the sun is set, he returns to the camp, who after tears of penance, when the flame of unlawful thought is quenched, is restored to assume the claims of the faithful, that he should not any longer account himself far removed from others, who re- joices that he is clean by the departure of the inward burning. But herein be it known that it is for this reason that we are sometimes driven to straits by the impulse of un- lawful thought, because we are ready to employ ourselves in certain courses of earthly conduct, though not unlawful. And when even in the very least things we come in contact with earthly conduct in desire, the might of our old enemy gaining strength against us, our mind is defiled by no little urgency of temptation. And hence the Priest of the Law is Lev. i, enjoined to consume with fire the limbs of the victim cut * into pieces, the head, and the parts about the liver; but the inwards and the legs he is to wash with water first. For we 556 Parts of the very sacrifice need washing.
Job 10, offer our own selves a sacrifice to God, when we dedicate our lives to the service of God, and we set the members of the sacrmce cut mto pieces upon the lire, when we orier up the deeds of our lives dividing them in the virtues. The head and the parts contained about the liver we burn, when in our faculty of sense, whereby all the body is governed, and in our hidden desires we are kindled with the flame of divine love. And yet it is bidden, that the feet and the inwards of the victim be washed with water. For with the feet the earth is touched, and in the inw^ards dung is carried, in that it very often happens that already in the desire of oar hearts we burn for eternity, already with an entire feeling of devo- tion WQ pant in longing desire for the mortification of our- selv^es; but w hereas by reason of our frailty there is still a mixture of earth in what we do, even some of the things for- bidden which we have already subdued, we are subject to in thought, and while unclean temptation defiles our thoughts, what else is this than that ' the inwards' of the victim carry dung } But that they may be fit to be burnt, let them be washed, in that it is necessary that tears of fear wash out the impure thoughts of the heart, for° love from on high to con- sume them in acceptance of the sacrifice, and whatever the mind is subject to, proceeding either from untried conflict, or from the remembrance of former practice, let it be washed, that it may burn with so much the sweeter odour in the sight of its Beholder, in proportion as when it begins to draw near to Him, it sets upon the altar of its prayer along with itself nought earthly, nought impure. Therefore let the holy man regard the wretchedness of the human mind, how often it defiles itself with unhallowed thoughts, and after the Judge's remission of the guilt of our doings, even whilst he bewails his own case, let him shew to us ours, for ourselves to bewail, saying, If I have sinned, and thou sparedst me at the hour^ wherefore dost thou not let me he clean from mine iniquity 9 As if he said in plain words; ' If Thy forgiveness has taken away my sin, why does it not sweep it from my memory also V Oftentimes the mind is so shaken from its centre at the recollection of sin, that it is prompted to the commission ° Alluding to the Fire from heaven also a token and method of accepting that consumed the sacrifice, which was it.
The ivicked suffer finally, and even the Righteous, here. 557 thereof far worse than it had been before subjected to it, Book and when entangled it is filled with fears, and being driven ^^' with different impulses, throws itself into disorder. It dreads lest it should be overcome by temptations, and in resisting, it shudders at this very fact, that it is harassed with the long toils of conflict. Hence it is fitly sub- joined, Ver. 15. If I be wicked, woe un to m e; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head: I amfidl of affliction and misery, 85. Yea, the wicked man has ^ woe,' and the righteous lvi> man ' affliction,' in that both everlasting damnation follows the lost sinner, and each one of the Elect is purified by the pains of temporary aflEliction. The wicked man lifts up his head, yet when so lifted up he cannot escape the woe that pursues him. The righteous man, faring ill with the toils of his conflict, is not suffered to lift up his head, but while hard pressed, he is freed from everlasting affliction. The one sets himself up in pleasure, but is plunging himself into the pu- nishment that succeeds. The others sinks himself to the earth in sorrow, yet hides himselffrom the weight of eternal visitation. Thus let the holy man consider how man either in striving against evil, is afilicted with present trouble, or giving up the contest, he is delivered over to eternal anguish, and let him say, If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if 1 be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head: lam full of affliction and misery, as if he lamented openly, saying, ' Either bowed down under the desires of the flesh, I am exposed to eternal punishment, or if I fight against unlawful impulses, I am tormented with present woe. seeing that 1 am not quit of the toils of the fight.' But the Providence of the Most High does for this reason suffer us who serve Him with all the bent of the mind, to be buffeted by the assaults of our flesh, lest our mind, by presuming on its own security, dare to lift itself up in pride, that whereas, when a shock comes it is filled with fears, it may set the foot of hope the stronger, in the aid of its Maker alone. Hence it is further added fitly, Ver. 16. And by reason of pride. Thou wilt take me like a lioness.
86. When a lioness hunts for food for her whelps, she Ivii.
558 Man's soul taken like a lioness caged in a pit Job 10, rushes with ravening jaws into the pitfall. For as the ^, — '- — account eoes from certain countries, they make a pit in her path, and deposit a sheep in it, that the lioness in her raven- ing appetite may be provoked to precipitate herself into it, and they make it both narrow and deep at the same time, that she may have room to tumble into it in circling round it, but never get out by taking a leap. There is another pit too dug, which is to be close to the former, but which is joined to the one in which the sheep is, by the opening of the part at the bottom. And in this is put a cage, that the lioness tumbling in, forasmuch as she is pressed by terrors from above, when she goes about as it were to hide herself in the more secret part of the pit, may of her own will go into the cage; her sav^age temper being now no longer an object of fear, seeing that she is lifted up enclosed in the cage. For the beast that threw itself of its own accord into the pit is brought back to the regions above hedged round with bars. Thus, thus is it that the mind of man is taken, which being created in the liberty of free will, whilst it craved to feed the desires of the flesh, was like a lioness seeking food for her cubs, and fell into the pit of self-deception, in that at the suggestion of the enemy it stretched forth the hand to take the forbidden food, but it quickly found a cage in the pit, in that coming by its own act to death, it exposed itself at once to the prison house of its own corruption, and is brought back to the free air by grace intervening. But whereas it tries to do many things, and has no power, it is bound by the hindrances of that same corruption, as though by the bars of a cage. It is now free of that pit of damnation into which it had fallen, in that receiving help from the hand of Kedemption, in being brought back to pardon, it has got above the punish- ment of the death to follow. But yet, being shut in close, it feels the cage, in that it is encircled by the bands of heavenly discipline, that it may not roam through the desires of the flesh. And she that of her own will went down into the pit, returns to the free air in confinement, in that she both fell into sin by the liberty of the will, and yet the grace of the Creator holds her in by constraint, and against her will, from following her own motions. And so after the pit she has the cage to bear, in that being rescued from eternal punishment, A fall may bring us under the bars of humility. 559 she is withheld from the motions of a froward liberty, under Book the controlling hand of the heavenly Artificer. Therefore he — ^-^ says alight. And by reason of pride^ Thou wilt take me like a lioness; in that both when free, man brought death upon himself through food, and on being brought back to pardon, he lives shut up under discipline for his greater good. Therefore like a lioness he was taken by reason of pride, in that the discipline, that belongs to his corrupt condition, now keeps him down from the very same cause, that not fearing the transgression of the commandment he boldly leapt into the pit.
87. But if for a short space we turn aside the eye of our mind from the sin of our first parent, we find that we ourselves are every day taken like the lioness, by the evil habit of pride. For it often happens that by the virtues that have been vouchsafed him, man is lifted up into the boldness of self- presumption, but by a wonderful ordering of Providence, some object is set before his eyes for him to fall therein. And whilst he seeks something in sin, what else is this but that he longs for the prey in the pit? With open mouth he falls by his own act, but has no power to rise by his own strength. And whereas he sees that of himself he is nothing, assuredly he learns Whose aid he must seek. Yet the heavenly Compassion draws him, thus taken out of the pit, as it were, in that as soon as his weakness is known. It restores hira to pardon. And so like a lioness, by reason of pride that man hastes back to the upper regions within the cage^, who when he is Hfted up in the score of virtuous attainments, after he has fallen into evil desires, is bound fast in humility. For whereas he had in the first case brought himself to destruction by his presuming on self, it is brought to pass by wonderful pitifulness, that he now lives walled in by the knowledge of his own weakness. And because the holy man sees that this often happens to his fellow creatures, he adopts in his own person the cry of peril that belongs to us, that when we read of his lamentations, we may be instructed what the things are in ourselves that we ought to lament. Now when pride uplifts the mind, the 660 God'^s returning to man gives a wholesome pain.
Job 10, piercing sense of love for the Highest departs from us, but ' — when s^race from above descends upon us, immediately it prompts us to longings tor itselt m tears. And hence it is fitly subjoined, Aiid retiirniiig, Thou dost torture me marvellously. Iviii. gg. When we are forsaken by our Creator, we do not at all feel even the very ills of our abandonment. For in pro- portion as our Creator goes far off from us, our mind becomes more hardened in insensibility, loves nothing that is of God, entertains no longing for things above, and because it has no warmth of interior love, it lies frozen towards the earth, and in a pitiable way it becomes every day the more self-secure, in proportion as it becomes worse; and whereas it no longer remembers whence it has fallen, and no longer dreads the punishments to come, it knows nothing how deeply it is to be bewailed. But if it be touched by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, at once it wakes up to the thought of its ruin, rouses itself in the pursuit after heavenly things, glows with the hot emotions of love towards the Highest, takes thought of the ills which every way beset it round about, and she weeps while making progress, who before was going to ruin in high glee. Therefore it is well said to the Creator, And returning Thou dost torture me marvellously. For by the same act whereby Almighty God in visiting our soul lifts it to the love of Himself, He makes it the more to sorrow in tears. As if it were in plain words, ' In going from me Thou dost not influence me, because Thou renderest me insensible, but when Thou returnest. Thou dost torture me, because whilst Thou dost cause Thyself to enter into me. Thou shewest to me mine own self, and how deeply I am to be pitied.' And hence he never says tliat he is tortured judicially, but ' marvellously,' since while the mind is trans- ported on high in weeping, with a feeling of joy it marvels at the pains of its piercing sorrow, and it is its joy to be so touched, because it sees that by its anguish it is lifted up on high. But often when heavenly Pity sees us slacken in the exercising ourselves in holy desires. It presents to our view the example of those that cleave to Itself, that the mind whicli is unbraced by indolence, in proportion as it Tlie Elect are God's icitnesses against all sin. 06 1 observes in the case of others the advancement of minds Book well awake, may take shame for the dulness of sloth in itself. '— Hence it is rightly added, Ver. 17. Thou renewest Tliy itHnesses against me, and miiltipUest Thy wrath: and pains war in me.
89. For ' God's witnesses' are they, who bear witness by ^ix. the practice of holy works, what are the rewards of Tnith that shall overtake the Elect. Hence too those, whom we see to have suffered for the sake of the Truth, we style in the Greek tongue, ' Martyrs/ i. e. witnesses. And the Lord says by John in the Angel's voice. Even in those days, Eev. 2, wherein Antipas was my faith/id witness, who icas slain ^^' among you. Now the Lord ' renews His witnesses against us' when He multiplies the lives of the Elect to confront our wickedness, for the purpose of convicting and of instructing lis. And so His * witnesses are renewed against us,' in that all things that they do are opposed to the ends and aims of our wickedness. Hence too the word of Truth is called ^ an adversary,' where it is said by the voice of the Mediator in the Gospel, Agree with thine adversary qidckly, whiles thou ^I^**- ^> art in the way with him. And the sons of perdition in their persecutions say concerning that same Redeemer, ^?2c/ i7(? is^'^^^-'^y clean contrary to our doings; and soon afterwards. For His ih.' 15. life is not like other men's. Thus the Lord ' renews His witnesses against us,' in that the good things which we neg- lect to do ourselves, He shews us to be done by others to our upbmiding, that we who are not inflamed by precepts, may at least be stirred up by examples, and that in longing after righteousness, our mind may account nothing to be difficult to itself, that it sees to be done perfectly by others; and it is very commonly brought to pass, that while we behold the good actions of another man's life, we are more anxiously afraid of the deficiencies of our own, and it is made appear the plainer by what a weight of judgment we are afterwards assailed, in proportion as we are now widely at variance with the ways of the good.
90. Hence after the renewal of the witnesses has been mentioned it is thereupon fitly added, And muliipliest Thy wrath upon me. God's wrath is said to be ' multiplied upon 562 JVhat gladdens us in others makes us fear for ourselves.
Job 10, us/ in proportion as it is shewn to be manifold, since by the „ very lives and labours of the good we are instructed, if, whilst we have time, we will not amend our ways now, what a terrible visitation shall be dealt us hereafter. For w^e see the Elect of God at one and the same time leading godly lives and undergoing numberless sore hardships. And there- fore we collect from hence with what rigour the strict Judge will There smite those whom He condemns, if he so torments 1 Peter here below^ those whom He loves; as Peter witnesses, who ' ' says. For the time is come tJtat judgment must begin at the house of God, and if it first begin at us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the Gospel of God? Therefore Almighty God, when He ' renews His witnesses' against us, ' multiplies His wrath,' in that in proportion as He sets before our eyes the life of the good, He shews with what severity He will smite obduracy in the commission of sin at the Judgment. Now whereas He multiplies His gifts to those alone that follow Him, He shews that He has already forsaken those that go on in sloth. Thus when we see good things in others, it is very necessary to mix exultation with the dread that we feel, and dread with our exultation, that both charity may rejoice for the proficiencies of other men, and conscience tremble for its own frailties. But when we are gladdened with the proficiency of a brother, when we calculate the severity of the interior Judge against us for our mere sloth- fulness by itself, what is there left but that the mind turn back to search into itself, and that whatever it meets with in itself, that is blameworthy, whatever that is bad, it should chastise.^ Hence it is fitly subjoined, Pains fight in me. For upon considering the w'itnesses of God, ' pains fight in us,' in that whilst w^e behold their deeds, that command our admiration, our own life, which by comparison with theirs is displeasing in our eyes, we visit with serious s"elf-chastening, that whatever pollution our deeds may have caused in us, our tears may wash clean, and if the guilt of taking pleasure therein still somewhat defiles us, the chastening of a sorrow- ful heart may cleanse away the stain. Therefore because blessed Job has his eye fixed on the life of the fathers of old time, he ascertains more exactly what he ought to bewail in JoU's ivis/i before cxjdained. It is well to look to the end. 5(>.3 himself. And by the preceptorship of extraordinary sorro-s^', Book whilst he bewails his own case, he instructs us to lamentation, — - — that in proportion as we perceive excellencies in other men, we may anxiously fear for our own offences in the sight of the strict Judge. It goes on, Ver. 18. Wherefore then hast Thou brought me forth out of Ix. the womb. Oh that I had been consumed, and no eye had seen me, 91. Which same sentiment he had already uttered in his first speech, saying, JVJiy died I not from the icomb? and^°^^' whilst he subjoins that which he adds here, I should have been as though I had not been, I should have been carried from the womb to the grave; he adds in other words, but no other sense, saying. Or as a hidden untimely birth J had not been, as infants which never saw light. But forasmuch ^ ^^^' as we have made out these particulars veiy much at length above, to avoid wearying the reader we forbear to unfold points already explained. It goes on, Ver. 20. Will not the small number of my days be jinished, in a short time'?
92. He shews himself to live with good heed and circum- Ixi. spection, who, in considering the shortness of the present life does not look to the furtherance but to the ending of it, so as to gather from the end, that all is nought that delights while it is passing. For hence it is said by Solomon, But ^yEccles. a man live many years and rejoice in them all, yet let him ' remember the time of darkness, and the days that shall be many; and when they come, the past shall be convinced of vanity. Hence again it is written, Whatsoever thou takest Ecclus. in hand, remember thine end, and thou shall never do amiss. ' Therefore when sin tempts the mind, it is requisite that the soul should regard the shortness of its gratification, lest iniquity hurry it on to a living death, when it is plain that a mortal life is quickly speeding to an end. But often the eye of our contemplation is bewildered, while our pain is heightened by thickening scourges. It is good to bewail the exile of the present life, yet for mere anguish alone the mind cannot take account of the ills of its blind state. Hence he directly adds.
And let me go, that I may bewail my sorrow a little.
93. For as moderate distress gives vent to tears, so excessive Ixii.
564 Man cannot ahcays duly bewail sin that he feels.
Job 10, sorrow checks them, since that erief itself is as it were made TT void of grief, which by swallowing up the mind of the person afflicted, takes away the sense of grief. Therefore the holy man shrinks from being stricken more than he is equal to bear, saying, A?7d let me (/o, that I may bewail my sorrow a little. As if it were in plain words, ' Qualify the strokes of Thy scourging, that, my pains being made moderate, in weeping I may have power to estimate the miseries I endure.' Which same nevertheless may likewise be understood in another sense. For oftentimes the sinner is so bound by the chains of his wickedness, that he bears indeed the burthen of his sins, and knows not that he is bearing it. Often if he does know with what an amount of guilt he is burthened, he strives to break loose and cannot, so as to hunt it down in himself with free spirit and full conversion. Thus he is unable to ' bewail his sorrow,' for at once he sees the guilt of his sinful state, and by reason of the weight of earthly business, is not at liberty to bewail it. He is unable to ' bewail his sorrow,' who strives indeed to resist evil habits, yet is weighed down by the still increasing desires of the flesh. The presence of this sorrow had inflicted anguish Ps.'38, upon the spirit of the Prophet, when he said, 3Iy sorrow is ^'^'^^' eontinually before me; for I will declare my iniquity, I will he sorry for my sin; but the bands of his sin being loosed, he knew that he was ' let go,' who gave vent to his exultation, Ps. 116, saying. Thou hast loosed my bonds, I will offer to Thee the ^^' ^^* sacrifice of thanksgiving.
94. Therefore God then ' lets us go' to bewail our sorrow, when He both shews us the evil things that we have done, and helps us to bewail the same, when we know them; He sets our transgressions before our eyes, and with the pitying hand of grace unlooses the bands of the heart, that our soul may lift itself up to liberty for the work of repentance, and loosed from the fetters of the flesh, may with free spirit stretch out towards its Maker the footsteps of love. For it very commonly happens that we the same persons blame our course of life, and yet readily do the very thing that we justly condemn in ourselves. The spirit lifts us up to righteousness, the flesli holds us back to habit; the soul struggles against self-love, but quickly overcome witli delight Hell, a * land^ for abiding, a ' lake for droicning. 565 is made captive. Thus it is well said, Let me go that I may Book bewail my sorrow a little. For except we be ' let go' in — ^-^ mercy from the guilt of sin, with which we are tied and bound, we cannot lament that which we grieve for in ourselves being set against ourselves.
But the woe of our guiltiness is then really bewailed, when that dark retribution of the place below is fore-reckoned with lively apprehension. Hence it is fitly added, Ver. 21. Before I go whence I shall not return, even to a land of darkness, and covered with the shadow of death.
95. For what is denoted by ' the land of darkness' saving Ixiii. the dreary caverns of Tartarus, which are covered by the shadow of eternal death, in that it keeps aU the damned for evermore severed from the light of life. Neither is the place below improperly called a land. For all they that have been made captive by it, are held fast and firm. As it is written; One generation passeth away, and another gene- Eccl. 1, ration conieth, but the earth abideth for ever. Thus the dungeons of hell are rightly designated ' a land of darkness,' for all, whom they receive doomed to punishment, they tor- ment with no transient infliction or phantasm of the imagin- ation, but keep in the substantial vengeance of everlasting damnation. Y^et they are sometimes denoted by the title of ' a lake,' as the Prophet bears witness, when he says. They Ezek. Iiave borne their shame with them that go down into the 25. lake. Thus hell is both called ' a land,' because it holds stedfastly all that it takes in, and ' a lake,' because it swallows up those whom it has once received, ever tossing and quaking in weltering floods of torment; but the holy man, whether in his own voice or in the voice of mankind, beseeches that he