are not well done, and they are well permitted, that they may be justly ordered. A time to plant, a time to mourn, a time to dance, a time to acquire. Where is a time to be wanton and a time to get drunk? But those things can be well done in their own time: therefore they have their time. These have no time, because they are never to be well done. But perhaps it may seem to be the contrary that there has been set down a time to kill, a time of war, a time of hatred. But all these can be well done; and therefore they have their time, since they are to be justly done. For there is also a sword of justice, 214Cwith which kings and princes punish criminals out of zeal for equity, and put to death men condemned for their crimes, serving God in this very thing by a power received according to the precepts of the divine law. And these wage wars for the defense of the fatherland and the peace of the Churches, and fight down the enemies of peace, lest they oppress the innocent. There is also a holy hatred by which crimes are hated, not men; and this sometimes, for a wholesome terror, inflicts a strict severity outwardly for the correcting of vices, and inwardly preserves inviolate the sweetness of love, by which it thirsts for the salvation of men. Therefore there is a time of hatred, and a time of war: and all things have their time, when they are to be justly done. It is permitted me to confess what I confessed also at the beginning: that for these high and lofty matters I am too small in understanding to tell what is fitting, because 214Das for what is not fitting and does not agree, it is enough to have turned aside from this, if it be granted. For many are the secrets hidden in the deep of wisdom, and man is not able to search out her mysteries; and the words of wisdom, surpassing all understanding, scatter some light concerning the things that lie hidden, and that light is small in comparison with the whole. Therefore man labors when he sees it, and thinks to enter in that he may contemplate; and he is not able, unless wisdom be with him, and show him within the secrets of her ways in that part in which he has been made acceptable to her. And when he has drunk much, this much is much to him, and it is itself scant in comparison with her overflowing fullness. Therefore we have said many things about the waves of things and about the contrary agitation of those things that are under heaven; and all this is still little in comparison with the whole; and there will perhaps be those who will reckon us too lavish 215Ain speaking, because they do not attend to the multitude of things to be said, and to the profundity of the things that have been said. We have spoken this briefly, that we may bring back again a fresh utterance to the beginning of the narrative to come, and may have our minds more eager.

All things have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans. Ecclesiastes had sought above some one thing in the world in which he might have rested in mind; and he did not find it among all things, whether because each one was imperfect, or because all were transitory. Therefore he began to loathe 215Band to reject all things; and yet he did not cease always to seek in them a full joy, and he could not find it. At length therefore, coming at last to know the condition of mutable things, he saw that he had erred in both: whether in that he charged those things which in their own kind were good with being evil, or in that he supposed that those things which were transitory could stand forever. Now therefore, correcting himself for his past estimate, he professes that all things under heaven are at once both passing away with time and good in their own time. And that the mutability and fluctuation of all these may be the better understood, how great it is, he shows that all these things not only pass away with time, but also with time go over into their contraries, saying: All things have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans. And 215Che then enumerates them all, distinguishing them in their own kind: A time to be born and a time to die. First he describes the course of mutable things according to its beginning and its end, that afterwards he may pursue more carefully the mutability and vicissitude of the things that turn in the middle. Now there are four works, by which all temporal things and all things passing away with time are unfolded. The first is the work of God; the second is the work of nature; the third is the work of the craftsman together with nature; the fourth is the work of the craftsman alone, without nature. The work of God is to create the essence of things out of nothing, to dispose the matter of things into form, and to temper the motion of things under a fixed order. Therefore these three belong to the work of God, 215Dthat is, the essence of things, their form, and their order. And these three, as the author himself afterwards testifies concerning the works of God, are stable, and do not admit the mutability of time; because the essences of things never cease to be what they are, and the forms of things, according to the first institution of their Maker, keep in their kinds a perpetual identity, and the motions of things never overstep the law of the first order. For neither could the essences of things be nothing, nor the forms of things be otherwise, nor the order and disposition of things from the beginning be otherwise than they are; but all things keep the norm of the first law and the covenant of the ancient institution; never running otherwise, they all still guard them. Therefore then let the works of God abide, because that which God made is stable in 216Aall things, so that it may remain always. The work of God, therefore, is to create, to form, to dispose all things. The work of nature is to bring forth the seeds of things out of the hidden bosom by increase, and again, when the same wither and fall through failure, to call them back to the hidden bosom whence they had come forth. The work of the craftsman together with nature is to help by care and industry the things that rise from the earth. The work of the craftsman alone is to work upon the underlying matter of things, either by composing what is disjoined or by separating what is joined; so that it can neither create with God, that there be what was not, nor with nature bestow increase upon the offspring of things, so that greater be that which was less crat

There are therefore three workers in this world: God, nature, and the craftsman who imitates nature. But these three 216Bbring about what they produce to effect with very unequal power. For God in his work needs neither the work of nature nor that of the craftsman who imitates nature. For God sometimes works without nature, sometimes in nature, sometimes above nature. For without nature he first made nature itself. For when he made nature, he had no nature working with him. For that which was not yet could not itself work together with him who alone was. Thus therefore he first made nature without nature, so that afterwards, in nature, he might make some things with nature, others above nature. For with nature he makes those things which he brings forth from nature according to nature; above nature he makes, when in nature, beyond nature's accustomed course and first power, by a greater power added, 216Che brings something forth to effect. When therefore God works nature, and when he works above nature, nature does not work together with God; because there nature only receives that it should be what it was not, but here it receives that it should be able to do what it could not do out of what it had received. God therefore can work without nature; nature cannot work without God, because what nature does, it does out of that which God does, and together with that which God does. For God made the first power of nature; and that it may come forth to effect, he again himself does it together with that very nature which he makes. Everything therefore that nature does, God does; but not everything that God does, nature also does: he who without nature makes nature. In the third place there follow the works of the craftsman 216Dwho imitates nature; and he indeed sometimes works with God without nature, sometimes with nature without God, sometimes with God and with nature together, sometimes without God and equally without nature. With God he works when he works the works of justice, because God works together with a right will, one ordered according to justice. Without God he works when he works the works of iniquity, since sins are not from God, nor does that which is done against his will come to be through his cooperation. With nature the craftsman works when he applies outwardly his industry and care to the propagating of the seeds and offspring of things, to which nature supplies the increase. Without nature he works when, besides the things that look to the propagation of seeds, and to the tending of things being born 217Aand of those things that have the power of growth and of sense, he unfolds his effort upon the underlying matter, so as to advance something, whatever it be, to effect; in which nature only suffers, and does not work, because it furnishes the matter to the worker, and does not exercise the effecting of the work. Such are all the works of men that are done upon the earth, of which many the necessity of mortal life compels, many desire urges, many vanity works. And in all these, because nothing stable is found, and all things pass away that are done under the sun — those which either nature brings forth, or the craftsman imitating imitant nature fashions — the contemplator of wisdom subjects all things to vanity, proving that the works of God alone abide; since neither is a created essence ever consumed, nor is the reason of the disposition 217Bor order of things changed. Therefore he shows first the works of nature made subject to vanity, whether in those things which nature alone works, because things that rise set; or in those things which the craftsman does together with nature, because things increased grow old. Afterwards he enumerates many and diverse works of the craftsman who imitates nature: some of necessity, some of desire, some of vanity; and he subjects all to vanity, because he shows them liable to mutability. The work of nature alone is told when it is said: A time to be born and a time to die.

Then the work of the craftsman working together with nature is brought in, when it is said: A time to plant and a time to pluck up. Last of all the work of man without the work of nature is added, when it is brought in: A time to kill and a time to heal; a time to destroy and 217Ca time to build. And this is then set forth more manifoldly, with more things numbered up, that it may be plainly shown in how many things the vanity of the human heart is entangled and how widely it is scattered. For this pertained most of all to the matter: that the vanity of human minds, which follows the uncertainty of mortal life — because he had undertaken to reprove it — he should both set forth more diligently in the narrative, and set before the rest in the comparison; so that all the others might seem to have been recalled for this alone, that by comparison with them it might be recognized how great this one is. A time to be born and a time to die. It is a time to be born, when man is to be led into this life. It is a time to die, when he is to be called forth from this life. But meanwhile, after 217Dbirth and before death, while he lives in this mortal life, which needs sustenance and is nourished with food, that it may subsist. It is a time to plant and a time to pluck up, that man may till the earth from which he was taken, and sow, and reap, and plant, and gather. Now these two following things can also be compared with the two preceding by a distinction, in this way: A time to be born and a time to plant; a time to die and a time to pluck up. For when a man is born it is a time to plant, that earthly life may be fed with earthly fruits. But when a man dies, it is a time to pluck up; because when mortal life is destroyed, those things also which had been established for the sake of mortal life are taken away. And because to human infirmity, after the fruits of the earth, the use of flesh 218Ais also granted, therefore after the time to plant and the time to pluck up there is fittingly brought in also a time to kill. And because in this eating a measure is necessary, lest the flesh take for an incitement to vices what it has received for the sustaining of its infirmity, immediately after the time to kill he adds a time to heal: namely, that in all other times we may study with careful concern to nourish and preserve the life of those very animals which we have received to be killed at the opportune time — that is, when necessity demands — for the sustaining of our infirmity. For this is, as it were, to heal the ailing, by coming to their aid in those things wherein they are not sufficient for themselves, and to repair what is failing. Whence perhaps, fittingly, when he had said, A time to kill, he did not add, a time to heal 218Bwhat has been killed. As before, after he had said a time to plant, he immediately added, and a time to pluck up what has been planted. Namely because things planted can be plucked up, but things killed cannot be healed. Thus perhaps, if we follow the sense of the letter, we prejudge nothing of the spiritual understanding (which is to be traced out afterwards).

A time to destroy, and a time to build. When man ought to destroy and when to build, someone may reckon is by no means to be asked; since he may think that here this alone is shown: that man, if by chance he is subjected to various things by the events of the times, suffers these things unequally, even unwilling. But we, applying to an easier understanding these things which have been 218Csaid, can say that it is a time to kill when God, willing to punish the sins of men, brings the sword of slaughter for chastisement; but a time to heal when, cherishing again the afflicted and those wounded by the strokes of tribulations, he restores them with his wonted compassion. And plainly this may seem more consonant with truth, that here we ought to take the times of things not as those which serve the human will, but as those which obey the divine disposition. For neither is it the time of anything when man wills and God does not will. Because man often wills when it is not the time, and when God wills it is always the time. Therefore all times are referred to the divine ordinance; and it is said to be then the time of every thing, when it is justly disposed by God, 218Dwhether for the chastisement and correction of a crime, or for the consolation of infirmity. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to destroy and a time to build.

A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance. Everywhere evils are enumerated first, afterwards good things are added; because first we are justly afflicted for our sins, afterwards we are kindly cherished again by God's compassion. And it is manifest in what way human life daily suffers the vicissitude of all these things, as often as by a hidden dispensation God either instructs us with scourges or consoles us with gifts. Then there follows:

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather. But what this means according to the letter is rightly 219Aasked, since such a thing, if it be thought to have a time among human actions, seems altogether idle and unfitting. Unless perhaps it is to be understood thus: that, because he is going to say in what follows, A time of war and a time of peace, he fittingly sets before it here a time to scatter stones and a time to gather; namely, that when a time of war is at hand the stones may be gathered for building fortifications and the ramparts of walls against sieges; but in a time of peace, because no perils of wars are threatening, the mounds of the fortifications may be scattered, so that access may lie open to all without hindrance. Nor ought it to seem superfluous, on the ground that he had said above, A time to destroy and a time to build, as though the same thing were repeated a second time; because that is taken as more fittingly said of the buildings 219Bof houses and the dwellings of men, whereas this refers more properly to the defenses of walls. Yet perhaps another sense, more suitable, may be understood under these words. For because he had set before, A time to kill and a time to heal, lest perhaps it should be thought that only the evil, and those who are to be punished for their sins, are exposed to slaughter, he now shows that the just also are sometimes, by God's permitting, for an example and chastisement of the evil, subjected together with the impious and with sinners to deaths as well, and scattered by exiles and proscriptions, as is said through Peter: It is time that judgment begin at the house of God (I Petr. IV). And that by the name of stones the just are signified is manifestly shown through Jeremiah, 219Cwhen he says: The stones of the sanctuary are scattered at the head of all the streets (Thren. IV). And Isaiah again: I will make all thy walls of graven stones, all thy sons taught of the Lord (Isa. LIV) [Vulg. omnes terminos tuos in lapides desiderabiles, "all thy borders of desirable stones"]. Therefore it is a time to scatter stones, that the just may understand from the very labor of their scattering and shaking that there is no true rest in this life. And again it is a time to gather stones, that after the wearing down of bodily exile, lest they fail in mind, when peace has been restored they may again grow strong by a temporal benefit unto things eternal. Thus what is hidden can with difficulty be judged toward any one side: since the divine word for this reason dissembles itself from us in certain places, that even there where it was thought to be manifest it may show itself worthy 219Dof searching out.

Let it not therefore irk us to attempt once again the hardness of these parables, until perhaps, the bark being worn away by the use of speech, the inward parts of its word may lie open. For we are in times, and our discourse rolls along with us, until we be made stable in that which is not changed by time; and this is, that we should contemplate above all human actions, because in them is the whole of vanity, over which we groan.

A time to kill and a time to heal. What were the times of killing and the times of healing? A pitiable beginning of human actions, from slaying and 220Aslaughter. So must the work of a life given over to death have begun, so as to follow the sentiment of its author: Accursed, raging unto its own slaughter. Let us run over in mind the times past, and see the wars and slaughters made from the beginning until now, of nation upon nation and of innumerable peoples. And God bore with the human race raging against its own bowels; and in all these things he wrought his judgments, twisting the furies of men to the vindication of his justice, so that some justly suffered what others unjustly willed. And others rose up, and many were slain and were damned; and many were slain and were saved; and some were freed from the death of slaughter and were kept for damnation; and others were freed lest they be damned if they were slain. In all these he fulfilled his just judgment 220Bupon them, so as to chastise and to spare according to the governance of that equity by which God disposes all things. Therefore there is a time to kill and a time to heal; and some do what he willed, others suffer what they do not will, and the just Arbiter sits above, doing what he wills and disposing all things that he may be feared. A time to kill and a time to heal: A time to destroy and a time to build. How great things from the beginning have the lovers of this world built, and have called their own name upon their own land, that they might have a glorious fame among those who come after. For they labored with heavy labor in their works, that the monuments of their boasting might stand after them; and they prevailed to a certain point, leaving to posterity great signs of their industry; and there still appear certain traces of ruins among them, of ages 220Cgone by; and we marvel at those very men whom we do not see, that they could do such things, and we groan the more over them, because, though they themselves were men created for eternity, they loved vain things and vanished away, because they were made vain in themselves. For they themselves perished, and after them their works fell, and others came in their place; and these too did great works, and after these went into nothing; and all that they had made was destroyed together with them. And again others rose up and built, and did not understand where the former generation was, and its works, so as to see the vanity which is under the sun. And God permitted them to labor in vain, and to build things that would perish, that man might understand his own vanity; that what has been 220Dbuilt be destroyed, and again that what has been destroyed be built; and that the work of man upon the earth be not stable. Therefore all things have their time, that man may be instructed concerning his own vanity, and concerning the uncertainty of the mortal life through which he walks.

A time to weep and a time to laugh: a time to mourn and a time to dance. Weeping and laughter pertain to the mind. But mourning — or, to speak more properly, wailing — and dancing pertain to the body. By weeping, then, and by laughter, the grief and gladness of the mind are expressed; but wailing and dancing signify these same things, only when they are shown forth by the motion of the body. A time to weep, and a time to laugh: templus to wail, and a time to dance. All these things have their time among men, while this mortal life runs on; and God permits, by a varying lot and by unequal outcome, 221Aaccording to the height of his judgments and the depth of his counsel by which he disposes us, that these things should run and be varied over us, alternating prosperity with adversity, and changing adversity into prosperity in due time. And glad times come, and men laugh and dance and think it is well with them; and they often forget their Creator, and do not consider that they are to die. For they look upon present things alone, and rejoice in them as though they were to abide always; nor do they attend to their own condition and to the doubtfulness of mortal life, nor do they think of the perils that are to come upon them. And therefore they sin securely, and pour themselves out into harmful pleasures, and walk after the desires of their heart in the gaze of their eyes, so as to do what is not fitting, and to multiply wrath and indignation. And God sees this, and sows over them 221Bgriefs and bitternesses upon the wantonness of ill-sweet pleasures; and he calls back and restrains them as they flow forth, that they may not go into utter estrangement. Then comes a time to weep, and a time to wail; and men grieve, and often lay the blame upon God when it is dealt well with them. But he dissembles their depravity, and after a time mingles prosperity again with adversity, lest they fail; and again, when it is time, adversity with prosperity, lest they presume; and this he often does, nourishing and exercising, chastising and cherishing man, that he may learn to be fearful, and may know that with the Lord is the power of life and of death. Therefore there is a time to weep, and a time to laugh: a time to wail, and a time to dance. And upon these there follows a time to scatter stones, and a time to gather. This time is enumerated after those, but 221Cis ordered among them: because in time there are often together causes that lead to one reckoning of time. A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather. The whole world is an exile to those for whom heaven ought to have been the fatherland: yet the minds of mortals grow together with it by use, and men begin to love their own places, and their own lands in which they were born or reared; and a great forgetfulness of things eternal succeeds, for the sake of affection for things temporal; and unless God wiped away these ingrown sweetnesses of the passions, there was no way by which desire for him might enter in to us. Therefore he gives his judgments, and there come commotions and shakings of nations and migrations of peoples; and some rise up to snatch what is not their own, and others are plundered and scattered; and again the stronger, to whom the power has been given, when they too have come, 221Dcast out those who had violently snatched what belonged to others, and possess what is not their own; and the world fluctuates within itself, so that man may see that there is here no stable dwelling, and may accustom himself little by little to draw back his mind and loose it from the bonds of earthly delights. Therefore there comes a time to scatter stones, that there be no stable dwelling upon the earth, and that man may be forced to sigh in his exile for the fatherland, where joys remain unshaken, and the security of peace is troubled by no infestation coming upon it. This, then, is what the scattering of stones does in its own time. But because human infirmity quickly collapses, and cannot long stand unharmed amid adversities, after the time of scattering there comes a time of gathering: that by the quiet of the season it may grow strong, being admonished in this very thing 222Ato be wise, and to learn by experience how great are the joys of the rest to come; that it may hasten to that place where there is no fear of scattering, nor is the hardship of exile dreaded, to whom eternity of life in the fatherland has been given. A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather. Then again another time follows after that time; and others are named which themselves also have their time — often one time together with those times that have been spoken of, often, apart from those times, another separately in its own time.

A time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces. A time has been given to chaste embraces, that flesh may be sown for propagation, and that the harvest of the human race, which daily throughout the whole world is reaped by death, may be repaired by the care of generation. For the covenant of the first institution, by which flesh was to be taken from flesh 222Bwithout the contagion of the flesh, is after the sin of the first transgression confirmed in the flesh of sin by indulgence, not only for the fulfilling of a duty, but also for the conferring of a remedy: namely, lest the motion of the flesh, now boiling up too immoderately, should flow out more shamefully into every transgression, if it could nowhere be lawfully relaxed. A boundary is therefore prescribed, up to which the affection of the flesh may extend itself without loss of chastity: so that what is done in the chastity of matrimony by concession, even if it belong to infirmity, may yet not be imputed to shamefulness. But lest again the blandishments of pleasure turn the mind aside into forgetfulness of the Maker, by a wholesome dispensation man is sometimes suspended even from what is conceded: lest perhaps, if he gape too immoderately after these things that seem sweet in the present, he should not hasten to those things that are eternal 222C. Therefore a time to embrace has been given, and a time to be far from embraces. For a time to embrace has been given, that mortality may be repaired and the infirmity of mortals sustained; a time to be far from embraces has been given, that while the flesh is withdrawn from the delight of the flesh, the mind may be nourished unto spiritual delight. A time to embrace and a time to be far from embraces. For when the stones are gathered, it is a time to embrace; but when they are scattered, a time to be far from embraces: since for this reason the times of augustiae have been given, that the afflicted flesh may temper itself from its own delights, and that afterwards, in the time of joy and consolation, it may chastise itself with fear and reverence from excess. There are also the embraces of dear ones and the fellowships 222Dof friendly society, in which, apart from the experience of the flesh, a sweet companionship is bound together by a most welcome consent — and these too are loosed in their own time, lest the heart of man rest in man, until there come that covenant of eternal charity which is not loosed. On account of all these things there is a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces: so that in time man may not seek what is eternal, and that he who loves the society of a living man may always think of the separation of one who is to die.

A time to acquire, and a time to lose. What are the good things that are first acquired and afterwards lost? For certain good things had been lost and were afterwards acquired, so that thenceforth they could not be lost. And there were again other good things unlike the former, 223Awhich nevertheless seemed good: and there was truly something in them toward good, but not as the first good things which were true. And these good things were not the good things of man toward the true good: and man came, after he had lost the true, and acquired false good things, reckoning himself happy in them. For he willed to console himself and to have in time what eternity confers; and he gathered things that would perish, which he could not hold; and God granted this, that he might recognize the distance of the good, and be instructed by his own vanity, so as to turn himself to those things that are true. Therefore, then, God let go his heart, that he might gather together those things that cannot stand; and these very things, in their own time, he now grants to be acquired, now takes away when acquired: testing man in all his works, and showing that all things under heaven are vanity. For this a time is given 223Bto acquire, and a time to lose: that while man has obtained what he had coveted, he may learn by experience what these joys can confer upon those who greatly esteem things that perish; but when he loses what he had, he may recognize that all things which could be taken from him against his will had been foreign to him even while they were possessed.

A time to keep, and a time to cast away. Temporal goods are to be kept in their own time, as much as the necessity of temporal life demands; but because in the death of the flesh everything that belongs to the pleasantness of carnal life is of necessity lost, it is worthy that even before death it be cast away by the will from the love of the heart.

A time to rend, and a time to sew. He who rends divides what is united; but he who sews joins together what is divided and 223Cseparated. All these things this man had foreseen to be done without ceasing in the life of men, so long as it lies subject to mutability: in which life the fellowship of human converse is now to be sought after, because it seems to confer something of usefulness; and now to be fled, because often the same brings loss. Social consent, therefore, has its own sewing in its own time; the zeal of a just contradiction has also its own rending in its own time: so that both with those who wish well and with those who do good we may be united in assent and in work; but from those who love depraved things and work iniquities we may be divided in mind and equally in working. But lest perhaps this sentiment seem the same as that in which it was said above, a time to embrace and a time to be far from embraces — since in that place likewise we asserted that the conjunction and separation 223Dof social love was treated of — the things that were said there can not unfittingly be taken as signifying only love and affection, while the things that are recalled here are referred to the figuring of any fellowship whatever, or of any compact in which there is the same consent and the same pleasure of concord. Thus do the likenesses of things offer themselves for the understanding of wisdom: and wisdom herself uses her own works that she may manifest herself in us. There are many things that are said in parables and worthy of deep searching; but they do not all wish to come out, that they may always be sought within.

A time to be silent, and a time to speak. First a time to be silent, afterwards a time to speak. For wisdom goes out from 224Athe heart, nor has the tongue from anywhere else what it may rightly bring forth, unless understanding first form the word. Therefore first there is a time to be silent, after that a time to speak: so that first, in silence, shrewd thought may gather wisdom into itself, before the tongue afterwards sends it forth by word to the hearing of others. For this reason too there is a time to be silent and a time to speak, since the hearers of the word sometimes receive it with desire and love, but sometimes without reverence despise it by casting it away. Wherefore it is a time to be silent, when we see hearers in every way impatient of admonition; but a time to speak, when we see that they either desire the word or at least are willing to bear it. For this reason also there is a time to be silent, because in those things which we cannot discuss we ought not 224Bto presume. And likewise a time to speak: because as for other things that we can comprehend, it is necessary, for the instruction of our neighbors, not to keep silent. Whence not only the works of men, but their words also, follow the uncertainty of fleeting life, so that vanity occupies the whole and nothing stable or constant is left: since we can neither always say what we know, nor always retain what we have learned; and now it may be harmful to have kept silent the things that ought to have been said, but now it may be a fault to have said the things that ought to have been kept silent. Likewise we often cannot when we will, and we do not will to be wise when we can; but more often we ought not to do either, when we do it. In this there is great uncertainty, and the gloom of a deep ignorance: so that man is tossed from time to time, and does not understand his own time in all his work 224C.

A time of love, and a time of hatred. Many are the things that are loved in this world, and likewise very many that are hated. And in all the things that are loved, few love truth; and in those that are hated, few hate iniquity. For this reason men love, and often think that they love well, and love ill: because in the things they love they do not love truth, nor do they love them on account of truth. Likewise very many practice hatreds, and boast of their zeal for justice and equity; and within there lurks strife in the heart, and a savage fury feeding itself on unjust hatred. And therefore love and hatred cannot at the first discern their own time: because they do not follow the judgment of justice and truth, but are borne by their own inclination into depraved appetites, so that they do what they will. 224DThey love and they hate, they cherish and they are zealous, often for things they ought not, often when they ought not; and there comes a great confusion of love and hatred, and the heart is scattered into universal vanity, fleeing the things that are right and coveting the things that are depraved. Therefore a time of love and of hatred has been set before man: that he may understand and discern when, out of those things which according to the time can be good and evil, he ought either to seek after something or to turn aside from it. For outside the times there are certain things which are not changed by time so as to be able to be otherwise: and among these there are good things and evil. And the things that are good are eternal, so that they are always good; and the things that are evil are likewise eternal, so that they are always evil. It is not of those that it is said to thee: A time of love, and a time of hatred. For to those belongs eternal love, and eternal 225Ahatred: since the things that are to be loved are there always to be loved, and the things that are to be hated are always to be hated. But meanwhile, now in time, while all things are uncertain, the things that meet us as we pass by change themselves according to the time, so that what had stood as fortunate for one gives way into evil for another; and what this man has grieved over as adverse, that man recognizes as having turned out happily for himself. Therefore in all these things that pass away with time there is a time of love and a time of hatred: so that man may not fix his heart upon them either by love or by hatred; things which, when held in hatred, can again be justly loved, and, when loved, can again be justly held in hatred.

A time of war, and a time of peace. On account of the time to kill, a time of war is ordained; on account of the time to heal, 225Ba time of peace follows. And that was the first, but this was recalled last of all: so that the beginning and the end may be enclosed with all the labors and perils that lie between; so that the life of man, which passes through only to cease, may never be safe. For man went out that he might withdraw and not stand with God; and he made a covenant of love with the pleasure of this world, that he might rest in it. And God would not endure that covenant, that man should abide in estrangement; and he raised up against him the things he had perversely loved, that they might oppose and afflict him; and there came about for man a war with all things that are in the world, that he might find grief and affliction in them until he return to peace with God. Then all things will compose themselves to peace with him, so that the things that had been adverse to the exalted may be subject 225Cto the humble. For at the first all things had been at peace, just as at the last all things will be pacified: so that in the middle the things that pass may run their course by an uncertain lot; until they come to this, that either, for one falling under judgment, all things be adverse forever, or, happily, consummation, all things be made subject. For where hatred will be eternal, there will also be perpetual war; and where there will be eternal love, there everlasting peace will stand fast. Nor will it be said there, a time of peace and a time of war, just as it will not be said, a time of love and a time of hatred: but there will be war, and peace; war without end, and without end peace. Let not man therefore reckon that war greatly to be feared to which peace can succeed; nor that peace true which a war following after can disturb: because all things that pass away are to be reckoned vain in this very thing, that in 225Dgood, and likewise in evil, they cannot always remain.

What more has man from his labor? Therefore the labor of man runs in uncertainty: because he cannot have more from his labor, lest man be content with those things that consist in his own labor; because all things are vanity, and pass away with time, to be ended with time.

But now it is time that, after the running through of the times according to the things that roll outwardly in time, we should also call to mind the spiritual understanding. For little by little 226Athe discourse of wisdom advances toward the touching of spiritual things, that it may draw the exercised mind to inward things. We distinguished above, then, two lives: one according to the flesh, the other according to the spirit. Now the carnal life is prior in time, in that every man is born in the flesh before he is reborn in the spirit; and everyone who lives in the flesh either walks according to the flesh and has not yet attained the spiritual life, or walks according to the spirit and has renounced the carnal life. Wherefore every spiritual man has been made spiritual out of a carnal man; but not every carnal man has been made carnal out of a spiritual man. For the carnal life is always either alone or first, so that every man either holds it alone, so as never to begin the spiritual life, or, having had it first, exchanges it by a following pursuit of the spiritual life 226B. Each of these two lives has its own followers: the carnal indeed those who love the joys of the present life; the spiritual those who seek out the pleasantness of the life to come. Of these, the former cherish the flesh with the blandishments of earthly delights, while the latter exercise the spirit by the pursuit of virtues in the hope and desire of things to come. With these two peoples the world runs down to its end through the mutability of the times, until it come that by the appointed covenant of justice the judgment of both be made. For it pleased God, that he might show the riches of the glory to come upon the vessels of mercy, to lead along also the vessels of wrath in forbearance through a temporal mercy; and likewise to exercise those same vessels of mercy, that justice and truth may be fulfilled, meanwhile now with the troubles of temptations: so that every life may have 226Cboth what it may receive freely of mercy, lest goodness be left unknown, and what it may feel as strict of justice, that truth may be made manifest. Therefore God set before every man both good things and evils, that he might show forth both, namely mercy and truth: the one, by which without merit he freely bestows a benefit; the other, by which for evil merit he repays a worthy punishment. Therefore he disposed that man should receive both; and he left it in man's power which he would first receive. But he set a condition of choosing upon both, lest perhaps depraved concupiscence be excusable: so that if man chose temporal goods in this life for his pleasure, he should not be able to obtain the eternal; and if he willingly submitted himself here to the scourge of chastisement in the judgment of truth, in the 226Dlife to come he should not feel the torments of damnation. Now the reprobate, who love the temporal life and set its pleasantness before the joys of the everlasting life, embrace present goods with all their desire, and set all their happiness in them; but the elect patiently endure temporal griefs, that they may be able to come to the joys of eternity that have been promised; and in regard to those joys, whatever is transitory, if it seem bitter, they do not fear; if sweet, they do not covet. Whence it comes about that the lovers of the carnal life have good things first and afterwards receive evils; but the spiritual are first exercised with adversities and afterwards attain to good things. To the former the first things are good, the last evil; to the latter the first things evil, the last good. But because 227Aagain all things that pass away in time are confused and mingled, so that they keep no order, whether from good into evil or from evil into good, therefore now meanwhile between the beginning and the end a manifold vicissitude runs in: namely, that now after good things evils, now after evils good things, should befall by an uncertain lot both the evil and the good alike. All these things, while Ecclesiastes was setting forth a certain distinction concerning the rolling of the times and the vicissitude of the things that are varied in time, he carefully expressed for an example of all things, that he might show the lot of both the good and the evil together, and their advance running into contraries. For when he had said that all things that are under heaven are varied by the turning of time and are borne into contraries, he subjoined examples, and enumerated many things out of all, that 227Bthe nature of all might lie open. And among those things which he enumerated, there are certain in which good things and evils are recalled - which indeed in which evils and good things, so that the state and condition both of the carnal and of the spiritual may alike be recognized. For there are seven in which good things are first recalled, afterwards evils; and again seven in which evils are first spoken of, afterwards good things, so that the whole may run down on either side unto the end. For by the number seven this whole present life is expressed, which rolls on by the course of seven days unto its own end. The evil, therefore, have their sevenfold number, and the good likewise have their own sevenfold number; because this whole life of the evil is from good into evil, and the whole life of the good from evil into good, of those going cuntium. Of which 227Clife the beginning of the evil is in good and the end in evil; but of the good the beginning is in evil and the end in good, with the middle things fluctuating by turns. For the middle things are uncertain: and for this reason also that which has been set in the middle has been pronounced doubtfully, whether from good into evil or from evil into good. For the middle was a time to scatter stones and a time to gather: and this itself has received an ambiguous exposition, signifying either of war or of peace, so that the middle things may be left uncertain. For if in this the thing that is said first is evil, and what comes afterwards good, then there will be eight of those in which evils are named first and good things afterwards, and six in which good things are recalled first and evils afterwards; because the life of the good rightly passes over to the number of beatitude, while the intention of the evil, together with their life, does not exceed the labor of temporality. Thus the truth is 227Done, whithersoever you may twist the sentiment by interpretation. There are many other things which perhaps might fittingly have been said in this enumeration or distinction. But we, avoiding weariness as far as is possible, let us come to the setting forth spiritually of the things that have been said.

All things have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans. If man had persisted in obedience to the commandment, he would not be of the number of those things which have their time under heaven and pass away. For if he had not flowed down in mind through iniquity, he would have remained stable in body also through immortality. Nor would he then be under heaven, so as to be rolled about with the things that pass away with time; but cleaving to the highest and true good, he would not be subjected 228Ato the moments of the times, being fixed by contemplation in the solidity of things eternal. For eternity itself was the heaven, where, fixed in mind, he could not be changed by time; because, lifted above the times, he looked down upon all things gliding away beneath him. But after he turned aside his heart, so as to subject it through concupiscence to mutable things, then, as though fallen from heaven, he began to flow downward together with the things to which he clung, and, led through the rollings of his own mutability, to feel the moments of the times. Hence the human mind was made liable to times, so that in it now evils have their turn along with good things — the mind which good things alone before possessed, quiet and unshaken, without vicissitude. Therefore all things have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans, so that he too who through love subjected himself 228Bto mutable things, agitated by the law of others with the waves of his own mutability, cannot stand at rest. Thus therefore the times came into the human heart, when many desires entered introicrunt into it, and mutability began to hold sway there; and some came and others departed, and there arose a great fluctuation and inconstancy. For now the invisible world was rolling along with the visible world, and the moments of the times began to run their course within it, and there began to be years, and months, days and nights, sowings and harvests, rains and droughts, fruitfulnesses and barrennesses. For all these things are carried out in the nature of spiritual beings, the likeness of corruptible things having been brought in by the harm of sin, so that a nature made for eternity, wrongly associated with that which passes away temporally, likewise fails into alteration. For the shoots 228Cof the virtues rise from the first root, and go on to grow and to come to the effect of consummation. And against them come the risings of vices and the cockle sown over them; and they lift themselves up to choke the things that are right, that they may not prosper; and there comes a great expectation, and a heavy peril mingled with hope and with fear. For if God pour out the rain of grace and the droppings of his truth upon a thirsting soul, there rises a harvest of virtues with manifold increase; and years of fruitfulness come, and calm seasons shine out, the cloud of ignorance being driven away. But if in anger he take away his benefits, and hold back his blessing that he may exercise his judgments, then sad seasons follow, and the good genimima wither in the drought, and the thistles and thorns of vices are multiplied for labor and grief to sinful 228Dman. And in all these things the sinful soul suffers its own times, looking out upon the heaven above, which it has lost, unmoved in its eternity, while it itself is rolled downward, temporal; and in it all things which cannot stand pass through by their own spans and measures. And therefore all things have their time, and all things under heaven pass away in their own spans.

A time to be born and a time to die. This is the lot of sinners in time: that if by chance any good things are born in them, afterwards they die, and do not persevere unto the end. For sometimes even in the evil some good things are born, and begin as it were to rise and put forth a shoot; but once born they soon dry up, because they have no moisture. For they believe for a time, and in the time 229Aof temptation they fall away, so that they have a time and do not come through to eternity. A time to be born and a time to die. For the depraved there is a time to be born in good, when through a sudden fervor of mind they begin some right things; but there follows them straightway a time to die, because, not having perseverance in the good, by the same lightness of mind with which they had begun, in the time of impending pressure they abandon the good things begun.

A time to plant and a time to pluck up. Good things are planted in the evil, when through exhortation or right admonition they sometimes take up good things; but they are plucked up afterwards, when, shaken by a depraved suggestion, they lose the good things they had begun. They are born, therefore, by their own will; they are planted by another's admonition; but they die when by their own desires 229Bthey grow lukewarm toward the good; they are plucked up when they fall by another's supplanting. And in all these things the evil have their own times, in which by a just judgment they are disposed, whether to this or to that; and everywhere good things go before, and evils follow after for those foreseen unto evil. Then follows the life of the good, in which evils go before that good things may follow after, and those very evils that run before work together unto good.

A time to kill, a time to heal. In the elect the old man is first killed, and the carnal life which lives according to the affection of the flesh; then he is healed who according to the spirit is the new man, that he may live unto God.

A time to destroy and a time to build. Every man first makes an evil building, when 229Che works in the flesh, and daily adds evils to evils, so that a depraved building rises; and this must be destroyed and overthrown in those who are saved, that justice may be built in them.

A time to weep and a time to laugh. First a man ought to weep for the depraved things he himself has committed, that afterwards he may laugh securely in the good things he has received from God. For unless a preceding weeping wash the conscience in contrition, in vain does laughter exult over the things that are glad outwardly, without inward pleasantness.

A time to mourn, or to wail, and a time to dance. First the flesh ought in penitence to be afflicted with torments for its depraved delight, afterwards to be exercised in good works in the pursuit of virtues. Thus assuredly the life of the just is instructed by griefs, and is prepared by punishments for joys, that 229Dit may come clean to its own fruit; and its evils always go before that they may pass away, and its good things are deferred to the end that they may remain without end. And we can consider in this narrative a certain order of the correcting and amending of a soul that is to be justified. For the first of all is that in him who is corrected the depraved will be slain, and then the good, either infirm, be healed sanctur, or dead, be made alive. For what lives ill is well killed; and what is ill infirm is well healed. After the will has been changed, the ill-built mass of depraved works is destroyed, and the pursuits of good works, scattered by long negligence, are rebuilt. Then, for past fault, weeping follows, which, when it has cleansed the conscience with a fountain of tears, 230Ais at last changed into the laughter of consolation and into joy. There follow also in penitence wailings, or mournings, when the grief of the mind is carried on even to the affliction of the flesh, so that afterwards, with the exultation of the mind, the flesh also, though worn down, may be gladdened by its own consolation

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather. If by stones we understand the strong works of the virtues, what else ought we to understand in the scattering of stones but the multiplication of good works? For to scatter stones is to offer far and wide, to the knowledge of many, the examples of strong works. But to gather stones is, after the pursuit of labor, to receive the fruit of good works. It is therefore a time to scatter stones, and again a time to gather stones; because a man ought first to exercise himself in good works in the pursuits of the active life 230B, that he may be able afterwards to receive the fruit of his own work in the taste of contemplation. And because that taste is most pleasant to those who enjoy it and full of the highest delight, so that it seems to excel all the things that can be loved, there is fittingly subjoined at once:

A time to embrace. For there are certain embraces of wisdom and delightful bonds of inward love: when the mind, admitted within, lays hold of the joy of its own love, and, binding it fast with certain arms of its desires, makes a covenant and demands a compact of perpetual abiding. But because mortal life is quickly cut off and driven back from the sight of the inward light by the gloom of its own darkness, and by the mutability of its own condition is separated from the fellowship of eternal stability, 230Cthere is fittingly subjoined:

A time to be far from embraces. For after the time to embrace there follows a time to be far from embraces; because the human mind, although sometimes, lifted up by grace, it is admitted to the touch of inward dulcedidinis, yet, soon pressed by the weight of its own infirmity, slips back again to earthly things and to its accustomed thoughts. Although this sentiment may seem to belong particularly to the evil, in that it recalls as it were prosperous and good things at its beginning, but adverse things at its end, yet let it suffice to have observed this distinction in the preceding six which we have expounded, so that we may apply the rest that follow rather to a general signification. For one thing is noted by the disposition, and another is expressed by the signification; because the disposition 230Dof the order suggests as it were a distinction of persons, whereas the signification shows by the sentiment of things only the truth. Therefore what is told of the evil only, or of the good, with the order of speaking changed, is not unfittingly taken without distinction of the good and the evil alike, so that sometimes this even belongs rather to the good according to the signification, which, so far as pertains to the order of the narrative, shows forth the life of the reprobate. Yet we can also take this very thing as not unfittingly said of any of the reprobate: who, even if they sometimes seem to draw near, as it were, to the embrace of wisdom, by the love of the good according to a certain affection having the appearance of virtue, yet because they do not divide their mind from carnal 231Adesires and earthly cupidities, quickly slipping back to their accustomed ways, in that very thing wherein they seemed to have drawn near, they are made far off. As therefore the elect are for a time held back from the embrace of the highest truth, that by the very deferring of it they may burn the more with desire of it, and at last may more fully grasp what they have desired, so the reprobate too are for a time in a certain manner permitted — that they may see whereby they are confounded, and that malice may not be excused — to approach to the touching of it by some knowledge. But this is the difference: that the just and the elect, after they have tasted the sweetness of the inward good, are for this reason for a time driven back, that they may burn the more with desire; whereas the reprobate, after they have recognized the truth, are cast away, that from that very knowledge they may take against themselves the testimony of their own damnation. The former, then, are admitted 231Band driven back that they may be provoked; the latter are admitted and cast away that they may be confounded. Thus the philosophers of the gentiles were admitted in very great part; but they did not touch wisdom from near at hand, nor did they draw her to themselves that they might fully enjoy her sweetness. For they saw and knew, and thought that they loved; but it was a foreign love from far off, commending her appearance, but not drinking in her sweetness. From afar, as with arms stretched out and hands spread wide, they wished to make an embrace; and the beloved was not between the breasts, that he might be strongly held fast, and make delay, and abide; and therefore quickly and swiftly he fled from them, nor could he be held back by a love that was a stranger. The beloved fled, then. But the beloved does not flee that he may escape; rather he only hides himself, and conceals himself for the provoking of love, 231Cthat he may be sought in desire and not found, until he be most ardently loved. And often he returns again as though about to abide, and offers himself to be experienced; and after a little he slips away again, reserving the fruit for hereafter. And in all these things there is a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to acquire, and a time to lose. When is it a time to acquire, save when it is a time to embrace? And again, when is a time to lose, save when it is a time to be far from embraces? For when the beloved is present, the increase of all the virtues is multiplied, and the inner house is filled with abundance and richness. Then barren things bear 231Dfruit, and the things that had withered are fattened with fruitfulness, and the soul itself marvels at the riches it possesses. Holy affections blaze, and chaste desires, while adverse motions are lulled to sleep; and whatever had been wont to fight back, or to stand in the way importunately, is made far off, so that all things are at peace and quiet. The power of doing well is supplied according to one's wish, and the abundance of a rich will overflows even to the multiplication of holy works. This therefore is a time to acquire, when holy merits are heaped up, and the wages of good works are multiplied in the treasuries of eternal riches. But lest perhaps continual increase should in some measure cast down the human heart through elation, there follows a time to lose: that while by a wholesome dispensation the increase of the virtues is taken from him for a time, he may be the better 232Amade solid in virtue through humility. And thus the holy mind, resting within in the embrace of wisdom, is increased with the riches of the virtues; but outwardly, scattered through occupation, it is pinched with want and worn thin by poverty: just as, on the contrary, carnal men gather by their labor riches that will perish, and when they have begun to be at leisure for the embraces of pleasures, they soon consume the same by living idly and luxuriously. We can also fittingly take the times of acquiring and the times of losing in another understanding. For there are two lives, namely the active and the contemplative: of which the one, that is the active, in the pursuit of good works gathers by laborious exercise the gains of holy merits; but the other, that is the contemplative, in the knowledge of truth peccata rests by love. Which lives indeed we rightly understand to have been signified by 232Bthe two wives of Jacob, namely Leah and Rachel: of whom the one, that is Leah, is said to have been of bleared eyes indeed, but fruitful; whereas the other, that is Rachel, is reported to have been of beautiful eyes, but barren. For the active life is fruitful in the offspring of good work, but the contemplative is clear-sighted in the knowledge of truth. And because in each life the virtue of the saints is exercised by turns, and is turned about by a kind of alternating change — namely, that now its patience is proved in the labor of work, now its desire is refreshed in the sweetness of contemplation — rightly is it now said: A time to acquire, and a time to lose. For it is a time to acquire when the devout mind multiplies in the pursuit of good work the gains of merits, and then as it were a time to lose follows, 232Cwhen for love of inmost quiet it willingly bears the losses of working. For as it were willingly it sets aside the riches of good work, that it may be able to rest, even with little, in the sweetness of contemplation. Yet from this nothing of its merits is diminished, which it earns more by the very desire and love of the highest good than by the pursuit of work. A time to acquire, and a time to lose. Concerning any of the perverse it is a settled thing: that if at any time they acquire something of good by acting rightly, they quickly lose it, because they have no perseverance in the good begun. To whom assuredly the time of acquiring could profit nothing, because for them there followed the time of losing the things acquired. And these a greater loss often follows in this very thing, because for the things they have acquired they swell up, but for the things they lose they are not humbled.

232DA time to keep and a time to cast away. There is a time that God should keep his elect from temptation, because perhaps they might have been broken by adversities; and again there is a time to cast away, that when they are to be exercised with troubles he may, as though angry, wholesomely expose them for a time to temptation. But God also often keeps the evil safe and quiet in this life from the troubles that press upon others, that afterwards in judicie he may cast them away the more heavily, the more patiently he bears them here also, while he protects his adversaries. But man himself too ought to keep many things for a time, which afterwards in their own time he should cast away: things which, kept in their own time, can bring aid to him who keeps them; and again, unless in their own 233Atime they be cast away, can make a hindrance. For earthly substance is rightly to be kept for a time and for the sustaining of the flesh; and again in its own time, if peril to the soul is known to stand in it, it is without doubt to be cast away. There are also many things in spiritual discipline and in the pursuit of virtues which for a time one must now keep, now cast away: lest perhaps, if a work of virtue be done without discretion, that very thing be reckoned to fault which might have been counted for merit. For all things are changed with time, and there is not anything that always remains the same; and therefore he who lives under time ought to weigh the causes and outcomes of all things against their times.

A time of rending, and a time of sewing. Everyone who lives in the flesh according to the flesh is, through the affection of the flesh, 233Bas it were one with those things which the flesh covets. It is necessary therefore that the man who is turned from carnal things to spiritual should first be torn away in mind from those things to which he had clung by affection. For then indeed he freely glues himself to spiritual things by love, when nothing is left over of earthly affections to turn his mind aside into alien desires. And so it is a time of rending, that first a man may tear his mind away from earthly desires; afterward a time of sewing, that in mind, through spiritual love, he may begin to cleave to eternal and abiding goods. Nor does this seem to be passed over, that the things which are rent are substantially one; whereas the things which are sewn are indeed essentially diverse, but by the mediating bond of the thread become as it were accidentally one. For so every 233Cman is united to corruptible and perishable things by nature, but is made a partaker of eternal things by grace. For thus human things and divine are sewn into one, so that what had been two by nature become one by grace. Compunction indeed is the needle itself, and love the thread; and the needle makes the way, and pierces both, that the thread may hold both together. For the sewing could not have been made otherwise, unless both were bored through and both held together, since the one would depart from the other, and would easily divide itself from unity, if the bond did not hold both. For this reason the needle of compunction pierces both, and the thread of love binds both together, that they may stand together and not depart from one another. For the needle of compunction pierces human things 233Dwhen it pursues fault; it pierces divine things when it searches out the hidden things of eternal things. For thus compunction stands twofold, and there is an upper watering and a lower watering (Josue, XV). Through the upper watering divine things are pierced, and through the lower watering human things are pierced. For through the compunction which rises from fault the sinful conscience is transfixed; and through the compunction which rises from the desire of eternal things the hidden things are penetrated. The one subtly penetrates the conscience, that it may drive out harmful things; the other by deep consideration searches out invisible things, that it may lay hold of the things it loves. So both are bored through, and both are transfixed: the one by grief, by which guilt is rooted out, the other by desire, by which the things coveted are sought out. After these follows the thread of love: 234Aby which on both sides the bond of unity is effected, so that things thenceforth joined may not be separated from one another. For love rises on both sides, and the bond of love runs together into one, because the human mind, looking back, sees there how great things have been entrusted to it through mercy; but considering divine things, it contemplates in them how great things have been promised it unto glory. And it loves both, and the knot of charity is made in both, because mercy is sweet unto glory, and glory pleasant unto mercy. And the love of these cannot be separated, because the sewing has been made, and the bonds of eternal charity stand firm. The time of rending therefore was then, but now is the time of sewing.

A time of keeping silence, and a time of speaking. He that heareth, saith the Scripture, let him say: Come (Apoc. XXII). For he who 234Bfirst opens the ear of the heart by obedience to the word of God, he afterward rightly looses his tongue to speak to his neighbor. For he who has not first learned by obedience to keep silence before another in the word of edification is convicted of lying under blame, if he himself presumes to teach others. Therefore first is the time of keeping silence, that a man may learn what he is to teach; and then the time of speaking, that he who has now known the truth may not blush to speak it in its own time. For each is a fault: namely, both when a man rashly presumes what he ought not, and when through negligence he is sluggish about that which he ought. And therefore we must first beware lest we commit unlawful things, and afterward take pains lest we neglect what is due. A time of keeping silence, and a time of speaking. Times succeed one another, and a time comes after times.

234CA time of love, and a time of hatred. If anyone shall say that in the time of love there is a time of speaking, and that in the time of hatred there is a time of keeping silence, so that what is holy be not given to dogs, nor pearls cast before swine (Matth. VII), but that the just man set his finger upon his mouth when the days are evil, and be dumb when the sinner stands against him: has not justice therefore come upon the earth, that sinners may be reproved, and that the wicked may be converted, lest they perish? For this reason times are ambiguous, since it belongs to them to run their course into uncertainty. Yet nothing is without a time, whether it be love or hatred. For love has its time, and hatred its time. For to him who is commanded to love his neighbor as himself, to the same it is said that he should hate himself. 234DWhence it stands that he who loves God as himself, when in God he loves his neighbor: so, against God, he does not know how to love even himself. There is therefore a time of love, and a time of hatred, so that we who for God's sake strive to love our enemies, when God's cause is injured, may not presume to love even our friends. There is yet another love, and another hatred: that each man both love his own flesh, and that in those things which are necessary for sustaining its weakness, and hate it in those things which demand depraved desires. And so there is a time of love, and a time of hatred, since it behooves us, so long as we live under the defect of this mortality and carry the contradiction of sin in our flesh, to weigh with great discretion applied, when we ought by compassion to cherish our failing nature, lest it fall away, and when again 235Ato press down by afflicting it the motion of vices rising up in the flesh, lest it grow strong. For it is written: No man ever hated his own flesh (Ephes. V). And again it is said: Make not provision for the flesh in its desires (Rom. XIII). Whence it is plainly shown that the flesh is both to be loved, so far as pertains to compassion for nature, and again, so far as regards the chastisement of fault, to be hated. And because in this there is need of a great governance of discretion, a time of love and of hatred is prescribed, so that walking along the middle boundary we may neither smother nature while we pursue fault, nor nourish fault when we cherish nature. But because this cannot be done without great toil and heavy wrestling, there is subjoined: A time of war, and a time of peace, that a man may at once acknowledge both that no one without a fight 235Bcomes through to victory, and that he who lawfully strives rests in peace after victory is obtained. For the time of peace is set after the time of war for this reason, that he who could be broken by the weight of the struggle may be consoled by the gift of peace. A time of war, and a time of peace. There are three who stir up war against us: namely the devil, and the world, and our flesh. For Paul knew that he had all these as enemies, who asserted that he had undertaken a fight against them all. For he testified that the fight against demons was continual for him, equally with all the faithful, when he said: For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood: but against the powers and principalities; against the rulers of these darknesses, against the spiritual things of wickedness in the heavenly places (Eph. VI). Again against the world, that 235Cis, perverse men, lovers of the world, he asserted that there had been a fight for him, who related that he had fought against beasts at Ephesus (I Cor. XV). Likewise he testifies that against his own flesh there is for him a ceaseless fight, saying: So I fight, not as one beating the air; but I chastise my body, and bring it into servitude: lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself become a reprobate (I Cor. IX). There are therefore three tyrants who lead forth their armies into battle against us: and each has his own battle lines drawn up for making war upon the soul. The devil indeed draws up columns of suggestions against the faithful soul; the world brings forth prosperity and adversity to overcome us; but the flesh, stirring up crowds of carnal desires, rises up into battle against us. But against all these 235Dthe faithful soul must contend manfully, and, fortified by God's protection, must ply the javelins of the virtues to war down the forces of the adverse power. For we conquer the devil, if with perseverance we refuse to receive his suggestions. We conquer the world, if we both steadfastly despise its prosperity and patiently endure its adversities. And we conquer the flesh, if we do not consent to its depraved desires. But enemies once conquered do not at once cease, so that there might be peace continually; but they attempt again, and again they contrive, and try how they can: and often, as if daring, though they are timid, they themselves make an assault with terror, that they may test what spirit is in us; often they lay ambushes, and advance secretly to explore, 236Aand hide themselves, and wish to be hidden, until they come upon us unforeseen. And in all these things many perils arise, and daily circumspection, and fear on every side: and there comes to be a great war, and a long-lasting struggle, until our side grows strong in every way, and they, despairing utterly, cease and depart from their hope; so that they may either be frightened away from us, or be subjected to our dominion. For this also will come to pass without doubt, if we have not failed from our hope and from good patience, that at length a full and entire peace may be restored after the labor of the struggle is completed. For then the devil shall be put to flight from us by divine power, so that he dare not presume against us; but terrified he shall flee, and depart into confusion. The world too itself, which was wont to rage in its commotions, 236Bshall be pacified, and the desires of the flesh, the spirit being strengthened, shall be lulled asleep. Then in the time of our peace we shall remember the ancient times, when there was war, and we shall not then repent: but we shall be glad, and shall exult for the days in which we saw evils; and there shall be sweet peace in thanksgiving for past labors. For this reason there is a time of war, and a time of peace

What hath a man more of his labor? What has he more than war and peace, love and hatred, and all the other things which the wheel of its own turning brings forth as the outcome of times? He has therefore no more of his labor than war and peace: since by this labor of his he cannot bring it about that he have peace 236Calone. Therefore neither by his labor does he have peace, just as by his will he does not have war. For all things follow the nod of the supernal disposition: nor are the moments of times subject to human choice, that this or that should come to pass; but man suffers the law in all things, whether willing, unto merit, or unwilling, unto torment. Man ought not therefore to trust in his labor, nor to place hope in his own deeds, as though he could himself either effect what has not been ordained from above, or hinder what has been disposed. For the labor of man can add nothing to the sum of things, that there should be anything more: because the just moderation of the Artificer has so disposed all things in equity, that everything which strives without his co-operation, deserting the order of the universe, is moved rather toward not-being.

• 236D

Just now we have come out from the times, but would that we had come through to eternity! For many things still remain, and very many are rolled about us: and again the times repeat their circuit on every side, so that there is no end until all things shall have been consummated. For upon the mutability of things there follows a grievous confusion of minds: since hearts go along upon the rollings and passings of times, so that they do not stand in truth, but flow away with the things which go that they may pass. Therefore he ceases from all these things which totter without, and fluctuate, as though all these were small and not working greatly unto peril: and he turns himself inward, and there redoubles his complaint concerning the vanity 237Awhich is hidden: and he examines that one with grievous expostulation over the one which appears without as alien. For the mutability of things would not have harmed, if the mutability of minds had not been: since this very thing was good, that transitory things should change their appearance for a time, but it was not good that the judgments of human minds should desert truth. And so we do not lay the blame that times are various, since it is good: but we lay the blame that human judgments are various: since this is not good. For truth cannot of itself be other: because what is good in truth is not evil: and what is not good in truth, is evil. Why therefore is it judged that this is good, and this is evil; and is it judged that this is evil, and this is good: when in truth either 237Bit is not good, if it is evil, or it is not evil, if it is good. One says, It is good, and another says, It is evil: and he who says, This is good, says That is evil: and he who says This is evil, says That is good: and all speak ill, because the whole is good. But this alone is not good, that they speak ill of that which is good. Wherefore all things are good: and those alone are evil who beyond all the rest ought to have been good. For all the rest are what they ought to have been, and they alone are not what they ought to have been: because they are not truthful, and are not in truth; and therefore all things are good in that which they are, but they themselves are not good in that which they are, because they are not what they ought to have been. This therefore, among the other vanities, is itself also reckoned for a great vanity, 237Cand alone is set before all vanities by comparison. And he says:

I saw the affliction which God gave to the sons of men, that they should be distended in it. For what is that affliction?

He hath made all things good in their time: and he hath delivered the world to their disputation; that man may not find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. Therefore the mutability of things does not afflict man, but his own disputation afflicts him. And rightly: because disputation always signifies restlessness and struggle. And therefore the mutability of things is not man's labor; but that he himself has been made restless, this is his labor. And that restlessness itself is the great disputation 237Dwhich man has in his own instability, so that he does not feel the same thing: since he is divided, and made another, so that he is not one whole. Consider now the great disputation which man carries on upon the earth. For it is much, and long, and exceedingly involved: so that it cannot easily have an end, until man himself receives his end. And now, that you may believe, see how many sentiments concerning the works of God those curious of wisdom have formed from the beginning: and there has been no one until now who could impose an end upon this so great business. And they wrangle still daily, and fight with struggles as they dispute: and one says This is so, and another says It is not, but it is otherwise; and many things are said, and lies of opinions are feigned as though wrought by craft concerning the judgment of things. And very many assert 238Athat there is nothing except that very thing which is seen, and others come, and testify that nothing truly is except that very thing which is not seen. And in all these things they heap up and multiply their arguments, and weave reasons, and as it were reasons: and each man's reason is his own estimation. For God has set forth his work before the eyes of men, that he may question their hearts concerning it: and he himself lies hidden behind, until they may make trial of our exercise in it. And they draw with sense, and judge with heart, and bring forth very many things out of the treasury of their judgments, and out of the deep abyss of their fantasies, and of their false opinions and empty thoughts. And some say that nature alone is, and there is nothing else; and God is nothing, but empty fear has devised all things; and so it always was, 238Bwhat is from the beginning, and before the beginning without beginning. And the ages revolve, and nature works itself, and renews itself, and cannot be other than it always was. Others on the contrary cry out and wrangle for the wrong done to the Creator, and think that they defend him whom they themselves assail with their lies. They say that there is a craftsman who from matter co-eternal with himself has fashioned all things, that he might give a better form; and these men do not know the power of the Creator, but deny that anything has been made from nothing: and they deny that any of these things which are can slip back into nothing: but that the Founder's work consists only in the alterations of things. After these others follow, wrangling and disputing, and they promise to take away error and to make truth manifest; and these themselves confess that all things were made from nothing, and that he was not made 238Cthrough whom all things were made; and that there was once a time when nothing was created, and that then he was who always was. And these men have in their teachings as it were a good beginning, but an evil end follows. For those who think as it were truly concerning the creation of things, lie exceedingly concerning the subsistence of things, and there is no end of the disputations and inventions of men. They feign essences, and forms, and atoms, and ideas of the principal constitutions, and very many elements, and infinite births, and invisible motions and procreative efficiencies. And in all these things the likenesses of reasons are multiplied, and very many disputations are made, and truth is not in them all. For likewise he who speaks, speaks falsely, and he who contradicts, 238Dspeaks falsely, because by disputing and by lying they have all by one vanity gone far away from truth. For neither shall man be able to find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. Out of all the things which have been made from the beginning and which are to be made unto the end, man will not be able to find any one thing so as to comprehend it, and know the whole of what it is. For even if certain men seem to have found very many things, all things had been set forth, and the things which were hidden could in no way be found. For God delivered the world to their disputation, and set before them his works, that they might see them and judge. And in these he manifested many things which he willed to be known, and the things which he willed to be hidden could not be found. Therefore God manifested in them all the things which are known; and man did not find them 239Aby his own sense, until they were revealed in him so far as God willed. For certain things were set forth without, and certain things were revealed within, and man found nothing, so as to go by his own sense to those things which were hidden, until they were made manifest in him. And if he should wish to contend that he himself found some things, could he nevertheless find all the things which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end? And in the very things which he found, could he find the whole of what was, and did there not remain over something hidden and secret to which his sense was not admitted, so that he might find the whole? For if man had found the whole, there would be no disputation at all, nor would opinions run in opposite directions concerning all those things which are in the world. For we all alike see this world: and it is placed before our eyes, 239Bthat it might be delivered to our disputation; and we see this whole before us, and we do not know whence it came hither. For he who made it lies hid, and stretches his work out before himself, that he may be hidden, and be made manifest in it. For the image that has been made, receiving human contemplation from near at hand, brings it about that one can neither see his Creator manifestly, nor likewise be wholly ignorant of him. Therefore the understanding of man, exercised by the appearance of things, rises up, and from that which offers itself to manifestation strives, according to its emulation of truth, to search out inward things; and it has in the works of God the beginning of first contemplation, but it does not come through unto the end of the works of God, so as to grasp the whole of what is hidden. For if it had been able to come through to the end, it would assuredly have found God, since from him from whom 239Call things are, there do all things have their end and consummation. It does not therefore come to the end, since it could not find God, until he himself should manifest himself in us; and they that search searchings have been confounded, since they have failed (Psal. LXIII), and have not availed to comprehend and to make an end of their disputations. Therefore God hath made foolish the wisdom of the world (I Cor. V), because he placed the world in their disputation, himself remaining hidden until the disputers and those seeking empty things should fail. And man shall not find every work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. After these things God revealed himself and came forth that he might be found, when man could no longer glory as though he himself by his own sense and wisdom had known God, who had failed in 239Dsearching out the work of God. To this end therefore it profited that the world was for a time delivered to their disputation, that man might not find invenirit every work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. These are the disputations of men seeking with vain curiosity the hidden things of the works of God, which they multiply for themselves by fabricating lies concerning the things they do not know, and they fortify their errors with concortationibus. And there are yet certain other disputations in the desires of men, exceedingly manifold and various, and out of them arise the pursuits of many vanities. For every man prefers what he himself loves, and the hearts of all are drawn into infinite rendings, so that they never agree in one. Some follow wantonness and luxury and pleasure: to be drunken and to play and to laugh and to dance, and 240Athey reckon this to be the happiness of man and the sweetest delight. Others court honors, and dignities, and great fame among the peoples, and commend their own pursuits, and dispute with grievous struggle, that this portion is better in the life of man. Others heap up moneys and pile up wealth, and think to procure security, and great confidence against oncoming want in the time of straitness. And these men praise foresight and say that solicitude is better, though they wish nevertheless to be secure themselves. And thus indeed all are carried away into their own appetites, each one apart with contrary approval; and they dispute by quarreling, and by dissenting with importunate desires. And the world is delivered to their disputation, that in its affluence each one may make trial of his own pleasures and prove them, and 240Bsee, and consume them into arguments one against the other about themselves out of its plenty, each man of that thing which he himself shall have chosen in the approval of his own desires. And each one snatches with great obstinacy what he has chosen for himself; and each praises his own part, and there comes to be a great disputation and altercation of wills in the various estimations which many desires bring forth. And in all these things man does not find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. For the beginning of the works of God is the use of temporal things; but the end and consummation, the fruit of eternal things. Therefore he who establishes his disputation in the things of the world, and seeks out the approval of his own desires, cannot find in the works which God hath wrought anything from the beginning unto the end; since, 240Calthough he is allowed to make trial how great delight there can be in the goods of this world, yet that ineffable pleasantness which confers consummated happiness he does not lay hold of in the contemplation of God. For this reason the world has been delivered to the lovers of the world, to whom it is not given to deserve to find the works of God from the beginning unto the end; because to those from whom the sweetness of eternal goods is taken away, carnal delights have been given, and the joys of the world set forth unto the dissipation of their evil desires. We find yet other disputations in the judgments of men, grievous and manifold, and horrendous stirring up quarrels rigas coacitantes, so that they grow even into blasphemy of the Creator, and men say the things they ought not. For men violently seize the place 240Dof God, and set themselves up as judges of the world, and dispute concerning the world and concerning the works of God, and his providence, and the judgments by which he disposes the whole world. And some say, God has done this well; and others murmur, and say, That was not well done. For these are the complaints of men, and the presumptions by which they provoke the wrath of God; because they will not be subjected to his laws, but dispute concerning his works, and reprehend his judgments. Someone has perished by a cruel death or by grievous loss, and has been crushed by a miserable chance; and his enemy comes and says: God has done well; he has judged an impious and sinful man according to his malice; and his friend murmurs, and raises a complaint against God, why he permitted an innocent man to perish, and did not guard the just man. And that man is condemned 241Afor his malice; and this one is judged for his rashness. And yet men do not cease to dispute concerning the works of God, and to weigh his judgments by their own estimation; and God is reprehended by the thoughts of malignant men. For men say that God ought not to have created harmful things, nor to have placed among his works the things which are hostile and do harm; and they curse the good creatures of God, and blaspheme their Creator. Frogs, and flies, and serpents, and all venomous things, and all adverse and pestilential things — why did God make them? For he would have done better, if he had made all things good. For evil things are very many, and all evil things are not good. And he indeed made all things good in their time; but man alone is evil, not understanding goodness nor retaining the judgment 241Bof truth, and with an evil will disagrees with goodness: and when that comes to pass which he himself evilly does not will, he says that it is ill done; whereas it is well done, and he himself evilly wills. Therefore evil wills and wicked concupiscences blind the hearts of men, so that they do not understand what is right, because they do not love nor will what is good. And they reprehend God because he made harmful things; and yet no one reprehends when his own enemy is hurt, though they themselves all are enemies of God, and adversaries of truth. For this reason man does not understand the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. For the carnal man perceiveth not the things that are of God (I Cor. II). For he follows his own concupiscence, and praises the delight of his own desires, and when what he loves is given him, he thinks that it goes well with him. when rather this comes to pass 241Cunto his harm; and when his desires are withstood, he murmurs and raises a complaint; and he lays blame, as though it were ill done when it is justly ordained; and he does not understand the works which God works from the beginning unto the end. From the time when he is brought forth out of the earth, until he is called back into the earth: he does not understand the works which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. For God works many things about man from his beginning and unto the end of him, and man does not find to what end all these things are done, until he himself receives his end. But then he shall understand, and then he shall find the things which God hath wrought in him from his own beginning unto his own end, whether in mercy or in judgment, that he might lead him to such an end as he approved by his works from the beginning unto the end, that 241Dhe should come into consummation. But meanwhile, until the end comes, from the beginning unto the end all things lie hidden, so that man does not find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. Therefore he can dispute concerning the works of God, which God works from the beginning unto the end; but he cannot find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. But if man cannot find the work which God works from his own beginning unto his own end, so as to understand at least this which he himself has seen, how then shall he find the works which God hath wrought from the beginning of the world unto the end of the age, which he himself could not see? Let man therefore cease to dispute concerning the judgments of God, by which he governs and disposes the whole world from the beginning unto the end; because man was placed by God neither as ruler 242Anor as judge of the world, but as possessor; nor that by his own strength or power he should rule the elements of the world or dispense the outcomes of times at his own choice, but that he should receive the fruits of the world, and the changes of times, according to the Creator's dispensation, for the use of nourishing his own weakness. Therefore he added and said:

I have known that there was nothing better than to be glad and to do well in one's life. For every man that eateth and drinketh, and seeth good of his labor, this is the gift of God. For every man who contends and disputes concerning the works of God, and lays blame on the judgments of God, and accuses his dispositions in the world: this is not the gift of God, nor is it from God, but against God; and he does better who lawfully uses in this world the gifts of God acquired by just labor, 242Bthan he who quarrels against God over those things which in this world come to pass contrary to his own will or estimation. For man cannot by quarreling and murmuring against God change his disposition: and therefore it is better to receive his judgments with fear, than to murmur, in wrong done to him, over our own hurt. For to this end also God hides his judgments from us, that, while we can neither penetrate them by our own understanding nor change them at our own choice, we may fear the more. Therefore he goes on and says:

I have learned that all the works which God hath made continue for ever. We cannot add anything to them nor take away the things which God hath made, that he may be feared. Not only of the works of God by which he created the essences of things, 242Cand imposed upon the things created, through their several genera and species, form and measure, is this true, that the works of God continue for ever: in that his disposition in them is not changed, and each thing keeps to being what he appointed it to be: and if they pass away, this is not from him, since what they are they are from him; but that they cease to be, they have from themselves: just as this also, that before they were, they were nothing, they had from themselves. And so not only is this true of the works of God by which he disposes the creation of the world, that they remain for ever without change and confusion of order; but also of the disposition and predestination of his judgments, by which he examines the deeds of men, this is true, that they 242Dremain for ever, and he himself does not change the law of his own providence, and the decree of his own thought. And just as to his works, to the genera of things, we can neither add by creating, so that there should be what was not, nor take away by destroying and demolishing, so that what was something should be nothing at all: so neither can we change his judgments, either by adding, so that what he himself has not disposed should come to pass, or by taking away, so that what he himself has ordained to be done should not come to pass. For that he alone might be feared, and that at all times the regard of the human conscience might be toward him in mercy, therefore he has reserved to himself alone the power of his works and of his judgments, that no one may change what he himself has fixed by eternal laws, to be fulfilled. For this reason let not man dispute in all the things which come upon him, but let him receive the judgments of God with 243Areverence and fear: and when indeed God bestows prosperity and grants pleasant things, let him be glad with chaste exultation in his benefits; but when adverse things come forth, and troublesome things meet him, confessing his own evil deserts, let him commend God's justice and truth. But if at any time, when troubles press upon him, he has seen his own patience giving way, let him set against the vice of murmuring and impatience the gifts of his Creator's munificence: so that the mind which is pressed by the weight of temptation may, lest it break out in any degree into blasphemy, be softened by the remembrance of God's benefits. For then he will begin to do well, and to be glad in his life, and to see good things of his labor: not only when with thanksgiving he enjoys the goods of this world acquired by his own industry; but then also when, set 243Bin adversities, he is glad, for the labor of his patience, in the hope of consolation to come. For he shall eat and shall be glad in the gifts of God, when in prosperity he shall exult over the gift, and in adversity shall be gladdened over the recompense. Thus at all times he will compose himself unto peace with God, so that he may see and understand that he makes all things good in their time, so that he may not justly be accused by man in all the things that shall have befallen. For his judgments are established: and of his laws, standing for ever, nothing great or small can be changed. For just as in all the genera of things which seem to be diminished or to perish, in those things which pass away, they are restored in the things that come upon them and succeed, so that the disposition of the universe may keep its own order established and immovable; and the ordinance of the first disposition may remain always 243Cinviolable, so that the sure moderation of the works of God neither passes beyond nor remains short: so also his judgments run according to a sure providence, so that nothing can be added to them or diminished from them. And if at any time he himself seems to do otherwise, and to judge otherwise, there is a hidden dispensation by which the counsel is not changed, but the work is varied and the judgment exercised. For this very thing also is a judgment: that judgment is sometimes deferred, that in its own time it may be restored, so that nothing may perish of all the things which have been made, but that they may remain always. For this is always so, that fault has its punishment, and justice obtains its reward. But there is a hidden punishment, and a manifest punishment. Likewise there is a hidden reward, and a manifest reward. And often God tolerates the evil, and defers their manifest punishment: 243Dand yet all malice has its hidden punishment. And God judges, and seems to defer judgment, or not to attend at all to the deeds of men, in the eyes of those who see nothing but the things which are without. Likewise God sometimes proves the just, exercises them with adversities and tribulations, and justice seems not to have its reward with him: and yet it never lacks its own hidden recompense: and the manifest one is sometimes deferred, that the consciences of men might be questioned concerning their perseverance. And because the things which are in the open run dissimilarly, the eorda of men fluctuate, and they wonder where the judgment of truth is; when in this world innocence is oppressed, and malice prospers; for this reason he subjoined and said:

• 244A

I saw under the sun in the place of judgment impiety, and in the place of justice iniquity. And I said in my heart: The just and the impious shall the Lord judge, and then shall be the time of every thing. But because in human minds a grievous disputation has arisen concerning the judgments of God and concerning the contrary outcome of all things, and because the reasons must now be set forth why the hearts of men are moved against him, and rise up into murmuring, we shall briefly repeat what went before, so that of the things which are to be said we may speak the sentiment out of those very things as though from the beginning. Above, Ecclesiastes had shown that nothing in this world can stand perpetually in the same state; but that the changes 244Bof times are hurried along without ceasing by contraries going their way: which mutability of things, although it be rightly ordered by the Creator of all things, nevertheless the human heart is through impatience shaken into murmuring and blasphemy against him. And therefore, after the times of things had been enumerated, he subjoined and said: I saw the affliction which God gave to the sons of men, that they should be distended in it. He hath made all things good in their time, and hath delivered the world to their disputation. This therefore is the affliction of men, their disputation against God; because, in that they will not be humbly subjected to the judgments of God, and contumaciously reprehend his disposition, which is good in all things, when anything is done contrary to their depraved will, not only does the punishment of adversity and the trouble of tribulation 244Cwear them down outwardly, but much more does fury within, and the impatience of murmuring, afflict them. Which affliction God is said to have given them, not by corrupting their mind with depravity, but by withdrawing his judgments justly from their knowledge, that they themselves may be proved to be evil; so that, when they cannot see by what justice that is done which is done concerning them, they may the more, through the vice of their own impatience, be blinded away from the knowledge of truth. Therefore he gave them affliction when he gave disputation by concealing his judgments, that man might not find every work which God works from the beginning unto the end. For sometimes certain manifest causes go before the judgments of God in this world, when God, by a recompense that follows in the present life, either rewards the good deeds of men or punishes the evil. And in these alone 244Dthe judgments of God avail to be discerned in some degree, so that man may have some judgment of the hidden truth, in so far as he may venerate even those things which he cannot penetrate.

But when the preceding causes are hidden, or those which follow lie concealed, very many disputations and contradictions arise, and the depraved minds of men afflict themselves by quarreling and murmuring against God, since they cannot penetrate his judgments, nor find the work which God hath wrought from the beginning unto the end. For they cannot penetrate, in so great a darkness, to what end anything is done, even if certain causes seem to stand forth at the beginning, but all things are hidden because of the end. Therefore man does not find every work of God from the beginning unto the end; since, 245Aeven if he seems to see certain things, he does not penetrate the whole, and the whole becomes doubtful, because the whole is not made manifest; therefore, lest man quarrel against God in doubtful things, and murmur when set in adversities, by the gift of God many prosperous things are granted, and very many pleasant ones, that man may lawfully use goods acquired by just labor, and rejoice, and be glad, and soften his own conscience toward God. And let him think well of him, and not dispute nor contend against him, as though God were adverse who has bestowed good things. For this is what is meant by that which is subjoined, saying: And I have known that there was nothing better than to be glad, and to do good things in one's life. For he who does good to himself in his life out of those things which by the gift of God have been granted to men to enjoy, that he may be glad and rejoice in his God, does better than he who 245Bdisputes and contends against God. For every man that eateth, and drinketh, and seeth good of his labor, this is the gift of God. Therefore, because this is the gift of God, and lawfully granted by God, it is better than to dispute, and contend, and murmur: which is not the gift of God, nor granted to men by God; because it is evil and a great affliction. For he is much afflicted who can neither love nor approve approhare what he endures; nor change what he hates. Therefore he is much afflicted who disputes and quarrels against God, blaspheming his judgments and detesting his works, since man can by no means mullatenus change the things which God works.

Therefore that which follows, and he says: I have learned that all the works which God hath made continue for ever. 245CFor just as the works of creation in their own genera do not pass beyond the order of the divine institution, so also the works of his judgments, by which he disposes the deeds of men and the whole world, do not confound the sentence of his predestination and providence fixed for ever. For neither can we add anything to them, that there should be more than has been provided; nor take away, that the things which have been made should be less, that God may be feared. For for this reason the disposition of visible things does not confound its order in the course of things passing away and in the vicissitude of things succeeding, so that man may know and understand that providence is eternal, which from the beginning disposed all things, by the established and constant examination of its own precept, in what manner their outcomes should follow 245Din their own times. And that he may also learn to fear in his own deeds him whose omnipotence he discerns in all his works, and in his judgments a constancy that remains unchangeable. For the established disposition of the work, and the sure moderation by which God brings all things to effect in their own times, manifestly demonstrates that, just as his wisdom is not deceived in discerning, so also his counsel is not changed in judging. What is done, the same remaineth. Just as in this whole body of created things what is done remains, because the order of the disposition is not confounded, even if mutable nature be varied, so also in his judgments what is done remains, because even in that which, according to his ineffable dispensation, he ordains dissimilarly for the variation of times, 246Ahe does not change the sentence of his own providence. Therefore what is done remains, both in the universe of things, so far as pertains to the order of the disposition, and in the exhibition of his judgment, so far as regards the sentence of predestination. The things which are to come have already been. For in both, the things which are to come have already been; because both in the genera of all things, what those things were which now are not, this same thing, according to the likeness of nature and the identity of the course, are the several things in their own kind to be, which are not yet. And in the divine judgments, the truth which we have heard was kept in things past, the same we expect to be exhibited in things that come after. For God everywhere restores what has gone away; because just as he repairs the failing of things that pass away by the multiplication of those that succeed in their own genera, 246Bso, by judging daily the deeds of men, he demonstrates that he has held entire the ancient truth of his judgments, which he exercised from the beginning, although it seemed to have been interrupted unto the temple. For with him malice always has its punishment, and virtue its reward. But because of punishments one is hidden, another manifest: while God through patience tolerates the impious and sinners, and does not straightway inflict upon them a manifest punishment, human folly thinks that he either does not know or does not care about the deeds of men, or even, what is worse, that he approves the depravity of the malignant. Thence therefore the heart of man is shaken against God, whence God is shown to be the more to be loved and praised by men. Man complains that an evil man is tolerated by God, 246Cwhen it is manifest that no man would have been good, if no evil man had ever been tolerated. And yet the hearts of the weak are scandalized, while they see in this world the impious prospering and the innocent oppressed; because they look only to those things which are without in the open, and do not attend to those which either lie hidden within, or are kept to be exhibited manifest in the future. From what cause their complaint arises is opened when it is added:

I saw under the sun in the place of judgment impiety and in the place of justice iniquity. He saw indeed that in this world God permits the impious to be judges, and to obtain power so that they lord it over and oppress the innocent, and that the deeds of men are iniquitous which ought to have been just, 246Dand that in all these things there is great confusion under the sun. For because God grants power in this world to the perverse, therefore there is impiety in the place of judgment, and in the place of justice iniquity: so that there is impiety where judgment ought to be, and there iniquity where justice ought to be. For, because those set over are impious, therefore the subjects are iniquitous, because unless those oppressed innocence through impiety, these would not assail justice through iniquity. For inferiors are bold to perpetrate iniquity for this reason, that superiors are not dutiful to protect innocence; because if those did judgment for them that suffer wrong, these would not have been so ready to inflict wrong. But in this too under the sun there is impiety in the place of judgment, and in the place of justice iniquity: that every 247Aman pursues without mercy the evils of his neighbor, but each one strives, even against justice, as far as he can, to defend his own evils. For in his neighbor's cause every judge is impious, and in his own cause against his neighbor iniquitous, because when his neighbor's evils are to be judged, he does not remember mercy; but when his own acts against his neighbor are to be examined, he does not keep justice. And in this manner all judgments under the sun are perverse, and the minds of men totter, and they wonder where is the judgment of God who endures these things.

We can still, with another and perhaps more convenient understanding, consider impiety under the sun in the place of judgment, and iniquity in the place of justice. For there is under the sun impiety in the place of judgment, and iniquity in the place of justice, 247Bwhen in this world both the just man endures the punishment of the iniquitous, and the iniquitous receives the reward of the just. For the good are judged in this life only, that here they may receive the scourges of God for their own excesses, and may pass more purified to the reward to come. But the evil, because they are kept for the judgment to come, often in this world not only endure no adverse things, but are also permitted to fulfill their own desires, so that all things fall out for them according to their wish, unto the pleasantness and happiness of the present life. And recompenses seem to run dissimilarly, so that the good receive evils and the evil goods, and the judgment of the just seems to be impious, so that the innocent are oppressed and endure the punishment of the iniquitous, and so that the iniquitous take away the reward of the just: and all things confused and mingled, because God does not straightway exercise judgment so as 247Cto rescue the innocent, and the just from the oppression of the impious, and to punish those who work iniquitous things. Thence arises a grievous shaking of minds, and the pusillanimous who see nothing but what is without alone are kindled with zeal, and think as though God did not care for human things, and had committed all things to fortune, and that nothing came to pass by judgment. And, what is more cruel, often men go into such perversity that God is blasphemed, and it is said as though he approved iniquity, and as though impiety were with him, and he did not know true judgment. And all this arises from this, that under the sun impiety is in the place of judgment, and in the place of justice iniquity, and that, as it were in the vanity which is under the sun, all things are confused, and all come forth dissimilarly. And yet, when man considers the works 247Dof God, and sees in what manner he disposes all things with established and constant moderation, he understands that God is the inspector and moderator of all: and that his judgments cannot be made void, and that the deeds of men which he does not judge in this life he keeps to be examined hereafter. For if, as has been proved from the disposition of his works, God is a just judge, it remains that what is not done in the present in judging the deeds of men be without doubt believed to be brought to completion in the future. Therefore, in order to set forth the complaint of the weak in that God, in the fickleness and passing of this life, leaves all things as it were undiscussed, and disposes the deeds of men with a recompense unlike their merits, he said: I saw under the sun impiety in the place of judgment and in the place of justice iniquity. But straightway, 248Aconsidering that the just judgments of God could not at all be made void, he understood that judgment was only deferred, not taken away, and he said:

I said in my heart: The just and the impious shall the Lord judge, and then shall be the time of every thing under heaven.

Then, when the Lord shall judge the just and the impious, there shall be the time of every thing under heaven: because everything which is done in life, whether it be good or evil, shall then be brought to judgment. And even now indeed in this life the Lord judges the just and the impious, but those recompenses are hidden, and those which shall be manifest are deferred unto the future. And therefore the small-hearted murmur, and complain, and think that the judgment is not just; because they do not see the recompenses. Yet even now just judgment is done: and each one 248Bis judged according to his own merits. But all this is within, whither the eye of the flesh does not reach. And the things which are manifest are deferred until their judgment comes; and then all hidden things also shall be made manifest, and all things shall be judged according to just judgment. And then the Lord shall judge the just and the impious; and then shall be the time of every thing under heaven. But meanwhile all things are obscure, and run mingled toward their end. And the just are wrapped up in one lot with the impious, so long as they run together on the way, so that, when they shall have gone forth together, they may be distinguished and set in order unlike. For up to that point there is no distinction in all the things which appear without under the sun. But just as all things arise together, so they live together, and all things pass away together. And all this comes to pass, that the hearts of men may be proved: 248Cwhether there live in them anything of the knowledge of truth, and of the affection for the good which is hidden, if perchance out of that they may begin to take an argument of faith that they are something more than that alone which is seen. For outside there is nothing whence this can be known, and all arguments are taken away without, that what is within may begin to work, and be proved how great it is. For, if a man shall have known himself out of that, it is a great thing, and it stands to his merit that he seeks God through faith, whom he does not see through sight. For he first withdrew, and turned himself away when he was contemplating him present: and it was a great guilt and a grievous fault to have hated the light that was present; and it has been appointed for man as a remedy of propitiation, if he shall seek him who is absent and shall desire him who is hidden; 248Dand that he may know that to be which is not seen, that it may be made manifest in its own time. Therefore now all things are withdrawn, and the things which are invisible are hidden, and man is left outside alone with things not his own, so that he may see nothing of his own, that it may be proved whether perchance any remembrance remains in him for turning to the seeking of him. Therefore now this man, considering more deeply the profundity of the judgments of God, sees that it is no wonder if in the cloud of this life no distinction is made between the just and the impious, since our mortality is wrapped in so great a darkness that in it man may even seem like to the beasts. Therefore he infers and says:

I said in my heart concerning the sons of men, that God might prove them, and show them to be like the beasts. Therefore there is one destruction of man and of the beasts, and equally 249Athe condition of both. For man was made mortal for this reason, and therefore the sons of men die in like manner as beasts, that they may be proved and shown to be like the beasts. For two things had been made in man, one to the likeness of God, the other to the likeness of a beast. And that indeed which was created to the likeness of God was made immortal by nature, as God was immortal, to whose likeness it was made. But that which had been made to the likeness of a beast was corruptible by nature, as were those things to whose likeness it had been made. For both were taken from earth, and earth was the matter of both; and that earth was corruptible by nature, as were the things which were made of earth. So then two things were made in man, one earthly, the other heavenly; one by nature 249Bcorruptible, the other immortal; one the likeness of a beast, the other of God. And the body indeed was earthly, by nature corruptible, made to the likeness of a beast; but the soul was heavenly, by nature immortal, founded to the image of God. And body and soul were joined in man, two into one: and to the body was given the benefit of the fellowship, that it might share of the immortality of the soul unto incorruption: and all this was done for the glory of the soul, because it was pleasing to God, standing in justice and truth, so that its garment might not be worn away if its obedience persevered. And that which was the likeness of a beast in man was covered with the glory of incorruption, so that it might as it were be dissembled; nor might it see it unto the confusion of love, but might behold wholly the form of that which it loved, 249Cand might not go far off anywhere. Afterward the soul turned itself away into the estrangement of love, and forgot that which was better, its own, and gazed without upon an alien beauty. And it bent itself upon the dye of its own cloak, that it might delight itself there; and it began to commit fornication with bodily enticements, and spiritual love was withdrawn from its eyes. And God was angry, and this turning away did not please him, and he willed to call man back within to that which was true, so that the gaze of the deceiver might not always cleave upon painted images. And he drew away the glory of its garment, that it might go into corruption, and commanded the soul to turn back, lest it should quicken it and bear it to eternity; and he cut down its garment, that he might show man that his glory was not in that wherein he should see himself like to the beasts. And man fell, and that slipped away 249Dwhich was earthly and corruptible, and it began to flow so as to return whence it had come. And it came to pass that man was proved, whether he remembered his own good, and whether he knew how to seek it while he is compelled to leave the vain appearance, and to go out from that to which he had perversely clung.

Therefore, that God might prove the sons of men, and show them to be like the beasts. Therefore there is one destruction of man and of the beasts, and the condition of both equal; as man dieth, so also they die. In death therefore the condition of man and of the beast is one; because as man dies, so also they die. But nevertheless the condition of mortality is for man from judgment, for the beast from nature. And what they have alike they do not have from a like cause; because man had it from 250Afault that he should die, but the beast received it from nature that it should die. Nevertheless man is proved, and is shown to be like the beasts; because there is one destruction of man and of the beasts, and the condition of both alike: and so man dies as they die.

And all things breathe alike. That is, both the one and the other have a like life, and a like breath of quickening. And in all these things:

Man hath nothing more than the beast. Because common to both is both their rising, since they were alike made of earth; and their course, since together:

All things are subject to vanity and to mutability. And all things pass away, and the consummation of the end the same, they die similar, and they return to the earth of which they were first taken. So also formerly man had with the beasts one origin in the body, which was taken from earth, and one 250Bcondition of living with the beasts, so that the earthly body should likewise be nourished from the earth; but man did not have one end with the beasts, because man had been made that he should not die, nor return into the earth of which he was made. So then through the incorruption of the body his lowly origin was covered, and it was dissembled through immortality, lest it should come into reproach that man was like the beasts; nor did God will to show man whence his ignobility was, so as to expose him wholly in his own condition. But he clothed him with the beauty of immortality, and set him apart outside his own kind into another lot. But when man had sinned against God, he deprived him of his glory, and sent him back to his origin, so that by that whither he was going 250Che might know whence he had come. Therefore there is one destruction of man and of the beasts, and the condition of both equal; because as man dies, so also they die: and all things breathe alike, and in all these things man has nothing more than the beast, but all alike lie subject to vanity.

And all things go to one place. That is, to the earth their mother, and the beginning of their origin, because:

They were made of earth, and into earth they alike return. And if anyone should wish to say: that man has this more than the beast, that the spirit of the sons of Adam goes upward, so that, the body falling into death, it remains surviving in life; and that the spirit of the beasts descends downward, that is, together with the death of the body 250Dflows away into corruption: who knows this? Yet not because it is not true, but because it is hidden: therefore:

Who knoweth this? For he did not say, This is false, but, Who knows this? No one knows this. For this cannot be known by man, and yet it can be believed. And it is true, because it is believed: and what is believed is true, and that belief itself is not doubtful but firm knowledge; and yet no man knows this in the manner in which those things are known which are seen, and heard, and touched, and perceived by the other senses; and in the manner in which those things are known concerning which one naturally cannot doubt, and which are demonstrated by indubitable reason even to unbelievers who doubt. For by faith alone is this perceived, and therefore there is great doubt for those who do not have faith concerning 251Athis, because they do not know it, nor can it be demonstrated to them by those who lay hold of it by faith, because they themselves do not lay hold of faith. Therefore they themselves think that man has nothing at all more than the beast, because they do not know that the spirit of the sons of Adam goes upward, and the spirit of the beasts downward. And when it is said to them that man has more than the beast, because the spirit of man goes upward to life, and the spirit of the beasts downward to death, they say: Who knows this? For they do not think that anything can be known unless it be seen with the eye of the flesh, and touched by sense, and therefore they do not receive the knowledge of faith, by which alone man is called back to that in which he has more than the beast. And because they cannot see that, nor touch it in the open so as to comprehend what this is which man has more than the beast: 251Bthey despair utterly of perpetual life, and become unbelieving toward the things which are said, and cast themselves with their whole intent into the delights of the present life, as though this alone were their portion, and they were to receive nothing more afterward. For they do not know that for this reason it is hidden, that it may be believed that man has more than the beast, and that man himself may be proved by God in faith through his own ignorance. For if it were seen it would not be believed, but known; nor would there be merit, nor would man be proved, nor would the iniquitous be convicted, nor the good exercised. Therefore it is hidden that it may not be seen, that which man has more than the beast, so that faith may have merit, and unbelief its place. And there are many unbelievers, and they say: Who knows this? And they prove that things certain are not to be forsaken for things uncertain; and they begin to embrace present things, 251Cand to snatch the things which are seen, that they may hold what is certain; and they are mocked in the uncertain, because these pass away, and slip out while they are thought to be held; and the things which are certain follow after, which were thought uncertain. All these things this man demonstrates, and he shapes his narrative this way and that, so as to follow the minds of men, since in this manner they themselves totter, and fluctuate in the uncertainty of a darkened life. For he told of the doubt of men concerning their own life, since they do not know whether man has more than the beast, and they do not find who has known whether after the death of the body the spirit of man remains surviving in life; now he takes up their own voice in approval of present delights, in accordance with this very doubt of theirs and despair of the life to come, saying:

I have found out: that there is nothing better than that a man be glad 251Din his own work: and that this is his portion. For those who do not believe that a life to come exists, these think that this alone is man's portion, that he be glad in his own work, and in this life enjoy his own labor; since those who do not reckon that a wage will follow after the work is completed, these judge that the profit of the work is to be taken not after the work, but in the work, and that he alone is happy who prepares the fruit of his own labor for use in the present, not he who reserves the wage of his own work to be taken hereafter.

For who shall bring him, that he may know the things to come after him? From the time when man has once gone out from this life, he is no more brought back, nor called back again into this life, that he may make trial and feel again the things which 252Aare done in this world, so that he may anew enjoy its delights, and perceive the pleasantness of that which is to come after him. Therefore, as long as he lives, let him take as much as he can, and use this world before he departs, and is led forth from it; because he shall not return any more, nor be brought back, that he may know the things to come after him. And it can come to pass that another after him may abuse the things which he himself was unwilling to use, and a stranger rejoice and exult in his goods, and they can no more be brought back to his own use, once he has been taken away. For this reason, and for reasons of this kind, men think that this is their portion, that they should enjoy the pleasure of the world while they live; and for this alone they reckon that they were made, and that they will be nothing after these things, when this life shall have received its end. And they multiply reasonings and arguments, and heap up the things which are reasons to them, one 252Bafter another, that they may deceive themselves, and that their hearts may be confirmed in evil, and that they may believe what is false. And they build with lies a wall between themselves and truth, that they may not see it; and they set forth all things, and diligently search out all things by which they may plausibly demonstrate that there is no other life, and that this alone is good: and that man was made for this life only, and that there will be no other after it. And all this shaking rises up out of the darkness of the judgments of God; because he placed man in doubt that he might prove him, and that he might not see what man has more than the beast. And yet he himself again pursues that error with other judgments, and shows that this life is not good, in which very many evils reign; nor can true delight or tranquil rest be found in it. And therefore he sows over it 252Cadverse things, and turns himself back, and goes far off, so that he does not free the oppressed, that they may be greatly afflicted, and that by grief and sadness the evil sweetness and the iniquitous delight may be wiped away. And therefore those who wish to be gladdened in this life, and make a covenant of love with the world, and iniquitously purpose not to seek the truth, are compelled by true judgments to see the evils which are under the sun, so that they may not please themselves overmuch in their turning away. Therefore this man, when he had said that it was good for man to be glad in his own work, and that this was his portion, and had given a definition for resting in these things, is moved by another consideration, that this life is not so, that rest can be in it. Therefore he adds and says:

252DI turned me to other things (Eccles. IV). He is rightly said to have turned to other things, because by those things which he is now about to see he is admonished to believe something other than what he had before reckoned. For all these things, which shall then be seen, may teach that the true good of man is elsewhere than in this life, which is subject to so great miseries and griefs, in which innocence is oppressed, and grief does not deserve consolation: this thing therefore other, and far other than that which before was seen and thought, was this man considering, and he said:

I turned me to other things. and I saw the calumnies (Eccles, IV), which are wrought under the sun, and the tears of the innocent, and 253Ano comforter; nor that they could withstand their violence, being destitute of the help of all. Therefore do not think that here is the fatherland. But consider and acknowledge that you are under the sun, where all things are rolled about and all are confused, since this was done for this reason, that you might acknowledge your exile, and seek another fatherland. Therefore calumnies happen here, and unjust oppressions, so that some assail others without cause, and the stronger oppress the weak without mercy; and God does not bring consolation here to the innocent, because he reserves his consolations for them elsewhere, and now meanwhile leaves them destitute of the help of all, lest they be consoled in another's help, which they do not have as their own, and less groan, and sigh, and desire his consolation, which they do not yet have. But the mind of the perverse, impatient of correction on either 253Bside, is neither roused by prosperity, nor chastened by adversity. For when they look upon the sweet things of this life, they cleave to them in mind, and say: This is enough, and there is no other good of man besides this to be hereafter. But when they attend to adverse things, they are blunted, and fall down in mind, and fall down in distrust, and despair of themselves, because they have no other hope. And they choose rather not to be, than to be in evil; because it is evil, that which they are, and they have not known a good which they might choose, so as to transfer themselves to it; since in the time of their pleasure they were unwilling to learn it, that in the evil time they might rest in it. And therefore they do that which alone they have known: when they are in evil, they wish to be nothing, because they have not known another way by which to escape being in evil, unless they pass over 253Cto not-being. Therefore, the evils which are under the sun having been seen, straightway in their voice it is subjoined, when it is said:

And I praised the dead rather than the living; and I judged him happier than both, who is not yet born; nor hath seen the evils which are done under the sun. This indeed is the voice of those who have not known the true good, nor think that there is anything for man unto good or unto evil, except what is present in its entirety. Therefore in good things they exult beyond measure, in evil things they despair; and where their hope is, there their despair stands. For this reason, the evils of this world having been seen, they say that the dead are happier than the living, and that than both, those not yet born are happier. For because they reckon that this alone is, which is seen, 253Dthe misery which is in it having been seen, they will not now seek happiness in another being, because they have not known a being other than this; but they set it in not-being alone; since in this whole which alone they think to be, they have found unhappiness. Therefore they praise rather those who have been, and are not, than those who still are, and they proclaim more blessed than both those who are not yet. For if, as it seems to them, it is evil to be at all, it is good not to be, and better not to have been. For if it is evil to be in evil, it is good not to be in evil, and better not to have been. For that which is further from evil in good, is itself the greater good. Just as that which is further from good in evil, is itself the greater evil. If therefore it is evil to be, it is assuredly good also not to be, and much better than both, never to have been. And so such 254Aperversities do the minds of men bring forth of themselves under the sun, that this also is added to the confusion of all, that man himself grows dark as to his own living. For if man saw what man is and why man was made, he would assuredly recognize his own good, and would no longer say that those who are nothing are happier than those who are something. For the mind bound by the desire of so great a good, although, afflicted by temporal evils, it might loathe the present life, yet in the hope of the consolation to come it would altogether love to be rather than not to be. But now a great perversity grows up in the minds of men who are ignorant of their own good, and a vanity at its consummation, than which none can be greater. For man, flowing away from true essence by the vanity of his own mutability, without ceasing at all times ceases to be that 254Bwhich he is; and passes always into that which is not; and so, in a manner accustomed to his own evil, at last casts himself headlong into such perversity that he now covets to be nothing at all. But many, desiring to avoid this madness as though set forth in the open, and such as cannot be hidden, turn themselves about, that they may guard their own being, and they apply great carefulness and industry of their labors, that they may make their life secure from the evils which are under the sun; and gathering wealth, and multiplying riches, and all the other things which can be for the solace of life, they seek out with much foresight and carefulness. And they do many things, and work very many things worthy of memory; and not seldom by their own industry and labor 254Cthey escape another's violence, but another's envy they cannot evade. Wherefore concerning these also, after the impatience of those who despair, he subjoins a sentiment, saying:

Again I contemplated all the labors of men, and I observed that their industries lie open to the envy of a neighbor. For when he considered the labors of men, he saw that the industries of the good lay open to the envy of neighbors; since the perverse also, just as they are bound by sloth so that they do not exercise in themselves the works of the virtues, so are they goaded by envy that they may carp at them in their neighbors

And in this therefore is vanity, and superfluous care. Either this is vanity, that a man, by envying another's good works, brings care upon his own mind, and the anguish of malice, 254Dsince by envying he harms not him whom he envies, but himself; or else this too is vanity, that a man labors too much for these temporal goods, and is anxious, and afflicts himself with superfluous care, since the acquiring of them sooner stirs a neighbor to envy than draws him to love. For while the industry by which a man is exercised is good, the superfluous care and solicitude by which he is afflicted is evil. Likewise also vain confidence, and the hope by which true security is expected in the multitude of riches; whereas the acquiring of them rather takes away security, when it inflames to envy of us those neighbors who in poverty might perhaps have been able to love us, by reason of their own rivalry. Rightly therefore is industry approved, and vain solicitude reproved. But there comes again another kind of men from 255Athe flock of vanity, seeking an occasion for their own torpor. And these reprehend those who work, and seem as it were to reprove them as anxious, that they themselves may be dissolute. For thus vanity runs, that it never finds the middle boundary of virtue.

And therefore the fool foldeth his hands together, and eateth his own flesh, saying: Better is a handful with rest, than both hands full with labor, and affliction of mind. The fool folds his hands together. For he is a fool who does not know how to provide for himself hereafter. He is a fool who thinks that hands folded in idleness are filled with riches. He folds his hands together: he folds the one to the other, lest they be stretched out to work. He folds his hands together, as though making a covenant with idleness. And he eats his own flesh. He thinks he spares his own body, 255Bbecause he does not afflict it with labors, but thence his flesh is consumed by want, whence it is nourished by idleness. He eats his own flesh. For he feeds with his own folly, and his otiocitas fattens him. But nevertheless his flesh, as much as it is fed in profitable leisure, so much is it wasted by the hunger that follows. Therefore he eats his own flesh, saying: Better is a handful with rest, than both hands full with labor, and affliction of mind. It is true that a handful is better, if it knew not how to fail, and if the blessing of the widow of Sarepta had been given to all (III Reg. XVII). But Elias was not sent to all. Why therefore do you foolishly say that a handful with rest is better than both hands full with labor? Perhaps you consider when you have a handful, and have rest; but you do not attend to when you shall not have even that 255Chandful, what you will then do, and what rest you will then be going to have. Therefore now you eat your handful in rest, and your idleness pleases you; nor do you care meanwhile now to seek with labor another handful, which you may eat when this one has failed. Therefore you eat your own flesh now, because it will be beaten after this importunate idleness, and afterward by its own wasting will pay back what ill-advised rest has spent. And perhaps you may think that now all the kinds of vanities 256Ahave been told, and that there is no other kind of vanity which the watcher may find under the sun. Therefore there follows:

Considering, I found another vanity under the sun. There is one, and he hath not a second, not a son, not a brother, and yet he ceaseth not to labor; neither are his eyes satisfied with riches, neither doth he reflect, saying: For whom do I labor, and defraud my soul of good things? For he who is one, and alone has no other successor, neither a son whom he has begotten, nor a brother with whom he himself was begotten: for of his father he himself is the successor. He therefore who has not a second, whom he may leave after him as successor in his own goods: and yet does not cease to gather, nor enjoys the things which he possesses; but keeps avariciously what he has greedily gathered: what can be more vain than this? For he who labors and enjoys his own labor, 256Btakes some fruit; and he who labors, and does not use the things which he acquires by his labor, and yet leaves them to be possessed by those whom he loves, takes some profit of his labor, the desire and the wish of his own love. But he who labors, and labors neither for himself, nor for another whom he loves: for what does he labor, unless for his own vice alone, which he serves? For this man serves his vice alone, and there is no other affection which might excuse his vain solicitude, to which pardon could be given, save that one alone which vice has begotten. Many are the labors of men, which are left to strangers, and those who do them take no fruit from them. And many also labor in wisdom, and give effort, and study to know many things, and to say very many, and commit their thoughts to writing, that they may be handed on to posterity; nor do they take fruit from 256Call these things, so that it should be better for them, but they remain empty of truth and void of the sweetness of wisdom. And all their labor is vanity, even if it seem to draw near to truth. For men of this kind do not know for whom they labor, and defraud their own soul of good things; because, while they intend only upon the greatness of the work, taking no fruit from it, they see also that no usefulness comes to them from it, and they do not know whether these very things will profit others after them.