25. The parents of the heretics are foolish and ignoble. — Namely, their sons, who were the masters of errors. They are called sons, therefore, not begotten of their seed, but of imitation, who, by teaching perverse things, were foolish through ignorance; by living wickedly, were ignoble through their action. Who are joined to our Redeemer by no kinship of wisdom, no kinship of life. Concerning whom it is said by the voice of Solomon, in praise of Holy Church: 'Her husband is noble in the gates' (Prov. 31:23). These, therefore, because they have followed the perverse examples of the erring, are recorded to be the sons of the foolish and the ignoble. And rightly it is subjoined: 'And utterly not appearing in the land,' because, while they here desire to seem something, they surely become excluded from the land of the living. 26.
The same things can be said of the carnal as of heretics. — But what we have said under the figure of heretics stands in no way in the way, even if we understand it also of the perverse and carnal, though set within the right faith. For the holy Church of the elect does not reckon as her adversaries only those who, set outside her faith, dissent from her, but also those who, by living wickedly within, weigh down her life from inside. Let her therefore, afflicted by the distress of onrushing adversity, consider how in the time of her prosperity she was burdened by the depravity of the wicked and of those living within her. Let her consider how, at the demand of the deserts of certain men, she was not unjustly troubled amid the common life of all, and let her say: They that gnawed in the wilderness, squalid with calamity and misery.
As I have said in the first part of this work, by the power of contemplation the solitude of the mind is sometimes wont to be understood. But when in this place solitude is spoken of by way of reproach, what else is shown but a destitution of good? Whence also, under the figure of Judaea, Jeremiah bewails the soul of the sinner, saying: How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people (Lam. i, 1)? But when it is said through blessed Job concerning the wicked, They gnawed in the wilderness, it pleases us to consider also this which was said through the Psalmist: His enemies shall lick the earth (Ps. lxii, 9). — Some devote themselves to flattery, others to open greed. — For there are two kinds of men that serve their own ambition:
one, namely, which always uses the blandishments of the tongue toward avarice; the other, which by open force strives at plunder. For we gnaw when we wear away something outward with strong effort. And a thing is licked when that which cannot easily be eaten is tasted by the pressed softness of the tongue. All therefore who, even under the appearance of faith, live wickedly, who covet the goods of others, but can by no means seize what they covet, and yet by flattering words and, as it were, by the softness of sweetness try to draw away the things coveted — what else do they do but lick the earth? For the earthly things which they cannot carry off by force, they contrive to obtain by the softness of the tongue.
But those who in this world are propped up by some power, and coveting the goods of others, disdain to flatter out of fraud, because they can even with unjust strength fulfill what they wish — these do not lick what they covet, but gnaw it, since with the might of their strength, as it were with the effort of teeth, they demolish the life of their neighbours. Let the holy Church therefore behold the true riches of the eternal fatherland; let her behold the throng of the citizens above; let her behold in her elect the cultivation of the mind and the goods of innumerable virtues, and from these let her recall the eye of the mind to the life of the wicked, destitute of every good; and by comparison with those let her see how empty this life is of all virtues, because it has forsaken the things above and coveted the lowest. Let her see how...
...in what way it very often even violently seizes that which it covets, if perchance it prevails; let her behold that she has long tolerated such men, as it were placed within herself, and that from their faults she has come even to the perils and losses of the good, and let her say: They that gnawed in the wilderness. As though she openly complained, saying: They would not gnaw at others' goods even by violently seizing them, unless they themselves first remained solitary and empty within, void of the cultivation of virtues. And well does she set forth their quality, saying: Squalid with calamity and misery. For sick flesh, if it is neglectfully left uncared for, is more grievously burdened in its infirmity by the squalor drawn over it:
and while to the calamity of sickness is added the misery of neglect, a heavier trouble is endured through the squalor that has arisen. — By serving the necessities of nature more than is right, we increase its infirmities. — Human nature, therefore, though well created, but fallen into infirmity by the fault of its own will, fell into calamity, because, pressed by countless necessities, it found nothing in this life but that whereby it might be afflicted. But when we serve these same necessities of our nature more than is expedient, and neglect the care of the mind, from the misery of neglect we add to our infirmity the squalor of guilt.
For natural necessities are wont to have this as something very dangerous, that often in them there is very little to discern what is done concerning them through zeal for usefulness and what through the vice of pleasure. For frequently, when an occasion of seduction has been found, while we render what is due to necessity, we serve the vice of pleasure, and under the veil of infirmity our excuse cloaks itself before the eyes of discernment, and conceals itself, as it were, under the patronage of a usefulness to be fulfilled. But to loosen the infirmity of our nature through negligence is nothing else than to add misery to calamity, and to multiply the squalor of vices out of that same misery.
Whence holy men, in everything they do, discern with the most careful attention, lest the infirmity of their nature demand of them more than is owed, lest under the cover of necessity the vice of pleasure grow up in them. For they endure one thing from infirmity, another from the suggestion of temptation; and, set as it were like most upright arbiters between necessity and pleasure, they relieve the former by consoling it, and rein in the latter by pressing it down. Whence it comes to pass that, although they tolerate the calamity of their infirmity, yet through negligence they do not descend to the squalor of misery. For this very thing — to be in calamity — is to endure the necessities of nature from the infirmity of flesh still corruptible.
Which necessities he doubtless desired to escape who said: Deliver me from my necessities (Ps. xxiv, 17). For he knew that very often the faults of pleasures burst forth from the occasion of necessities; and lest he should of his own accord admit anything unlawful, he strove to have that very thing plucked up which unwillingly he bore from the root. — The carnal, while they seem to obey necessity, serve pleasure. Would that for the wicked their own death alone sufficed. — But on the contrary, the wicked rejoice in these necessities of their corruption, because forsooth they twist them back to the use of pleasures. For when they serve nature by refreshing their bodies with food, through the delight of gluttony they are distended in the gluttonous excess of pleasure.
When they seek garments to cover their limbs, they demand not only what may cover, but even what may exalt; and against the torpor of cold, not only what may fortify by warmth, but even what may delight by softness; not only what may soothe the touch by softness, but even what may seduce the eyes by colour. To turn, therefore, the cause of necessity into the use of pleasure — what else is it than to join the squalor of misery to one's calamity? Pressed therefore in the time of adversity, let the Church remember those by whose desert she endures such things, and let her say: They that gnawed in the wilderness, squalid with calamity and misery. Squalid with calamity, that is to say, they would not be, if they did not add the misery of pleasures to their inborn necessities.
Which necessities, forsooth, we merited by the fault of our first parent. But these who join misery to their calamity burst forth from the torment of punishment to the increase of guilt. But would that such men, when they disdain to be changed for the better, so acted their perverse deeds that they did not also proffer them to others. Would that their own death alone sufficed them, and that they did not also, by venomous persuasions, slay the life of others estranged. For they envy others being what they themselves are not, they grieve that others attain what they lose. For if perchance they behold any goods arising in the deeds of others, they straightway pluck them out with the hand of pestilent reproach. Whence it also follows: And they ate herbs and the bark of trees. — They try to pervert beginners and those advancing in good.
— For what is designated by herbs but the tender life, near to the earth, of those who begin well, and what by the bark of trees but the outward works of those who now seek lofty things? For the wicked, when they behold men beginning aright, contradict them either by mockery or as if by counsel. But when they judge that some are now advancing toward the heights, because they are unable to dissipate their progress utterly, they divert them by certain means from their works. To eat their herbs and the bark of trees, therefore, is to dissipate by pestilent persuasions, as though by certain teeth of their malice, either the endeavours of those who begin well, or the works of certain men now tending, after the manner of trees, toward the things above.
The reprobate eat herbs when by mockery they consume the beginnings of the weak. They also eat the bark of trees when, by the hand of perverse counsel, they withdraw from the life of those growing aright the covering of good works. But these, in certain acts, they strip like trees; those, however, like herbs, because, despising them, they drag them down, and, as it were, eat what they trample. The strength of some, now rising on high, they partly demolish; the tenderness of others, still set in the depths, they utterly crush. Let her therefore say: They ate herbs and the bark of trees, because by perverse insinuations they dissipated in some their outward works, but in some their hearts green with hope. — Some are clothed only with the appearance of virtue, as with bark.
— Or certainly, to eat herbs is to imitate certain light and tender things from the ancient fathers. But to eat the bark of trees is to perform their works only on the surface, but not to hold the right intention in those same works. For there are some who, while they cannot attain the glory of the present world by the actions of that same world, seek the appearance of holiness, take up the garb of reverence, long to seem imitators of the ancient fathers, and perform indeed certain small and light things, but disdain to imitate their strong deeds, and those which proceed from the root of charity alone. These, forsooth, eat herbs, because they neglect great things, and are satisfied with cheap ones.
Yet for the most part they even exercise certain, as it were, more robust works, but do not hold the right intention in those same works. For these, to eat the bark of trees is to assume the outward acts of the elect, and not to have a good intention in good acts. For while for the sake of human praise they seek out right works, but neglect to imitate the reason of those who work rightly, they are filled only with the bark of trees. For with hidden desire they seek the glory or the abundance of the present life. Whence also it is rightly added: And the root of junipers was their food. — A perverse action which delights in the fault, pricks in the punishment.
— For those within, though set in the faith, while for the most part they serve the thoughts of avarice, eat, as it were, that from which at the last the harsh things of torment are brought forth for their life. Who, while they do not covet the fruit of the divine word, but serve the ambition of temporal things, are by no means satisfied with the bread of wheat, but with the root of the juniper. For these very things, arising from the depths and the lowest, occupy them, so that afterward, like the juniper, they may prick them out of hardness of retributions, as out of the harshness of leaves. For those despising God here, feel very little how great is the evil which they do. For still the juniper's...
...root they eat, but they do not attend how harsh are the branches of this root, because forsooth a perverse action, as though from the root, delights in the fault, but afterward, as though from the branches, pricks in the punishment. Where also it is well added: Who, snatching these things from the valleys, when they had found each one, ran to them with a shout. — In the valley of the present life, with a great shout there is contention for a cheap pittance. — In comparison, forsooth, with the things above, all the present life is a valley.
But these, because they know not how to contemplate the loftiness of the mountains, that is, the strong deeds of the saints, dwell always in low delight, as it were in valleys; and while they find any gain or small profit, they run with a shout, because they contrive by wrangling to snatch even this away. For to run with a shout when single things have been found in the valley is, when occasions of lawsuits have arisen, to contend even over a small pittance. But for the most part, him whom a good action displays as holy, an occasion of earthly gain, having arisen, puts to the test. For you may see not a few now doing lofty things, now following the examples of the preceding fathers in the work of abstinence, now in that of doctrine;
but when they suddenly find the gain of the present life, as though the fruit of the valley, they run to it with a shout, because, the tranquillity of the holiness spread over them being broken, they leap forth toward it. — Many seek the reward of virtue, not virtue. — There can also be understood by herbs and the bark of trees not only, as has been said before, good works, but the consolations and prosperities in this life. For often almighty God enriches His elect with inward gifts, and also raises them up with outward honours. And when, by preferring them to the rest, He renders them honourable, He shows them more widely worthy of imitation; and sometimes the wicked indeed despise their life, but covet to attain their felicity in this world.
Because therefore they here seek the blandishments of transitory consolation, they eat herbs; because in their thoughts they meditate on the outward glory of the elect, they eat the bark of trees. And since in all these things they serve avarice alone with sure intention, they are filled with the root of the juniper. Which all they snatch from the valleys, because out of love of this lowest and corruptible life they burn with immense desires. And when they find single things, they run to them with shouts, because forsooth they strive to seize the places and governments of the holy fathers, whose merits they do not seek to attain; and when they cannot obtain these tranquilly, they even contrive the rupture of the peace of concord. — What the just despise, these most of all covet.
— Who, because they are far removed from the action of the preceding fathers, it is rightly added: They dwelt in the deserts of torrents, and in the caves of the earth, or upon the gravel. For in a good sense we rightly take torrents to be the holy preachers, who, while in the present life they flow into us with divine words, are gathered like a multitude of waters as in winter. Who also withdraw themselves at the coming of the summer heat, because when the light of the eternal fatherland has shone forth, they will cease to preach. The deserts of these torrents are the goods of temporal life. For they forsake these, and turn themselves to acquiring the heavenly gains. But all these that torrent had left behind, who said: For whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but as dung (Phil.
iii, 8). But because the minds of the wicked long to attain in this life those things which the just, despising, forsake, they are said to dwell in the deserts of torrents. For those things which are unworthy of the saints, these covet to receive as something great. But the caves of the earth are perverse thoughts, in which they hide themselves from human eyes. For the wicked, as they shrink from being seen by men, and while they feign to be other than they are, conceal themselves in the lurking-places of their conscience, as in the caves of the earth. Who would do none of these things, unless they despaired of the eternal and solid life, unless they fixed their mind on this uncertainty of temporality. Whence it is well subjoined: Or upon the gravel. — Clinging to fleeting things, they are rolled down to the depths.
— For gravel is the present life, which is ceaselessly borne toward its end by the very failing of its mutability, as by the impulse of a river. To dwell upon the gravel, therefore, and to cling to the flux of the present life, is to place one's intention there where one cannot firmly solidify one's step by standing fast. There is another thing in gravel which ought by no means to be passed over in silence, because when a foot is set upon its surface, it slips by that very rollingness, and is rolled down to the depths. To which thing, forsooth, the life of the wicked in no way differs, because when for the love of the world they endeavour to do certain lawful and honest things, they set a foot, as it were, level upon the surface;
but suddenly the foot slips to the depths, because their action, while it always covets more, descends even to iniquitous and unlawful things. When therefore the holy Church tolerates the adversities of this time, let her recur through memory to the life of the carnal, whom she has borne as adversaries to herself even in prosperity, and let her recognize by whose merits she suffers these things, saying: They dwelt in the deserts of torrents, and in the caves of the earth, or upon the gravel. For because they are destitute of the fathers' teaching, they are said to dwell in the deserts of torrents; because they cover themselves in hidden thoughts, in the caves of the earth; and because they seek to fix their intention on the mutability of the present world, they are said to dwell upon the gravel.
But would that such men, because they are unwilling to fight against the sins that tempt them, would at least by weeping wipe away the things committed! Would that they would at least acknowledge the evils they have perpetrated, and apply to the barren fig-tree the basket of dung, that is, the richness of lamentation to the unfruitful mind! — The evil which we do sets a barrier before the eye of the mind. — But the human mind has this for the most part as its own property, that as soon as it slips into a fault, it is separated yet farther from the knowledge of itself. For this very evil which it does interposes itself as a barrier to the mind before the eye of reason. Whence it comes to pass that the soul, first beset by voluntary darkness, afterward no longer recognizes even the good which it might seek. For the more it clings to evils, the less it understands the goods which it loses.
For the light of truth, because it subtly examines the faults of the reprobate, in proportion as, once possessed, it is neglected, so much the more, judging strictly, permits that what is lost be not even sought back; and when it is repelled from the act, it flees from the sense, so that of him whose face, as it were, is despised in the deed, the very back is now no longer seen through recollection. Hence therefore it is that the reprobate rejoice, subjected to base crimes, of whom it is said through Solomon: Who rejoice when they have done evil, and exult in the most wicked things (Prov. ii, 14). Hence it is that they perform, dancing, the causes of tears; hence it is that, laughing, they carry out the business of their own death. Whence here also it is aptly subjoined: