DE EXTERMINATIONE MALI ET PROMOTIONE BONI

• 1073C

What ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled; and thou, O Jordan, that thou art turned back? (Psal. CXIII.) This utterance of the Prophet is an exclamation, with wonder; and the wonder is with exultation. For he was seeing a certain divine miracle; and not one only, but a twofold one, each great, each wondrous, each exceedingly astounding. He saw the sea flee before the face of Israel; he saw the Jordan bend the rush of its course back toward its spring; he saw both give way to the Hebrew people and leave a free road to those setting out. Which of these is not new, which of these is not wondrous? He contemplated each thus, and marvelled at each, and rejoiced over each. He cries out, therefore, in the voice of exultation and of confession: 1073DWhat ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled: and thou, O Jordan, that thou art turned back? The first miracle happens at Israel's going out from Egypt, but the second happens at Israel's going out from the desert. Who at length will one day grant me perfectly to forsake the region of unlikeness: who could grant me to enter into the land of promise, so that I might be able to see alike the flight of the sea and the turning back of the Jordan? A fair spectacle it is, and pleasant enough, to see the water of the sea fleeing, to see the water of the Jordan returning, the bitter withdraw, the sweet flow back, bitterness fail, sweetness 1074Coverflow. Whoever thou art that seest these things, I should wonder if thou too didst not cry out: What ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled; and thou, O Jordan, that thou art turned back? Miracles of this kind are never wont to happen except before true Jews, except before good Hebrews.

Confession makes the Jew, passage makes the Hebrew. For "Jew" is interpreted confessing, "Hebrew" passing over. And there is a true confession, and there is a feigned confession. Likewise there is a good passage and there is a bad passage. True confession makes a true Jew, and a good passage makes a good Hebrew. To ascribe to thyself thy evils, to ascribe to thy God thy goods — that is true confession, right confession. The former is of crime, the latter of praise; each of them indeed 1074Duseful, each praiseworthy. Likewise the passage is double; each of them indeed good, each necessary. He who passes from evil to good passes well indeed; and he who passes from good to best, he too makes a good passage. Know, therefore, and confess thy evils, and do not remain in them; but pass beyond them, and the first passage is made, and the first confession. Likewise confess to God concerning thy goods, praise him for his goods, and do not grow sluggish in them: but strive as much as thou canst toward better things, and pass over to the best, and the second passage is made, and the second confession. 1075AAt the first confession the first miracle is wont to happen, and at the second confession the second miracle is wont to happen. For through the confession of crime the flight of the sea is brought about, and at the confession of praise the Jordan is straightway turned back.

For all things are washed in confession: the conscience is cleansed, bitterness is taken away, the sea is put to flight, tranquillity returns, hope revives, in spirits it grows glad. For blessed are they that mourn, since they shall be comforted. What is it to mourn, to be made sorrowful, but to be driven by the storms of the sea? And what is the joy of consolation but the flight of the sea and the absenting of grief? Hear 1075Bthe Jew confessing his crimes, and mark the water of the sea fleeing before him: I said, he says, I will confess against myself my injustice to the Lord, and thou hast forgiven the impiety of my sin (Psal. XXXI). He was confessing his iniquity, and the sea was being put to flight, because his impiety was being forgiven. For impiety is a sea, since it cannot make sweet water; but its water is exceedingly salt and very bitter, and its bitterness is a most bitter bitterness. What sweetness, I ask, has envy? What sweet taste, I beseech thee, has wrath; what pleasantness has impatience? Waters of this kind, as I judge, are every one of them bitter, and they make a sea, because they can taste good to none at all, can please no one. Dost thou see, then, what manner of thing this great sea is, and wide of hands, which can 1075Cbe called the sea of malice. For there is also another which can be called the sea of misery, having indeed itself water by no means sweet, yet less bitter. But happy is he who has dominion from sea to sea, so that he lies under no fault, succumbs to no penalty, to such a degree that all iniquity may not have dominion over him, nor any adversity oppress him. Happy the man before whose face the sea flees malice withdraws, misery gives way, the conscience grows glad. Can it be that one who is such is unable to sing confidently? What ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled? If therefore thou also wilt, make of thyself a Jew of good profession; confess from thy heart thy sin, that thou too mayest be able to see such a spectacle, so great a miracle, and mayest not hesitate to sing a hymn of this kind. 1075DWhat ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled?

But now let us consider this, how at the confession of praise the turning back of the Jordan is wont to happen. But this, as I judge, we learn better by working than by disputing; this we prove more quickly by experiencing than by speaking. In short, do thou also busy thyself to confess, to marvel at, to venerate God's power, God's wisdom, God's mercy; and be assured that the more thou shalt praise, the more ardently shalt thou love. Let it not irk thee, then, to praise the divine grace much, that thou mayest love much; to love much, that thou mayest desire much. For the more vehemently thou shalt desire, the more quickly wilt thou obtain 1076Awhat thou greatly covetest. Love what before thou didst despise, despise what before thou didst love, and be secure, for the Jordan is turned back. Love God, scorn the world, and I will truly acknowledge that the Jordan is turned back. What manner of turning back of the Jordan is this, I ask: how wonderful, how praiseworthy, how lovable — that the whole rush of love, the whole inundation of love, the whole affluence of delight should run with great haste not downward but upward, should seek the things that are above, not the things that are upon the earth; so that thou mayest truly profess that the Jordan is turned back! This, as I judge, was the reason why it neither irked the Prophet nor shamed him to become a Jew: because he had truly acknowledged that It is good to confess to the Lord, and 1076Bto sing to thy name, O Most High (Psal. XCI). Hence that firm profession and devout promise: I will confess to the Lord exceedingly with my mouth, and in the midst of many I will praise him (Psal. CVIII). Did he not will himself to be a Jew, when he said: Praise the Lord, O my soul? (Psal. CXLV.) Did he not forbid the water of the Jordan to flow downward, when he admonished his own soul with a coaxing address? Hope in God, for I will still confess to him, the salvation of my countenance, and my God (Psal. XLII). Did he not desire the streams of the Jordan to be turned back, when he said: Turn, O my soul, into thy rest, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee (Psal. CXIV). I should wonder if thou wilt hear this and not thyself seek to become a Jew, and to confess to the Lord, since he is good, since his mercy endureth unto the age, and to be found worthy — one to whom the Lord may deign 1076Cto show so great a miracle, that thou mayest sing with the Prophet: for the Jordan is turned back.

But let not even that, I ask, be enough for thee, when thou hast become a Jew, unless thou be made likewise a Hebrew also. Assuredly the Hebrews themselves are the very same as the Jews, although Jews on one account and Hebrews on another. For confession, as has been said, makes the Jew, and passage makes the Hebrew. In short, do thou thyself also, if thou art in Egypt, pass over and forsake Egypt, and thou hast made a Hebrew of good hope, and thou wilt see in the flight of the sea that great and astounding miracle. But if thou shalt take pains to pass over the desert itself as well, thou wilt see things yet greater 1076Dthan these in the turning back of the Jordan. The first passage, then, is out of Egypt, the second out of the desert. First pass from the world to thyself, second from thyself into God, Thou hast loved the world, scorn the world, and pass over. Forsake the cares of this world, and take care of thyself, and thou beginnest to be a dweller of the wilderness. Returning from the darkness of Egypt, from worldly errors, to the more secret places of the heart, thou wilt find nothing else but a place of horror and of vast solitude. For this is that land desert, pathless, and waterless — the conscience, namely, long neglected, wholly untilled, beset with thorns and thistles, and full of every horror. Thou must therefore forsake Egypt and seek a wilderness of this kind, if thou desirest to behold with thine own eyes the flight of the sea, as David also went far off in flight and abode in the solitude; fulfil, 1077AO transgressor, what is enjoined upon transgressors, where it is said: Return, ye transgressors, to the heart (Isai. XLVI), and the first passage is made, and henceforth thou art rightly called a Hebrew.

Return, therefore, to thyself, and with all keeping keep thy heart. But woe to thee if thou remainest there. Do not remain, but pass over, going on, and passing through into the place of the wonderful tabernacle, even to the house of God. Pass over, then, thyself also; go on into thy God; seek and lay hold of the highest good. Hear her who cries aloud in the streets; hearken to the voice of Wisdom, admonishing us to this second passage: Pass over to me, she says, all ye that covet me (Eccle. 1077BXXIV). Forsake the world, and Israel's passage out of Egypt is made. Despise thyself, and Israel's passage out of the desert is made. The first passage, then, contempt of the world makes; the second passage contempt of self brings about. At the first passage the sea is put to flight. At the second passage the Jordan is turned back. The flight of the sea is the extermination of bitterness. The turning back of the Jordan is the reordering of charity.

Wouldst thou hear more openly, know more fully how at the first passage of the Hebrews, in what manner at contempt of the world, the flight of the sea, the extermination of bitterness, comes about. 1077CStraightway and without doubt, as soon as thou hast forsaken Egypt, as soon as thou hast cast the whole world behind thee: the cause of fear perishes, the cause of grief, the root of bitterness (for cupidity is the root of all evils). For when thou shalt be able fully to escape the world, when thou shalt have begun to covet none of its prosperities, to dread none of its adversities, what will there then be that could disturb thy mind? What, I ask, do we more rightly understand by the flight of the sea than to be wearied by no perturbations? In short, let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid, and the sea, fleeing before our face, has gone away and withdrawn. I think that the sea will be no more when God shall wipe away every tear from the eyes of the saints, when there shall be no more mourning, nor crying, nor any grief at all, since 1077Dthe former things are passed away. For what are fear and trembling and sorrow, but waters of the sea exceedingly bitter, and wholly devoid of all sweetness? The Prophet came into the depth of a sea of this kind, unless I am mistaken, when he said: Fear and trembling came upon me (Psal. LIV). And that other word: Tribulation and anguish have found me (Psal. CXVIII). A sea of this kind they meet with, as many as forsake Egypt, seek the desert, covet the land of promise. For we must pass through many tribulations into the kingdom of God.

A sea of this kind some have before them, but others behind them. Those, however, who have it before them — to them it is for a hindrance; 1078Athose who have it beside them, to them it is for a help; those who have it behind them, to them it is for a support. And so the Israelites, forsaking Egypt, wishing to enter the desert, and sighing after the land of promise, first had the sea before them for a hindrance to their setting out; afterward they had it beside them for a help of defense, when it was to them for a wall on the right hand and on the left; at last they had it behind them for a support of security, their enemies having been drowned or shut off by it. Before us are things to come, beside us things present, behind us things past. The sea before us is the fear of dangers to come. The sea beside us is the labor of the conflicts pressing upon us. The sea behind us is the grief of evils committed; the sea before us, the fear of faint-heartedness; the sea beside us, the labor 1078Bof solicitude; the sea behind us, the grief of repentance. The fear of faint-heartedness hinders; the labor of solicitude fortifies; the grief of repentance protects. One man, considering the life and the zeal of others, when he sees many — even after the vow of profession — return to their vomit and go back to the world, does not so much as dare to begin what is good: this man has the sea before him, but for a hindrance. For what is the trembling of the heart, the hesitation of the mind, but a kind of billowing, as it were, of the sea? For he who has hesitated is like a wave of the sea, which is moved and carried about by the wind. Another manfully tramples this fear, puts the billowings of the sea to flight before him, chastises the trembling of his heart, bravely prepares his spirit to endure whatever perils for the Lord, and for this part does not hesitate to sing, the sea saw 1078Cand fled — inasmuch as all useless trembling flees and departs before his face. But because he is still solicitous how he ought either to beware of negligence in good things or to avoid the stealthy approach of evils, he does indeed suffer the sea, though not before him, yet on either side, inasmuch as he must act constantly on this hand toward good things, on that hand against evils, must labor much, and be solicitous on both sides. But happy are those whom now the exercises of the virtues, the conflicts of labors, do not so much weary as delight — who, though they lament only this, that they have consumed so many seasons of their past life either in iniquity, or squandered them in vanity. He who is of this kind shows that he has the sea behind his back, like him who said: I will recount 1078Dto thee all my years in the bitterness of my soul (Isa. XXXVIII). But who would doubt that for men of this kind the sea has been left behind their back, for a most safe support, and for the overthrow of their enemies? For the bitterness of penitence is wont not only to blot out by satisfaction the evils committed, but it has also been accustomed to bring this about in us: that what is not lawful should not even please us to repeat.

Let us consider this also: how here the water of the sea, the wave of bitterness, is to some outside the way, to others in the way. Who would doubt that this life is the way to the life to come? One man grieves for those things which belong to the present life, another for those which belong to the life to come. He who grieves for those things 1079Awhich are in this life, to him the sea is in the way. He who grieves for those which are outside this life, to him the sea is beside the way. In this life, both goods and evils; in that life, either goods alone, or evils alone. And so the things which are nothing differ much from one another, and touch one another by no nearness of likeness, inasmuch as between them a great chasm has been fixed, in which no proportion of a like quality can be found. But this life lies as it were midway between those things which belong to the life to come, the goods but the evils, inasmuch as it approaches both, on this side or on that, by some likeness, since it has goods and evils mingled together. Therefore with the goods of that life, by the goods of its own (although it is joined by a shadowy likeness, as also with the evils of that life, by the evils of its own), it is allied by an imaginary affinity. Outside, therefore, 1079Bthis way are those things which come after this life. Outside indeed, and beside — not only by likeness of quality, but by the cohesion of time. As soon as we forsake these, we fall into those without delay. He therefore who fears, grieves and laments for these things, pours out the wave of sorrow, the affluence of bitterness, like the water of the sea, beside the way of its own running down.

Sorrow for us eternal ones is the sea on the right hand; sorrow for eternal evils is the sea on the left hand. Assuredly, if we are of sound mind, for both we ought to time re, to grieve, and to abound in the bitter tears of compunction. Let us fear to lose these, let us fear to incur those, 1079Cand we have a twofold sea strongly fortifying us, and that on either side. Rightly, as I judge, the sea which meets us in the way, which hinders the journey of our setting out, which blocks the course of our progress, we strike with the rod of just severity, we terrify by consideration of the divine strictness, we remove by remembrance of the examination to come. Let all our dread, then, all our sorrow be removed from the way; and, for a useless life, for the solicitude of worldly life, let our compunction be divided into two, that by the sorrow of fear we may wash away eternal evils, and by the tears of desire may purchase eternal goods. Happy are they who pass through this twofold sea also of a double sorrow, who leave far behind their back every ambiguity and dread of what is to be expected in time to come, and pass over the whole mourning of diffidence 1079Dby the security of sure hope — would that in us too a dread and sorrow of this kind might be swallowed up by the security of a confidence coming upon us! Let a sea of this kind also flee and depart, that we too may be able to sing with the Prophet: What ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled? Do we not think the sea from beside, that one had fled away, who was saying? I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: for the rest, there is laid up for me a crown of justice, which the just judge shall render to me in that day (II Tim. IV). I think that he had left every sea far behind his back, nor was there anything whence he then ought to have been made sorrowful and troubled, when he was saying: I am conscious to myself of nothing.

But what, I ask, do we say that this is: that even 1080Atoday we see so many forsake Egypt who nevertheless do not deserve to behold so great a miracle in the flight of the sea? If they truly forsake Egypt, if they are true Hebrews, inasmuch as they pass over out of the world and make the first passage of the Hebrews, why do they not take experience at least of the first miracle also? Or do they perhaps leave the world by profession, but not also by manner of life — in habit, not in affection? If it behooves me to glory, I can glory for this part only. If indeed they are Hebrews, so am I. But see lest perchance it be not enough for us and for you to have changed place, not spirit: they change the world, not the spirit, who run across the sea. What good is it thus to pass over and not to make a Hebrew? Without doubt, at Israel's going out from Egypt, the flight of the sea shows how rightly each man claims for himself the dignity of this 1080Bname.

Let us pass out of Egypt in body; let us pass out also in heart. But let us not think that this can suffice us either. For a great way still remains for us, if we wish to attain to the vision of the second miracle. Far beyond doubt, it is not a matter of the same capacity, or of the same ease, to go out of Egypt and to pass through the wilderness, to leave the world and to conquer oneself and to cast oneself behind. The former is as it were a small thing, which is accomplished in a small time; the latter, after many labors, through many temptations, is scarcely at length and by few ever completed. The former is the work of a single day; the latter we scarcely fulfil after many 1080Cseasons. Hard, difficult, great it is to leave oneself, to look well into oneself and fully to scorn oneself, to approve by the perfect and utterly to disapprove. Here is the labor, here the groaning. Depraved is the heart of man and unsearchable, and who shall know it? Ye sons of men, how long will ye be heavy of heart, with stiff neck and untameable heart — and who shall conquer it?

O how often it is necessary to change places, how often to pitch camp, how many temptations to endure, to prove all things, to hold what is good, to abstain from every evil appearance! O how often it is necessary to go and to return, and to forget the things that are 1080Dbehind, and to stretch forward to the things before, and again, by going back behind one's own back, to take experience of oneself, and through one's own failing to be taught one's own infirmity! O how often it is necessary to fall into so many bypaths of errors, so many shadowed places of ambiguities, so many monsters of vices — to traverse them, to look upon them — before one hold the far bounds of the wilderness, and come to the uttermost of humility, and perfectly attain to the highest contempt of self! O how often it is necessary to flee to God's mercy, and, caught amid so many perils, to seek the divine mercy and to obtain grace! O how astounding the mighty works! O how delightful the miracles! O how wonderful the benefits which — in so many divine revelations, in such visitations, in such consolations — they experience, marvel at, venerate, whom 1081Athe vastness of the wilderness and the greatness of their own infirmity have taught to trust nothing of their own virtue, but to presume the whole of it from God's mercy, to cast their care upon the Lord, and to place their hope in the Lord God! There it is granted to experience, in the sweetness of the heavenly food, how great is the multitude of sweetness which God has hidden for them that love him; to taste and see how pleasant the Lord is, and how good the God of Israel is to them that are right of heart. There they who ascend into the mountain of the Lord and draw near to his feet shall receive of his doctrine, proving and professing that great is his power, and of his wisdom there is no number. And so whoever, in that land desert and waterless, has known this — thus he appeared to him in the sanctuary, that he might see his power and his glory — taking experience of that saying, 1081Bthat great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised, and of his greatness there is no end. But who could enumerate how innumerable are the alternating vicissitudes of this kind — now of desolations, now of consolations — that must be experienced; how many judgments of human infirmity, how many proofs of the divine mercy it falls to the dwellers of the wilderness and the worshippers of God to see, before they reach the far bounds of the wilderness and lay hold of the bounds of perfect humility; before the wave of the Jordan give way to those who come and, turning back its course, return to its spring; and the human spirit, spurning its own things and despising itself, pass over wholly into God, and run by desire into him from whom is every best gift and every perfect boon, and turn back to 1081CGod, the living fountain, the whole rush of its love.

O happy soul, thou who art worthy — thou for whom the Lord deigns to work so great a miracle, to whom it is granted to see such a spectacle: the waters which are lower, and whatever streams of desires tend toward the depths, running down and failing, and the waters which come from above, the desires which are from on high, standing together in a single mass — so that she may truly sing: One thing I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life (Psal. XXVI). O unhappy soul, thou who delayest, who dost not hasten, who dost not greatly 1081Dpant to run and to see, to marvel and to be astounded that the streams of the Jordan first fix their course, stand in one place, and cling immovably in one desire of eternity, and thereafter utterly fail in the lower parts and little by little increase in the higher. What miracle, I beseech thee, dost thou think it, what prodigy, that the Jordan should be driven backward, and so great a rush of the river return to the upper parts — especially if it happen at the time of harvest, when it is wont to fill the banks of its channel? For when that seed which fell upon the good ground has begun to bring forth fruit of itself, one thirtyfold, another sixtyfold, another a hundredfold, then indeed the wave of the Jordan is wont to swell higher; and, as is the way of the human spirit, to esteem great things of itself, to believe itself someone great, when it has seen itself bring forth much fruit and 1082Acome to the harvest of ripeness. Then — no wonder — the greater the things it esteems of itself, by so much the greater love does it judge itself worthy of; and it is a very great thing if it does not flow out even unto the depths of superfluity, and does not overpass the bounds of just equity and the banks of usefulness. How great, then, dost thou think, how great a miracle dost thou reckon it, to grow cheap to thyself, to displease thyself more and more, and that especially at the time when thou beginnest truly to be great and to appear great to all? The waters of the Jordan are indeed wont — nor is this a wonder — at the time of icy cold, or even by the drought of summer heat, to be lessened and to shrink; and any mind, however exalted, amid the cold of malice and the excessive heats of concupiscence, to grow cheap to itself, and, however unwillingly, to acknowledge its own infirmity, and to subside not a little from its own estimation 1082Bof itself. Who, I ask, is so monstrously foolish as not sometimes to displease himself amid wickednesses and outrages? But this will be the great thing: if at the time of harvest, and amid the successes of the virtues, he can shut in the waves of the Jordan within the banks of its channel, and restrain the rush of private love within the bounds of modesty. It will be a great thing if it does not burst out to unlawful things, or flow away to useless ones. It will be a great thing if he does not even love himself except so far as is fitting, or expedient. But the Jordan, says the Scripture, had filled the banks of its channel at the time of harvest (Josue VIII). It had filled, it says, not overpassed. It will not be harmful, then, as I think, to fill the banks, but to overpass the banks.

• 1082C

The first thing, then, for each man is to restrain love of self to a fixed measure, that afterward he may deserve to see that great and astounding miracle also: the Jordan, namely, first indeed fixing its course, then swelling, at last going backward and ascending to the higher places. And that first thing indeed — namely, to check excess — although great, is nevertheless not wondrous; but to bend the course back toward the mountains is a wonderful spectacle and a spectacular miracle. Altogether and beyond doubt it is one thing to temper love of self, and another to hold it back and turn it aside. Moderated love of self is one thing, and great contempt of self another. I think it was not without cause that such a miracle was celebrated nowhere but in the Jordan, 1082Dwhich is interpreted their descent. But what is that descent but the humbling of the heart? Or of whom is it "their," unless of those very ones who descend and humble themselves willingly? For those whose descent is not voluntary — it is indeed in them, but in a certain way it is not theirs, because it does not profit them. It must therefore be of their own accord, that it may profit them and may truly be called theirs. Are they ereduntur to have descended of their own accord, or to have profited anything in this, of whom it is read: Thou hast cast them down while they were lifted up? (Psal. LXXXVIII.) He therefore who wishes to see that great miracle must descend from every elation of mind and be humbled by a willing will — not like those who were cast down unwillingly, to the praise of God indeed, though to no profit of their own. So then, only in the Jordan, in the descent 1083Aof them, in the descent of those who descend, in the humbling of those who humble themselves, is so renowned a deed and heavenly miracle wrought. The greater thou art, therefore, humble thyself in all things, and thou keepest the banks of the Jordan: worthy that the Jordan give way to thee, that the Lord show thee miracles.

Wouldst thou see the waters of the Jordan fix their course and stand in one place? But for me, he says, it is good to cleave to God; to put my hope in the Lord God (Psal. LXXXII). Wouldst thou see the lower waters run down and fail? My soul refused to be comforted (Psal. LXXXVI). Wouldst thou see the upper waters swell and run upward? As the hart longeth after the fountains 1083Bof waters, so longeth my soul after thee, O God (Psal. XLI). In short, do thou also not go after thy concupiscences, and thou hast fixed the waters. Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world: and the lower waters, which run downward, have failed. In short, delight thou in the Lord, and thou wilt see them stand fixed in one place. Love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and thou wilt see the waters swell vehemently and rise up — nor is it a wonder — into a great mass. I think thou canst find nothing whereby to spread them more widely than to pour them out with the whole heart, and to stretch them through the whole soul, and out of them to fill the whole mind. O how vehemently this saving wave had swelled in the breast of him who said: I desire to be dissolved, 1083Cand to be with Christ! (Philipp. VIII.) To this same sense runs that which the Prophet, in singing, declared of himself: My soul hath fainted after thy salvation (Psal. CXVIII). But what manner of inundation of waters, I ask, was that, where a father is compelled to cry out for a parricide son? Absalom my son, my son Absalom: who would grant me that I might die for thee, Absalom my son? (II Reg. XXIX.) I think no place could be found whither they might spread themselves more widely. For no one has greater charity than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. So too that inundation swelled not a little, concerning which we have the Lord's own testimony: Many sins are forgiven her, because she hath loved much (Luc. VII). What wonder, I ask, if those things appeared from afar which had swelled much? Do you wish to know how far off appears 1083Dthe inundation of that love which surged so greatly, which bowed itself even to the kissing and the anointing of the feet: Amen I say to you, wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she hath done shall be told in memory of her (Matth. XXVI). But do you wish to know yet more openly how far off they can appear, if only they have swelled after the fashion of a mountain? In this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love one toward another (Joan. XIII). How far off, I beseech thee, does that appear which all men must know? But it is necessary, as we have already said, that the streams of true charity swell after the fashion of a mountain, if they would appear so far off. But perhaps thou art still seeking the mountain, after whose likeness thou readest that the waters swelled. See whether perhaps it be that curdled mountain, 1084Athe fat mountain, the mountain of the house of the Lord prepared on the top of the mountains — inasmuch as the Lord has exalted him and given him a name which is above every name, that in the name of Jesus every thing may bend the knee, of things in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. After the fashion of this mountain, after the likeness of that great and wonderful love by which he laid down his life for his sheep, let him know that the waters must swell who desires them to appear from afar and to fulfil the Lord's precept: This is my precept, that you love one another, as I have loved you (ibid.). Hear the likeness, and apply imitation. As I have loved you, he says. The likeness of love is after the fashion of a mountain. How much did he love us, who died for our sake? Can it be that they did not hold the likeness of this mountain in their love 1084B— they who for Christ were stoned, were cut asunder, were tempted, died in the slaying of the sword? For this reason, as I judge, their sound went out into all the earth and their words unto the ends of the world: that they might appear from afar, that they might be seen by all, and that all might imitate them. But why, I ask, do we wonder if those waters appeared from afar which, as it is written: swelled even unto Sartan? (Josue III.) Sartan is interpreted their tribulation. But what else is their tribulation, according to what we have already said concerning the Jordan, but the tribulation of the tribulated? And a voluntary tribulation is each man's own. For what each man takes up patiently, or even gladly, he makes his own, because he compels it to serve his own profit. As therefore the descent is the descent of those who willingly 1084Chumble themselves, so also the tribulation is the tribulation of those who for the Lord's sake love tribulation. And so that tribulation is the tribulation of the tribulated which is reckoned to the tribulated for merit. See, then, those waters which were the upper ones — how much they had grown, how much they had swelled, which had stretched themselves even unto Sartan. O love, strong as death, thou who dost stretch thyself even unto Sartan, and dost spread thy bosom even unto voluntary tribulation? What manner of enlargement of love, I ask, is this; what manner of inundation of waters — to stretch and enlarge one's own heart even unto voluntary tribulation, unto willing suffering, unto a death that is wished for? Doubt not, then, that the upper waters have stretched themselves to that place, as often as thou seest men rejoicing in tribulation 1084Dand loving their own tribulation for the Lord's sake, as the apostles went rejoicing from the presence of the council, because they were held worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus.

Therefore the upper waters ascend even unto Sartan, and the lower waters descend even unto the sea. The former ascend and grow, the latter descend and diminish. The former grow and swell, the latter diminish and fail. A fair spectacle, that the upper waters swell about Sartan and the lower waters fail in the sea. Here give heed and be astounded. Here give heed diligently, and be astounded vehemently. Choose, among things so great and so much to be wondered at, what 1085Athou shouldst wonder at first, what thou shouldst wonder at more: whether that waters among the mountains do not flow down but swell, or that waters out of waters do not swell but fail. But the waters, says the Scripture, which were the lower ones went down into the sea of solitude, which is now called the Dead, until they wholly failed (Josue III). Those, then, which are lower must needs descend into the sea and fail in the sea. But we know that, however sweet the waters may be, since, when they come into the sea, they cannot keep their own sweetness. Those, then, which descend into the sea quickly grow bitter. Let your laughter, he says, be turned into mourning, and your joy into sorrow (Jac. IV) — that is, for sweet water to descend into the sea, and to lose its sweetness, and to turn the sweet into the bitter. Laughter indeed and joy make sweet 1085Bwater, and of this kind, howsoever ardently each man thirsts, so gladly also does he drink. But mourning and sorrow cannot make water sweet, nor do men readily wish to drink of this kind. As often as laughter is turned into mourning, so often does the lower water slip into the sea and be changed into bitter. For that laughter cannot belong to the upper waters of which it was said by the mouth of Truth: Woe to you that now laugh, for you shall weep. What, then, is it for the lower waters to run down into the sea and to fail, but to draw carnal and lowest delights into grief, and to extinguish them by repenting? For he who laments and groans over a delight already committed, who shudders at one coming upon him and spits it out, who fears one to come and busies himself to avoid it — what else does he do than turn the sweet into the bitter for himself? This, then, this, 1085CI say, is what we were wondering at above, what we wonder at still: to turn the sweet into the bitter, to bewail joy, to grieve over delight, and in this manner for the sweet to fail in the sea. Do the waters, then, swell about Sartan; do the waters, then, fail in the sea? Is it thus, O man, that thou rejoicest over tribulation? Is it thus, O man, that thou art troubled over delight? O wondrous, O astounding! In voluntary tribulation joys are heaped up; the delights that come to meet us are exterminated by a grief freely taken.

But what, I ask, does this mean, that it is called 1085Dthe Dead Sea, in which so renowned a deed came to pass? Why, I ask, did it receive such a name? For that it did not have it before, the Scripture sufficiently intimates in this, that it says: The sea of solitude, which is now called the Dead (Josue III). I think that not every sea of solitude, nor every bitterness of desolation — nay, this very sea of which we are now speaking — is by no means worthily reckoned by such a name; nor ought it be called dead, unless perchance the aforesaid miracle come to pass in it. We know that what is dead cannot move itself at all; perhaps this sea, after the wave falling into it had failed, after it no longer had a flood flowing in and driving it, fell away from its own seething, and lost those swelling and boiling storms of its own billowings. For the inflowing rushes of the Jordan, and its most rapid course, 1086Aby their most vehement gliding-in used to drive it and shake it, and did not at all suffer it to be tranquil and quiet. It went, therefore, at that time swelling and foaming and greatly boiling up, and as it were vehemently indignant at the injury of its own commotion and unrest. But after the inflowing inundation began to fail, and the cause of its commotion to perish, the sea itself also began to rest from that stormy agitation of its own, and, as though dead, to lose the motion of its former unrest, and to change its name. So indeed, so the torrent of carnal pleasure and the vehement rush of the flesh, so long as it is vigorous, is wont to be the cause of swelling and of indignation. It is wont indeed to trouble the whole conscience, to stir up waves of bitterness, and to overturn from 1086Bthe bottom that deepest abyss of the human heart, and to agitate that great sea with great tempests. For the mind, fervent with heavenly desire, zealous for purity, and tending toward perfection, so long as it is compelled to feel base delights from the rush of the flesh, must needs struggle against the lowest desires, and against those that flow to the depths. Hence it is that it is angry with itself, that it is indignant with itself, that it seems to rage against itself; and I think that a perturbation and tumult of this kind, and a vehement billowing, makes the sea not dead, but living, but strong, but restless. But after the lower waters have begun to run down and to fail, and the flux of the lowest delights to grow faint and to vanish away, the conscience too begins likewise to compose itself little by little to peace and tranquillity, to lay aside more and more the dread of the judgment to come, 1086Cand to lose those seethings of past indignation and anxiety, and, after the likeness of a dead thing, to have no motion of trembling and of perturbation. In this manner, then, the outflow of carnal pleasure, drained and dried up and utterly consumed, makes the sea weak and feeble and tranquil, and such as by right ought to be called dead. Surely thou seest, as I judge, how rightly the sea changed its own name and took on the name of the dead, in which the running down of the lower waters fell away and failed.

But it is to be noted how this sea must in 1086Dsome respect remain, and yet in some respect be dead: for it is always necessary to repent of the evils committed, to pursue them with hatred and detestation and to shudder at them, yet not always to bewail them and tremble at them, but, after worthy satisfaction and concupiscence subdued, to receive consolation, and to reform the spirit to the hope of pardon and the quiet of security. O truly happy and greatly blessed is he to whom it is given to check the perturbations of the heart and the tempests of sadness, and to compose to tranquillity those great and wonderful liftings-up of the sea! One thing I know, nor dare I doubt it: that so long as love is scattered upon many things and drawn off to the depths, it is never brought through to full peace, never made serene unto the tranquillity of true security. O unhappy and wretched soul, 1087Ahow long art thou solicitous, and troubled about very many things? further, since one thing is necessary, fix at length thy desire, love the one. Happy are the citizens of that city whose participation is in the selfsame. Let the waters that are under heaven be gathered together into one place; do not suffer them to flow downward. Or dost thou not know that he who lets his waters go is the head of quarrels? Why dost thou flow away through the lowest desires? What hast thou to do with goods that will perish, and with joys that must be bewailed? Dost thou not know that every water which runs downward descends into the sea? For all rivers enter into the sea, and every lowest delight ends in grief. For laughter shall be mingled with grief, and 1088Amourning takes hold of the ends of joy, inasmuch as every sweet water descends into the sea and loses its sweetness: for the world passeth away, and the concupiscence thereof. And we know that what is possessed with love is not relinquished without grief. How much better, then, is it to savor the things that are above, to seek the things that are above, and to turn the streams of the Jordan back into their own spring, that we too may dare to take up that voice of congratulation for the use of our own confession? What ails thee, O sea, that thou hast fled; and thou, O Jordan, that thou art turned back?

• 1087B

But neither do I think that this is to be passed over in this place: by what art, or by what industry, it can be brought about that the Jordan turn itself back of its own accord, and by a spontaneous inclination run back to its own spring. For it is one thing to know what is expedient, or what ought to be done, and another not to be ignorant how thou canst obtain what thou dost not doubt will be useful, or even necessary. Who would not despair of being able to turn the rush of so great a river toward the mountains? Who, I say, would presume that he could check that most rapid natural course of human affection, and that most vehement rush toward the depths, and bend it into the contrary direction, unless he receive an art whereby he may hope to accomplish it? In short, we have often heard, and frequently also 1087Cseen, the course of flowing water hindered, nor do we judge this impossible. For it is one thing often to check consent in necessary appetites and in natural affections, and another to change the affection and to turn the outflow of human concupiscence toward the mountains of the virtues, and, by a certain spontaneous inclination of inmost love, to rise up against custom into the concupiscences of supercelestial desires. I think it of little worth, then, to bring forward my own opinion on this, or any man's: let us learn from him who teaches man knowledge. Let us hear, then, what he sets before us for this business, or what he promises for the issue of the matter. When the priests, he says, who carry the ark of the covenant of the Lord God of all the earth shall have set the soles of their feet in the waters of the Jordan, the waters which are lower shall run down and fail; 1087Dbut those which come from above shall stand together in one mass. We must therefore, as we hear, have the ark of the Lord's covenant present, if we covet that the lower waters fail and the upper rise up in one mass. O happy they who can have it present — if not always, yet nevertheless frequently — in whose presence miracles so great and so delightful come to pass. But what is that ark of the covenant, I ask, 1088Bunless perhaps that prerogative of divine gifts, the grace, namely, of contemplation? What is that gilded ark, but human intelligence made splendid by the brightness of heavenly wisdom and irradiated by the light of divine inspiration? What do we more rightly understand by that venerable shrine and repository of divine holy things than the spiritual understanding of spiritual men, which both grasps by intelligence and guards by memory the more sacred of the divine secrets and the hidden things of wisdom? But what do we say to this, that this ark is called the ark of the covenant? Can it be that he is wont to give so great a grace as a sign of love and a pledge of charity — he who loves those that love him, and makes them worthy of his love, so far that they deserve to hear from him: Now I will not call you servants, but 1088Cfriends, because he has made known to you all things which I have heard from my Father? (Joan. XV.) And so this ark is not always had present, because the grace of contemplation is sometimes withdrawn even from those to whom it is granted to have it for a time. We have the ark present, then, when from inspiring grace we receive a ray of contemplation. We carry that ark with us when we diligently apply ourselves to divine contemplation, and vehemently interdimus in the zeal of saving wisdom through investigation or review.

For these, unless I am mistaken, are the bearers of our ark, 1088Dby whom it is wont either to be lifted on high or to be carried forward: namely, the investigation of things unknown and the review of things known. For without these it quickly either slips downward or is driven backward. For without review it is not kept from the lapse of forgetfulness, and without investigation it is never advanced to the progress of cognition. But the office of priests, as we all know, is wont to keep watch over the guarding of salvation and the care 1089Aof souls. Our investigation, then, and our review also, ought to attend diligently and to apply themselves unceasingly to the things of salvation, to the things that bear upon salvation, that they may claim for themselves by merit the dignity of the priesthood, and may defend the honor of the name. O how worthy priests! O how fit bearers of the ark — the investigation of things of salvation, the review of things wholesome! By the office of these priests we carry down our ark to the streams of Jordan, when through the zeal of investigation and of review we turn the eye of our contemplation to the consideration of our own desires. And so at their entering in, and at the approach of the ark, thou wilt see the course of the Jordan, and the empire of dissolution, first slacken, then stick fast, and at last go back again. Beyond doubt, the more perfectly thou shalt have inspected the outflow 1089Bof human affection, the more fully thou shalt have known it, by so much assuredly wilt thou wonder at it the more, by so much the more vehemently wilt thou detest it. Consider frequently, then, contemplate diligently the wantonness of thy heart, and the outflow of thy desires. See, then, thy love — whence and whither it runs, whither it tends by desire, or whence it withdraws by loathing — and thou wilt see how it slips from lofty things to the depths, and is drawn off from the highest to the lowest. Beyond doubt, when thou hast begun to inspect these things diligently and to understand them deeply, thou wilt likewise begin to proclaim with the Prophet: What have I in heaven, and besides thee what have I desired upon earth? (Psal. LXXII.)

• 1089C

But how great a wonder do we think that worthy of, with how great delight to be embraced: that God does not wish to defer his miracle longer, nor to draw out our expectation at length, nor does he press us to descend even to the depths of the Jordan and to penetrate even to that unsearchable deep of the human heart, before he begins to fulfil his promise. Assuredly, since he himself has known our frame, he does not wish to hold us in suspense by the delay of a long waiting, truly knowing that the heart of man is depraved and unsearchable. For who could worthily comprehend it? who could suffice to unfold how great a folly it is, 1089Dhow infinite a misery, of one's own accord to forsake the highest goods, greedily to seek the lowest goods, to loathe eternal joys, ardently to covet transitory ones, and for things that shall perish to lose infinite rewards and to incur eternal evils? The incomprehensibility of this consideration seems to be the reason why we are not compelled by the Lord to penetrate to this deep of immensity — lest he should seem to exact of us not merely difficult things, but even impossible ones. But what says the Scripture? When the priests, it says, had entered the Jordan, and their feet were dipped in part of the water, the descending waters stood still in one place, and, swelling after the fashion of a mountain, appeared from afar (Josue III). Dost thou observe, I beseech thee, how straightway at the first dipping of the feet the Jordan begins to check its course and to be turned backward? scarcely had they touched part 1090Aof the water, as thou hearest, and already the streams of the Jordan were turning their own rush back upon themselves.

But what, I ask, are those feet of the priests, at whose dipping the Jordan is turned backward? But if by the priest we rightly understand investigation, what is more rightly understood by his foot (which is the lowest part of his body) than the depth of investigation? The priest's foot, therefore, is the profundity of investigation. To set the foot in the water, then, is to penetrate hidden things by deep investigation. A foot of this sort is dipped in the water when the mind marvels at the subtlety of its own finding out, and in its own wonder 1090Btakes delight. For what is it to be dipped, but to be affected? What is it to be affected, but to contemplate, to marvel, to be delighted? And although we do not stretch the feet of our investigation all the way to the bottom of the flood, because we penetrate the wanderings of our desires only in part, yet we dip those very feet deeply, though set only in a part, being greatly astounded at what we scarcely, or only in small part, comprehend. We ought therefore, by searching out the inmost parts of the heart, to descend into the waters at least so far that we may be able fully to dip the feet of our investigation, and to turn our spirit into wonder and stupor over the consideration of our own wandering. For this very thing which we can comprehend concerning our follies and our wanderings, I think can suffice us so far that the Jordan 1090Cof its own accord checks the rush of its course, and by a spontaneous inclination runs back to the parts behind, condemning and detesting the bypaths of its former custom, of its own will restraining the lapse of its own ways, and directing them into the contrary. I think that at that time the Prophet had lifted the ark of his own intelligence over the waters of the Jordan, when he was bringing forth a general judgment, not concerning his own heart only, but concerning every human heart: All is vanity, every man living (Psal. XXXVIII). He saw whither the streams of the Jordan were running, when he cried out by way of rebuke: How long will ye love vanity and seek after lying? (Psal. XIV.) He saw where it would end its course, and how it would fail in the sea, when he said: Man passeth away in an image, yea and in vain 1090Dis he troubled (Psal. XXXVIII). He had dipped his feet deep in the water when he burst forth into this voice of wonder: For what have I in heaven, and besides thee what have I desired upon earth? (Psal. LXXVIII.) I think that at this dipping of the feet and this wonder of consideration the Jordan, forsaking the depths of desires, returns to the upper parts and seeks again its spring, so far that it says: My soul refused to be comforted; I remembered God, and was delighted (Psal. LXXVI).

No one, then, ought to neglect this very thing which can be comprehended from the consideration of his own corruption, nor to look upon it negligently and as it were in passing; 1091Abut straightway, at the entering in of the ark and the dipping of the feet, to fix his step and to weave delays, until the upper water grow and the lower fail, and the whole people of the Hebrews pass over. For as soon as we have begun to review and to examine our life, and to dip the feet of our searching in the water, as soon as we have felt our spirit affected and, at the consideration of itself, marvelling and growing indignant, we ought gladly to linger in this spectacle of our own wonder, until the love of inward things swell, but the love of lower things wholly fail, and the whole throng of our desires pass over, and touch and hold the land of promise by the certitude of its own hope. Then at last, as I judge, it will be time that the ark itself of our intelligence may enter the land of promise, 1091Bwhen it has sent on before it the people of all its vows and wills. For it is necessary first to believe, to hope for, to love, and greatly to desire the good things of the Lord in the land of the living, before it is granted us to know and to understand them, to see them face to face. Unless, he says, you believe, you shall not understand (Isa. VII). He that loveth me, he says, shall be loved by my Father, and I will manifest myself to him (Joan. XIV). Love, then, precedes manifestation, that manifestation may follow love. Let the throng of affections go before the ark, that the ark of contemplation may follow after the throng. The land of promise must be held first by desire rather than by understanding. I think that the Apostle had brought over the whole multitude of his thoughts and of his affections when he said: I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ 1091C(Philipp. I). For what had he left himself of the desires of this life, who did not even love life itself, by reason of his exceeding desire for Christ? Hence it is, as I judge, that he prevailed to bring the ark of his contemplation into the land flowing with milk and honey, that he might see the good things of Jerusalem all the days of his life, and might learn from the Lord's revelation that which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it ascended into the heart of man. I lie, if he himself does not glory that a man of this kind was caught up even to the third heaven, and there heard secret words which it is not lawful for a man to speak.

1091DI think that we ourselves also, after the passage of the inward household and of so great a multitude, when we have begun to bring our ark of contemplation in thither, and to see no longer through a glass and in a riddle, but face to face — when we shall hold in act what meanwhile we hold in affection — it will then no longer be necessary for the Jordan to hold back the streams of its own channel and to check by resisting the rush of its own course. Far be it, far be it — when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality — far be it, I say, far be it, that it should still be necessary to chastise the body and to bring it into servitude, and even then to be mortified all the day long: When the just, Christ himself also bearing witness, shall shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Father (Matth. XIII), and the wicked man shall be taken away, that he may not see the glory of God. It will not 1092Abe said to us any more at all: Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world — when the Lord shall have made a new heaven and a new earth, according as the creature itself liberabitura the servitude of corruption into the liberty of the sons of God. And although the comeliness in creatures shall then be incomparably greater and more beautiful than now, and sweeter in bodily gratifications, more abundant and more delightful, there will be nothing that can lessen the concupiscences of the spirit in all these things which the bodily sense shall touch. The concupiscence of the flesh shall not know how, the concupiscence of the eyes shall not know how, to extinguish the concupiscences of the spirit, but to kindle them; not to cool them, but to inflame them more keenly. Whatever shall meet it without, whatever within, will minister nourishment to spiritual love, to divine love. Then beyond doubt 1092Bthe spirit will be delighted within, and will be delighted without. It will be delighted in spiritual things, it will be delighted in bodily things, and it will go in and go out, and will find pastures. Then the waters of the Jordan will return into their own channel, and will flow as they had been wont before. The channel of the Jordan is the appetite for what is advantageous. In a channel of this kind the waters of Jordan are borne with a rush, because the desires of the heart are drawn off hither and thither according to the appetite for their own advantage. Whither dost thou think a running down of waters of this kind tends, if not into good pleasure? What, then, is it for the waters to run as they had been wont before, but to follow good pleasure and to have laid hold of it? Naturally indeed every appetite is drawn to what is advantageous, and no one is forbidden there to follow the leading of this channel in his own desire. Many things please here which nevertheless are not seemly, 1092Cand therefore ought not to be done. It is necessary, therefore, often in this life to check the rush of the waters, and manfully to break the violence of the concupiscences. Nothing there will please but what will also be lawful. It will therefore do no harm that the streams of desires flow out at will, and be drawn off to every good pleasure. The license of this liberty, as I judge, the Prophet was hoping for and sighing after when in singing he proclaimed: Make the free offerings of my mouth well-pleasing, O Lord (Psal. CXVIII). Often, and beyond measure, the free offerings of the mouth and the good pleasures of the heart are other things. For we covet one thing with the mind, and other are the things which we approve with the mouth. Very often indeed those things are other which please by sentence, and other those which please by concupiscence. The former please from judgment, 1092Dthe latter from desire. The former from definition, the latter from delight. The Prophet asks, therefore, that the very same things which are vowed may also be well-pleasing, that they may come together into one and always meet one another: the vow and the good pleasure, the sentence and the concupiscence, the judgment and the desire, the definition and the delight. Make the free offerings of my mouth well-pleasing, O Lord: that whatever pleases from discretion may please from delight, and that those things alone may please from delight which are lawful from deliberation. Let it pass over, then; let the people of the Hebrews pass over; let the ark also pass over after them into that land flowing with milk and honey, into that supernal and everlasting delightfulness, that at length it may one day see face to face what it had before sought so earnestly with much desire. Let that great troop of so many desires pass over; 1093Alet that theoric ark of intelligence pass over also into those inward and eternal joys, that then at least the Jordan may receive a free course, and every human affection may roll itself licitly and freely into every good pleasure, and the human spirit (as one cleaving firmly and immovably to the highest and spiritual goods) may find nothing of contradiction in things outward and lower. Unless I am mistaken, that wave which had swelled above will run back into its own channel with a greater rush than before, and will spread more widely, and will exceed the measure of its former limitation — inasmuch as the love of the Word and of creatures finds most abundant nourishment for a greater burning, and for this reason rushes toward all things on every side with a more fervent desire.

• 1093B

But that which is read concerning the passage of the ark seems to be able to be fulfilled in some manner even in this life. That apostolic testimony proves this, which we brought forward above also; and we do not doubt that he who still says such things was living in this corruptible life. I know, he says, 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 I know such a man, that he was caught up into paradise, and heard secret words which it is not lawful for a man to speak (II Cor. XII). Behold where he had brought in the ark of his contemplation, who had fixed the eye of intelligence even upon the secrets of the third heaven. But I think that not even 1093CPaul himself would have lifted the ark as far as that place, had he not first sent thither the whole household of his desires, so far that he counted all things as dung, that he might gain Christ. Many, as I judge, possess by merit this land of promise of which we speak, who cannot bring their ark in thither after the likeness of Paul, inasmuch as they still keep back by desire, outside this land, some of that inward household of their affections. But when all this throng of the Hebrews shall have crossed the Jordan, when the ark of the covenant itself shall have been brought in after them into the land of promise, what harm, I ask, will it now do to resume its course and, after its custom, to flow back into its own channel — provided only it do not overpass the banks of fitting usefulness and of just 1093Dnecessity, provided only that, following the channel of equity and of modesty, it do not flow out into the field of superfluous liberty? For what is it for the throng of the Hebrews to have crossed the channel of the Jordan, but that heavenly desires, tending toward the glory to come, have so far subdued the appetite of the flesh that it can no longer ensnare or hinder them? And indeed, before the people of the Lord pass over with the Lord's ark, lest the wave of the Jordan hinder their passage, it is necessary to restrain its running down, and to break the rush of the flesh, and often to turn the spirit away even from a necessary concupiscence. For never is human affection perfectly inflamed to the desire of eternity, never is human understanding fully sharpened to the contemplation of eternal things, unless the care of the flesh 1094Abe frequently and strongly repelled even in things lawful and very necessary. So far, then, must the body be chastised and brought into servitude, until it can no longer in any way hinder the progress of merits. But after it has let pass the throng going by and the ark accompanying it, in so far as it will not be able to stand in the way of spiritual exercises, it will be lawful for each man to follow the channel of his own advantage. Hence it is that we have often now seen many afflict the body first with wondrous abstinence, and fall into grave, nay incurable, diseases; and these same men, after concupiscence had been subdued, after grace received from God, loosen the reins of their former rigor, and indulge their body in food and drink, in sommo and clothing, far more than the keeping of health would have required. For this often serves spiritual 1094Bpursuits, that a man full of grace guards or repairs the strength of the body, so far as he usefully can. Yet he who now indulges himself according to this license ought to beware lest he loose the waters too much, lest they forsake the channel of his own advantage and overpass the banks of modesty; let them flow at least as they had been wont before — those waters of which it is written that they had filled the banks of their channel. This, as I judge, they alone know how to do well who now savor the things that are above, who have now tasted the sweetness of heavenly things, who loathe earthly things, who have now brought their ark into that land of promise. No one can, as I judge, attain to the perfect summit of outward goods who has not yet deserved to feel by tasting the sweetness of inward goods. I think that unless the Prophet had first 1094Ctasted how sweet the Lord is, and how great is the multitude of the sweetness of his house — I think that unless he had learned this by experience, he could not at all have said that from his own sentence: My soul refused to be comforted (Psal. LXXVI). That it may not therefore always be necessary to check the course of the Jordan, we must carry our ark over into the parts beyond it; but neither is that permitted, unless we can send on before all that throng of our vows.

Assuredly this ark ought neither to follow everywhere, nor always to be sent on before. In the place of horror and of vast solitude let it go before the throng; let it follow after the throng 1094Das it enters into the land of promise. Let it go before toward our own things, let it follow after toward divine things. On this side of the Jordan, the things that pertain to us; beyond the Jordan, the things that are above us. Here we are bidden to examine and to approve and afterward to hold: Prove all things, says the Apostle, hold that which is good (I Thess. V). There we are commanded to believe, that one day we may deserve also to understand: Unless you believe, he says, you shall not understand (Isa. VII). We ought therefore, so long as we are still in the desert, so long as we make our journey through the wilderness, to send our ark on before us, and subtly to foresee whither the household of the virtues ought to tend, following after by zeal or by desire: That you may be able, says the Lord, to see and to know by what way you enter, because you have not walked 1095Aby it before (Josue III). Hence that of the Wise Man's sentence chimes in with this, when he says: And let thine eyelids go before thy steps (Prov. IV). But toward those things which are beyond the Jordan, which exceed our sense, we strive better by desire than by zeal, by affection than by understanding — inasmuch as we are bidden to send on before the throng, not the ark, and it is better in this part to desire much than to examine much, that we may deserve to be brought in thither where we cannot break in by our own strength. For he who is a searcher of majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory (Prov. XXV). There, then, let it go before, that it may show the way.

But neither indeed did the divine word wish silently 1095Bto pass this over: by how great a space of the way it ought to go before the following throng. Let there be, he says, between the ark a space of two thousand cubits. Wouldst thou know what it is for the ark to be with the throng, or what it is for the ark to go before the throng? When we attend with diligent contemplation to what sort we are by our deeds or our desires, we have our ark with us and as it were present. But when we look subtly at what sort we ought to be, we send the ark of our intelligence on before our face, that we may not be ignorant whither we must tend. Who, I ask, can glory either that he does the whole of what he can usefully do, or that he can do the whole of what ought to be done, if it could be done? For as they do not will the whole of what they can, so neither can they do the whole of what they ought. 1095CTherefore capacity reaches further than will, and necessity is far more remote than capacity. Let us therefore send our ark on before, not only as far as the consideration of our own possibility, but even as far as the speculation of necessary usefulness, that we may attend not only to what better we might do than we do, but also to what better ought to be done than we are able. He therefore sends his ark before his face, as it were a thousand cubits, who diligently attends, who frequently looks, at where he might have been by merit if he neglected nothing of what was possible to him. But he advances further, even from two thousand cubits, who contemplates not only frequently but almost unceasingly how innumerable are the things he does not do, and how innumerable also are the things he is not able to do, 1095Dwhich ought to be done if his own strength did not fail for the fulfilling of them. When we wish to do something strongly, we stretch out our elbow; and therefore we rightly understand by cubits the exercises of the virtues. The number a thousand is wont to signify perfection, because our reckoning has no greater number. Two thousand cubits, then, as I judge, seem to designate a twofold perfection: namely, the integrity of the will and the fullness of fortitude. But whoever cannot yet do the whole of what he ought, and does not even complete the whole of what he can, lacks both perfections. What, then, is it to send the ark of one's intelligence on before oneself as far as two thousand cubits, but prudently to foresee how much is wanting to one of the twofold perfection, neither of which can one yet 1096Afulfil? But assuredly I will say what I feel: I think that he alone has fulfilled this precept of the Lord; him alone, I say, I reckon to have sent his ark on before by two thousand cubits, who declares of himself that he has not up to now laid hold even of the beginnings of the twofold perfection. For if he cut off even one cubit from so great a space, by walking, by approaching, by hastening, and arrogated to himself at least the first beginnings of consummate perfection, he would not have seen himself remaining two thousand cubits behind the ark. O perfect man, founded in the highest humility, who can always both make progress by hastening and hasten by making progress, and always keep this humility for himself: that he may always advance in good, and yet may always believe that he has not even the beginnings 1096Bof perfection! A great spectacle, to see the ark hasten by going before, to behold the throng quicken by following after, and yet always to keep between them the measure of so great an interval. The more the ark is advanced, by so much the more does the throng also hasten; and the more the following throng presses on, by so much the more does the preceding ark quicken its own journey. Assuredly, the better we recognize the grace of perfection, the more ardently do we also covet it; and the more we are kindled to love, the more perfectly are we enlightened unto recognition. The just man will always find how he may set it two thousand cubits ahead of himself, because in this life willing, being able, and owing can never run together into one. This belongs to the time to come, not to the present life. There 1096Cassuredly, as he will will the whole of what he justly will be able to do, so he will be able to do the whole of what he by right will owe. But here the capacity of acting surpasses the action, and the necessity of what is owed exceeds the possibility of doing. But it is agreed that the one grows out of the other: because, when our willing grows, our being able grows also; and with the increase of both, our owing grows also. For the more ardently we seek the good, the more easily we accomplish it; and the greater the things we can do, the greater also are the things we owe. After this manner the ark must always proceed to the parts before, and the following throng hasten after it. But it ought to be a small thing to thee, who hastenest to the land of promise, that thou send thy ark on before thy face, unless it go before thy journey by two thousand cubits and show thee whither thou oughtest to follow. Busy thyself, 1096Dtherefore, in the consideration and contemplation of thy own perfection, to penetrate so far into the parts beyond that thou mayest truly believe that thou hast not yet attained even its first beginnings, whether by affection or by effect.

Do you wish to hear a man picking his way two thousand cubits behind the ark, and not claiming for himself even the first beginnings of a more perfect life? While I was yet, he says, laying the warp, he cut me off (Isa. XXXVIII). He does not say, while I was yet weaving, but, while I was yet laying the warp. What is it to lay the warp, but to premeditate; and what is it to weave, but to do? Indeed, what else is it to lay the warp of what is to be woven and to weave what has been warped, than to preordain the things to be done and to do the things preordained? While I was yet, he says, laying the warp, while 1097AI was yet premeditating, while I was yet seeking through meditation what I ought to have done, and could not yet fully find it, he sent forth his hand and cut me off. I had not yet, he says, woven anything, I had not yet begun to do good, it was not granted me to begin the web of an ordered life; because, while I was yet laying the warp, he cut me off. I confess indeed that I had already purposed to do good things, that I was already arranging how they might be done, and that I had already warped my web in great part; but, while I was yet laying the warp, he cut me off, and I could not — I will not say weave through, but not even begin — the web of my purpose. How great, I ask, was that man who thinks so humbly of himself, who claims for himself not even the first beginnings of good, since he believes himself still to be laying the warp? Does he not seem to you to be still laying the warp of that web which he had woven with many, 1097Bwho diligently sought that he might find and see what was profitable to the sons of men, what work they must needs do under the sun, in the number of the days of their life? And does he not seem even to himself to be still laying the warp and not weaving, who had long striven to know the reason which his soul still seeks, and could not find it? Behold this I have found, said Ecclesiastes, one and another, that I might find the reason which my soul still seeks, and it has not found it (Eccle. VII). What good thing, what great thing, I ask, would that man believe himself to have done, who confesses that he sought and yet did not find what work must needs be done under the sun in the number of the days of his life? It is plain that he had sent the ark of his understanding on before his face, who was seeking whither he ought to follow by desire or by act. 1097CBut he reckons, as I judge, that the throng of his desires now stands as it were idle, who confesses that he has not yet found the reason he was seeking. Or do you still desire to hear more openly of a man who scarcely ascribes to himself the first beginnings of good, and who then, as it were, picks his way two thousand cubits behind the ark? Hear then what he says: And I said: Now have I begun; this change is of the right hand of the Most High (Psal. LXXVI). Scarcely at some time, he says, did I begin these same things, in that I who believed myself to have begun scarcely and late began to become good out of evil, just out of unjust. Such as I found myself, such I declared myself to be, nor was I ashamed to confess my imperfection; but I said: Now have I begun; this change is of the right hand of the Most High. He does not say formerly, or from that time, but now. Nor does he deny that he has only now begun, lest you should think that he had remained more than two thousand cubits behind the ark. 1097DScarcely, when he records that he has at last laid hold of certain beginnings of good, does he show himself to be following after his ark according to the measure of the divine appointment. But, lest anyone believe that he ascribes even this very beginning of good to himself, let him hear what he joins to this saying: this change is of the right hand of the Most High. He could not be content to say, this change is of God, unless he said, this change is of the right hand of the Most High. The very one to whom he was unwilling to ascribe this work, he preferred to designate by a description. He calls him who did this the Most High, and he named the right hand. As if he said openly: He did this mightily who is accustomed to accomplish mighty things powerfully. It was indeed marvellous in his eyes to commit such a man from evil to good as he remembers himself once to have been. What, I ask, did that other man believe himself to have accomplished of the road of perfection, 1098Awho compared all his righteousnesses to the cloth of a menstruous woman? We have, therefore, how we ought to send our ark before our face to a fixed measure, so that, however much we hasten, we may never dare by presumptuous estimation to diminish anything of the space of two thousand cubits, judging that we have always scarcely attained the first beginnings of perfection. We ought therefore, so long as we are in the desert, to gather up the road of our furtherance in the furtherance of our ark, and by another consideration to know beforehand whither we must follow through zeal for a good manner of life.

• 1098B

But it is not of the same ease to arrange the order of the present life and to estimate the glory of the life to come, to examine the quality of merits and to weigh the quantity of the eternal rewards. For the things that are on earth we shall estimate with difficulty, and the things that are in view we shall find with labor; but the things that are in the heavens, who will be able to investigate? To find, therefore, the things that are on earth is difficult; but to investigate the things that are in the heavens is impossible. Hence it is that the Apostle admonishes: Be not, he says, high-minded (Rom. XI). Rightly, therefore, is the ark of the Lord brought in only after the entrance of the Hebrews into that land of promise, so that where our understanding is not allowed to break in by the steps of its own searching out, it may be led in by the hand-leading of divine revelation 1098C. Nor yet do we deny that there are some things — nay, many and great things — concerning the quality of the life to come which we can both seek by investigating, and find by reasoning, and construct by arguing. For the invisible things of God, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made. By no means, therefore, are those things to be neglected which can be found by investigation, just as those things which exceed our understanding and human reason are not to be presumed upon out of our own strength. The former are according to reason, the latter are above reason. The former we ought diligently to inquire into by deep searching out; the latter we ought humbly to await from divine revelation. The former belong to meditation, the latter to contemplation. 1098DNever is the mind fully kindled to the desire of eternal goods, unless it zealously premeditate of what sort and how great they are. And just as it never deserves to be lifted up to the contemplation of them without immense desire, so indeed it is not perfectly inflamed into longings for eternal things without vehement zeal. Hence it is that before Israel's entrance into the promised kingdom scouts are sent ahead, and yet the ark is not brought in until after the entry of the throng. For what is it to send scouts ahead before one's own entrance, and to wish to know beforehand by sagacious searching out the quality of that land into which we hasten to enter, but to direct the thoughts of one's mind, as scouts of the heavenly goods, into the searching of invisible things, and to appoint one's meditations to that work, 1099Aso that by investigation one may find whereby he can urge the throng of his affections into love of them? Let us therefore send our scouts ahead before our face, just as those Israelites once sent theirs, and not once only, but some after others and second after first. As often as we subtly seek anything concerning the goods to come that are to be hoped for or to be merited, we send messengers and scouts ahead before our very selves.

But it is one thing to seek of what sort, or how great, or of what kind are the goods we ought to hope for from the recompense of merits, and another to investigate zealously by what pursuits 1099Bor exercises we shall be able manfully to obtain them. The former is first, the latter second. The first is to investigate the goods to be hoped for, the second the goods to be done. For who would gird himself bravely for the contests of labors, unless he knew beforehand the greatness of the wage from the divine recompense? But what will it profit to believe and to desire the eternal recompense, unless with equal zeal a man seek to know by what pursuits of merits he may acquire it? It is necessary, therefore, to send messengers ahead after messengers, and to dispatch other scouts after the first. The first messengers are the scouts of rewards, the second messengers are the scouts of merits. The former are scouts of recompenses, the latter are scouts of works. So indeed the scouts who are sent by Moses are one set, and those scouts 1099Cwho are sent by Joshua another. Some are they whom the prophet of the Lord sends ahead, others they whom the athlete of the Lord sends ahead. The office of the prophet is one thing, the office of the athlete another. The office of the prophet is to foretell things to come, but the office of the athlete is to preordain the things to be done. To the one it belongs to know beforehand the things firmly to be believed; to the other it belongs to premeditate the things bravely to be done. The one is of foreknowledge, the other is of providence. It is the part of the former to foresee, of the latter to provide. For what is foresight, but the scouting of things to come? And what is providence, but the scouting of things to be done? We have, therefore, two kinds of scouts; each busy, each necessary. The first seems to belong to Moses, the second to 1099DJoshua. According to this likeness, therefore, some of our thoughts ought to be foreseers of things to come, others providers of things to be done, both indeed scouts of hidden things and searchers-out of things unknown. Do you wish to hear a man premeditating concerning things to come, after the likeness of Moses, sending scouts ahead before his face? I meditated, he says, in the night with my heart. Will God cast off for ever, and will he add no more, that he should be yet more well-pleased? or will he cut off his mercy unto the end, from generation to generation? or will God forget to show mercy? or will he in his anger shut up his mercies? (Psal. LXXVI.) Do you wish to hear a man providing concerning things to be done, and after the likeness of Joshua appointing scouts before himself? What, he says, shall I render to the Lord for all the things 1100Athat he has rendered to me? (Psal. CXV.) Do you wish to hear one of the subtle scouts — what he found by scouting, or what he answered out of his own judgment to that first question of the Prophet? God, he says, shall wipe away every tear from the eyes of the saints, and now there shall be no more mourning, nor crying, nor any sorrow at all, for the former things are passed away (Apoc. XXI). Behold how favorable a God this man foresaw in the time to come — he concerning whom David asks whether he will at some time be more well-pleased. But it looks, as I judge, to the second scouting, what he found elsewhere, whence also he says: It is good to give praise to the Lord, and to sing to thy name, O Most High (Psal. XCI). To the first scouts, therefore, it belongs to persuade negligent minds of what is just; but to the second, to instruct minds that are ready and prepared for all things for the things 1100Bto be done. Consider therefore what sort of tidings good scouts are wont to bring back from those regions, or how much these very things which they bring back avail to raise up minds; and strive to seek out other things and to report them, that you too may be able to raise up the minds of your hearers into longings for the like, it is the voice of a scout: This corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality (I Cor. XV). It is the voice of a scout: The just shall shine, and shall run to and fro like sparks among the reeds; they shall judge nations, and shall reign for ever (Sap. III). It is the voice of a scout: How great is the multitude of thy sweetness, O Lord, which thou hast hidden for them that fear thee! (Psal. XXX.) Is that excellent scout to be thought not to have entered that land flowing with milk and honey, and not diligently 1100Cto have surveyed it once seen, when he dares so boldly to promise to those who are to enter it? They shall be inebriated with the plenty of thy house, and thou shalt give them to drink of the torrent of thy pleasure (Psal. XXXV). Does he not seem in these words to run together with that saying of the scouts, where it is said: We entered, they say, into the land to which thou didst send us, which truly flows with milk and honey, as can be known from these fruits (Num. XIII).

One must, as I judge, apply oneself to this scouting more vehemently than to the other, and press upon the first meditation more frequently than upon the second, because it is easier to discern what is just than to persuade to what is laborious. 1100DHence it is, I judge, that the children of Israel send more men on the first mission, but on the second scouting fewer are sent. And rightly indeed. For in the first searching out, as has been said, there is made the scouting of rewards; but in the second scouting there is made the searching out of merits. But the rewards of the blessedness to come are incomparably greater than any merits of ours whatsoever can be. For the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come that shall be revealed in us. Many, therefore, are they who are sent the first time, but few they who are sent the second. Rightly are many sent where many things are sought, and for few things to be sought few are dispatched. There we find twelve, here two. There the number six, here the number one is doubled 1101A. Unity, from which the number six takes its beginning, rightly designates inception, just as the number six, by reason of its own perfection, is agreed to designate perfection. What therefore is sought there pertains to perfection, not to inception; but what is found here seems to pertain to inception, and not to perfection. There is the perfection of our glorification; but here there is only a certain inception of our justification. In that glorification there will be the emptying out of all evils and the fullness of all goods. But in this our justification there is neither a full extermination of vices nor a perfect consummation of virtues. There, full security, perfect gladness. Here, neither full purity nor perfect integrity. There is full security, where no evil is feared. There is perfect gladness, where every good is possessed. 1101BHere there is no full purity, where vice struggles against us; here no perfect integrity, where infirmity holds sway. There, therefore, out of the twofold perfection of security and gladness one blessedness is consummated, so that the number six is doubled and the number twelve is completed; here, out of the twofold imperfection of purity and integrity, our justification takes its beginning, so that from the doubling of unity each number six may take the beginning of its own perfection unto the consummation of the number twelve. Rightly, therefore, are twelve scouts sent on that mission, where the blessedness of the twofold perfection is sought by investigation. Rightly are two dispatched on that delegation, where scarcely certain beginnings of a perfect justification are found. Finally there are twelve, if I remember well, who are sent on the first scouting, and there are twelve 1101Cthings which they are bidden to scout out. But there are also two who are sent on the second scouting, and two things which they are commanded to search out. There are many things that could be said concerning the first scouting; but these, that they may be worthily set forth, require a syntasma of their own.

But that we may say something more at large concerning the second, it suffices in that scouting to seek sufficiently those things which can suffice for that prophetic admonition: Turn away from evil, and do good (Psal. XXXVI). It suffices, I say, shrewdly to provide how cautiously we may beware of evils, how discreetly we may accomplish goods. One premeditation is in the evils to be avoided, another premeditation in 1101Dthe goods to be fulfilled. But although each is other than the other, yet neither ought to be without the other. Let them go together, let them run together, and let them succor one another in turn; and without the help of the one or the other they never fully complete their business. These, as I judge, are the two scouts — provident caution against evil, provident shrewdness in good — whom we ought to send ahead before our face, and by whom we should try out beforehand the roads of our progress: Go, says Joshua, and consider the land and the city of Jericho (Josue II). Consider, he says, the land and the quality of its regions; inquire diligently into the suitability of the places, that we may know beforehand in what place we can more suitably pitch camp, whither in a moment of necessity it may be expedient to turn aside, whence we must seek the things necessary for daily uses. Consider therefore and inquire into whatever things are useful, whatever 1102Aare suitable and necessary for our uses. But consider not only the goods, but the evils also, the advantages and the disadvantages, the fortifications and the dangers. Consider therefore the land and the city of Jericho. Consider the city, the strength of its fortifications and the multitude of its enemies, that we may be able to know how we must order the siege, in what manner to assault it, against what sort of men to wage war. Look therefore upon the land and the city. Look upon the land which God made, and the city which human invention established. Examine the good which God created for our good, and the evil which man invented to his own evil. Consider the land and the city, nature and custom. Distinguish the good of creation and the evil of corruption, the good of our making and the evil of custom. If we know the good of nature, 1102Bwe know what we ought to cultivate, what to nourish, what to multiply. If we discern the evil of our own habits, we do not doubt what enemies we must beware of, what adversaries we must assault, what sort of foes we must slay. Behold what manner of scouts we ought to send ahead before our entry, that we may know against what evils to be on guard and unto what goods to be done we ought to keep watch. He who sends such scouts ahead before his face will by no means dread the byways of errors.

But that army of virtues advances securely, and has no diffidence about the certainty of the way, which the sagacity 1102Cof the scouts instructs. and the ordered precedence of the ark directs on its journey. Let it be too little for us to dispatch scouts before the throng of the Hebrews; let us make our ark also go before our face in the tracks of the scouts. First it is to search out and find the reason of the things to be done by the scouting of our meditations; and afterwards at last it must be brought into contemplation, that we may be able to have it known, and ready, and familiar. Contemplation belongs to the carrying forward of the ark, as meditation to the scouting. One thing belongs to contemplation, another to meditation. It is meditation's part to search out hidden things; it is contemplation's part to wonder at things clearly seen. For meditation is the zealous investigation of hidden truth. Contemplation is the glad wonder at truth clearly seen. But the things that are hidden 1102Dare wont to come forth into manifestation, now from one's own meditation, now from divine revelation. Where, therefore, we have the grace of revelation present, we do not need the office of meditation. But where divine revelation is wanting, the human mind — and no wonder — of necessity has recourse to the zeal of meditation, and takes refuge, as it were, in the offices of the scouts. But whatever the human mind can come to know concerning the instruction of morals by the scouting of meditations, it ought again to bring into contemplation, and to strengthen the mind in the certainty and the desire of those things. But when the discovery of meditation is brought into contemplation, what else is it than that the way previously scouted is retraced for the carrying forward of the ark, so that the troop of virtues may follow after securely without suspicion 1103Aof straying? By meditation, therefore, it is brought about that whatever ought profitably to be done is not unknown. But contemplation too is wont to accomplish this: that the truth discovered may cleave the more tenaciously to the memory, and the more keenly inflame desire. By meditation 1104Atherefore we are instructed unto good, and by contemplation we are made solid in good. This is the reason, as I judge, why we ought to try out beforehand the way of our progress both by the scouting of meditation and by the going forward of the intellectual ark.

• 1103A

It is pleasing to consider this also: what it is that the Lord commands — to gather stones from the midst of the Jordan, from the place where the feet of the priests stood 1103B, and to set them in the place of the camp, and to lay others, gathered from anywhere at all, in the former place. Let us ask, therefore, what that place is where the feet of the priests halt at the time when the miracle is to be wrought, or in what place likewise the camp is to be pitched after the miracle has been celebrated. Who would doubt that it is above human power that the Jordan should go back, and that a heap of waters should rise up into one mass? Who, I ask, unless he were out of his mind, would presume upon so stupendous a miracle from his own power? Where, then, ought the mind to fix its hope under the expectation of so great a thing, save in trust in the divine magnificence? A safe place of standing, and one of great security, is presumption upon the help of the divine mercy. But there is another place very unlike this place, namely the stealing in of diffidence and of despair. 1103CA place indeed dreadful, full of fear, full of solicitude, and such as it befits at last to fortify with camps, to gird with a rampart, to surround with watches, because on account of impending dangers it is not safe to go forward into what lies beyond. The former we run into at the time of the divine visitation, the latter at the time of testing. For the dispensation of the divine mercy is wont to comfort a man with its visitation, and again to test him with various kinds of temptations: Thou visitest him, says Job, early in the morning, and suddenly thou provest him (Job VII). Behold, we have assigned two places, one of confidence, the other of diffidence; the one where divine miracles are wont to come to pass, the other where the camp must be pitched. They that trust in the Lord shall change their strength, they shall take 1103Dwings as eagles, they shall run and not faint. Is it not wholly above man to change one's strength, to fly after the likeness of an eagle, to run and not faint? Yet these things they alone can do who presume upon the mercy of the Lord and not upon their own strength. So Peter was able to run upon the waves so long as he held the place of confidence with the foot of hope (Matth. XIV). But after he began to forsake this place of his security, the wave could no longer hold him poised upon its surface. You see how a strong wind coming upon him cast him down from the place of confidence to the place of diffidence, because the Lord, after his manner, had visited him early in the morning and suddenly had tested him. So the children of Israel, after the miracle had been wrought and seen, came to the place of the camp.

• 1104A

1104BWe have assigned the difference of the places; let us see also the two kinds of stones. I think there is one kind, of good stones, and I think there is another, of evil stones. To the good stones belongs every confirmation of the mind in good; but to the evil stones, every hardening of the mind in evil. What do you think? Solidity, stability, firmness, weight, and many things after this manner — do they not seem to you to draw to themselves a certain likeness of stones, and by the right of that likeness justly to claim such a name for themselves? What do we say of hardness of heart, of tenacity or obstinacy? what of harshness, austerity, and cruelty? Do not those things claim for themselves the name of stone which draw to themselves the likeness of stones? But the former belong to the good stones, as these latter to the evil stones. 1104CBut I think it is not of the same ease to find good stones or evil ones, because it is more difficult to find good stones than an abundance of evil ones. For everything precious is rare. The good, therefore, are gathered from the midst of the Jordan, but the evil from any places whatsoever. Concerning the former, Scripture plainly designates where they must be sought or found; but concerning the latter it judges it as it were superfluous to determine the place of their discovery.

But this seems wonderful and worthy of great wonder: that we are bidden to lay good stones, gathered from a good place, in an evil place, but to heap up evil stones 1104Dgathered from anywhere in a good place. The good place is the presumption of confidence, the evil place the despair of diffidence. But nevertheless we ought to gather evil stones in the place of confidence, and to gather good stones in the place of diffidence. In the day of good things be not unmindful of evils — and you have gathered evil stones in a good place; and in the day of evils be not unmindful of good things — and you have gathered good stones in an evil place. For what is it to gather good stones from the midst of the Jordan (that is, from the place where the prodigy was wrought), but diligently to go back over the state of the mind, such as it was at the time of the divine visitation, and subtly to investigate of what firmness it stood in each several virtue, and, by committing this to memory, to raise up as it were a certain cairn of testimony? But we never have an abundance of such stones 1105Aunless we have first received the grace of the divine visitation and inspiration. He testifies to this who says: Without me you can do nothing (Joan. XV); therefore neither is it possible anywhere to gather good stones save by his working. But we easily find an innumerable multitude of evil stones, which we gather abundantly and ready to hand out of our whole life. What need, then, was there to designate a place for these, which we can gather plentifully from anywhere? Let each one, therefore, consider of what hardness, of what obstinacy he was, as often as divine grace forsook him and left him to himself: and in doing this he has raised a cairn of evil stones. In this manner, therefore, we can raise cairns and set them up, different ones on different sides — on this side one of good stones, on that another of evil stones. He set up for himself a heap of good stones 1105Bwho said: I will never forget thy justifications, for by them thou hast given me life (Psal. CXVIII). He had raised a cairn of evil stones when he said: For I know my iniquity, and my sin is always against me (Psal. L).

So do you too: when you have perceived that you yourself hold the place of confidence, and have observed that you presume upon things higher than your merits, remember at once what you once were, and, turning your eyes back to the heap of evil stones, you keep yourself in humility. It is indeed good 1105Cto presume, yet not upon your own strength, but upon the mercy of the Lord. Let the gathering of evil stones in a good place avail each man for this: that through the memory of his own evils he may never presume upon his own powers. That each one, then, may learn to presume not upon himself but upon the Lord, let the recollection of his own evils always meet him in the place of presumption: that trust of presumption, surely, appeases the Lord and obtains great things, which humility commends. They that trust in the Lord are as mount Sion. So, on the contrary, that trust of presumptions is abominable which pride begets. For a king is not saved by his own great strength, and a giant shall not be saved by the multitude of his own strength. Cursed therefore is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm 1105D: for he shall be as the tamarisks in the desert, and shall not be satisfied when the summer heat is come, how useful, then, do we suppose, will be in a place of this kind that gathering of evil stones which we have prescribed, and that recollection of vices, which will be able to keep us from this execrable type of pride, and to protect us from a curse of this kind.

So indeed, when danger is at hand and temptation comes upon you, when you have perceived that your mind is touched by despair, and cast down to the place of diffidence, and rolled down to the appointed place of the camp, you ought to have the cairn of good stones present, and to turn your eyes back to the memory of virtues 1106Apast, and out of the recollection of them to refashion the trust of your hope. So Job, stripped of his goods, bereft of his sons, smitten with a sore, when he saw himself caught in the place of the camp, and perceived himself beaten by the evil of despair, in order to temper the evil of diffidence had recourse to the pile of good stones, and out of the recollection of good things fortified his camp on every side, and bravely drove back the assaults of despair, when he says: I was an eye to the blind, and a foot to the lame; I was the father of the poor, and the cause which I knew not I searched out diligently. I broke the jaws of the wicked man, and out of his teeth I took away the prey (Job XXIX). So too Hezekiah, in a moment of necessity, had recourse to fortifications of stones of this kind, when he despaired of his life; and out of the setting forth of his own good acts 1106Bhe called forth the mercy of the Lord, and by the obtaining of his prayers drove off the perils of diffidence: Remember, he says, O Lord, how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy eyes (IV Reg. XX). And so we too ought to be held ready and familiar at every time of temptation, to keep present the memory of the goods done before; and when we shall have brought this habit into continual use, we have, as it were, placed good stones — and stones chosen according to the divine instruction — in the place of the camp. For it is nothing else to gather chosen stones into one place than diligently to go back over the qualities of the divine confirmation and corroboration and to commit them to memory 1106C; and it is nothing else to have fixed them in the place of the camp than to have firmly made a habit of such memory at every moment of temptation.

And these we gather from the midst of the channel of the Jordan, dried up by the power of God, and to the number of the twelve tribes, when we diligently examine the state of our mind, such as it was at the time of the divine visitation, and subtly search out what sort of men we were at that time in each of the principal virtues, in some measure. For this is for single men from single tribes to take up each his own stone: to have truly found of how great firmness one once stood, in some measure, with respect to each several virtue 1106Dthrough the grace of the divine breathing. But what we think concerning the twelve sons of Jacob, from whom these twelve tribes draw their origin, we have already said in another place. By Reuben and Simeon we understand fear and compunction; by Levi, hope; by Judah, charity; by Issachar, gladness; by Zebulun, severity; in Gad is understood abstinence; in Asher, patience; in Dan and Naphtali, circumspection and speculation; in Joseph and Benjamin, discretion and the contemplation of invisible things. But the reason of these we now wish to set forth in this place, concerning which we have already said elsewhere what seemed to us more correct. But let him who trusts that his seed from such offspring has been multiplied into twelve tribes learn what sort of stones he ought to have taken up from the midst of the Jordan, 1107Awhen he shall have advanced this progeny of virtues as far as its crossing. Let him therefore call to mind what strength, what fortitude or firmness he felt himself to have drawn in at the breathing of the divine inspiration; and this is to have taken up chosen stones from the determined place. But that this choosing of stones may be made by single men from single tribes, let him exercise this labor of his consideration through each of the virtues which we have distinguished, and extend the number of his stones as far as the number twelve. Let him therefore consider, whoever desires after the turning back of the Jordan to fulfill this precept of the Lord; let him consider, I say, of what vigor he was, in some measure, in each several virtue at the time of the divine visitation. Let him consider how great solidity he had at that time in fear, how great weight in compunction, 1107Bhow great stability in hope, how great integrity in charity, how great maturity in gladness, how great harshness in severity. Let him consider how austere he was in abstinence, how robust in patience, how solicitous in circumspection, how assiduous in speculation, how certain in discretion, how quiet in contemplation. But when he shall have fully discerned all these things and committed them to memory, he has raised such a cairn as was needful. It would be a business without end, and one which no one at all could have fulfilled, if the Lord had bidden all men from all the tribes to take up each his own stone, because no one would suffice to weigh himself worthily — what he is with respect to all things, I will not say in every virtue, but in one only, whichever it be. It suffices, therefore, to set apart some one 1107Cnotable and signal desire of his own ardor through all these virtues which we have determined, and to establish the use of such a memory, and in recollection of this kind, under every peril of diffidence, to fight against the evil of despair. For he easily restores his own mind, however cast down, however beaten by temptation, to the hope of the divine compassion and to the state of confidence, who calls back to memory what manner of man he once was by the divine working. Altogether and without doubt he gladly exercises himself in such a pursuit, to whom it has been given to know what it avails, or that this zealous collecting of stones of this kind is useful.

1107DHow useful, I ask, do we suppose that stone to be which we set in the first place, namely the solidity of fear, through which the mind is founded upon the solid ground of humility. And how much it avails, that saying of the Lord proves which says: Upon whom shall my Spirit rest, save upon the humble, and the quiet, and him that trembleth at my words? (Isa. LVI.) This is the stone of stumbling and the rock of scandal, unless perchance you doubt that this is the stone which the builders rejected, and which is become the head of the corner. For proud minds, and such as wish to establish their own righteousness, are wont to suffer nothing more grievously, to be indignant at nothing more, than to appear despised and to be seen as worthless.

• 1108A

But the second stone also, which has been called the weight of compunction, I think can be found in Jeremiah, who sought waters for his head that he might bewail the slain of his people (Jer. V); and I do not doubt that it was given him by him who turned the rock into pools of waters, and the crags into fountains of waters. This same rock I think can be found in Peter, in that, touched inwardly with grief of heart, he went forth outside and wept bitterly, striking the flint twice; and most abundant waters came forth, and there was made a watering above and a watering below.

1108BThe third rock, which is the longsuffering of hope, I do not doubt can be found in Job, from which he poured out for himself rivers of oil, wherewith also he soothed the pains of his body. For he hoped until the morning amid so many losses and wounds of griefs, never drained of the oil of his hope, nowhere diffident of the anointing of the divine mercy: Although he should kill me, saying, I will hope in him (Job XIII).

The fourth rock likewise I find in Peter, to whom we do not doubt it was said by the Lord: Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church (Matth. XVI), in that he loved the Christ of the Lord with his 1108Cwhole heart, and with his whole soul, and with his whole mind, truly acknowledging that he was the Christ, the Son of the living God. Where, I beseech you, is the integrity of charity to be found, if you do not find it in Peter, who before the searcher of hearts dares to profess and to say: Lord, thou knowest that I love thee? (Joan. XXI.)

But who would dare to doubt that the fifth rock is in that people whom the Prophet of the Lord, among the other teachings of his prophecy, calls blessed? Blessed, he says, is the people that knoweth jubilation (Psal. LXXXVIII). Who indeed would deny that they are blessed whom the Lord fed with the fat of wheat, and filled them with honey out of the rock: for he laid up gladness and exultation in store 1108Dupon them. You perceive, as I judge, what sort of thing it is to possess this stone also among the rest, which flows with the honey of gladness, and satisfies with inward sweetness him that enters into the joy of his Lord. What will it be, I ask, as often as occasion serves, to be filled with honey out of the rock, and on the way to drink of the torrent of pleasure and be inebriated? This is that fifth stone, as has been said, which has been called the maturity of gladness. Let him therefore have nothing of levity, let nothing perishable, nothing carnal have savor for him; but let him compose his mind to the great weight of maturity, who hungers and thirsts for this alone which flows from this stone.

But that man, as I judge, was fighting in the sixth stone, 1109Ato whom it was said by the Lord: Behold, I have made thy face stronger than their faces, and thy forehead harder than their foreheads; as adamant and as flint have I made thy face (Ezech. III). Jeremiah therefore was grinding down the provoking house of Israel with adamant and flint, in that it was of a worn-down forehead and a hard heart; and standing in the gate of the house of the Lord he announced to them their crimes, fearing neither their words nor their faces. This stone that king holds in his hands who is strong and mighty in battle, in whom the strong man armed was cast down, and the warlike man from his youth. For David prevailed against the Philistine with a sling and a stone in the name of the Lord. You surely see with what arms that stripling, both despised and small of stature, cast down Goliath, that most monstrous giant, in that 1109Bhe had been taught by the Lord to have manns skilled for the fight and his fingers for war. He had indeed arms not carnal, but mighty through God unto the destruction of fortifications; and he was in them fighting and destroying every height that lifted itself up against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every understanding unto the obedience of Christ. For he understood above all that taught him, and therefore he confidently announced the justice of the Lord in the great Church, as he himself both bore witness of himself concerning the past and promises concerning the future: I have declared, he says, thy justice in the great Church; lo, I will not restrain my lips: O Lord, thou hast known it (Psal. XXXIX). And so you have ready to hand to avenge all disobedience: he rebuked the haughty, he corrected the unquiet, and in the stone of most harsh rebuke and in the harshness 1109Cof correction he cast down the adversaries of truth. And though he was a man most gentle among his people and most meek — Remember, saying, O Lord, David, and all his meekness (Psal. CXXXI) — though he was, I say, of so great meekness, nonetheless he slew in the morning all the sinners of the earth, that he might destroy out of the city of the Lord all that work iniquity.

We have said that the seventh stone is the austerity of abstinence. Upon this rock the father of Samson offered a holocaust to the Lord, and obtained to beget from a barren woman the strongest of men, to the ignominy of the nations 1109Dand to the glory of his own people Israel (Judic. XIII). He was ashamed indeed to have fed for some while at last a barren woman, and one that beareth not; and thereafter he would not — as neither ought he — be a debtor to the flesh, to live according to the flesh; but chastising his body and bringing it into servitude, and immolating the flesh of kids upon the rock of abstinence, and consuming the broth of the flesh together with the flesh itself by fire received from heaven, and restraining the flowing things of the body, he willed thenceforth no more to go after his own lusts. And so, the assault of the flesh being tamed, he strengthened the assault of the spirit, which is made stronger by the infirmity of the flesh.

After these stones there follows the strength of patience: which 1110Astone I recall that I reckoned in the eighth place. Behold a stone most strong, and the hardest of all. This stone that standard-bearer of the heavenly warfare, the protomartyr Stephen, holds in his hands, and it became for him a tower of strength against the face of the enemy. In this stone he bravely endured the blows of the stones that pressed upon him, and he feared neither the hands of them that stoned him nor the onset of them that gnashed with their teeth at him (Act. VII). O stone strong and hard, yet full of sweetness! O breast most robust, yet full of mercy! You wonder, whoever you are that hear, how in his patience he possessed his soul; but you ought rather to have wondered how his mind, under so great a bitterness of persecution, did not lose its own sweetness. By his enemies he was pressed, and for his enemies he prayed. He was enduring human savagery, and 1110Bhe was looking up to the divine glory: Behold, he says, I see the heavens opened, and Jesus standing at the right hand of the power of God (ibid.). On earth he was pressed, and from the heavens he was consoled. He was afflicted by the misery brought upon him, he was moved by the mercy grown within him, he rejoiced at the glory beheld. Behold, at one and the same time he saw below that whereat he might have compassion, he saw above that whereat he might be glad. Behold how from the same breast there flowed mercy with gladness, gladness with mercy. Behold how from the same vessel there flows oil with honey, the oil of mercy with the honey of gladness. What, I ask, is this unmingled confusion and unconfused commingling of oil and honey in that stone? I marvel if you do not marvel how that strong fighter at one and the same moment sucked honey out of the rock and oil out of the hardest crag. 1110CMarvellous is the virtue of patience; and who may worthily weigh the price of this rock, which in so great abundance distils oil with honey? How great an abundance of oil and of honey, I ask, is found to be within, where mercy is diminished by no malice, where sweetness is thinned by no grief? Nay, in a wondrous manner delight grows out of grief, and compassion out of suffering. The martyr indeed, when he was being stoned, had more pity upon his enemies than upon his own limbs. For kneeling down he prayed, saying: Lord, lay not this sin to their charge, for they know not what they do (ibid.). Behold, at the placing of his knees the oil was poured out, and thereafter his name was made as oil poured out. For at the pitying of his enemy the pouring out of the oil was made, so much so that 1110Dthe young man who sat at a distance was sprinkled with the odor of the ointment. For when the body was bowed and the head bent down, the oil began to flow forth, and it was made as ointment upon the head, and it ran down to the hem of the garment of him who kept the garments. Rising up therefore swiftly, he who had long sat in dark places and in the shadow of death began to run after the odor of the ointments; and exulting as a giant to run his way, whithersoever was the onset of the Spirit, thither he went, and thereafter he became the good odor of Christ in every place.

The ninth rock I find in Hezekiah; I find it also in the friend's bride and the bridegroom's friend, to whom 1111Ait is said in the Canticles: Arise, my friend, my beautiful one, and come, my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow of the wall (Cant. II). So too Hezekiah, after the likeness of the bride choosing quiet and seeking after solitude, and sitting in the clefts of the rock, or even in the hollow of the wall, cried out thus as the young of a swallow, and meditated as a dove: Oh who will give me wings like a dove's, and I will fly away and be at rest, if perchance I may be able to fly forth into that place where the sparrow has found herself a house, and the turtledove a nest where she may lay her young! Where, I ask, will anything of safety be found, if it be not found in the clefts of a rock of this kind, where zealous premeditation foresees whatever dangers before they come to pass, and, forestalling the things to come, gathers the future out of the past, and often knows beforehand the undoubted 1111Boutcomes of doubtful matters? For what else is circumspection, but the solicitous and sagacious searching out of the evils that stand round about? To this belongs the going back over past evils, the consideration of present ones, the premeditation of those to come, so that according to its own name it may truly be circumspection. The assiduity of this makes a man cautious, and, so far as is possible, renders him safe.

The tenth stone has been called the assiduity of speculation. Jacob, turning away from evil and giving place to wrath, while he sets out abroad in haste, lest his flight should be in the winter or on the Sabbath, found this stone upon the road, 1111Cand having found it placed it under his head, lest he should not have where to lay his head while he slept upon the way (Gen. XXVIII). Upon this stone, in peace, in the selfsame he sleeps and rests, and upon the road he found that rest which they cannot find even in chambers and on purple couches who are clothed in soft garments and are in the houses of kings. And so, Jacob's head being laid down upon this stone, and the eyes of concupiscence being closed (which we read were open in our first parent), while upon this headrest he is lulled in deep quiet, while he gladly forgets all outward things, his mind wakes up to inward things, and sees what before, while waking and seeing, it could not see. A ladder reaching up to heaven is raised before his eyes, and the Lord is seen leaning upon the ladder, so that through invisible form and the figure of invisible things 1111Dthe mind of the beholder may be lifted up into the understanding of intelligible things. Happy the man for whom the knowledge of visible things becomes a ladder for knowing invisible things. A beautiful spectacle it is to see the rungs of this ladder set in fitting manner and in due proportion, and carried up to the topmost point by the continuity of an ordered distinction, so that through the manifold difference of creatures and the gradation of dignities, ordinately distinguished and distinctly ordered, the mind may little by little advance itself to higher things, and by the steps of its furtherance climb ever to loftier things, until the invisible things of God, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, and the Lord is seen leaning upon the ladder. Who, I ask, would see this, save one sleeping upon this headrest? who while awake would bring it about that he should stretch out the ladder of his ascent 1112Aas far as heaven, and join the speculation of invisible things to the speculation of visible things? What of this, that upon this path of ascent the play of an angelic meeting offers itself unbidden, so that divine revelation may come to meet human investigation? And so the angels are seen upon this ladder now to ascend, now indeed to descend, and now to instruct the mind toward the highest things, now toward the lowest, so that in things divine and human it may come to know from divine revelation many things which it could not know by itself. And indeed the angels could, without the ministry of a ladder, at the choice of their own desire either descend into the lowest places or fly forth to the highest; nor would there be need for the divine inspiration, in any manifestation of its revelations, to seek the instrument of any bodily likeness, unless it willed that we should see first through 1112Ba glass and in a dark manner, and not at once face to face. And so the angels ascend and descend upon this ladder of likenesses, and some after others now approach, now depart, so that while of the manifold revelations one is brought in and another withdrawn, the mind of the beholder may be illumined in manifold fashion, in order that what it could not grasp all at once, by reason of the slenderness of its understanding, it may understand successively and one by one through intervals of delay. Behold what they find who fall asleep upon this stone. Happy they for whom that is turned into a ladder which for others is wont to be unto ruin. Happy they for whom the knowledge of outward things becomes a ladder of ascent, not a ruin of casting down. Happy they for whom that knowledge which puffs up is not unto puffing up, but unto the inflaming of her that buildeth up. Happy they for whom the beauty of temporal things becomes 1112Can incitement to eternity. It behooves therefore, as you perceive, him who desires to find this ladder of ascent to lay his head upon the stone, and to harden his mind in the desire of this speculation, and persistently to press upon this pursuit.

We have said that the certainty of discretion is the eleventh stone; and if we seek it diligently, we find it soonest in Paul. For he so trusts in the gift of discretion, he so presumes upon the certainty of his own counsel, that he confidently gives counsel where he has no precept of the Lord: Concerning virgins, he says, I have no precept of the Lord, but I give counsel (I 1112DCor. VII). Hence it is that he sets himself before others as an example of manner of life, and shows his own life to his followers as a form of living, when he says: Be ye imitators of me, as I also am of Christ (I Cor. XL). And rightly indeed, in that the Lord set his feet upon a rock and directed his steps. With stones of this kind, as I judge, was the way of those travellers paved concerning whom the Prophet cries out in wonder: How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, of them that bring glad tidings of good things! (Rom. X.) With these stones, unless I am deceived, that great patriarch Joseph, whom the prince of peoples set as lord of his house and prince of all his possession, that he might instruct his princes as his own self, and teach his elders prudence. With these stones, I say, he is rightly believed to have paved the streets of Egypt 1113A, so much so that the children of Israel had no need to serve in clay and brick all the days of their life. The Prophet was still enduring a scarcity of these stones, and was laboring under a great want of discretion, while he was yet fixed in the mire of the deep, because the certainty of a settled counsel was not yet established for him — so much so that he cried out to the Lord and said: How long shall I take counsels in my soul? (Psal. XVIII.) But he would never have fully emerged from this deep of mire, had he not at last at some time found this rock of which we speak: Upon a rock, he says, he hath exalted, me, and now he hath lifted up my head above my enemies (Psal. XXVI). He who does not pave a way for himself out of this kind of stones never walks cleanly, never plants steady steps. He therefore who wishes 1113Bto walk firmly and honorably ought to do nothing at all unadvisedly; and it is plain that he has paved a way for himself with such a stone as he ought, and he can walk securely. Do all things, says the Wise Man, with counsel, and thou shalt never repent (Eccle. XXXII).

The twelfth stone, and the last of all, we can find, as I judge, at the Lord's sepulchre. It has been called, as was said above, lapis is the tranquillity of contemplation. Of this kind of stones that Joseph of Arimathea hewed out sepulchres for himself; but Jesus, dead, rested in it, because the quiet which prudence seeks for itself through meditation and describes by definition, wisdom finds through contemplation 1113Cand lays hold of by experience. True prudence always seeks, and always ought to seek, that peace which Christ taught, that it may not be troubled nor be afraid. It always strives after where it may find such peace, always endeavors to defend true security for itself; but it always finds something to grieve over out of the past, something to fight against in the present, something to beware of and to dread for the future. The mind, therefore, can shrewdly seek this peace through prudence and subtly investigate it through meditation; yet it will never be able to find it save through wisdom and the grace of contemplation. But when the mind has begun through pure understanding to go beyond its very self, and wholly to enter into that brightness of incorporeal light 1113D, and to draw from the things which it sees in its inmost parts a certain savor of inmost sweetness, and from that to season its own understanding and to turn it into wisdom, then so far, in this excess of mind, is that peace found and obtained which is neither troubled nor afraid, that there is made a silence in heaven as it were for half an hour, so that the mind of the contemplative is troubled by no tumult of contending thoughts: you will find nothing at all which it may either seek through desire, or reprove through disgust, or accuse through hatred. And so he is composed unto the highest peace who is buried in this stone, who is wholly gathered in and shut up within the tranquillity of contemplation. For this stone is not, like that of Jacob, set under the head alone, nor is it, like that later one, spread beneath the feet, but it is fitted and applied to the whole 1114Abody. And so this stone encircles the whole body, encloses the whole, and comprehends it on every side, in that that peace which surpasses all understanding utterly absorbs every human sense, and by a happy transfiguration turns the purer part of the soul into a certain divine habit. Here the body lies without sense and motion in this monument of the Lord; sensuality does nothing, imagination does nothing, and every lower power of the soul is meanwhile clothed with its own office.

For this stone monument does not (as that craggy headrest of the patriarch Jacob does) take up a living body, however lulled asleep, nor does it receive a body unless it be mortified. It is one thing to sleep, another to die. It is one thing to gather one's whole spirit into itself, 1114Band another to lift it above itself and to forsake oneself. It is one thing to have curbed appetite and to have cut away from the heart the care of outward things, and another that the heart itself should come into forgetfulness of itself. It must be, therefore, before it is permitted to enter into that secret place of inmost quiet and that hidden chamber of the highest tranquillity — it must be, I say, that there take place that very grave and truly wondrous thing: not the dissolution of soul and body, but another far more wondrous and far more glorious than this, that one, in short, of which this is a type, namely the division of soul and spirit. And this, as the Apostle testifies, that living and effectual word of God is wont to work in us, more piercing than any two-edged sword, and reaching unto the division of soul and spirit. What, I ask, anywhere among creatures is discerned more wondrous than this division, where 1114Cthat which is essentially one and undivided is cleft into itself, and that which stands simple in itself and without parts is divided and separated from itself? For in one man the essence of his spirit is not one thing and that of his soul another, but altogether one and the same substance, and of a simple nature. For in this twofold term a twofold substance is not understood; but when a twofold power of the same essence is set down for the sake of distinction, the one, the higher, is designated by "spirit," the other, the lower, by "soul." In this division, therefore, the soul and what is animal remains below; but the spirit and what is spiritual flies forth to the heights. What is gross and dreggy fails like a body deadened, and falls back into itself 1114Dand beneath its very self; what is subtle and purged ascends like a spirit breathed forth, and transcends within and beyond its very self. O deep quiet, O sublime rest, where everything that is wont to be moved after a human manner loses all motion, where every motion that then is comes about divinely, and passes over into God! Here that Spirit breathed forth and commended into the hands of the Father does not need a ladder, as did that dreamer Jacob, that it may fly forth to the third — not to say the first — heaven. Why, I ask, should he need a ladder whom the Father bears between his hands, to snatch him to the secrets of the third heaven, so much so that he glories and says: Thy right hand hath upheld me. Thou hast held my right hand, and by thy will thou hast conducted me, and with glory thou hast received me? (Psal. XVII.) That Spirit, therefore, 1115Ataken up out of the midst, has here no need of the office of a ladder, nor does it need in that ascent of its own subtlety to be supported by the shadowing forth of any bodily likeness, where it sees face to face, not through a glass and in a dark manner. I lie, if they themselves who are of this kind do not assert the same concerning themselves: But we all, they say, beholding the glory of the Lord with unveiled face, are transformed into the same image from brightness to brightness, as by the Spirit of the Lord (II Cor. III). You surely see what it does, and you understand, as I judge, what that division of soul and spirit avails, of which we have already spoken above. The spirit is divided from the lowest things that it may be raised to the highest. The spirit is cleft from the soul that it may be united to the Lord. For he who cleaves to the Lord is one spirit. Happy division, and separation to be longed for, where that which 1115Bis discerned to be passible, to be corruptible, meanwhile dies to its own passions, so far that nothing of passibility, nothing of corruptibility is meanwhile felt; where also that which is spiritual, which is subtle, is raised up even to the speculation of the divine glory, and is transformed into the same image. The lower part, therefore, is composed unto the highest peace and tranquillity, but the higher part is raised up unto glory and gladness. So we have recognized that the face of Moses (the higher part indeed of the body) was glorified from fellowship with the Lord, so that the children of Israel could not look upon his countenance because of its brightness. Who, I ask, would suffice worthily to tell, who to unfold, what of perfection the spirit acquires in the glorification of its own excess, 1115Calthough it does not extend the prolonging of its pilgrimage as far as the third day, even if it does not draw out the delay of silence as far as half an hour, 1116Agranted that it goes and returns after the likeness of flashing lightning? So Moses brings back from the fellowship of the divine converse, together with a glorified countenance, horns also, showing what of power, what of strength he had drawn from companionship with him who gives power and strength to his people, the blessed God. That spirit therefore at last returns and comes back to itself which had gone far beyond itself; and what it had laid aside as passible and corruptible it takes up again as it were impassible and incorruptible, by comparison with its former state, and rises again into newness of life. What does it seem to you, to grow cheerful at an injury inflicted, not to blush at a contumely cast in one's teeth, to rejoice over tribulation? is not this to walk in newness of life, and after some manner to show oneself impassible, and not to lie subject 1116Bto one's own passions? Behold how far they advance who rest in this stone. There are many things which could have been said concerning this matter, if they ought to have been said in this place and did not exceed the measure of a moderate digression. For I think this last kind of stones to be the most worthy and most precious of all. Yet we ought to despise none, but to seek at least single ones out of the single kinds, and to gather them into one.

It is indeed to be noted that this is the first work which is commanded to be done in the land of promise, so that an eternal memorial of the divine works may be established first of all. For without this mound of stones that promise of the Lord of an eternal inheritance is never bravely acquired, never securely possessed. For he who forgets the benefits 1116Cdivinely received does not deserve to be advanced to the obtaining of greater things.