\^' And as James represents Him, saying. With Whom is no 17. vnriahleness, neitJier sliadotv of turning. Now whereas every innn, that apprehends something of the Eternal Being by Tlte Image of The Father. The Spirit Mir/hty and yet gentle. 291 contemplation, beliolds tlie Same tluou'^li His coctcrnal Book Image, it is rightly subjoined; An image was he/ore mine eye$.
64. For the Image of the Father is the Son, as Moses xxxv. teaches in the case of man at his creation; So God created Gen. i, man in His own image; in the Image of God created He '' him. And as the Wise Man, in the setting forth of Wisdom, saith concerning the same Son, For She is the bright nessViisd. of the everlasting light. And as Paul hath it, f^lio being '^^^' the brightness of His glorg, and the express Image ofUeh. i, His Person. When then His Eternity is perceived as far ' as the caj)ability of our frail nature admits. His Image is set before the eyes of the mind, in that when we really strain towards the Father, as far as we receive Him we see Him by His Image, i.e. by His Son. And by That Image, Which was born of Himself without beginning, we strive in some sort to obtain a glimpse of Him, Who hath neither beginning nor ending. And hence this same Tnith saith in the Gospel, No man cometk to the Father but by Me. And J^^"!**> it is well added, And I heard the voice as it were of a light breath.
65. For what is signified by ' the voice of a light breath,' xxxvi. but the knowledge of the Holy Spirit, Which proceeding firom the Father, and receiving of that which belongeth to the Son, is gently imparted to the knowledge of our John 16, frail nature? Yet when It came upon the Apostles, It^'*' is demonstrated by an outward sound, like a vehement blast, where it is said. And suddenly there came a sotind ^^^^'2, from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind. For when the Holy Spirit imparts Itself to the knowledge of frail humanity. It is both re|)resented by ' the sound of a rushing mighty wind,' and also by the * voice of a gentle breath,' clearly, in that when It comes. It is both * vehement' and * gentle;' ' gentle,' in that It tempers the knowledge of Itself to our perceptions, so as to be in some sort brought under our cognizance; * vehement,' in that however It may temper that same, yet by Its coming, It confounds while It illumines the darkness of our frail condition. For It touches us but lightly by Its enlightening inlluence, yet It shakes our emptiness with fearful might.
IT 2 '290. God chiefly knoicn by sliyht intimations.
Job 4, 6(3 gQ God's voice is heard as if of ' a light breath,' in that the Divine Being never imparts Himself as He is to those that contemplate Him while still in this life, but to the purblind eyes of our mind He discovers His bright- ness but scantily. Which is well represented by the very receiving of the Law itself, when it is said that Moses ascended, and God descended upon the Mount. For ' the Mount' is our very contemplation itself, whereinto we ascend, that we may be elevated to see those things which are beyond our frail nature; but the Lord descends thereupon, in that, when we advance much. He discloses some little concerning Himself to our perceptions, if either ' little' or ' somewhat' can be said to be in Him, Who, being always One and abiding the Same, cannot be understood by parts, and yet is said to be participated by His faithful servants, whereas ^ part' is nowise admissible in His Substance. But because we are unable to express Him with perfect speech, being hindered by the scanty measure of our human nature, as by the impotency of the infant state, we give back an echo of Him in some sort with stammering utter- j ance. But that when we are lifted up in high contemplation, it is somewhat refined that w^e attain unto in the knowledge I of the Eternal One, is shewn by the words of Sacred Stor}', when the illustrious Prophet Elijah is instructed in the knowledge of God. For when the Lord promised him that 1 Kmgs He would pass by before him, saying, And, behold, the Lord 12.' passeth by, a great and strong wind rending the mountains, and breaking in pieces the rocks before the Lord; He thereupon added, But the Lord is not in the tvind: and after the wind a quaking, but the Lord is not in the quaking: and after the quaking a fire, but the Lord is not in the *he fiY^; and after the fire, a still small voice. For the wind of a before the Lord overturns the mountains, and shatters the gentle ^ocV^, in that the affright, which rushes in upon us from His coming, both casts down the exaltation of our hearts, and melts their hardness. But the Lord is said not to be in the ' wind of quaking''' and in the fire, but it is not denied that He is ' in the still small voice,' in tliat verily when the '' Commotionis^ (Vulg.) without men- Oxf. Mss. however read commotioniy tiouofearf.h, need not mean earthquake, tlie •wind^ the quaking^ and x\\^ fire.
Elijah on the Mount a tyjje of content phition. '21)3 mind is Imng alolt in the height of eoiitemplatiun, whatever Book it has power to see perleclly and completely is not God, but when it sees something of great fineness, this is the same as that he hears belonging to the incomprehensible substance of the Deity- For we as it were perceive a still small voice^ when by a moment's contemplation we taste with finest sense the savour of incomprehensible trutli. Accordingly then onlv is there truth in what we know concernin": God, when we are made sensible that we cannot know any thing fully concerning Him. Hence it is well added in that place, And it was so v:hen Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face ill his mantle, and xcent out and stood at the entering in of the cave. After the still small voice, the Prophet covers his face with his mantle, because in that very refined contem- plation he learns in what a cloak of ignorance man is shrouded; for to draw the mantle over the face is to veil the mind by the consideration of its own infirmity, that it may never presume to seek things above it, that it never rashly open the eyes of the understanding beyond itself, but close them with a feeling of awe to that which it cannot apprehend. And he, in doing such things, is described to have stood at the entering in of the cave. For what is our cave but this dwelling-j)lace of our corrupt nature, wherein we are still held fast from remaining oldness.? But when we begin to take in something of the knowledge of the Divine Being, we as it were already stand * in the entering in of our cave;' for whereas we cannot make perfect progress, yet panting after the knowledge of the truth, we already catch something of the breath of liberty. So to ' stand at the entering in of the cave,' is, forcing aside the obstruction of our corrupt nature, to begin to issue forth to the knowledge of the truth. And hence upon the cloud descending on the Tabernacle, the Israelites seeing it afar off Ex. 33, are related to liave stood at the entering in of their tents, ^* in that they, who in some sort behold the coining of the Deity, as it were already issue forth from the habitation of the flesh. Therefore because with whatt'ver amplitude of virtue the human mind may have enlarged its compass, yet it scarcely knows the very outermost extremes that belong to the interior things, it is rightly said here, And I heard a voice an of a light breath; but as at the time tliat 294 Marias righteousness unriyhteous before God.
Job 4, the knowledge of the Deity shews us after all but little con- '■ — earning Itself, It is perfectly instructing the ignorance of our infirmness; let him that ' heard the voice of a light breath/ declare all that he learnt by that same hearing. It goes on; Ver. 17. Shall mortal man be 7nore Just than Qod? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker '^ xxxvii 67. Human righteousness compared with the righteousness of God is unrighteousness, for even a candle is seen to shine bright in the dark, but being set in the ray of the sun its light is darkened. What then did Eliphaz learn when he was transported in contemplation, saving that man cannot be justified in comparison with God } For we believe that what we do outwardly is righteous, but when we never at all acquaint ourselves with the things of the interior, we are as it were blind whilst set in the ray of the sun. But when we, * "°" little as we can, discern the one, it is not a little^ that we que judge the others, m that a man judges the darkness more 2 A.B. exactly, in proportion as the brightness^ of light is more p'^*. truly manifested to him. For he, that seeth light, knoweth ty,' what to account of the darkness, as he, that is ignorant of the whiteness of light, lets pass even dark objects for light ones. And it is rightly added. Shall a man be more pure than his Maker? For whoso murmurs at the stroke, what does he, but charge the justice of the striker.? Thus a man accounts himself more pure than his Maker, if he stirs complaint against the scourge, and without doubt he makes Him give place to himself. Whose judgment he blames in the case of his own affliction. Thus, that man may never dare charge his Judge with offence, let him humbly bethink himself that He is the Author of Nature; for He, That with marvellous skill made man out of nothing, does not pitilessly afflict him that He has made; which Eliphaz then learnt when he ' heard the voice as it were of a light breath.' For by the contemplation of the greatness of God we learn, how humbly we should abase ourselves with fear under His visitation. And he, that hath a taste of things above, bears with resignation all events below, in that he per- fectly sees within, whereat he should reckon that which he does without. For he miscounts himself righteous, who knows not the rule of the Supreme Righteousness. And it Aiigelic nature in itself liable to change, 295 often happens that a piece of wood is counted straight, if it ^00^ be not applied to the rule; but so soon as it is put thereto, '— we discover the degree of distortion wherewith it swells out, in that, truly, the straight line cuts oft' and condemns that, which the cheated eye approved as good. Thus l-^lipliaz, in that he beheld things above, delivered a strict judgment on all below, and though it was not rightly he reproved blessed Job, yet by comparison with the Creator of all things he rightly describes the measure of the creature, saying, Xer. 18, 19. Behold, His servants are not sted/ast, and in His Angels He found folly: Hoic much more i?i them that dwell in houses of clay^ whose foundation is in the dust, which shall be consu?ned as by the inoth / ()8. Though the Angelical nature, by being fixed in con- xxxviii lemplation of the Creator, remains unchangeable in its own state, yet hereby, tliat it is a created being, it admits in itself the variableness of change. Now to be changed is to go from one thing into another, and to be without stability in one's self. For every single being tends to some other thing by steps, as many in number as it is subject to motions of change. And it is only the Incomprehensible Nature, which knows not to be moved from its fixed state, in that It knows not to be changed from this, that It is always the Same. For if the essence of the Angels had been strange to the motion of change, being created well by its Maker, it would never have fallen in the case of reprobate spirits from the tower of its blessed estate. But Almighty God in a mar- vellous manner framed the nature of the highest spiritual \ existences good, yet at the same time capable of change; that both they, that refused to remain, might meet with ruin, and they, that continued in their own state of creation, might henceforth be stablished therein more worthily in ])ro])ortion as it was owing to their own choice, and become so much the more meritorious in God's sight, as they had staid the motion of their nmtability by the stablishing of the will.* I Whereas then this very Angelical nature too is in itself mutable, which same mutability it has hereby overcome, in that it is bound by the chains of love to Him, Who is ever the Same, it is now rightly said. Behold, His servants are not stedfast. And there is forthwith added a proof of tliis same •296 Human nature has its own moth of corruption.
Job 4, mutability, in that it is brought in from the case of the apostate — '■ — ^ spirits, And in His Angeh He found folly. And from the fall of these He rightly draws the consideration of human frailty, when he appends thereto; Hon- much more in them that dwell in houses if clay, whose foundation is earthly, which shall be consumed as by the moth. For we inhabit houses of clay,in that we subsist in earthly bodies. Which Paul consider- 2 Cor. ing saith well; But toe have this treasure in earthen vessels.
5' [' And again, For loe know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made witlt hands. ' The earthly foundation' too is the substance of the flesh; which the Psalmist had Ps. 139, earnestly contemplated in himself, when he said, My bones are not hid from Thee, which Thou madest in secret, and my substance in the lower parts of the earth. Now the moth springs Irorn the garment, and in its production de- stroys that very garment, whereupon it is produced. And the flesh is as a kind of garment to the soul, but this same garment has withal its moth, in that from itself there arises carnal temptation, whereby it is rent and torn. For our garment is as it were consumed by a kind of moth of its own, in that the corruptible flesh engendereth temptation, and by this is brought to destruction. Man is consumed as if by a moth, in that he has arising from himself that, whereby he is to be broken in pieces. As though it were in plain words, ' If those spirits cannot be of themselves unchangeable, which are kept down by no infirmity of the flesh, by what incon- ceivable temerity do men account themselves to hold on stedfastly in good, who, wherein they have their understand- ing elevating them on high, have the clog of carnal frailty acting as an impediment to them, so that through the evil of a corrupting tendency they contain a cause in themselves, whence they turn old from the interior newness.?
69. The holy Doctors may likewise be understood by Mai. 2, ' the Angels,' according as it is said by the Prophet, For the Priest's lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek ' Ange- ific law at his mouth, for he is the Angel^ of the Lord of hosts. With whatever degree of virtue these may shine, they can never be altogether without sin, so long as they are engaged in the journey of this life, in that their step is God's human Angels not free from folly. *2i)7 doubtless broii":ht into contact either with the mire of unlawful Book T V.
practice, or with the dust of the thought of the heart. Now '- — they ' dwell in houses of clay,' who rejoice in this ensnaring life of the flesh. Paul had been brought to contemn the inhabiting this house of clay, when he said. But our to//- Phil. 3, versntion is in heaieu. Let him say then, BeJiold, His" servants are not sted'ast, and in His Angels He hath found folly: how much more in them that dwell in houses of clay, nhose foundation is in the dust, which are consumed as by the moth? As if he had said in plain words, ^ If the path- way of the present life cannot be passed through without defilement by those, who proclaiming the things of eternity, gird themselves up to encounter those of time, what eWls do they undergo, who rejoice to be plunged in the delights of the fleshly habitation? * For His servants are not stedfast,' for when the mind strains toward things on high, it is dissi- pated by the conceits of its own flesh, so that oftentimes whilst the mind pants after the things of the interior, while it looks at heavenly objects alone, smitten by a momentary carnal delight, it lies low severed from itself, and he that felt joy that he had sunnounted the hindrances of his frailty, pro- strated by an unexpected wound, is only filled with woe. Pervcrseness then is found even in His Angels, so long as those very men, who proclaim His truth, the surprisals of a deceitful life do at times lie heavy on. So then if even those are smitten by tlie wickedness of this world, whom a holy ])urpose presents erect against the same, with what strokes are not they jnerced, whom nothing less than ' delight in * ipsa their fi-ailty brings to the ground before its darts.^ And th(^se arc well described to be ' consumed,' as it were, * witli a moth.' For a moth does mischief, and makes no sound. So the minds of the wicked, in that they neglect to take account of their own losses, lose their soundness, as it were, without knowing it. For they are losing innocency from the heart, truth liom the lips, contineney from the flesh, aud in the course of time, life Irom the sum of their age. But they see not one whit that they are unceasingly letting go these same, in that they aic busied with all their heart in temporal con- cerns. Thus they are * consumed as it were with a moth,' in that they sufler the canker of sin without sound, whilst llu^y 298 Bad men are ever loorhing their own ruin.
Job 4, remain ignorant what losses in life and innocency of heart — ^^-^— they are undergoing. Hence it is well added, Ver. 20. They shall be cut off/rom morning to evening.
xxxix 70. For the sinner is ' cut off from morning to even- ing,' in that from the beginning of his life to the end thereof he is ever getting wounded by the commission of sin. For the reprobate by increase in wickedness are at all times redoubling blows upon themselves, cut off by which, they may fall headlong into the pit. And it is well said of them Ps.,55, by the Psalmist, Bloody and deceit fal men shall not halve their days. For to ' halve our days' is to part off the time of our life misspent in pleasure, for the purpose of penitential mourning, and in parting off to recover the same to a good use. But the wicked never ' halve their days,' in that not even in the end of their time do they change their froward- ness of heart. Contrary whereunto Paul rightly exhorts, Eph. 5, saying, Bedeeming the time, because the days are evil. For we ' redeem the time,' when by tears we recover our past life, which by rioting we had lost. It goes on, And because none understandeth, they perish for ever, xl. 71. That is to say, * none' of those, who ' shall be cut off from morning unto evening.' ' None understandeth,' whether of those that perish, or of those who follow the lost ways of Is. 57,1. the perishing. Whence it is elsewhere written. The riyh- teous perisheth^andno man layeth it to heart: and merciful men are taken away, none considering. Thus, whereas the wicked are set upon temporal things alone, and are un- concerned to learn what blessings are in store for the Elect for everlasting, while they look to the affliction of the just, but never learn what is the recompense of that affliction, they put forth the foot of their conversation into the pit, for they willingly shut their eyes to the light of understanding. For being decoyed by foolish pleasures, whilst for objects, which they see, they entertain an affection, which belongs to time, being meanwhile strangers to themselves, they never see whereunto they are hurrying for all eternity. It is possible too that by the morning may be denoted the pros- perous fortune of this world, and by the evening the adverse fortune thereof. So then ' the wicked are cut oif from morning to evening,' in that by running riot through pros- Some, brought to under standimj, perish not. 29fi perity they are brou^^lit to ruin, and bcinj^ made impatient Pook by adversity they are lifted u]) to madness. Tliese would — ^- uever be cut off from morning to evening, by sin, if they either took prosperity for the salve or adversity for the knife to their sore.
72. But forasmuch as the assemblage of the human race is never so forsaken, that the whole is let to go to destruction, there be some, that look down upon the enjoyments' of the ])resent life, even when they are present, consider that they are transient, and in the love of the eternal world tread them underfoot. And while they set the step of judgment on this first stage, they mount with invigorated soul to a loftier height, so that they not only contemn all temporal things, for that they must be quickly parted with, but have no desire to attach themselves thereto, even if they might last for ever. And they withdraw their love from the things created in beauty, because they stretch forth by the steps of the heart toward the Father of all Heanty Himself. And there are some that love the good things of the present life, yet never in any wise attain unto them, who pant after temporal bless- ings with all their hearts' desire, who covet the glory of the world, yet never can make themselves master thereof. For these, so to speak, the heart draws them on to seek the world, the world drives them back to search out the heart. For it often chances that, being bruised by those very adversities which they suffer, they are brought back to reason, and returning back into themselves, they consider how little there is in that, which they were seeking after, and forthwith betake themselves to wee])ing for the foolishness of their desire, and conceive the stronger yearnings lor eternal things, in ])roportion to the folly in which they grieve that they once spent themselves for those of time, llcncc, the wicked having been described, it is well added, Ver. 21. lint Ihey that have been lejt shall be taken auay from am an (J them.
7.3. Whom else do we understand by * tlie left,' but all the xh. despised of this woild.'' whom whilst the present life chooses not for any use of honour, it ' leaves' as being the least and most worthless. But the Ix)rd is said to * take away lliose • Thore is authnrify for tho plural.
300 Christ finds the world's slave, as David the Amalekite's.
Job 4, that are left' of the world, in that He condescends to make — choice of the despised of this life, as Paul bears witness, 1 Cor. 1, saying. Not many wise men after thejlesh, not many mighty, 26. 27. ^^qi many nol)le are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty. Which is well represented in the Book of \^^^o Kings by the Egyptian servant fainting in the way, whom the Amalekite abandons taken sick upon the journey, but David finds, refreshes with food, and makes the guide of his route; he pursues the iVmalekite, finds him feasting, and utterly destroys him. For what does it mean that the Egyptian servant of the Amalekite turns faint upon the journey, but that the lover of this present world, covered with the blackness of his sins, is often abandoned in weak- ness and contempt by the same world, so that he is no longer able to run therewith, but being broken down by adversity, grows helpless. But David finds him, in that our Redeemer, Who is in a true sense ' strong of hand,' sometimes turns to the love of Himself those, whom He finds despised as to the glory of the world, in that He refreshes them with the knowledge of the Word. He chose him the guide of his way, in that He makes him even the preacher of Himself.