Cornelius a Lapide
Table of Contents
Synopsis of the Chapter
The glory of God and of kings: the heart of the king is inscrutable: his throne is established by justice: do not exalt yourself before the king: do not reveal secrets in a quarrel: golden apples are timely words: a golden earring is one who reproves the wise: what cold is in harvest, that a faithful messenger is to his lord: a cloud without rain is one who makes promises but does not fulfill them: a soft tongue breaks hardness: eat honey moderately: false testimony is a javelin against one's neighbor: a rotten tooth is the unfaithful: vinegar on soda is singing to a sorrowful heart: what a moth is to a garment, that is sadness to the heart: feed and give drink to your enemy: a sad face puts detractors to flight: what cold water is to the thirsty, that is good news to the lover: he who searches majesty will be overwhelmed by glory: a city without walls is one who cannot restrain his tongue.
Vulgate Text: Proverbs 25:1-28
1. These also are parables of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah king of Judah transcribed. 2. It is the glory of God to conceal a word, and the glory of kings to search out a matter. 3. The heaven above, and the earth beneath, and the heart of kings is unsearchable. 4. Take away the rust from silver, and there shall come forth a most pure vessel. 5. Take away wickedness from the face of the king, and his throne shall be established in justice. 6. Do not appear glorious before the king, and stand not in the place of great men. 7. For it is better that it be said to you: "Come up hither," than that you be humbled before the prince. 8. What your eyes have seen, do not bring forth hastily in a quarrel: lest afterwards you cannot make amends, when you have dishonored your friend. 9. Treat your cause with your friend, and reveal not the secret to a stranger. 10. Lest he insult you when he hears it, and never cease to upbraid you. Grace and friendship set free: preserve them for yourself, lest you become liable to reproach. 11. Golden apples in beds of silver, he who speaks a word in its proper time. 12. A golden earring, and a shining pearl — he who reproves a wise man and an obedient ear. 13. As the cold of snow in the day of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to him who sent him, for he refreshes his soul. 14. Clouds and wind and rain that does not follow — a man who boasts and does not fulfill his promises. 15. By patience a prince shall be appeased, and a soft tongue shall break hardness. 16. You have found honey; eat what is sufficient for you, lest being filled you vomit it up. 17. Withdraw your foot from your neighbor's house, lest being surfeited he hate you. 18. A javelin and a sword and a sharp arrow — the man who bears false testimony against his neighbor. 19. A rotten tooth and a weary foot — he who trusts in the unfaithful in the day of distress: 20. and he loses his cloak in the day of cold. Vinegar on soda — he who sings songs to a wretched heart. As the moth to the garment, and the worm to the wood, so the sadness of a man injures the heart. 21. If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. 22. For you will heap coals of fire upon his head, and the Lord will reward you. 23. The north wind drives away rain, and a sad countenance drives away a backbiting tongue. 24. It is better to sit in a corner of the housetop than with a quarrelsome woman in a shared house. 25. Cold water to a thirsty soul, and good news from a distant land. 26. A fountain troubled with the foot, and a corrupted spring — a just man falling before the wicked. 27. As it is not good for him who eats too much honey, so he who searches into majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory. 28. As a city that lies open and without walls, so is a man who cannot restrain his spirit in speaking.
1. THESE ALSO ARE PARABLES OF SOLOMON, WHICH THE MEN OF HEZEKIAH KING OF JUDAH TRANSCRIBED.
The Syriac: "These also are the profound proverbs of Solomon, which the friends of Hezekiah king of Judah wrote." The Arabic: "The teachings of Solomon son of David, whose interpretation is admirable, which the friends of Hezekiah asked to be written." For "transtulerunt" the Hebrew is העתיקו hetiku, which can first be translated as "they made ancient," that is, they attested them to be endowed with antiquity, not new but ancient and genuinely Solomon's. Whence Rabbi Solomon translates: "they confirmed." Second: "they augmented, multiplied, enriched." Third: "they strengthened," that is, they gave them the strength of authority. Lyranus translates: "they fortified, by placing them," he says, "in an authoritative book." Fourth, the Septuagint and Syriac translate: "they transcribed." Fifth, our Vulgate: "they transferred." Moreover, Rabbi Levi says: "These sayings are placed separately from the others because they were selected from the pronouncements and declarations of wise men; for the others, which have been mentioned up to this point, were found in the order and arrangement they have among Solomon's pronouncements." But he errs; for the title of these parables, just as of the preceding ones, is: "Parables of Solomon." Whence it is established that they were selected from the writings of Solomon, not of other wise men.
You will ask how the men of Hezekiah transferred these parables of Solomon. I presuppose that they did not transfer them from one language into another, as Dionysius the Carthusian thought. For it is established that Solomon wrote them in the Hebrew language, and in the same language they were transferred here by the men of Hezekiah.
The common opinion of interpreters is that the following parables were not joined to the preceding ones before Hezekiah, but were written on a separate parchment, and perhaps on various parchments and sheets. For the Hebrews did not write on separate pages that are then bound together into one volume, as is done in modern books; rather they wrote the entire codex on a single parchment, made from one or many skins (if the book was long) joined together, which they then rolled around a cylinder in a circle, and would unroll and unfold when they wished to read it, just as Christ unrolled and opened the scroll of Isaiah in Luke 4:17. Therefore, lest these parables, scattered and dispersed, should perish, or lose the authority and name of Solomon through the passage of time, Hezekiah took care that they be collected and attached to the other parables of Solomon, and transcribed onto the same parchment or codex with them. And so before Hezekiah the book of Proverbs of Solomon ended at chapter 24; but Hezekiah added chapter 25 and the following. So say Lyranus, Cajetan, Jansenius, Rabbi Solomon, Aben-Ezra, and the other Hebrew, Greek, and Latin commentators.
Our Salazar thinks differently: for he holds that this book of Proverbs is a kind of banquet of the wisdom and sages of Solomon, in which, following the ancient custom, Solomon, Agur, and Lemuel speak in turns, being the foremost wise men of that age. Since Solomon has spoken up to this point, he yielded his turn to Agur and Lemuel; whence the Septuagint, in the very ancient Vatican codex, places their sayings before chapter 25 (although our Vulgate, following the Hebrew, transferred them to chapters 30 and 31). When these were finished, Solomon resumed his turn of speaking and completing his wisdom, and brought forth the sayings placed in this chapter and the following ones. Moreover, the men of Hezekiah, in order to unite all the sayings of Solomon, transferred them here, so that they would be joined immediately to the preceding ones, which are known to be Solomon's, while the other sayings of Agur and Lemuel, which had formerly been interposed between both groups (as I said), they removed and placed after all of Solomon's sayings in chapters 30 and 31.
They transferred, therefore, that is, they moved them from one place to another, so that, whereas they formerly followed the sayings of Agur and Lemuel, they now precede them, and immediately cohere with the other parables of Solomon.
This opinion seems probable and plausible. For thus Plato in his Symposium introduces Socrates, Pausanias, Phaedrus, Eryximachus, and others discoursing on love; and Plutarch in his Banquet introduces the seven sages of Greece debating about laws. But certain things seem to stand against it. First, that the Septuagint makes no mention of Agur and Lemuel, but takes and interprets these names not as proper nouns but as appellatives, as our Vulgate also does. Second, that after the words of Agur the Septuagint weaves in the words of Solomon which we have at chapter 24, verse 23: "These things also to the wise," etc. Add that many understand by Agur and Lemuel none other than Solomon himself, about which more in chapter 30. Thus in this century learned men have gathered the various scattered books or treatises of St. Augustine, St. Gregory, St. Basil, St. Cyprian, St. Bernard, etc., into a single volume for each, in order to attribute them to their authors.
I say therefore that what I stated at the beginning seems more certain: that the following parables were separated from the preceding ones before Hezekiah, and written on other sheets or parchments; but Hezekiah took care that they be attached to the earlier ones on the same parchment and codex, so that they might obtain the name and authority of Solomon and of Sacred Scripture just as the others had. Whence the Hebrew hetiku can be translated, as I said, "they made ancient and strengthened," that is, they added to them the strength of antiquity.
Blessed Hippolytus the Martyr and Eusebius add that the men of Hezekiah selected the better and more useful sayings of Solomon, and transcribed them here; but neglected and passed over the others that were less notable and less useful. Indeed, if you look into the following maxims, you will see that they breathe something more keen, select, lively, and fiery than the rest. For this reason the Chaldean here translates: "the profound parables of Solomon"; the Syriac: "the abstruse." Whence Aben-Ezra says these parables are singular and overflowing with the greatest sweetness. For it is established from 1 Kings 4:32 that Solomon composed more than a thousand songs, or odes, and three thousand parables. But in this book there are scarcely a thousand parables; indeed, if you number them from chapter 10, where the parables precisely begin, all the way to the end, you will find precisely only 659.
But hear Blessed Hippolytus and Eusebius as cited by Anastasius of Nicæa, Question 39 on Scripture. Blessed Hippolytus on the Song of Songs, says Anastasius, asserts that in the days of Hezekiah king of Judah some books were chosen and others neglected, and he proves this from chapter 25 of Proverbs, where the men of Hezekiah are said to have transferred certain parables of Solomon; but he says they described selected ones. "But from where," he says, "did they select, if not from the books that were among the thousand odes or Songs of Songs? From these the wise friends of Hezekiah chose those things that pertained to the edification of the Church."
Thus he himself reads in the Septuagint: αὗται αἱ παιδεῖαι Σαλομῶντος αἱ διάκριτοι — not, as is now read in the Roman edition, ἀδιάκριτοι; for it has: "these are the selected Proverbs of Solomon, which the friends of Hezekiah the king wrote." The same Anastasius, Bishop of Nicæa, reports to the same effect the words of Eusebius Pamphilus from his history of antiquity: "The books of Solomon bearing the name of Proverbs and Songs, in which he had discoursed on the nature of plants and of every kind of animal that lives on earth and in the air, and also on remedies against all diseases — Hezekiah suppressed these for the reason that the people were attributing the healing of diseases to them, and were not seeking cures from God."
Abulensis also agrees with Hippolytus: "Concerning the parables and songs of Solomon," he says, "perhaps the situation was such that they were more curious and displayed the greatness of his intellect rather than being useful, especially the songs, and therefore they were not transferred into the canon of Scripture. The same must be said of Solomon's discussions on trees, birds, fish, and beasts, which were not transcribed into the canon, because they pertained purely to natural philosophy, which does not directly benefit morals. Whence the Apostle's words do not apply to them: 'All Scripture divinely inspired is useful for teaching, for reproving, for correcting, for instructing in justice,'" etc. These are the words of Abulensis in 1 Kings ch. 4, Question 8.
From these words of Eusebius and Hippolytus it is clear that the true reading of the Septuagint in this place is διάκριτοι, that is, "distinguished, selected, separated" — namely from the less outstanding and less useful, as I said. Now contrarily it is read ἀδιάκριτοι, that is, "undistinguished, unseparated," that is, as the Author of the Greek Catena explains, "collected without any definite selection." The proverbs, he says, that have been set forth up to this point were found to have been gathered and arranged into one body by Solomon himself. But many other sayings, in the form of apophthegms, originally put forth by Solomon, were still circulating in scattered fashion. The friends of Hezekiah the king, gathering them from here and there without observing any fixed order, and reducing them into a single bundle as it were, offered them to King Hezekiah as a kind of honorary gift, since he was considered exceedingly pious and devout. Salazar however says: "These parables are called 'undistinguished' because, whereas before Hezekiah they were distinguished from the preceding ones (which we have heard thus far) by the interposed sayings of Agur and Lemuel, the men of Hezekiah, having removed the sayings of Agur and Lemuel and transposed them to chapter 30, joined the following to the preceding, so that there would be no distinction of authors, but all would be attributed indiscriminately to one and the same author, namely Solomon, to whom they truly belong."
"The men" (that is, servants and officials) "of Hezekiah." — For Hezekiah was very zealous for piety and sacred matters, as is clear from 2 Chronicles chapters 29 and 30. Whence he charged his men to seek out, transcribe, and arrange in their proper place and order the sacred books, and especially those of Solomon, keeping them whole, pure, and uncorrupted. He gave the responsibility for this matter to Shebna his scribe, who carried it out diligently with his associates. So say Aben-Ezra and the other Hebrews. Whence it is clear that this versicle, or inscription, is not Solomon's, but was added by Shebna and the men appointed by Hezekiah to collect these parables. Nevertheless, this inscription has canonical authority, because it exists in the Hebrew, Greek, Chaldean, Syriac, and Latin, and has been approved by the common judgment both of the Jewish Synagogue and of the Christian Church, and therefore it has been woven in as a title to the Parables themselves.
Moreover, many hold that Isaiah the prophet was the foremost among these men of Hezekiah, as he was a kinsman and intimate friend of Hezekiah. Indeed the Hebrews, as attested by Eugubinus in chapter 1 of Genesis, and the Talmudists, as attested by Melchior Cano in Book II of De Locis, chapter 11 — and even Eugubinus himself and Rabbi Moses Kimchi in his treatise On the Writers of Sacred Books — assert that Isaiah was the writer of the books of Solomon, especially of the Parables, as if Solomon did not write these parables but spoke them, and the people celebrated them in common speech and use, and then Isaiah wrote them down and committed them by the pen to posterity. For Solomon was a king; and it is not the part of kings to write, but to speak, and to leave their sayings for others to write. Furthermore, he was a type of Christ, who did not write the Gospels but spoke them, and taught by the living voice, and left them for the Evangelists to write. For in Christ there was "the grace of the tongue and the sovereignty of speech," as Manilius says.
But all the other commentators teach the contrary, and this is far more true: namely that Solomon directly wrote these Proverbs himself, or at least dictated them to a scribe taking them down. For he himself expressly asserts this in Ecclesiastes 12:9, speaking of himself in the third person: "The Preacher, when he was most wise, taught the people, and narrated what he had done, and searching composed many parables; he sought useful words, and wrote most upright discourses." Otherwise the author and writer of these Parables would be not so much Solomon as Isaiah, just as St. Matthew is the author of the Gospel he wrote, even though it was spoken and pronounced by Christ. And by what means, I ask, could the people have preserved so many hundreds, nay thousands, of Solomon's sayings — utterly diverse and disparate as they are — so completely and exactly in mind and memory over the two hundred years that elapsed from Solomon to Isaiah?
Some respond that the Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs were written by Solomon in Hebrew verse and meter, so that they could be retained in the mind and sung aloud; for songs are easily committed to memory, because they are bound by fixed rhythms. So judges Gregory Nazianzen, in Poem 33 On the Genuine Books of Scripture, when he sings thus:
"Five consist of meter: Job, David, and three of Solomon's: The Assembly, and the renowned Songs, and the sacred Proverbs."
"The Assembly" is Ecclesiastes. Amphilochius repeats this same opinion in almost the same words in his iambic poem On the Books of Scripture to be Read, and Damascene in Book IV of On the Faith, chapter 18, saying: "The third set of five sacred books consists of verse, namely Job, the Psalter, the Proverbs of Solomon, his Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs." Nor is it foreign to satirical poetry to assail the public corruption of morals, to censure the peculiar vices of all orders of the commonwealth, and to begin abruptly, not without indignation and bitterness. These features, as they are found in Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, are so characteristic of satirical poets that they need no proof. But in the Proem to Ecclesiastes I shall show that these were written in prose, not in verse. Add that St. Jerome, in his letter to Paula Urbana, judges that only the last part of Proverbs, namely chapter 31, verse 10 to the end, was written in verse: "Proverbs of Solomon," he says, "closes with an Alphabet, which is reckoned in iambic tetrameter from the passage in which it says: 'Who shall find a valiant woman?'"
2. IT IS THE GLORY OF GOD TO CONCEAL A WORD, AND THE GLORY OF KINGS TO SEARCH OUT A MATTER.
In Hebrew: "the glory of God is to hide a word, and the glory of kings to search out a word." The Arabic: "the glory of God veils the understanding, and the glory of the king honors the matter, or the business."
Fittingly and piously the scribes of the devout King Hezekiah draw the beginning of this part of the Parables from divine worship and honor, says Aben-Ezra.
Some refer the word "to conceal" to man, not to God, as if to say: It pertains to the glory of God that a man out of humility conceal his good works or benefactions; for by this very act he takes away their glory from himself and ascribes it to God. Or rather, as if to say: It pertains to God's glory that priests and teachers conceal some of His words, so that the common people, not understanding them, may admire and worship. Conversely, it is glorious for kings, through themselves or their counselors or prelates, to investigate and penetrate secrets that the common people do not know: for thus they imitate the glory of God, who transcends the knowledge of the crowd. Whence the Chaldean and Syriac translate: "the glory of God is he who conceals a word, and the glory of kings is he who searches out a matter." Hence the priest is called "mystes" as if "concealer," from the Greek ἀπὸ τοῦ μύειν τὸ στόμα, that is, because he closes his mouth and does not open the mysteries to the people; for divine things are to be honored with chaste silence, as St. Dionysius says. But the antithesis between God and kings more strongly suggests that "to conceal" refers to God, not to man.
Again, Rabbi Levi explains it thus: "The glory of God is to conceal a word" — the force of this is that when someone asks something of God through prayers, it is not part of God's glory that He make known what is being asked, since God is aware of all things. For do you not observe that the wife of Jeroboam disguised herself when she went to Ahijah the Shilonite, and yet before she came into his presence, he revealed what she sought, since God disclosed the secrets to him? "The glory of kings is to search out a matter," as if to say: But the case is different with the glory of kings; for they must properly investigate what is proposed to them, in order to administer justice according to the standard of truth. For they have knowledge only of what is set before them, whereas with God it is otherwise. So says Rabbi Levi. But this sense is too narrow and too far-fetched.
I say therefore that the sense is, as if to say: The immense majesty and glory of God shines forth in this, that He possesses certain words, that is, concepts, thoughts, and a certain most hidden wisdom, which men cannot search out; but the praise and glory of kings is to search out the matter, or, as it is in the Hebrew, the word, that is, the hidden and concealed reality and wisdom.
The reason for this disparity is that God is, as in essence so also in wisdom, supreme, transcending infinitely all things and all created and possible intellects of men or angels. It is therefore fitting for His sublimity and majesty to reserve and conceal many things to Himself, in order to sharpen the reverence of men and win their veneration for Himself. But kings, because as men they possess little wisdom, yet need much to govern so many peoples and cities; therefore it is their task to seek and search it out with great zeal. To this point belongs that saying of the Wise Man: "It is fitting that divine things be most remote from the use and sight of men, so that by the ignorance of them they may inspire men's admiration and veneration." And that of Valerius Maximus, Book II, chapter 7: "Whatever is placed on an exalted summit should be free from low and common familiarity, that it may be more venerable."
Therefore by "word" understand here wisdom in general; for this is the word of the mind, both in God and in kings, which they then utter by the word of the mouth. In particular, however, this word and wisdom is manifold. Wherefore, first, by this word understand the word of Sacred Scripture, as if to say: The word of Scripture, and especially the oracles of the Prophets, is hidden, symbolic, and concealed, so as to veil and hide the glory of God among men. But it is the task of kings to uncover, track down, and search out the same, so that they may know their hidden meanings and hand them on for others to know. Whence Moses, or rather God, decreed that kings at the beginning of their reign should copy for themselves the book of Deuteronomy and read it frequently (Deut. 17:18).
Second, by this word understand the mysteries and Sacraments of the faith, such as the Most Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist, etc.; for these are hidden and surpass all human comprehension. Whence St. Athanasius in his Synopsis of Sacred Scripture reads: "The glory of God covers or obscures reason," as if to say: The glory of the Most Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Eucharist is so sublime and hidden that human reason grows dim in investigating it, and its keen edge is blunted and darkened by so splendid a radiance of the uncreated sun. Hence St. Dionysius, Epistle 5, and in On the Divine Names, teaches that God dwells in darkness, and reveals Himself to mortals only through it.
Let heretics take note of this, and learn to believe God when He says He is three and one, that the Word is incarnate, that in the Eucharist there is the true Body of Christ, etc., even if they cannot grasp these things, because God can do more than the human mind can comprehend. For it is written in verse 27: "He who searches into majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory." Let them therefore take captive their understanding in obedience to the faith, or rather to God. Hence the hidden glory of God was represented by the Cherubic chariot in Ezekiel chapter 1, which is full of veils, symbols, and enigmas, says Rabbi Solomon. Moreover it is the task of kings and princes, especially of prelates, to search these out insofar as it is permitted — that is, insofar as God has revealed them through the Church — both to teach their subjects and to defend them against heretics.
Third, by "word" understand the creation of things, which was made by the word of God: "For He spoke, and they were made" — as if to say: God has hidden His wisdom in created things, and He willed that men, especially kings and princes, should search it out, so that they might recognize and celebrate God as its Author. This is what Sirach says (Eccl. 3:25): "Things far beyond the understanding of men have been shown to you." For who can assign the precise and adequate cause of the winds, of snow, hail, thunder, lightning; likewise of the motions of the sun, moon, and stars, of the tides of the sea, and of infinitely many similar things? And in chapter 43, verse 34: "You who exalt Him, be filled with strength, and do not grow weary; for you will not comprehend, etc.; many things greater than these lie hidden; for we have seen but few of His works." So Aben-Ezra.
Fourth, and more fittingly, by "word" understand the decrees and judgments that proceed from Elohim (for this is the name here in the Hebrew), that is, from God as judge, governor, and avenger of all things. For the reasons and causes of these are often difficult to penetrate: for example, why now the Assyrians, now the Chaldeans, now the Medes, now the Persians, now the Greeks, now the Romans hold power? Why has God given the Turks so many victories, kingdoms, and empires? Why in particular does He make this man rich, noble, a prince, a king, a pontiff, and that man poor, lowly, common, etc.? Yet it is the task of kings to search out these judgments of God and their causes, insofar as they may, so that they may learn to revere God, to worship Him, and to depend entirely on Him. Or more plainly, as if to say: It is the glory of God to conceal the reasons for His decrees and judgments, in order to display His eminent majesty, wisdom, dominion, and power. But it is the part of kings to decree nothing, to judge nothing, without a prior thorough examination, so that the law or sentence they are about to issue may be established as
Note that the appendix of these parables, collected by the men of Hezekiah, is obscure and profound, and more involved in allegories, figures, and types than those that preceded, as I said from the Chaldean, Syriac, and others at verse 1, as if to say: God's glory is to conceal His wisdom in these parables of Solomon; but let it be your honor, O King Hezekiah, to collect, track down, and search out these same parables, as you do through Shebna and his associates — just as it was the honor of Solomon your ancestor to meditate upon, search out, and write them down. Wherefore some Rabbis foolishly fabricate from this maxim the idea that the men of Hezekiah pruned the obscure parables of Solomon, which only kings could understand, and collected only the easier ones that were accessible to the people.
This sense is given by St. Gregory, Book I on Ezekiel, Homily 6, where however there is a gross error of copyists; for it directly contradicts the words of Solomon, and therefore must be corrected. "Dark water," he says, "in the clouds of the air, because the knowledge in the Prophets is obscure. But by the attesting voice of Solomon we have heard: 'The glory of kings is to conceal a word, and the glory of God is to search out a matter'; because the honor of men is to hide secrets, and the glory of God is to open the mysteries of His speech." You have an error here that plainly inverts the text of Scripture. Correct it thus: "But by the attesting voice of Solomon we have heard: 'The glory of God is to conceal a word, and the glory of kings is to search out a matter'; because the honor of God is to hide His secrets, and the glory of men is to open the mysteries of His speech." Whence fittingly he adds to this opinion: "Truth Himself says to His disciples: 'What I tell you in the dark, speak in the light,' that is, openly set forth what you hear in the obscurities of allegories. And the very obscurity of God's utterances is of great utility, because it exercises the understanding, so that it is enlarged by exertion, and thus exercised it grasps what the idle mind cannot grasp. It has also another still greater benefit: that the understanding of Sacred Scripture, if it were clear in all points, would become cheap. And so in certain more obscure passages, the understanding, once found, refreshes with so much greater sweetness as it wearied the mind with greater labor in the seeking."
This is what Clement of Alexandria says, Book I of the Stromata: truth that has been sought by study and prepared by labor is sweeter and more pleasing to the taste, just as for hunters and their dogs after long chases and the labors of the hunt, the quarry already captured and possessed is most delightful.
Fifth, some understand by "word" a commandment. Whence the Septuagint translates: "the glory of God is to conceal a word; but the glory of the king honors matters" — or, as others read, "honors commandments." For instead of πράγματα (matters), Procopius and others read προστάγματα (commandments). Whence the Author of the Greek Catena translates: "the glory of the king magnifies his commands, not allowing anyone to violate them with impunity." Others commonly read: "the glory of the king honors his commandments" — namely God's — as if to say: It is the glory of God to conceal the reasons and causes of His commandments — for example, why He commanded that no one wear a garment woven of wool and linen together, that no one sow a field with mixed seed, that no one eat the first fruits of trees, etc. (Lev. 19:19 and following); for He is the absolute and supreme Lord of all, and of His wisdom there is no number. Therefore all men, even kings, must most humbly submit their necks, their reason, and their judgment to Him, and lovingly embrace His precepts; and as it is permitted, modestly search out their reasons, but where it is not permitted, rest in God's will and judgment.
Again, our Pineda, Book III of De Rebus Salomonis, chapter 6, number 14, explaining that passage of Wisdom chapter 9: "For the thoughts of mortals are timid," says: This indicates that the thoughts of kings ought to be devoted to this one thing: to discover what God wills. For although He wishes His counsels and His will to be diligently sought out, He nevertheless sometimes conceals them, so that they may not be entirely patent to the slothful and idle, as it is written in Proverbs 25:2: "It is the glory of God to conceal a word, and the glory of kings to search out a matter" — namely that very thing which God conceals. And so it is proper to kings to reflect upon and investigate what He wills.
Mystically, Bede says: "The glory of the Lord, appearing in the flesh, is to show to mortal eyes more the weakness of His humanity than the eternity of His divinity, and to acknowledge Himself as the Word, that is, the Son of God, rather by the miracles of His works and by mystical speech than by open assertions. Whence in the Gospel He was accustomed much more often to call Himself the Son of Man than the Son of God. And it is the glory of His faithful disciples to diligently search out His speech, by which He mystically signifies Himself to be God even where He does not openly say so, such as: 'I and the Father are one,' and other sayings of this kind."
Finally, concealing the eternity of the Word and presenting the weakness of the flesh, He said: "Whom do men say the Son of Man is?" To which the outstanding investigator of His speech, which he had often heard before, answered: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." And by this investigation he merited no small glory; for immediately he heard: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah," etc.
From what has been said it is clear that this maxim of Solomon does not contradict that of Raphael in Tobit 12:7: "It is good to conceal the secret of the king, but it is honorable to reveal and confess the works of God." For by "secret" is understood the secret that the king wishes to be entirely concealed; but by "works of God" those things that God shows to men and commands to be revealed to them through angels or men. Here however it is only said that it is God's glory to conceal many things, and to leave them for men, especially kings, to search out. Whence it is clear that both are true, and the latter does not contradict the former. is just, honorable, and useful; for otherwise they will issue many sentences and laws that are unjust, dishonorable, and useless, by which they will gravely offend both God and the people, with the danger of sedition or rebellion. This sense is very fitting, and seems almost inherent in the words themselves.
Some explain it thus, as if to say: It is glorious among the rude and incapable populace to conceal the lofty mysteries and judgments of the divinity, lest they be spurned and ridiculed by the unworthy and the uncomprehending. But it is truly glorious for kings if their words and deeds are diligently examined, and when examined are found to be equitable and upright. But the phrase "the glory of kings is to search out a matter" properly signifies that this searching is to be done by the kings themselves.
More fittingly Cajetan says: The honor of God and the honor of the king are contrasted in these two actions, namely concealing a word and searching out a word; thus to conceal a word is the honor of Elohim, and not of kings; and conversely, to search out a word is the honor of kings, and not of Elohim. For one must understand these things beforehand in order to grasp the senses of the parable. Since therefore the word of Elohim (that is, of God insofar as He is judge) is the judgment itself, it follows that to conceal the word means to hide the reasons for His judgments. And the sense is: It pertains to the honor of the supreme Judge to hide the reasons for His judgments; for the reasons for the divine judgments that He often exercises are most hidden from us in their particulars. And between God and a king there is so great a disparity that it pertains to the disgrace of kings to conceal the reasons for their judgments, since they must make known why they judge thus, why they condemn this man to exile or death, etc. But it pertains to God's honor to conceal the reasons for His judgments, because through this it is made known that He has no superior or equal, that His dominion and His justice do not depend on us, but on His will alone. And it pertains to the honor of kings to seek or search out the word, that is, the knowledge and truth of words, deeds, and things — which it is not fitting to attribute to God. For to inquire is the mark of one who does not know; but God in Himself has known all things from eternity. To this belongs the saying of Cleomenes: "The will of the people is above the prince." For the king depends on the kingdom and the commonwealth, but God depends on no one; rather the whole world depends on God, as a ray depends on the sun.
More simply, Jansenius says, as if to say: It pertains to the glory of God that He need inquire into nothing, since He knows all things, and that, although He knows all things, He does not immediately declare that He knows everything, but conceals and dissimulates all that is presently done and said among men, intending to reveal everything in His own time, when He will bring all things to judgment. For this wonderfully commends His patience and gentleness — that He who knows all things nevertheless for so long a time covers everything and patiently bears it. But lest kings, who are placed in His stead here on earth, should wish to imitate this example in God, it is contrarily added that it pertains to the glory of kings to search out a matter, that is, to diligently inquire into the state of their kingdom, and into those things that are being done by their subjects in their kingdom, so that what needs to be corrected and punished, they may correct and punish. For they should not consider it beneath them to inquire into matters, even though this is the mark of those who do not know. Nor should they conduct themselves like God, as if they know all things. Nor should they conceal things that they know need correction, in the manner of God, but should uncover and punish them. The sense therefore is: Just as it contributes to God's glory that He need not inquire into anything, but though He knows all things He nevertheless conceals them — so contrarily it contributes to the glory of kings that, since they must confess that as men they do not know most things, they diligently search out matters that need to be known, so that once discovered they may uncover and direct them.
3. THE HEAVEN ABOVE, AND THE EARTH BENEATH, AND THE HEART OF KINGS IS UNSEARCHABLE.
In Hebrew: "of the heavens in their height, and of the earth in its depth, and of the heart of kings there is no searching out." The Chaldean: "the heavens are lofty, and the earth is deep, and the heart of kings is searchable." The Syriac: "it is not searched out."
First, Rabbi Solomon explains it thus, as if to say: Just as the sublimity of the heavens and the depth of the earth cannot be searched out. For how often, he says, must the king render justice? How many wars must he wage? To all of which he must be present with provident care. And if all tongues were to speak and all hands to devote themselves to writing, they would not be sufficient to describe the grave and manifold affairs of the empire.
Baynus approaches this similarly, explaining it as follows: The king does not have the leisure to investigate the height of the heavens and the depth of the earth, because so many affairs of the commonwealth occupy his heart that it is almost impossible to examine them all.
Second, Vatablus explains it contrarily, as if to say: Each, namely both heaven and earth, is in a definite place, and therefore each can be comprehended; but the heart of kings, because it is undefined and quasi-infinite, can be comprehended by no investigation.
Third, Aben-Ezra joins this verse to the preceding, as if to say: The glory of God is hidden in the height of the heavens and the depth of the earth, and in the innumerable, most varied and most beautiful things that are contained within their compass. Therefore the heart of the king cannot search into and penetrate them, nor understand the things that are above in the heavens or those that are below in the earth. He therefore takes "unsearchable" not passively — meaning that it cannot be searched by others — but actively — meaning that it cannot search out the heavens and the earth. Whence the Hebrew has: "of the heart, or to the heart, of kings there is no searching" — namely of the heavens and the earth.
Fourth, Rabbi Levi says, as if to say: The heaven is supremely lofty, and the earth is supremely deep, and the heart of the king ought to be loftier than the heaven, and deeper than the earth. For it ought to be as if immense, so that with immense reason it may embrace, arrange, and expedite the affairs of the whole commonwealth and of each of its individual subjects, and therefore it is unsearchable and inscrutable.
Fifth, the genuine sense is, as if to say: Just as the heights of heaven and the depths of the earth are unsearchable ("and," that is, "so"), likewise the heart of kings is unsearchable. For the word "unsearchable" must be understood by zeugma as applying also to "heaven" and "earth," as is clear from the Hebrew. And the conjunction "and" here denotes similarity and comparison, as often elsewhere in Proverbs, meaning the same as "so" or "in like manner." For although astronomers have measured the height of the heavens and the depth of the earth, nevertheless they have been unable to assign any certain and definite measurement of either — whence there is great variety and disagreement among them, as our Clavius recounts in Book I of the Sphere. Again, no one has been able to search out all things contained within the compass of heaven and earth; therefore this searching is curious, vain, and useless, says St. Augustine, just as the investigation of the profound counsels of the royal heart is curious and vain. So say Bede, Hugh, Cajetan, Jansenius, and the rest generally. the heart of the king is in the hand of the Lord." Thus the heart of Nebuchadnezzar was driven by God to the punishment and destruction of impious nations. Thus Attila used to say that he was the scourge of God. But the counsels and secrets of God — who can search them out? Therefore this maxim is parallel to the preceding one, as if to say: The glory of God is to conceal a word — and He conceals it in the heart of the king, so that through him He may carry it out. Again, just as it is the glory of God, so also of the king, who is like a god on earth, to conceal the words and secrets of his heart. He notes above other kings Solomon, whose parables he here describes: for Solomon received from God infused wisdom of all things, and therefore a wisdom inscrutable and impenetrable to other men.
Solomon says this with this end and purpose: first, to restrain the vanity of the curious. For there are some idle and inquisitive people who do nothing other than search into and conjecture the secret counsels of kings and princes; in which pursuit they waste their time uselessly, and are often deceived, because the heart of kings is unsearchable, and as far as heaven is distant from earth, so far do the thoughts of kings surpass and exceed the thoughts of private persons.
Second, to teach that the private friendships, intimacies, and favors of kings are not to be sought after. For since they stand out like the heavens, whoever clings to them is whirled around with them in constant motion, like the heavens. But whoever is farther from them, content with little, stands quiet and firm on the earth. Especially because kings often cast down their intimates, whom they had raised on high and as it were to heaven, for a slight offense, and prostrate them to the very earth, as it were. In our century we have seen this happen in the courts of nearly all kings, because the hearts of kings are changeable and inscrutable. This is what the Psalmist says: "Do not put your trust in princes, in the sons of men, in whom there is no salvation" (Psalm 145:3).
Hence the Septuagint for "unsearchable" translates ἀνεξέλεγκτος, that is, "beyond searching" or "that cannot be reproved" — because the king has no superior on earth by whom he can be reproved — or "irreproachable, greater than all reproach," as the author of the Greek Catena translates. Both because the heart of the king is fully transparent to no mortal, and because it admits no one's reproof, as if to say: The king's power over all is supreme, so that whatever he does, he does with impunity; and even if he casts down an innocent person or, as it were, casts him from heaven to earth, no one dares to blame or challenge him. Thus King Philip ordered poison to be given to Aratus, who, sensing this, turned to his friend and said: "O Cephalus, these are the rewards of royal friendship." Antipater, when he learned that Parmenion had been killed by Alexander, said: "If Parmenion plotted against Alexander, whom can one trust? If he did not, what is to be done?" Parmenion was like a second Alexander in military affairs. If so great a friend proved false, it is not safe to trust any friend; if Alexander destroyed one who had done nothing wrong, it is better to abstain from the affairs of kings. So says Plutarch in the Apophthegms of Kings and Commanders.
The a priori reason is, first, that kings have a great heart, that is, great souls and spirits, so that they meditate upon and resolve in their minds the greatest things — as Alexander the Great resolved in his mind to subjugate the whole world. But to fathom these counsels is difficult, and often impossible. Thus John of Austria, the natural son of Charles V, when he was being secretly raised in Spain as a boy, and was asked who his father was, responded that he did not know, but conjectured that he was the son of some great man from the great heart and spirits he felt within himself — and shortly afterwards he proved this when he defeated the Turks at the Echinades (Lepanto) in the year of Christ 1571, and the rebels in Belgium at Gembloux in 1577, with tremendous slaughter.
Second, because in the commonwealth and in kingdoms so many novelties, new movements, tumults, conspiracies, disputes, and difficulties arise daily that the heart of the king must daily revolve a thousand new counsels in his mind in order to meet them all — and for a private person to search these out is exceedingly difficult. Third, because the heart of kings, placed as it were in the lofty ether, is changeable, and exposed to the winds of various passions, reports, and flatteries, so that it often changes its decrees, and what pleased today displeases tomorrow. Therefore, just as a weathercock on the summit of towers is constantly turned and spun about by the blasts of the winds, so also is the heart of the king. Fourth, because kings affect wisdom, majesty, and eminence above all others, and therefore conceal many things in their minds, so that they may seem to surpass all and be wiser than all, and so that they may successfully carry out what they have planned — for secrecy wonderfully serves this end. Fifth, because God turns and bends the heart wherever He wills, so that through the king He may carry out His decrees, punishments, and vengeances, according to chapter 21:1: "The heart of the king is in the hand of the Lord."
Mystically, the king is the just and spiritual man, whose heart is governed by the Holy Spirit, and who therefore thinks great and heavenly things, and consequently is inscrutable to the natural man, according to 1 Corinthians 2:15: "The spiritual man judges all things, and he himself is judged by no one." So the Author of the Greek Catena. Bede however says: "Just as the height of the heaven and the depth of the earth cannot be guessed by men, so the knowledge of the Prophets and Apostles, who knew the secrets of the divinity through the revelation of the Holy Spirit, transcends the capacity of our frailty."
4, 5. TAKE AWAY THE RUST FROM SILVER, AND THERE SHALL COME FORTH A MOST PURE VESSEL; TAKE AWAY WICKEDNESS FROM THE FACE OF THE KING, AND HIS THRONE SHALL BE ESTABLISHED IN JUSTICE.
"His throne shall be established in justice" can be taken in two ways. First, as if to say: The justice of the king and the kingdom will be firm. Whence Vatablus translates: "the king will be just." Second, as if to say: The kingdom of the king will be firm and stable, as being supported on the firm and stable foundation of justice.
"Wickedness" can be taken in four ways, whence a fourfold sense arises here. First, for severity, threats, and cruelty, as if to say: Just as when rust is cleaned from silver, the silver becomes bright, beautiful, and shining, so if the king, setting aside his severe, threatening, and cruel countenance, puts on a benign, clement, and cheerful mind and face, he will shine like silver, and by the splendor of his cheerfulness he will bind the hearts of his subjects to himself. And so it will come about that he can freely and without danger exercise justice, render judgment, and punish any wicked person; for since he is loved by all, he will fear nothing rebellious or evil from anyone.
So says Bede: "For those who rule over peoples, if they wish their throne to be firm, should always display countenances full of cheerfulness and grace, lest by becoming more rigid through arrogance they fall into the murmuring of their peoples." Thus Julius Caesar, Augustus, Constantine, Theodosius, Charlemagne, and many others, by their benevolence and cheerfulness won the hearts of all, so that the people willingly accepted even the severe laws of justice they enacted. Thus indeed the divine wisdom of God "reaches from end to end mightily, and orders all things sweetly" (Wisdom 8:1).
Well known is the saying of King Antigonus: "No safeguard of a kingdom is more firm than the goodwill of the citizens." And that of Apollonius, who when asked by the king of Babylon how he could reign securely, answered: "If you honor many, but trust few." And that of Themistocles, who when someone advised him: "You will govern Athens well if you are willing to be equal and gentle to all," answered: "May I never sit in that seat from which my friends would gain nothing more from me than strangers."
Second, understand "wickedness" properly as that of the king himself, as if to say: Remove from the king his wickedness, which is like rust on the silvery royal heart, obscuring, consuming, and corrupting it. And cause the king to be zealous for piety, virtue, and justice; so it will come about that he exercises justice everywhere, and through it strengthens and confirms his throne and kingdom. Thus, if Saul had sincerely removed his hatred of David, he would have established his throne in justice.
Third, take "wickedness" metonymically for the wicked, as it is in the Hebrew, Chaldean, Syriac, Septuagint, Vatablus, and Pagninus. For our Vulgate reads רשע rescha, that is, "wickedness"; but the Chaldean and modern scholars, reading with different vowel points, have רשע rascha, that is, "the wicked person." Whence they translate thus: "Remove the dross from silver, and a vessel will come forth for the refiner" — a precious one, because refined and purged. "Remove the wicked person from before the king, and his throne will be directed or established in justice." The Chaldean: "Gather the rust from silver, so that a vessel may come forth from the smelter, and his throne will be prepared in justice." The Syriac: "Separate the dross from silver, so that the pure metal may come forth; the wicked man shall be broken before the king," etc.
The sense therefore is, as if to say: Remove from the sight and company of the king his wicked counselors, princes, friends, and flatterers, who suggest perverse counsels to him; and in their place install counselors, princes, and familiars who are upright, just, and wise. For by their advice, example, and assistance it will come about that the king decrees just and holy things, and by firmly carrying them out, establishes himself and his kingdom through justice and probity. On the contrary, Isaiah (ch. 1:23) attributes the destruction of Jerusalem and the kings of Judah to wicked counselors and princes: "Your princes are faithless, companions of thieves; all love bribes, they chase after rewards." Whence, having excluded them, God promises to install other upright men in their place, who will restore Jerusalem to its former splendor; for He says in verse 25: "I will refine your dross to purity, and I will remove all your tin; and I will restore your judges as they were before, and your counselors as in ancient times; after this you shall be called the city of the just, the faithful city." See the commentary there, and Jeremiah chapter 6, verses 29 and 30, where the same metaphor of purging silver from dross is applied to Israel.
This sense is very fitting; for it touches the root of all good or bad government by kings. The root is the good or bad counselors and intimate familiars of the king: for as these are, so will the king be. If therefore the king takes to himself the just and upright, and expels the wicked, probity and justice will certainly flourish in the commonwealth, and his kingdom will be established therein. So say Rabbi Levi, Aben-Ezra, Jansenius, and others. Plutarch says truly in his Moralia: "The flatterer clings most tenaciously to the prince, as dross to silver."
Antisthenes, asked how one should approach the management of public affairs, said: "As to a fire — lest being too close you be burned, or being too far away you grow cold." So says Stobaeus, Sermon 43.
Fourth, broadly and generally, by "wickedness" understand any crimes and criminals, as if to say: Just as the smelter or goldsmith and silversmith removes the dross from silver by fire, so likewise the king ought to remove the wicked from his sight and from the entire kingdom by punishment and retribution. What the smelter does in purging the silver from dross, let the king do in purging the kingdom from the wicked. For in the commonwealth and kingdom, silver is mixed with dross — that is, probity with dishonesty, virtues with vices, the upright with the wicked. Let the king therefore separate them, retaining the upright and banishing the wicked. Thus it will come about that justice and the just will triumph throughout the kingdom, and consequently no one, neither the king nor anyone else, will have anything to fear from any unjust person.
Whence the Septuagint translates: "Strike the wicked or counterfeit silver, and the whole mass will be purified. Slay the wicked from before the king, and his throne will proceed rightly in justice." Note the word "strike": for just as by continuous striking silver is purged of its dross and restored to its purity, so too the commonwealth, if the wicked are struck down and destroyed in it, will be restored to justice, peace, and prosperity. So say Rabbi Solomon, Salazar, and others.
Diotogenes the Pythagorean says admirably in his book On Kingship, cited by Stobaeus, Sermon 48: "Three are the offices of a king: to command, to judge, and to worship the gods. Therefore in a perfect king it is required that he be a good commander, judge, and priest. For as it is the pilot's task to save the ship, the charioteer's the chariot, the doctor's the sick, so it is the king's and commander's to save those in peril of war." And further: "As God is to the world, so the king is to the city; and as the city is to the world, so the king is to God. For the city imitates the structure and harmony of the world; and the king, being subject to no one and being a living law, represents the figure of God among men. Accordingly the king must not be conquered by pleasure, but be its conqueror. Again, he who wishes to rule others must first learn to rule his own passions." He adds a reason worthy of a king: "For it is fitting that he always surpass others in virtue, and be esteemed worthy of rule according to virtue, not according to wealth or power or right of arms." And he concludes with these words: "Therefore the king who is temperate regarding pleasures, generous regarding money, and prudent and serious in command — he shall truly be king. He will achieve this if he is first venerable both in appearance and in what is heard of him, and if he conducts himself as worthy of rule; and then if he is kind in conversation, countenance, and the conferring of benefits. It is fitting that what he does be admirable, so that as king he may carry himself as one more eminent than all others, bearing a certain divinity before him."
Mystically, the Author of the Greek Catena says: "He who slays in himself the base desires of the flesh and its wicked impulses toward lust, composes his mind toward justice, in which Christ the wisdom and knowledge of God rests." For Christ is the King of minds, and the mind itself is the king of the soul and of the whole person.
6, 7. DO NOT APPEAR GLORIOUS BEFORE THE KING, AND DO NOT STAND IN THE PLACE OF GREAT MEN (the Septuagint: δυναστῶν, that is, of dynasts, of princes). FOR IT IS BETTER THAT IT BE SAID TO YOU: "COME UP HERE," THAN THAT YOU BE HUMBLED BEFORE THE PRINCE.
For "do not appear glorious," the Hebrew is אל תתהדר al tithaddar, that is: do not show yourself off, do not adorn yourself, do not glorify yourself, whether by the splendor of your garments, or by the multitude of your servants, horses, and carriages, or by wisdom or eloquence, or any other thing, so as to imitate or surpass the great men and magnates — indeed to compete, as it were, with the king himself. For all the beauty and splendor of a private man, when set against the royal majesty and splendor, is dulled, broken, and vanishes. The Septuagint translates: μὴ ἀλαζονεύου, that is, "do not be proud, do not show yourself arrogant." The Roman edition: "do not show yourself glorious," for ἀλαζονεία means boasting, ostentation, pride, arrogance, vainglory, insolence, empty talk. The Chaldean: "do not be splendid in the sight of the king." The Syriac: "do not boast." Cajetan: "do not beautify yourself, and do not stand in the place of great men" — that is, as Vatablus says, do not occupy the place of magnates when you are not great.
Rabbi Solomon says: Do not boast magnificently before the king so as to display your glory, and do not conduct yourself proudly before one who is your superior in dignity; for it is better that it be said to you: "Come up here," than if you enter some place without leave and they order you to withdraw from it. Aben-Ezra says: Do not appear glorious — do not be splendid like that man with his chariot; and do not enter and linger in the place of the great, where the magnates gather. "Come up here" — for it is more to your advantage that it be said to you: "Come up here, and stay with us," than that before the king's eyes you be cast down from your rank, when they order you to depart from his presence.
This verse deals, as do the five preceding ones, with the king and his assembly among the magnates. For just as in verse 2 he compared the king with God, and in the three following verses compared him with his subjects, so here in turn he compares the subjects with the king, and teaches them modesty, that they should act humbly and reverently with the king and his magnates. The proper sense therefore is, as if to say: Do not display before the king your garments, wealth, nobility, eloquence, military skill, prudence, expertise, etc., and do not thrust or insert yourself among his magnates. For thus by your proud audacity you will offend both the king and his magnates, and you will be humbled and cast down by both.
The reason is that pride and ostentation are hateful to everyone, but most of all to kings and dynasts. First, because kings wish to surpass all, and consider or admire nothing great in comparison with themselves — whence Cyrus, in Xenophon, taught his men to admire nothing, since they had seen more admirable things and were themselves more to be admired than other men. Second, because kings wish their majesty to be acknowledged by all, and to be honored and looked up to with great deference in all things. Therefore they detest the proud and boastful as those who cast shadows on their majesty. On the contrary, they love the modest and humble, who by their lowliness honor kings and, content with their small lot and station, desire nothing. Whence, having perceived their wisdom and industry through the sagacity they possess, they gradually promote them to higher honors and say: "Come up here."
Hence consider ostentation of action most dangerous to yourself, for from it arises envy, that great storm of the court. Therefore do what needs to be done without any ostentation in the doing. Wisely therefore: "Sallustius Crispus, who possessed a vigor of mind for great affairs, was all the more keen the more he made a show of sleep and idleness," says Tacitus, Annals Book III. And Seneca in the Oedipus:
"The surest path for one who desires to reign Is to praise modest things, and speak of leisure and sleep."
Emmanuel, king of Portugal, being eager for praise of eloquence, ordered Aloysius Silveira to write for him a superb letter to the Pope, adding that he too would write another by his own hand and effort. Aloysius presented to the king the letter he himself had written. When it was read aloud, the king smiled and, taking Aloysius by the hand, said: "You have won, Aloysius; your letter is clearly worthy to be sent to Rome for its polish and acuteness, and it shall be sent. I consider mine scarcely worth reading." Aloysius blushed, and after giving thanks as was customary, immediately returned home, ordered his horses saddled, and together with his children, at noon, without having tasted any food, silently departed the country. When they were outside the city, Aloysius paused briefly and, turning to his children, said: "To another land, to another land, my sons, we must migrate; for I do not wish to live any longer in a kingdom where the king knows that I surpass him in talent and learning." For that prudent man had kept in memory the oracle of divine wisdom: "Before the king, do not appear wise." I have said more on this matter in my commentary on Ecclesiasticus 7:5.
Third, as if to say: Do not suddenly seek great offices and high seats, but at the beginning take small positions, and from them ascend gradually to greater ones; for in this way you will eventually reach the highest. The reason is, first, that those who immediately aspire to the top are exposed to universal envy, and strive to leap by an irregular jump from the ground to the throne. Second, that this is the order of all nature, art, and discipline: that progress be made step by step from small things to greater. For thus a boy gradually grows and becomes a youth, a young man, a man, and finally an old man. Thus all crops and fruits grow gradually. Thus in the military a recruit becomes a soldier, then a decurion, then a standard-bearer, then a centurion, then a commander of a thousand, etc. Thus in the Church, no one suddenly becomes a priest or deacon, but ascends gradually through the six minor Orders as through steps; for in each he proves his virtue and prepares and disposes himself for a higher grade. Whence St. Cyprian, in Book II to Antonianus, praises St. Cornelius for having ascended step by step through the individual ranks of offices to the Pontificate: "He did not suddenly arrive at the Episcopate," he says, "but was promoted through all the ecclesiastical offices, and having often merited well of the Lord in divine ministrations, he ascended to the sublime summit of the priesthood by all the steps of religious life."
Mystically, if before a king, how much more before God, who is King of kings and supremely hates the proud, we ought to humble ourselves, and remember our condition and frailty, and not claim for ourselves an eminent place of sanctity or wisdom before Him, nor aspire to some distinguished rank of honor in His Church! Lest we be compelled either here, or hereafter before God, the angels, and just men, to be put to shame — either because we do not attain the desired honor in the Church, or because having attained it we are found to be inferior to the office we have taken on, so that we must yield to more worthy persons. This is what St. Peter urges in his First Epistle, chapter 5, verse 6, saying: "Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in the time of visitation."
The antistrophe of this maxim of Solomon is that of Christ, who is the true Solomon, in Luke 14:8: "When you are invited to a wedding, do not recline in the first place, lest someone more honorable than you has been invited by him, and he who invited you and him comes and says to you: 'Give place to this man,' and then you begin with shame to take the last place. But when you are invited, go and recline in the last place, so that when he who invited you comes, he may say to you: 'Friend, go up higher,' and you will have glory before all who sit at table with you."
AND DO NOT STAND IN THE PLACE OF GREAT MEN.
Besides the proper sense already given, you may add these as well. First, as if to say: Do not aspire to high seats, great dignities, and chief governorships; but content with your modest or moderate station, live quietly and modestly until you are called to higher things by God or by the prince. For the private and humble life is the blessed one, because it lacks the thousand cares, distractions, and dangers with which the courtly life of the great and of princes teems. Ovid, having learned this too late, in Book III of the Tristia, Elegy 4, sings thus — or rather groans:
"If you trust a friend taught by experience, Live for yourself, and flee far from great names. Live for yourself, and as much as you can, shun the illustrious life: The cruel thunderbolt falls from the lofty citadel."
And further:
"Believe me, he who has been well hidden has lived well; and each Should remain within the bounds of his own fortune. Live without envy, and pass your gentle years Without glory; bind to yourself friends who are your equals."
Second, as if to say: Do not contend with the great over place, so that if they have occupied a certain position, you wish to stand in the same, claiming it is owed to you. For these contentions arise from ambition and create the danger of dueling, and not rarely of war with public and great calamity for many. Indeed in Belgium we have often seen cities taken by the enemy and powerful armies routed or disbanded because the captains competed among themselves over precedence and neither would yield to the other. Wherefore the ancient Romans considered this not nobility but folly, and punished it with death. Wisely and heroically, Damonides, when he had received the last place in the chorus from the choirmaster, said: "Well done, choirmaster — you have discovered how this place, undistinguished in itself, may become distinguished." And Agesilaus as a boy, although already designated king, when placed by the overseer in a rather undistinguished position at the public games, said: "Very well — I shall show that it is not the place that gives dignity to men, but men who give dignity to the place." So says Plutarch in the Laconian Sayings. When King Dionysius, offended by the philosopher Aristippus, invited the man to dinner and ordered him to recline in the lowest place of all at the banquet, Aristippus, not at all offended, said: "You wish to make this place illustrious, O king, and render it honorable" — signifying that the place does not make the man more base, but from the dignity of the man, honor is added to the place. So says Laertius, Book II, chapter 8.
There is a famous apologue on this subject, of the firmament and Saturn, in Cyril, Book II of Moral Apologues, chapter 24, entitled "Against those who are pompous because of the greatness of their graces." "The sphere of the fixed stars," he says, "was boasting of the greatness of its body, the speed of its motion, the grandeur of its universal power, and the multitude of its stars. Saturn, perceiving this display, is said to have addressed it thus: 'If the boasting is false, the confusion is real. But tell me, I beg you, O firmament, whence comes the reality of so great a mass, the speed of so great a motion, so great a brightness and number of stars?' And it answered: 'By an Intelligence I am moved, by the sun I am illuminated, the Author of all things created me, and the same fixed the stars within me.' Then Saturn added: 'You have nothing, then, that is from yourself, but you have taken everything from elsewhere.' To which it said: 'I confess it.' Thereupon the other continued: 'Why then, as though you had not received it, do you glory in the perfections communicated to you, and raise yourself as a usurper of another's glory? Do you not see that where the theft of pomposity contaminates the wise, there is no true glory — for all goodness belongs to Him? But to lose the true by the false, and to fall into confusion through vain glory, is most foolish.' Then with various parables and apt maxims he reinforces the same point: 'Thus too by saying "this is yours," he makes all of you his, and painted on the outside with deceitful glory, he gnaws you on the inside, emptied of grace. Wherefore the more noble you are, and the more excellent in the goods communicated to you, the more you should lie hidden, gathered within the solid bosom of humility. You are rich — fear the thief; with lynx-like vigilance hide your treasure; conceal the spirit of graces beneath the tunics of two coverings. You are gold — hide beneath the earth. You are a most precious ruby — conceal yourself in the rock of refuge. What more? Flee the glory of scattered light, and then with the night-lamp of interior glory you will shine with splendor.' With these words the exhorter fell silent." So far Cyril.
Finally, our Solomon — or rather the Holy Spirit speaking through him — says in Ecclesiastes 4:6: "Better is a handful with rest than both hands full with toil and affliction of spirit."
Verse 8. WHAT YOUR EYES HAVE SEEN, DO NOT BRING FORTH HASTILY IN A QUARREL, LEST AFTERWARDS YOU CANNOT MAKE AMENDS, WHEN YOU HAVE DISHONORED YOUR FRIEND.
From the Hebrew it can also be translated: "when your friend has dishonored you" — for a friend whom you have injured will in turn injure you, and repaying reproach with reproach, he will lay bare your secrets and shameful things.
There is here a threefold punctuation. First, Rabbi Levi, Rabbi Solomon, Aben-Ezra, and the modern Hebrew Bible refer the words "what your eyes have seen" to the preceding verse about the king and the magnates. Second, the Septuagint separates them from the rest, and supplying the verb "say," makes a separate maxim. Whence they translate: "What your eyes have seen, say; do not rush rashly into a quarrel or fight, lest at the end you be sorry." Third, most aptly, our Vulgate, Pagninus, Vatablus, and others attach them to what follows.
Therefore first, the Hebrews, omitting those words and referring them back to the preceding verse, express this maxim as follows. Rabbi Solomon: Do not take up a lawsuit against a friend, lest you be ashamed that you contended at law with a friend, with whom you should have contended in grace. The Chaldean: Do not go forth to a quarrel hastily, lest you contend later when you have provoked your friend, or when your friend has provoked you. The Syriac: Do not go forth to judgment swiftly, lest when you have judged, your friend reproach you. Baynus: Do not go forth to a lawsuit, but hasten to put an end to it, lest your friend put you to shame by forestalling you and inviting you to restore the friendship. Aben-Ezra: Do not go out to litigate unless you have first weighed the cause and determined within yourself that it is just, lest you get a bad reputation among your friends and be called a pursuer of lawsuits.
The second punctuation, that of the Septuagint, is ambiguous, and can be referred both to the preceding and to the present verse. To the preceding, as if to say: Do not display yourself and your wisdom before the king; but if you are asked by him about some matter, candidly and simply tell what your eyes have seen, that is, what you have seen or heard. For thus you will avoid the haughtiness of the arrogant, and will obtain the reputation of a modest and truthful person before him. This sense is very fitting. If you refer it to the present verse, by "quarrel" understand a cause and a civil lawsuit, as if to say: You who give testimony in a lawsuit before a judge, depose only what you have seen with your own eyes; and again, from what you have seen, do not say anything rashly and hastily when asked in some cause, lest late repentance for your words afterwards seize you — namely when you cannot or will not free the accused; lest you be compelled to retract what you said, and thus be considered a liar. As many do, in which matter they are like crocodiles, hunting dogs, and similar beasts, which once they have fixed their teeth in their prey, hardly ever let go. So says Salazar. To this belongs the saying: "A word once uttered knows not how to return."
The third punctuation, that of our Vulgate, is the most convenient, presenting the most fitting and most coherent sense. For it warns, says Jansenius, that no one should make public another's crime through quarreling and contention, even if he has seen it with his own eyes, much less if he has only heard it by vain rumor. Rather, according to Christ's precept, when a brother has sinned, he should be admonished in secret, and not through contention but in a spirit of gentleness — contrary to the custom of some who, as soon as they see something blameworthy in their neighbor, immediately bring it forth with quarreling and anger, and make it public. And so three things said here must be noted: "Do not bring forth" — and "in a quarrel" — and "hastily." For crimes, especially secret ones, are not to be brought forth and published; nor are they to be reproved with quarreling; nor hastily or precipitately, but in a fitting time and place. Although the phrase "in a quarrel" can be taken differently — not as "with a quarrel" or "through a quarrel," but as "in the course of quarreling," meaning that if it happens that you have some dispute or contention with someone, you should take care lest through impatience of spirit and desire to avenge yourself, you blurt out against the other person even those things you have seen, lest having besmirched your neighbor with some infamy, you cannot afterwards correct it and restore his stolen reputation, and thus you make yourself liable before God to a great sin, and expose yourself to great danger from the person injured.
Wisely says Plutarch in his Moralia: "Just as a ship seized by the waves cannot be stayed by an anchor, so neither can a word sent forth into the air." And again: "Just as it is not easy to recapture a bird released from the hand, so neither can a word once spoken be recalled."
9, 10. TREAT YOUR CAUSE WITH YOUR FRIEND, AND DO NOT REVEAL A SECRET TO A STRANGER: LEST HE INSULT YOU WHEN HE HEARS IT, AND NEVER CEASE TO UPBRAID YOU.
For "insultet" (insult) the Hebrew is חסדך iechassedecha, which properly means "lest he be pious and beneficent toward you"; but here and elsewhere it signifies the opposite by antiphrasis. Whence the Zurich Bible translates: "lest hearing he withdraw his beneficence from you." Vatablus and Pagninus: "lest he load you with reproaches." The Chaldean: "lest he reproach you."
"Cause" here can be taken in five respects, and hence five different senses arise. First, Cajetan, translating from the Hebrew: "your quarrel is the quarrel of your companion, and do not uncover another's secret, lest he reproach you, and your infamy not rest," explains it thus: This is a counsel full of charity — to consider the litigious cause of your friend as your own. And similar to this is the commandment not to reveal another's secret, but to hold it as your own. And the reason is added: Lest your own reputation suffer irreparable harm, when the one who hears his secrets uncovered assails you with reproach, and your friend's cause is not valued by you. For the irreparability of reputation is signified by the words: "Your infamy shall not rest." For those are infamous and guilty of injured friendship who betray a friend's secrets, or do not help him in a lawsuit and in adversity. So says Cajetan.
Second, Rabbi Solomon says, as if to say: You may indeed justly pursue your cause at law with your friend, if he wishes to litigate with you and compels you to do so. But take care not to reveal his secret in the lawsuit — for example, to bring to light the disgrace of his ancestors, who are now dead, which others did not know. For thus you will be called a betrayer of friendship and of secrets, and the friend you have injured, along with all others, will not cease to reproach you for this crime of betrayal.
Third, Vatablus says, as if to say: The cause and lawsuit you have with another, conduct not before a judge, but before a friend, so that he as a friend and in secret, acting as an arbiter, may decide or settle the dispute. For if you bring the case to court, you will expose yourself to the talk, judgments, and witticisms of all, and will incur the dangers of defamation, expenses, and other losses that lawsuits usually bring in their wake.
Fourth, Hugh, Arboreus, and Jansenius say: It is signified that no one ought to trust himself too much in managing his own affairs and causes, but if he has a matter, especially one that is singular and difficult, he should discuss it with another — not however with just anyone, but with some friend whose faithfulness is beyond doubt, who both wishes to give good counsel and can keep a secret. For one must beware of revealing one's secret to a stranger whose integrity has not been sufficiently tested, lest what he has heard as a secret he publicly casts in your face and reproaches you for without ceasing. To this St. Thomas accedes (II-II, Question 189, Article 10, Reply 2), where he teaches that a temporal cause should be discussed with a temporal friend, and a spiritual one (such as entering religious life) with a spiritual friend.
Fifth and genuinely, this maxim pertains to the lawsuit and quarrel of the preceding verse, as if to say: If you have any cause, lawsuit, quarrel, or complaint against a friend, deal with it amicably and in secret with him, setting before him those words or deeds of his that seem injurious to you and that afflict and torment you, so that he may either give an account of them, or repair the injury by asking pardon or offering some other satisfaction, and restore the friendship. Therefore do not reveal these secret disagreements between you and your friend, these secret reproaches, these secret injuries, to a stranger (whose faithfulness is uncertain and doubtful), as imprudent and impatient persons are wont to do, who, injured by a friend, immediately complain and malign him to anyone they meet and to any outsider, narrating and amplifying the injuries done to them by him. For a stranger will easily laugh at you and insult you, and will not cease to spread the same abroad, or even to cast it in your face. This is what Christ decreed in Matthew 18:15, saying: "If your brother sins against you, go and reprove him between you and him alone; if he hears you, you have gained your brother." So says Bede.
That this is the sense is clear from the Hebrew, which has: "Your lawsuit, litigate it" (the Chaldean: "judge it") "with your friend, and do not reveal a secret to another; lest he reproach you, and your infamy not return" — that is, not depart. The Chaldean:
"lest he reproach you when he has heard, and pervert your reputation." The Syriac: "and many will judge you," that is, censure and condemn you. And from the Septuagint, which in the Roman and Complutensian editions is tangled and obscure, but is rendered clearly by the Author of the Greek Catena as follows: "If ever your friend has insulted you, dissimulate and withdraw. And do not on that account despise him, lest he assail you with reproaches, and from this a quarrel and enmity arise that does not easily depart, but long and greatly harasses you like death." As if to say: If a quarrel falls upon you with a friend, and you see him, inflamed with anger, bringing forth words full of indignation that he may pour out upon you, prudently depart and withdraw until his anger cools down. Once that is done, calmly and reasonably discuss your cause with him. For if you resist one who is raging, you too will begin to rage, and will further inflame his fury, whence it will happen that many reproaches are hurled from both sides, which will defame both parties before those who hear, and the infamy once contracted can never afterwards be erased.
To this belongs the symbol of Pythagoras: "Do not place food in a rotten vessel" — that is, do not entrust a secret to the dishonest and the garrulous.
Note: For the words "the quarrel and enmity, etc., that harasses you like death," the Roman and Complutensian editions translate: "your quarrel and enmity shall not depart, but shall be equal to death for you." First, because it will last until death: for a friend injured by a friend through insult, revelation of secrets, and a treacherous blow is irreconcilable, as Ecclesiasticus 22:27 says. Second, because enmity destroys friendship, which is as it were the life of friends; for the lover lives in the beloved, and the friend in the friend: for the soul is more where it loves than where it animates. "As is told of Orestes and Pylades, if it is not fiction, who wished to die for each other or together, because it was worse to them than death not to live together," says St. Augustine, Confessions Book IV, chapter 5. Friendship therefore is the life of friends, and enmity their death. Third, because perpetual enmities and quarrels, especially between those who were formerly friends, are most burdensome, so that a man would rather die than live in perpetual lawsuits and quarrels — and at the same time most dangerous, not rarely ending in mutual slaughter. Wherefore Moses, or rather God, thus decrees for the Jews in Leviticus 19:17: "Do not hate your brother in your heart, but reprove him publicly, lest you bear sin on his account. Do not seek revenge, nor be mindful of the injury of your fellow citizens."
GRACE AND FRIENDSHIP SET FREE; PRESERVE THEM FOR YOURSELF, LEST YOU BECOME LIABLE TO REPROACH.
For "liberant" (set free) the Greek is ἐλευθεροῖ, that is, they grant liberty, they free from servitude, they make one free, freeborn, generous, noble. This verse is not in the Hebrew, and so it is attached to the preceding verse under the same number. But it is transcribed from the Septuagint, where it reads: "Grace and friendship produce liberty; preserve them for yourself, lest you become liable to reproach, and guard your ways εὐσυναλλάκτως," that is, in a conciliatory, peaceful, benevolent, composed manner. For εὐσυνάλλακτος means one who is generous, gentle, easy, composed, kind, benevolent — one who by his benevolence and composure of manners wins and reconciles everyone to himself.
Solomon had said that one should not litigate with a friend, but that his injury should either be dissimulated, or dealt with secretly and amicably, so that the friendship may not be dissolved, but may more strongly coalesce and be restored. Now he adds the reason: that grace and friendship are a most noble virtue and gift, which makes a man free, generous, and noble, so that the wise man prefers to preserve it and endure some injury from a friend rather than break the friendship and pursue or avenge the injury through a lawsuit. For this is the mark of a generous and noble spirit, which begets another kind of liberty — the liberty by which a person is freed from fear, dangers, quarrels, and a thousand other evils that usually follow from enmity.
Whence Jansenius explains it thus: It is signified, he says, that grace and friendship — that is, the favor and benevolence of God and men — make a person free and freeborn, so that with no servile fear he does not dread evil for himself, but through the grace and friendship of God and men he is secure, and lives with a free spirit, and is often delivered from many evils through them. Therefore one ought rightly to take care that they be guarded and strengthened, lest he who was formerly well fortified by the grace and friendship of others, having lost them, become liable to reproach. Likewise each person should guard all his ways and actions, so that people may easily deal with him, and he should not be hard and obstinate, but should always show himself easy and peaceable, so that even if some controversy arises, he readily admits reconciliation, lest a broken friendship afterwards not easily be mended.
Whence the Septuagint adds: "Guard your ways εὐσυναλλάκτως," that is, in a composed and conciliatory manner, as if to say: So compose your manners that you may win the favor of all, and day by day acquire new friends who may love, protect, and advance you. In this we should imitate vines. For vines, says Plutarch in his book On Distinguishing the Flatterer from the Friend, "spreading their shoots and embracing with their tendrils whatever bushes are near, grow more luxuriantly. Thus to join many to oneself through friendship is most fortunate." Hence Epaminondas, as Aelian reports in his Miscellaneous History, used to say: "One should not leave the forum during the day before adding some new friend to the old ones." And they say Scipio Africanus used to do the same. When Socrates asked Croesus what great thing he had gained from his kingdom, and Croesus answered: "That I might take vengeance on my enemies and bestow benefits on my friends," Socrates replied: "You would have done much better if you had also won those enemies over as friends." So says Maximus, Sermon 6. Thus, while Pompey held that enemies should be subdued by the sword and friends cultivated with favor, Julius Caesar more wisely held that both should be won over by benefits. For it is a greater and better thing to make a friend out of an enemy than to destroy and take vengeance on him.
Moreover, St. Bernard excellently explains the term εὐσυναλλάκτως, that is "in a conciliatory manner," in Sermon 2 on the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul: "I think," he says, "that you who are in a community live well if you live in an orderly, sociable, and humble manner. In an orderly way toward yourself, in a sociable way toward your neighbor, in a humble way toward God. In an orderly way: that in all your conduct you be careful to guard your ways, both in the sight of the Lord and in the sight of your neighbor, guarding yourself from sin and your neighbor from scandal. In a sociable way: that you strive to be loved and to love, to show yourself gentle and affable, to bear not only patiently but willingly the infirmities of your brothers, whether of character or of body. In a humble way: that when you have done all these things, you endeavor to blow out the spirit of vanity that tends to arise from such things, and however much you may feel it, to deny it your consent altogether."
11. GOLDEN APPLES IN BEDS OF SILVER
A WORD SPOKEN IN ITS PROPER TIME.
Our Vulgate seems to have read: "a word spoken on its wheels," that is, a word adorned with certain fitting rhetorical modes and colors, by which, as if by wheels, it is carried into the ears of the hearers.
Hence mystically Bede says: "The words of the preacher, aptly composed to match the understanding of the hearers, are apples, because they have sprung from the tree of life, that is, from the wisdom of God. They are golden, because they pour charity into the mind. They are also compared to beds, because they provide rest to the souls of the hearers. They are silver, because they shine with the splendor of truth. Therefore whoever adds golden apples to the adornment of silver beds — that is, whoever at the opportune time adds divine utterances full of spiritual meanings and mysteries, by which the soul is sweetly nourished and enkindled, to the simpler and more rudimentary teachings by whose keeping both peace of soul is provided here, and eternal rest is attained."
Less elegantly, others take "golden apples" as the golden feet of beds, which Clement of Alexandria in the Paidagogos calls χρυσοτεύκτους, that is, resting on gold, namely supported on golden feet — as if to say: Just as the turned golden feet of beds, being round so as to appear like golden apples, both adorn and support the banquet couches, so also does a word spoken in its proper time. Less aptly, I say, both because the golden apples are said to be in the beds, not the beds to rest on the golden apples; and because the opportune time is said rather to adorn the wise word, than to be adorned by it.
Second, according to the Hebrew text, very fittingly a word spoken opportunely is compared to golden apples placed במשכיות bemaskioth, that is, in carvings, engravings, or latticework of silver — which are enclosed in silver cases, but latticed, so that through the openings of the lattice the golden apple within may be seen. For the root שכה sacha means to look at and gaze upon things that are concealed, painted, figured, and skillfully wrought. Whence Symmachus translates: "in transparent cases." Perhaps our Vulgate calls these cases "beds" by a Hebraism, because just as a person rests in a bed, so the golden apples rest in their case.
Now if gold was to be adorned with another precious metal, none was more suitable than silver. "Thus," says Jansenius, "a word wisely and opportunely spoken is compared to golden apples placed in carvings of silver, as if in beds and repositories. For what greater variety, greater splendor, and greater pleasure for the eyes could be exhibited than the sight of a golden apple placed in silver latticework?" Indeed in Esther 1:6 we read of golden and silver couches, which here we assert are the golden apples in silver carvings.
The sense therefore, says Jansenius, is: Just as golden apples attached to or hanging from silver beds greatly adorn the beds, refresh and delight, both by their variety and by the elegance of the art — so a word spoken at the opportune time greatly affects the hearers, and wonderfully adorns the one who utters it. For a prudent word, if it is not spoken at the right time, is indeed like a golden apple and of great value in itself; but if it is joined to its proper time, so as to be spoken fittingly and opportunely, it is like a golden apple set in silver beds — greatly refreshing and affecting people. For in ancient times the richest and most powerful kings had beds of gold and silver, adorned with wonderful variety, as is found in Esther chapter 1. The Hebrew has משכיות miskabot, that is, "beds." Now they read משכיות maskiot, that is, "carvings" or "lattices." Whence the Septuagint translates: "a golden apple in a necklace of carnelian." Symmachus and Theodotion: "in conspicuous things of silver." The Syriac: "a golden apple in a work of cast silver." Pagninus: "in pictures of silver." The Chaldean: "in images of silver." Cajetan: "in carvings." Others: "in engravings." Rabbi Abraham: "in hidden things, or in treasures of silver." Vatablus: "in engraved vessels of silver." Arias: "in transparent cases of silver."
Therefore in the three primary languages there is here a threefold reading and translation, and consequently a threefold sense. For the Latin, Hebrew, and Greek disagree with one another, and therefore each must be given its own explanation.
First, then, the Latin Vulgate interpreter seems to understand golden apples fashioned by a goldsmith, which are suspended from silver beds — that is, which hang from the silver and engraved canopy of the beds. For thus in Esther 1:6, King Ahasuerus, for the sake of magnificence, prepared golden and silver couches at his royal banquet, for the guests to recline on, in which golden apples could be carved or affixed for elegance, so as to feast the eyes of the diners and at the same time sharpen their appetite for food.
Third, according to the Septuagint, a word spoken opportunely is compared to a golden apple in a necklace of carnelian — or, as others read, in a carnelian pearl, which our Vulgate reads as "with a pearl" or "with a carnelian pearl" — that is, a pearl adorned with carnelian. For the sardius is a gem of red or blood-red color. Thus a timely word is like a golden apple that adorns a golden carnelian necklace, or a golden carnelian pearl — hanging from the necklace or pearl of carnelian and adorning it, in the manner of apples. For the sardius is the ruby, called by the Hebrews odem or adam, as if "Adam," because Adam's body was formed from red earth (Genesis 2). The sardius here is like the bed, and the golden apple is like the word spoken at the right time.
This maxim teaches gnomically that in every matter the most important thing is timing and its opportunity. For all things have their time, says Solomon (Ecclesiastes 3:1), and all things under heaven consist in their proper moments. Hence Pittacus called knowledge of time τὴν ἀρίστην μάθησιν, that is, "the best learning." Cato, as Plutarch reports, used to say that three things above all displeased him: first, that he had spent a day without accomplishing something good; second, that he had traveled by sea when he could have gone by land; third, that he had entrusted a secret to a woman.
But timing is of the greatest importance especially in words and discourse. For any word however wisely spoken, if it is said at the wrong time, seems inept and foolish, and thus instead of bringing praise and honor to the speaker, it brings contempt and mockery. Conversely, a word however mediocre, or even common and ordinary, if spoken at the right time, wins great praise and admiration for the speaker. Indeed arguments, comparisons, and maxims in rhetoric and philosophy are not so effective in themselves as from the opportuneness of the time at which they are spoken. Whence Solomon says (Ecclesiastes 10:10): "But after diligence wisdom will follow" — that is, after study — meaning: if you apply diligence and study to the timing, saying what people feel at the moment they feel it and it is at hand, then you will speak most fittingly and most wisely. And Sirach 20:6: "There is one who is silent because he has no sense of speech, and there is one who is silent because he knows the fitting time."
Hence Homer attributes to Nestor μέλιτος γλυκίων ὀπί, that is, "a voice sweeter than honey." Hence Pericles had the surname "Olympian," because like thunder and lightning he struck and subjugated his hearers. Demosthenes, according to Quintilian (Book X, chapter 1), had such genius that you would admire him more with each passing day.
Tropologically, the Author of the Greek Catena says: "The opportune word is golden goods stored in silver vessels" — that is, in the bodies of the Saints, which are silver. "Their Word, moreover, is Christ the Lord, who said: 'I am the way, the truth, and the life.' This excellent Word, far better and more august than all words spoken for a time, is worth more than gold and silver and every precious stone."
Moreover, in Hebrew, for maskiot (that is, carvings), St. Thomas reads "in confessions," or as others say, "in comparisons." For thus Scotus cites this passage from him in Book IV of the Sentences, Distinction 17, near the end: "Golden apples in confessions of silver — he who speaks a word in its proper time." For thus, he says, confessions and offenses spoken from the mouth of the penitent, and absolutions spoken from the mouth of the priest, are words spoken in their proper time, and they adorn the confessions like golden apples — that is, the little beds of penance that the sinner makes for himself, when by confessing he prostrates himself before the priest on the bed of penance. They are silver because this is done in the sincerity and splendor of grace, since confession, if rightly made, wins grace for the sinner, by which, once cleansed, he shines like silver. more than silver, through whose very fine openings the splendor of gold could be glimpsed, if one looked attentively; but if one looked from a greater distance, one would seem to see nothing but silver. Here applies that passage from Canticles 1:11: "We will make you golden pendants, studded with silver."
Therefore first, just as the elegance of a golden apple skillfully enclosed in silver lattices is marvelous, which remarkably delights and captivates the eyes of those who behold it: so likewise marvelous is the beauty of a weighty saying spoken at the right moment. Second, just as the value of gold wrapped in silver is great, so great is the value of a saying wisely uttered. Third, just as in a golden apple enclosed in silver lattices there is a great and harmonious variety of gold, silver, lattices, figures, carvings, etc., which wonderfully refreshes those who behold it: so likewise in the sayings of the wise there is an abundant variety of wisdom, eloquence, figures, tropes, and similitudes, and a variegated richness that feeds and refreshes the hearers. Fourth, just as the golden apple lying hidden within is veiled and adorned on the outside by silver lattices, so that the first thing to meet the viewer's eye is the appearance of latticed silver, and then, on deeper inspection, the form of the golden apple hidden within comes into view: so likewise the speech of a wise man has on the outside a beautiful phrasing, and as it were the covering of eloquence, which is compared to resonant silver, but within it contains a hidden meaning of wisdom, which corresponds to gold. This is especially seen in parables, such as these of Solomon, which on the outside display the elegant appearance of the parable in well-composed and interwoven words, but within reveal to one who probes them more deeply a hidden, namely parabolic and symbolic, meaning.
Therefore Rabbi Moses in his book More Hannebuchim, that is, the Guide of the Perplexed and Leader of the Doubting, chapter 1, as cited by Galatinus, book 1 of De Arcanis Fidei, chapter 6, translates: "like a golden apple in a lattice of silver, so is a word spoken according to its two faces," meaning: Just as a golden apple enclosed in a silver lattice has, as it were, two faces, one external, that of the silver lattice, and the other internal and hidden, that of the golden apple: so also a parable has a twofold meaning, one external and open, which is the literal; the other internal and hidden, which is the mystical, namely allegorical or anagogical, or even cabalistic. See therefore with what great artistry and with what exquisite skill a parable must be crafted, with what splendor of words so weighty a meaning must be adorned and concealed. So say Rabbi Levi, Rabbi Solomon, Aben-Ezra, Lyranus, and our Pineda, book 3 of De Rebus Salomonis, chapter 16.
There is also the Tigurine version: golden apples in woven silver vessels is a word uttered in due season; Vatablus has: golden apples in silver engravings. And he adds: "Properly the Hebrew word signifies cases in which precious stones are enclosed, yet so that they can be seen, in French, claires voies. These cases were made of silver, having openings through which those golden apples could be seen, as used by Solomon."
A timely word is like a golden apple in a silver case.
It is likely that in the time of Solomon, who abounded in gold and silver above all kings, these cases were in use for the adornment of the royal palace, the temple, and private houses; and perhaps they wore them as necklaces hanging from the neck, just as nobles today wear golden and silver medallions upon the breast, which on account of their roundness are called by some golden and silver apples. Others understand these cases as sideboards or cabinets and repositories in which Solomon's golden furnishings were stored, which were closed with silver latticed doors through whose openings the golden furnishings could be seen.
Cajetan translates: golden apples in silver drops, a word ordered upon its wheels of gold, and explains it thus, meaning: Just as if some craftsman were to fashion a small tree or silver bush cut with various intersections like branches, producing golden apples, he would present to the eyes of the beholders not only a precious but also an artistic and beautiful spectacle: so likewise he who orders his words upon their wheels wins the favor of his hearers; for a speech ordered upon its wheels is both precious and beautiful and admirable, that is, ordered upon its commonplaces, upon its rhetorical colors, upon elegant and harmonious phrases and modes of speech. For these are the wheels of discourse, by which the speech is carried to persuade and instruct the hearer. So says Cajetan.
Third, the Septuagint translates in Greek: like golden apples in a necklace of sardius, or, as the author of the Catena of the Greeks reads: what the golden apple is to the sardian necklace, that is what a timely word is to its author. Some explain this by hypallage, meaning: What the sardian necklace is to the golden apple, that is what a timely word is to its author. For the sardius is a precious stone that is usually attached as a gem in the settings of golden rings, or as a pendant in golden collars and chains, and hangs upon the breast. For the sardius matches the golden color, since it is red like gold; hence a similar phrase is added in the Septuagint: What the sardius inserted in a golden earring is, that is what a wise word is to an obedient ear. Similarly Ecclesiasticus says in chapter 32, verse 7: "A carbuncle set in a work of gold, and so is a concert of music at a banquet of wine. As in the making of gold a seal of emerald is set, so is the melody of music with pleasant wine."
Mystically, the author of the Catena of the Greeks says: Just as the golden apple suits the sardius, so the knowledge of God suits a chaste and pure soul. For by gold is signified knowledge, and by the sardius virtuous action.
I wonder whether in the Septuagint instead of sardion one should not read argyriou, that is, of silver. For so the Hebrew, Chaldean, and Latin texts read, as well as the Syriac which usually follows the Septuagint. Then the meaning would be fitting, namely: Just as a golden apple inserted in a silver ring like a shovel, or hung from a silver chain like a pendant, adorns and embellishes it: so likewise timeliness adorns a word, if indeed it is uttered at the right place and time.
Hence the Syriac translates: like a golden apple in a work of cast silver. Which you may again explain thus, meaning: Just as a golden apple placed on a bowl or dish engraved in silver appears more beautiful and splendid, so likewise a wise word uttered at the right time acquires a certain new beauty and appears more beautiful than it would on its own. Here the Vulgate reading could also be invoked: for a silver bowl or dish can by Hebrew metaphor be called a bed, because in it, as in a bed, the golden apple is beautifully placed and rests. This meaning is very plain and obvious, for it was customary to present golden apples, both crafted and natural, on silver dishes and to offer them to guests at banquets.
A WORD SPOKEN IN ITS TIME.
In Hebrew: beophnau, that is, spoken upon its wheels. But what do wheels have to do with words and with silver beds? The answer is that there is an allusion to the wheeled beds of the ancients, such as we still see in the houses of nobles and princes, which can easily be moved and rolled from one hall to another, from one dining room to another, by means of wheels placed beneath them. For a square bed has the appearance of a carriage, to which wheels can be and usually are attached underneath. In former times it was customary, and still is among princes, for these to be covered with silver plates or covered and adorned with a lid engraved in silver; while above, at the four corners of the bed, on four small columns, there stood round capitals of gold in the shape of apples, which are therefore here called golden apples, and which thus appeared to rest upon and be carried by the silver bed and wheels. Likewise golden apples used to be hung from the canopy, or ceiling, of the silver bed.
The meaning therefore is this: Just as golden apples resting upon and, as it were, carried by a silver bed and wheels, display to the beholders great value as well as beauty: so likewise a word spoken in its wheels, that is, in its circumstances, circumspectly, fittingly and opportunely, displays to the hearers great adornment and fruit. This is especially evident in the word of God, which speaks interiorly to the soul to lead it from sin to justice, or from lesser justice and holiness to greater. For if these things are said suitably and at the opportune time, they convert and sanctify the soul. For this is efficacious and congruous grace, that is, grace given at a congruous time, with a congruous disposition of the hearer to receive it and obey it.
Moreover, words spoken opportunely are rightly said to be spoken upon their wheels. First, because like wheels they are rounded and aptly composed, so that nothing in them is rough, nothing harsh, nothing broken. Thus Cicero, in De Claris Oratoribus, says: "The fitting and, as it were, rounded connection of words;" and in De Oratore: "Thucydides, however, is rather rugged, and not, so to speak, rounded." And Juvenal: Or may he hurl a curtailed enthymeme in rounded speech.
And Horace: To the Greeks the Muse granted speech with rounded mouth.
Second, because like wheels they smoothly roll and turn into the soul of the hearer. Third, because like wheels they never leave the track, but roll in their ruts smoothly, safely, and swiftly. Fourth, because like wheels they gently and pleasantly carry both the words and the meaning of the words to the ears and mind of the hearers. Fifth, because just as a wheel is fitted and matched to its track, so also a word must be fitted and matched to the time and occasion.
A word spoken upon its wheels is therefore a word that is harmonious, well-composed, and fitted to the time. Hence the Hebrews by ophan, that is, wheel, metaphorically signify circumstance, manner, occasion, suitability. The metaphor is from chariot-driving; for what the charioteer is in the chariot, that is what the mind is in speech: for the mind is the charioteer of the tongue and of speech. Therefore timeliness, or the opportune time — that is, if a word is spoken in a fitting manner, place, time, etc. — is like a wheel that carries the word like a golden apple and plants it in the mind of the hearer; for if the same word is spoken at a different and inopportune time, it will not be grasped by the hearer; indeed it will be rejected and spurned, as experience shows. Hence those who try to persuade another of something seize upon favorable occasions and the soft moments for speaking.
Therefore for "a word spoken upon its wheels," that is, in its time, others translate: spoken in its revolution; Baynus: in its circumference; Pagninus: in its modes; others: in its circumstances; the Chaldean and Vatablus: a word spoken opportunely; Symmachus and the Vulgate: in its time; Rabbi Solomon: a discourse pronounced upon its foundation, that is, rightly established and fixed; Aben-Ezra and Rabbi Moses, however, translate: spoken according to its faces, or according to both its faces; for they consider the aleph in aphnau not to be radical but prosthetic and adventitious, as it is in asmura, that is, guard, from the root shamar, that is, he guarded. Consequently they hold that aphnau is radically the same as panau, that is, its faces, or according to both its faces, so as to be a dual form.
Now a word spoken according to its faces Rabbi Moses explains as one spoken according to the literal and mystical sense, that is, spoken circumspectly, one which, before it is uttered, looks about and considers all the circumstances and conditions of place, time, and persons, so that it puts itself forth and utters itself only at the opportune time, as our translator renders it.
From what has been said it is clear that the golden apples are not natural, real, and living ones, such as citrons, oranges, and quinces, but artificial ones, namely those fashioned by a goldsmith from gold — this is the understanding of the Interpreters generally here. Our Salazar, however, more elegantly and more pleasingly understands the golden apples as real ones, namely quinces, which by their fragrance, like roses and other flowers, refresh guests and resist drunkenness, and for this reason, together with flowers, they used to be scattered upon the couches and tables of guests, as Athenaeus teaches, book 3: "They sent many quince apples to the king's couch, and many myrtle leaves, and elegant garlands of roses and violets," so that the meaning is: Just as golden apples, that is, quinces or honey-apples, sent to the silver, that is, dining and banqueting, couches, to entertain the guests, ward off drunkenness: so also a word spoken in its time, or with its wheels, namely some obscure problem opportunely thrown into conversation at a banquet, wonderfully counteracts the drunkenness of the guests, or rather prevents it altogether; for lest their minds be made unfit for discussing it by heads dulled with wine, everyone drinks temperately. emerald vessels; others translate it as: a diadem or golden crown; others, like our translator, as: a shining pearl; others as: a golden prayer-ornament, a propitiatory ornament, that is, a necklace pleasing to all and attracting and appeasing everyone. Again, for "the wise man" it can be translated from the Hebrew with Cajetan as "wise" in the nominative, so that the wise man who reproves is here compared to a golden earring and a shining pearl. Moreover, the ancient Interpreters vary here: for the Septuagint translates one way, the Chaldean another, our translator yet another. Therefore the threefold translation here likewise demands a threefold meaning.
First, the Septuagint and from them the Syriac translate: what the precious sardius tied to or inserted in the earring is to the ear, that a wise word sent into an obedient ear is to the hearer. So says the author of the Catena of the Greeks, where the reprover and the reproof, or the wise word, is compared to the sardius; but the one reproved and instructed, who obeys the word, is compared to the golden earring, meaning: Just as the sardius is fittingly joined with the golden earring and adorns it, so likewise the wise monitor and his admonition are fittingly joined with the obedient ear and wonderfully adorn it. To this meaning Bede accommodates the Latin Vulgate: "Rightly," he says, "is the humble hearer compared to a golden earring, who, by willingly lending his ear to one who rebukes and reproves, now prepares himself to receive the brightness of heavenly wisdom, now draws near to the vision of the light above." Then he adds concerning the teacher: "Rightly is the learned teacher likened to a shining pearl, because when he shows to souls desiring and devoutly seeking the correction of morals and the knowledge of heavenly things, he attaches, as it were, to a golden ornament an even greater and more pleasing radiance of a glowing gem."
Here belongs Cajetan's version: A golden earring and a necklace of fine gold, the wise reprover above the obedient ear, meaning: Reproof and discipline adorn both the one reproving and the one reproved, both the teacher and the docile student: for the latter, who receives it with his ear, serves as the golden earring; while the former, who utters it with his mouth, serves as the golden necklace and torque.
Second, the Chaldean translates: a golden earring and emerald vessels, a wise reproof in an obedient ear. By emerald vessels some understand precious cups of emerald, which the rich and noble used at banquets, and with which they drank to each other with wishes of good health, meaning: Just as the master of ceremonies, or the host and steward of the feast, offers the guests a precious cup, for example one adorned with emeralds, containing excellent but strong and bitter wine (hence the Italian proverb: May bitter wine be dear to you; so also with the vicious); and the guest receives and drains this cup eagerly as a symbol of love and a wholesome draught, with a similar wish for good health: so too the wise teacher offers his disciple the bitter medicine of discipline and correction, to cut away his vices, like a cup of bitter but precious and health-giving wine, which therefore the disciple ought to receive and drain with love and eagerness. Yet any emerald vessels may be understood here; for the emerald, both in value and in its green color, shines out brilliantly among gems and wonderfully refreshes the eyes of all. See what was said at Apocalypse 21:19, where I noted that the verdant emerald is a sign of virginity and an amulet against poisons: so too reproof guards the virginity of the soul and is an amulet against all vices.
Third, our translator most excellently renders from the Hebrew: a golden earring and a shining pearl is he who reproves a wise man and an obedient ear; and the Tigurine version: a golden torque and a golden necklace is the rebuke of a wise man to an obedient ear. Thus he compared discipline to a golden torque at chapter 1, verse 9. The meaning therefore is: A severe but timely and friendly correction, which a wise man applies opportunely to one who listens and therefore obeys, is not a cheap and shameful thing, but something noble, precious, and most beautiful, like a golden earring and a shining pearl, which therefore is a great ornament to both the reprover and the reproved, as well as a source of salvation.
Hence Pagninus clearly translates: as a golden earring and an ornament of fine gold is he who reproves a wise man who has an obedient ear. Our translator instead of "ornament of fine gold" more aptly renders "shining pearl," because the golden earring was properly a ring-shaped circlet of inserted gold, from which hung a splendid pearl as a pendant, as Saint Jerome teaches in his commentary on Ezekiel 16, and from him our Pineda in his commentary on Job chapter 42, verse 11, number 12.
for those with diseased spleens, sharp and bitter things are beneficial, while sweet things are harmful, for what is bitter strengthens and tightens the stomach, which sweet wine relaxes and loosens); but the guest receives and drains this cup eagerly as a symbol of love and a wholesome draught, with a similar wish of good health: so too the wise teacher offers his disciple the bitter medicine of discipline and correction, to cut away his vices, like a cup of bitter but precious and health-giving wine, which the disciple therefore ought to receive and drain with love and eagerness.
Furthermore, the severe monitor, or rather the severe admonition and correction, is rightly compared to a golden earring and a shining pearl. First, because just as a golden earring is precious and does not disgrace but adorns and beautifies the ear — hence the earring was formerly a mark of nobility, as Rhodiginus teaches from Plato and Apuleius, book 3, chapter 25 — so likewise correction is precious and does not bring disgrace but adorns and ennobles the one who hears and obeys it; for it is greatly to one's praise that one obeys the reprover. For this is a sign of great humility and obedience, as well as of prudence.
Second, just as an earring pierces and perforates the ear with pain, and then firmly adheres to the ear, and by constantly tugging stimulates it and adorns it like a pendant: so likewise a sharp correction strikes and pierces the ear and mind, indeed the innermost depths of the listener's mind, and then firmly clings to it; for the one corrected, stung by this goad, comes to his senses and steadfastly retains the correction, and does not let it slip from him. Therefore, just as for those who have dull and obtuse ears and hearing an earring is attached, so that its pricking may arouse and sharpen the dulled faculty of hearing: so for those who are headstrong and stiff-necked, a sharp correction is applied, which may humble their neck and make them obedient to the law.
Truly Plutarch says in the Moralia: "Remedies at first bite or offend, but afterward they bring health and pleasure. So wholesome admonitions are at first somewhat bitter, but afterward most pleasant to the one corrected."
Third, in ancient times on earrings, as also on rings, they would engrave the name of their God, or of the thing most loved: so likewise this correction is received by the wise man as a thing most useful, salutary, and beloved, indeed divine and flowing from God. This is what God says through Hosea, chapter 2, verse 13: "And I will visit upon her the days of the Baals, when she burned incense to them, and adorned herself with her earring and her necklace." For God engraved upon the earring seemed to the wearer to be always standing beside his ear, whispering in his ear and perpetually reminding him of His worship. Hence Jacob, when burying the idols of his household, buried the earrings along with them, Genesis 35:4. Hence also Gideon made an ephod from the earrings, which the Hebrews afterward worshiped as an idol, Judges 8:24. And Aaron melted down the earrings into the golden calf, Exodus 32:2 and 4. Rabbi Abraham adds that the Hebrews were accustomed to engrave on their earrings whatever they wished always to keep in memory and mind. Therefore correction is compared to an earring, because the reprover gives it to the one corrected so that he may always remember it and according to it correct his morals and order his life, and in like manner the one who kindly receives the correction and obeys it accepts it.
Fourth, to the golden earring a shining pearl is usually attached, which wonderfully adorns the ear as well as the earring, and both are indeed precious but of slight weight: for anyone who would want to attach some very heavy mass of gold to the ears would by no means adorn them, but rather burden them and tear them apart in an ugly fashion.
Let correction be like this, not of slight value, but nevertheless of slight weight, that is, let it be prudent and heartfelt, yet gentle and mild, lest by the heavy weight of anger or sadness it press down, depress, or oppress the spirit of the one corrected. See the twelve qualities of pearls enumerated at Apocalypse 21:21, which can easily be applied to correction and the reprover.
Plutarch says admirably in the Moralia: "Just as a physician, when he has cut the flesh, does not immediately abandon the one he has cut, but irrigates and soothes the wound: so he who has rebuked too sharply must soothe that distress by the rest of his conduct in life." Again: "A medicine not applied in the right place causes pain without benefit: so too a rebuke not properly administered. And a friend causes with distress the same result that a flatterer causes with pleasure. For both injure." Again: "As the wound of Telephus was healed by the same spear that inflicted the wound, so the wound of rebuke will be healed by the same person who made it." Another: "As cold both causes and cures chilblains, and fire heals burns: so the speech of a rebuking friend heals the very pain it causes."
Fifth, the earring is a symbol of discipline and obedience, because just as the earring is inserted into the ear, so also the word of discipline is driven into the ear and mind. Hence of Christ it is said, Psalm 39:7: "Sacrifice and offering You did not desire; but ears You have fashioned for me," in Hebrew: You have pierced for me, that is, with the awl of servitude, by which You hung the earring of obedience on my ears and inserted it into my mind. Hence "then I said: Behold, I come: in the head of the book it is written of me, that I should do Your will, O my God, I desired it, and Your law is in the midst of my heart." These words the Apostle cites at Hebrews 10:5. See what was said there. Hence also that saying of Christ, obedient to the Father even unto death on the cross: "The Lord God has opened my ear; and I do not resist, I have not turned back. I have given my body to those who strike me, and my cheeks to those who pluck them: I have not turned my face away from those who rebuke me and spit upon me," Isaiah 50:5.
Finally, the earring was a symbol of reconciliation and peace; hence the friends of Job, who had often wrongly reproved him in their disputes, bringing repentance, each brought him a golden earring as a sign of reconciliation, Job chapter 42, verse 11. Hence also Plautus in the Epidicus: "Do you not remember," he says, "that I brought you a golden earring on your birthday?" Where the commentator notes: Those who had in some way offended their friends during the year used to appease them on their birthday with the gift of earrings, so that, forgetting the injuries, they might be restored to friendship. Correction therefore, which is given by the reprover like a golden earring and received by the one corrected, signifies that it is given by the reprover in a friendly and peaceful spirit and received by the one corrected, so that if any injury or animosity had previously come between the two, this is now obliterated through the correction, and the former friendship is restored; for through correction the ear, indeed the mouth and mind of the reprover, is joined, united, and bound to the ear and mind of the one corrected.
Similar to this proverb are the sayings of the wise found in Maximus, sermon 31. Hermes: "Reproof, if it is acknowledged, O Emperor, leads the one reproved to a desire for things he did not know before." Isocrates: "Just as honey stings wounds, but is sweet to those in good health: so also is the discourse of philosophers." Aristonymus: "He who removes from discourse the freedom to reprove does the same as if he were to remove bitterness from wormwood." Phocion: "Neither the sun from the world, nor freedom of speech from human intercourse, should be removed." Anonymous: "As hellebore, if you take too little, does more harm, because it clings to the viscera and infects the body; but if you take a larger dose, it will benefit, for it will break through more freely: so a friend should not be rebuked except with such vehemence as will free his soul from vice. For a milder remonstrance saddens a friend without any fruit." Plutarch in the Moralia: "Physicians sprinkle a little sugar on bitter medicines, to entice the sick to take them: so parents ought to mitigate the harshness of rebuke with gentleness." Again: "Let correction be like this."
13. AS THE COLD OF SNOW IN THE DAY OF HARVEST, SO IS A FAITHFUL MESSENGER TO HIM WHO SENT HIM, FOR HE REFRESHES THE SOUL OF HIS MASTER.
In Hebrew: he causes the soul of his master to return; the Septuagint: as the eruption of snow at harvest time extinguishes the heat, and is welcome to those laboring in the heat: so is a faithful messenger to those who sent him, for he refreshes and revives the spirits of those who employed him. So says the author of the Catena of the Greeks. The Syriac: as when snow falls at harvest time and cools the heat, so the messenger, etc., restores the soul of his master; the Chaldean: he refreshes the spirit of his master; Aben-Ezra: he restores it, saying: "As if the master's soul had been joined to the departing messenger, and at his return had been brought back into the master's body, because the messenger showed himself faithful." Rabbi Levi says: Just as cold coming from snow is most pleasant in summertime and preserves the vital heat, lest it vanish from the excessive heat of the air, which at that season is immoderate, and drives it back to the innermost depths of the body: so a faithful messenger delights the one who sent him, and restores his spirit and gives him life, when he has duly fulfilled his wishes and duly discharged the business of the embassy. So says he.
You may ask, what is the cold of snow in the day of harvest? Since in summer and at harvest there is no snow but the greatest heat, unless God works a miracle, such as the Blessed Virgin worked at Rome under Pope Liberius, when she designated and outlined the site for the basilica of Saint Mary Major on the Esquiline Hill by sending snow from heaven on August 5, when in the City the heat is at its greatest.
The answer is: first, that snow is collected by the wealthy in winter so that in summer they may put it in their cups and goblets, and thus drink their wine cold; indeed some mix snow with wine to drink it cooler, although physicians disapprove of this as harmful to health and natural warmth. See Francisco Valles, De Sacra Philosophia, chapter 61. But these are the luxuries of a few wealthy people, which have nothing to do with the harvest and with poor harvesters. Second, the north wind especially, passing over mountains and Alps covered with snow even in summer, gathers cold from the snows and carries it to the valleys below and the harvesters in the fields, and wonderfully cools them, as we experience in Rome, which is surrounded by mountains. Hence the text pointedly says "the cold of snow," that is, cold gathered from snow by the wind, not the snow itself. Third, the snow itself, when it is abundant, sometimes rolls down from snowy mountains to the plains below them, and there refreshes the harvesters and quenches the heat.
The meaning therefore is: Just as cold breathed from a snowy wind or from the snow itself mitigates the heat for harvesters burning and sweating in the heat, and wonderfully refreshes and revives them, cooling the fires of the sun, wiping away the sweat of their labors, and tempering their burning breath: so likewise a faithful messenger causes the soul of his master, who sent him, burning with anxiety and cares, to rest from this fever of worries, and cools and consoles it. For just as such cold, greatly desired and awaited, refreshes and restores the spirits and bodies of those laboring and burning with heat: so also such a messenger, returning after faithfully completing his task, by his good news refreshes and restores the soul of his sender, longing and panting with desire, and renders it calm and peaceful; or, as the Hebrew has it, he will restore his soul, which had, as it were, collapsed and become faint with impatience at the delay.
This proverb therefore admonishes messengers of their duty, to consider with how great a longing those who sent them remain in suspense meanwhile, until they complete the task enjoined upon them, and how great a refreshment and consolation a faithfully discharged mission brings to them. So say Jansenius, Baynus, and others.
Note: The soul is called by most natural philosophers the very act of breathing, or the spirit that is drawn in by breathing; and Diogenes, as those who wrote about his doctrines report, held that the essence of the soul consists in that air. But however the natural philosopher may think about the essence of the soul, since life is preserved by breathing, he calls breathing itself the soul, and the ease or tranquility of this breathing he calls the soul's rest. Therefore to make the soul rest is, for the natural philosophers, to make breathing easy; and this is accomplished by extinguishing fiery heat and tempering the person.
Fittingly is anxiety compared to heat, and the cold of snow to a faithful messenger: first, because just as heat burns and torments the body, so anxiety burns and torments the soul; but the faithful messenger, like snow and a snowy breeze, soothes and quiets this burning and torment, both because the anxious and worried soul of the master rests in the messenger's faithfulness, and because he actually experiences through the messenger that his affairs, full of cares, are being faithfully and successfully managed and dispatched. Again, just as cold is most greatly desired in the heat, so is a faithful messenger in difficult and perplexing affairs. Second, because just as the wind is swift and swiftly brings the cold of the snows to the harvesters, so also a faithful messenger swiftly resolves his master's perplexing affairs, and relieves him of anxiety and gives him peace, so that he may calmly rest in the messenger's faithfulness. Third, just as sweating harvesters need great refreshment — for to quench their heat, rain is not enough, nor a gentle breeze, but a snowy north wind is required, which with wintry chill penetrates and pervades their inmost being. Hence the Hebrew word tsinna means a sharp cold, which like a spear or dart penetrates to the inmost parts. So likewise, to relieve the master's anxious cares, just any servant or messenger is not enough, but a skilled and faithful envoy is required, in whose faithfulness and bosom he may resign and lay down all the heat of his cares.
Aben-Ezra translates tsinna as shield, because the harvester defends himself against the heat with snow as with a shield: so too the master defends himself against the cares and anxieties of business with the faithfulness of his envoy as with a shield.
Fourth, just as the cold of snow at harvest time refreshes men burdened by heat and harvesters panting from reaping all the more because it comes as something rare, new, and unexpected: so likewise a faithful messenger is rare, and sometimes by his diligence anticipates and exceeds the expectation of the master who sent him, and thereby all the more gladdens and cheers him.
Such a messenger was Moses, sent by God to deliver the Hebrews from Egypt; for he faithfully accomplished this, and thus wonderfully refreshed both God and the Hebrews. Likewise Joshua, who was sent by God and Moses to lead the Hebrews into the Promised Land and faithfully accomplished this by waging war. Such also was Caleb, who was sent by Moses with Joshua to explore the Holy Land; when the other scouts said it was impregnable, he showed that with God's help it could easily be conquered, and therefore these two alone entered it, Numbers 13:31. In our age such a messenger was Thomas More, who as ambassador was often sent by Henry VIII to France, Flanders, and finally to Cambrai, where with wonderful skill he brought about and established peace among the greatest monarchs of the Christian world, to the great joy and benefit of Henry and of all classes. Hence, made Chancellor of England by Henry, he was a favorite of his, until, resisting his lust, he was put to death by the same king and died a glorious martyrdom.
Mystically, such a messenger to God the Father was Christ, who, sent by Him for the redemption and salvation of mankind, faithfully accomplishing this, supremely gladdened God, the angels, and mankind. Such also was the Archangel Gabriel announcing, indeed bringing, to the Blessed Virgin the incarnation of Christ. Such also were the Apostles sent by Christ for the conversion of the Gentiles. Hence Bede says: "The faithful messenger is the Catholic teacher; He who sends him is the Lord. The day of harvest in the heat is the time of preaching amid the passions of persecutors, of which it was said: The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few. The cold of snow at harvest is some small respite for the preachers from the resistance of their opponents. Rightly therefore it is said: As the cold of snow in the day of harvest, etc., because just as it is desirable for preachers of the word when they receive some relief from the fury of unbelievers and the faculty of teaching is not denied: so it is clearly pleasing to the Lord who sent them to preach, when they faithfully complete the mission He entrusted to them even amid the opposition of adversaries."
14. CLOUDS, AND WIND, AND RAIN THAT DOES NOT FOLLOW: A BOASTFUL MAN AND PROMISES NOT FULFILLED.
In Hebrew: vapors, and wind, and no rain, a man boasting of a false gift; the Chaldean: to a day of clouds and wind in which there is no rain is like a man who boasts of a false gift; Vatablus: who promises magnificently but deceives in the performance; the Septuagint: as winds, and clouds, and very clear rains, so is he who boasts of a lying gift; Symmachus: of an unjust gift.
These three things, namely clouds, wind, and rain that does not follow, can be combined in three ways; hence a threefold comparison results, and consequently a threefold meaning.
First, plainly, meaning: Just as when clouds arise and a rain-bearing wind, such as the south wind, blows, they portend and as it were promise rain, and yet sometimes no rain follows: so is a boastful man who promises many things and yet does not fulfill them. So say the Chaldean, Vatablus, Pagninus, and others generally.
Second, thus: Just as when clouds thicken, it is a sign of rain, but yet if a strong wind arises (such as the north wind), it scatters and disperses the clouds so that no rain follows: so, etc.
Third, so that "not following" refers to the clouds and wind as well as to the rains, meaning, as Cajetan says: Just as sometimes clouds seem about to arise, wind about to blow, and rain about to fall, and yet none of these arises or follows: so is he who promises much and delivers little. This seems to be what the Septuagint intended when it translates: as winds, and clouds, and most clear rains, or, as the Vatican manuscript reads, most clear, so that it refers to all three; most clear, that is, transparent and thin, because they are slight and meager, meaning: Just as very clear winds are those that make the air serene and put the clouds to flight; and as very clear clouds are thin, transparent, and slight, which are scattered by a light breeze and wind; and as very clear rains are rare, thin, and scanty, so that they do not bring the proper supply of water needed to irrigate the earth: so is he who magnificently promises to everyone. For he cannot fulfill all those promises to everyone; and so he must break faith and deliver what he promised to few or to none.
According to the first combination, which seems plainer and more obvious, the meaning is: Just as barren and empty clouds and wind, by the hope of rain they gave, deceive people when rain does not follow, especially when it is eagerly desired for relief from the heat and the fertility of the earth, and thus cause people greater sadness and trouble afterward: so also he who promises much and then does not deliver, by frustrating people's expectations, causes them a twofold annoyance, both because he made them wait and because he did not satisfy the expectation he gave. Fittingly, a boastful man in his words and promises is compared to clouds and wind, because clouds are lofty things, and wind seems the emptiest and most worthless and unstable of things, to signify the man's pride and windy emptiness and inconstancy.
Again, just as days on which dark clouds cover the sun and harsh winds resound with a roar upon the earth, which promise rain yet do not deliver it, are dark, sad, melancholy, and very troublesome: so likewise he who makes grand boasts and promises but shows little in reality is burdensome, troublesome, hated, and detested by all. Such are the arrogant, the showy, and the boastful. The reason is that pride and boasting make them grandiloquent, so that they promise enormous things beyond their ability, which they then neither wish nor are able to fulfill. Hence everything that has much show has little substance and truth; and what has much pomp gives little usefulness and fruit: for the whole thing is consumed in display, just as trees and vines that display a luxury of foliage produce little in the way of grapes and wine, because all their sap goes into leaves. This is precisely how the matter stands here.
According to the second combination, a new cause is given for why someone does not fulfill his promises, namely lightness and inconstancy of spirit: for this is what the north wind represents, meaning: Just as the north wind scatters the clouds heavy with moisture so that they might produce rain, and makes them wandering and barren: so likewise lightness of spirit causes a person not to fulfill what he promised, but to regret the promise he made and annul it; for such a person is like a shifting wind and a fickle breeze, which immediately passes by and changes its place and condition.
This is seen in religious who through lightness of spirit desert the Order they had joined and become apostates. Therefore superiors who are wise carefully examine the character of novices, and if they see them to be fickle, changeable, and inconstant, they do not admit them to the religious life. Here applies that saying of Ovid: Fickle son of Aeson, more uncertain than a spring breeze, Why are your words empty of the weight of your promise?
According to the third combination, the three symbols — namely clouds, winds, and rainless showers, that is, scanty and barren ones — mark three reasons why someone does not fulfill his promises. First, the empty and hollow clouds are rainless because they lack substance, namely the moist vapor that would be resolved into rain. These therefore represent showy and deceitful arrogance, which is the cause that makes the arrogant and deceitful man display and promise more than he has in mind and can or will deliver, in order to deceive and trick others. Second, the shifting winds, and therefore rainless, represent the fickleness of spirit that causes people to change their purpose and retract their promise.
Third, thin and barren rains represent imprudence and talkativeness, by which someone, not considering or measuring his meager strength and resources, pledges more than he can give, and then is forced by poverty to give less.
This is what Threverius says in the Apophthegmata: "When the sky glows red in the morning, it portends a storm: so the least is to be expected from one who arrogantly promises the most."
Here belongs that saying of Hermes Trismegistus to Tatius in Stobaeus, sermon 11, On Truth: "Indeed," he says, "among men, there are three causes why they violate their promises and lie. For either someone says something deceitfully from the very beginning; or he later repents of what he said; or he has become unable to carry it out. Of these, the first is the fault of a depraved will, the second of a weak judgment, the third of a feeble capacity. God avoids all of these: by His goodness, fraud; by His constancy, the revocation of what He might have regretted; and finally by the efficacy of His action, any impediment to the goal."
Symbolically, Cassian in Conference 15, chapter 7, applies this proverb to those who boast of their power to work miracles, such as casting out demons, when a Christian ought to glory in nothing but humility, which is the virtue of Christ: "Therefore," he says, "our forefathers never said that upright monks, free from the disease of vainglory, were those who proclaim themselves exorcists before men and spread abroad among admiring crowds, with the most boastful display, the grace they have found — but in vain; for without doubt what is said in Proverbs will come upon them: As winds and clouds and rains are most manifest, so is he who boasts of a false gift. So if anyone does any such thing before us, he should be praiseworthy in our eyes not for the admiration of signs but for the beauty of his character."
Tropologically, learn here how great is the vanity and folly of ostentation and lying promises. For this makes men arrogant, vain, liars, infamous, so that no one believes them anymore, hated and detested; it turns those whom it has deceived from friends into enemies. The chameleon, says Pliny, book 11, chapter 40, has a very large lung and nothing else inside: some people have nothing besides ostentation and windy boasting.
Elegantly, Plutarch says in the Moralia: "Just as full eggs sink and empty ones float, so he who is endowed with true virtues or learning makes less show of himself than one who is not. Animals that have long legs must also have a long neck: so those who strive to live with great display must reach further to find the means to support it. As the sun, the higher it is, makes shorter shadows, and the closer it is to the earth, the longer, namely in morning and evening: so virtue, the greater and loftier it is, the less it desires to be seen and the less it shows itself; on the contrary, those who have less substance make a greater display of ostentation."
The same Plutarch says in the Apophthegmata: "When Leosthenes had driven the city of Athens to war, raising it up with magnificent hopes to the name of liberty and sovereignty, Phocion said that his words were like cypresses, which though they are tall and beautiful, bear no fruit." Nothing could be said more aptly against speech that promises splendidly and magnificently but is fruitless, just as the cypress tree, with its tall top composed into a cone, seems from afar to promise something remarkable, yet hardly any tree is more barren. Therefore the same Phocion wisely said: "Great things should not be promised, but done." So says Stobaeus, sermon 1, On Prudence.
Many do the contrary, promising golden mountains and the riches of Croesus, when they cannot deliver even a pig's grunt. There is the golden saying of Pythagoras: "Do illustrious things, meanwhile promising nothing grand." And that of Sixtus the Philosopher, maxim 187: "Do great things, do not promise great things." For the wise are silent and humble, who say little but do much: the foolish are talkative and proud, who do little and boast much; these therefore are like cicadas, which always chirp and do nothing; those are like bees, which are silent and produce honey and wax.
And that saying of Stobaeus, book On Morals: "Deliberate before you promise, and when you have promised, act: for not to act afterward is to deceive. See to it therefore that no one deservedly hates you."
15. BY PATIENCE A RULER IS PERSUADED, AND A SOFT TONGUE BREAKS HARDNESS.
The Syriac: will break bones; the Hebrew: by length of nostrils a ruler will be persuaded, and a soft tongue will break a bone; Pagninus: by long-suffering a prince will be bent, and a soft word will break a bone; Vatablus: by long-suffering a prince is persuaded; the Septuagint: in long-suffering is the prosperity of a prince, and a soft tongue crushes bones; Aquila: and a simple tongue; or, a tender tongue.
First, Rabbi Solomon takes this proverb as referring to appeasing God's wrath through prayers, meaning: When God patiently delays His wrath and does not immediately exact punishment from the guilty, one must take care diligently to appease Him with prayers and repentance. "And a soft tongue," that is, one devoted to prayers and arousing compassion, "will break hardness," that is, will soften the judge's severe sentence. This meaning is mystical and symbolic rather than literal, hence Bede, following it in his manner, says: "Although by sinning you have offended the Lord, you can yet merit His clemency, if you patiently endure the adversities that are inflicted as punishments for sins."
Second, Aben-Ezra translates: by patience a prince is seduced. For the Hebrew iephutte means is persuaded, softened, enticed, seduced, and, as the Chaldean has it, is soothed like a nursing infant, meaning: Because the prince patiently endures those by whom his anger has been kindled and does not take vengeance on them, then their enemies will seduce him and have power over him and prevail. Their soft and flattering tongue therefore will break bones; so says he. But our translator and others generally more correctly translate: "By patience a prince is appeased," not seduced.
Third, Jansenius, Baynus, and Cajetan, translating "will be appeased," explain this as referring to the patience of the prince himself, not of the subjects. For by patience here is not meant the tolerance of evils but slowness to anger, as the Hebrew has it. Hence the Septuagint translates makrothymia, that is, long-suffering, so that this proverb means that the prince's anger should be softened through his own long-suffering — that is, the prince should not be swift to vengeance but slow to it. For while he delays his anger and does not punish immediately, his fury is often calmed by the very delay. Thus when the Emperor Theodosius, too hasty for revenge, had grievously raged against the city of Thessalonica, he received from Ambrose a law consonant with this maxim, namely that the sentence issued by the prince should not be carried out until after several days, as can be seen in the Tripartite History, book 7, chapter 30; and in Theodoret, book 5, chapter 18.
Solomon therefore admonishes in the first part of this maxim especially princes, that they should not leap suddenly to vengeance, but delay and moderate their anger by long-suffering; and in the latter part, subjects, that they should break the hard fury of princes by soft and gentle words.
Or if you wish to refer both clauses to the prince, his soft tongue breaks the bone or bones, that is, the hardness and stiff neck of his subjects: for a prince who does not threaten harshly but speaks sweetly and persuasively causes his subjects to submit their stiff necks to his strict laws, taxes, duties, and similar burdens.
Again, Rabbi Levi explains it thus: If a prince is patient and moderates his anger, the result will be that only just punishments are imposed by him. And the argument for this is that if he indulges in anger too much, this heat will disturb all his affairs, and there will be no one who can call him back from his judgment, lest he carry out what the impulse of anger drives him to.
Here the Septuagint version seems to belong: in long-suffering is the prosperity of kings, meaning: For kings all happiness, all security, all good lies in long-suffering patience: for this wins over both subjects and enemies, just as on the contrary anger and vengeance makes enemies of all; this in turn preserves for the king and prince a sound reason and a calm mind, than which nothing is better for the right condition of the soul and for good governance of the state. For, says the author of the Catena of the Greeks, since kings are compelled to hear many complaints and disputes daily and to try many cases, unless they are endowed with a gentle and patient spirit and so disposed that they do not immediately fly into anger, they cannot avoid causing the greatest harm both to themselves and to the very affairs and business they must discern and judge. However, just as it befits a king to be patient, so he must also be shrewd and skilled in judging, so that he may remove flatterers from his midst and deliberate and judge calmly and patiently.
Fourth, others better understand these words as referring to the patience and soft tongue of subjects: for if a subject receives the anger of a prince with long-suffering patience and tolerance, and then softens it with mild and gentle words, he will certainly break it, even though it be bony and hard and rigid as bone. This is truly wonderful, namely that a soft thing should break something hard as bone — indeed, "a soft and humble speech is like a thunderbolt, which penetrates and strikes down all things bony and hard," as Saint Giles used to say. Hence Rabbi Levi says: By long-suffering and the tolerance of anger a prince is appeased when he has been enraged against his subjects; if someone, hearing his words, does not become inflamed but patiently endures them: for the result is that he wards off from himself the sudden calamity that the prince was devising.
It also signifies that a prince, when his anger boils over against someone, is softened by patience, when he is not immediately asked to grant pardon and life to the one against whom he is angry, but is allowed some space of time to indulge his anger: for in this way it will happen that with time the anger subsides, and then if he is asked with soft words, he will grant pardon. For soft words break the bones of anger, that is, its hardness and severity, by soothing them. So says Rabbi Levi. Thus Abigail with a flattering speech charmed and broke the anger of David, 1 Samuel 25.
Truly Plutarch says: "The remedy for a sick soul is speech: as warm water soothes inflammations, so gentle speech tends to calm anger." And Menander: "There is no remedy for anger except the fitting speech of a friend."
I saw in Rome a religious and wise man who served a certain great Prelate of the Church as confessor and also as advisor. When he would suggest sound counsels to the Prelate, from which the Prelate's spirit or desire recoiled and therefore he became angry, this man bore with silent and constant patience the many bitter and harsh verbal attacks that anger provoked, and by this patience he eventually won over the Prelate's spirit, so that when his choler had cooled and his mind was calm, he would condemn it and, quietly considering the reasons proposed by the confessor, would approve and follow them. Let the confessors and counselors of princes imitate this man, and they will learn by experience that "by patience a ruler is appeased."
The Chaldean translates: by patience of spirit let the prince be soothed as with milk, as if the patience of the one responding would render the angry prince no less calm than a nursing infant; so that just as an infant falls asleep after drinking milk, so the prince, upon hearing a mild response, subsides from his fury.
Note the word "prince," who is most willful, and like a torrent most vehement in whatever direction he inclines, and therefore one who can be restrained and bridled by God alone, according to the saying: "As the divisions of waters (or, as the Septuagint has, as the rush of water), so is the heart of the king in the hand of the Lord," Proverbs 21:1.
The Septuagint translates "crushes bones," a beautiful antithesis to the tongue which has no bone, and yet the bones themselves, the hardest things: for by the softest words the hardest things are crushed.
Truly Saint John Chrysostom says in his sermon On Meekness, volume 5: "Whoever wishes to overcome the furious, let him bravely bear their injuries." Here applies the proverb of the Arabs, Century 1, number 68: "He whose rank has been exalted does not bear anger; nor does he attain the highest place whose nature is wrathful," that is, prone to anger, meaning: Just as princes do not bear the indignation of others, so those who are naturally wrathful do not attain to sovereignty: for they offend many.
Symbolically, the prince, or, as others translate, the ruler, is the lofty and generous spirit, which knows how to calm with reason the impulses of anger suggested to it by injury received, by a choleric temperament, or by the devil, and to persuade itself that, overcoming anger with patience and meekness, it may learn to master it: whence it weakens and breaks the hardness of its anger, that is, its force and vehemence, with soft words grounded in solid reason, when, for example, it says to itself interiorly with the Psalmist: "Why are you sad (why are you angry: for sadness is the companion and follower of anger)! O my soul, and why do you trouble me?" Why are you indignant, O my soul, over so trivial a matter? Why do you deprive yourself of peace of mind for a straw, darken your reason, and wound your charity?
Consider with what great patience Christ bore the most atrocious injuries inflicted on Him in life and in death. For as Sidonius Apollinaris forcefully says, book 9, epistle 4: "However many cups of anxiety the affliction of life may offer us, what we endure is small if we remember what He drank at the cross, who invites us to heaven."
By this consideration of Christ's suffering and patience, Saint Elzear, Count of Ariano, calmed and quieted all impulses of anger, so much so that even amid the most atrocious injuries from his servants he appeared unmoved, free from bile and free from passion.
Hence the Hebrew has: by length of nostrils a prince is appeased. For Pliny and natural philosophers report that animals and men who have long and wide nostrils are long-suffering and slow to anger, because through their wide nostrils they easily emit and breathe out the fumes and bilious vapors of anger. Hence the elephant, which is the king of animals, because it has an enormous trunk and nostrils, flexible at will, while other animals have short and rigid ones, is slow and late to anger, so that the Philosopher says of it: "Its anger is equal to its trunk, namely endowed with the same length." Such should be the nose and long-suffering of a prince, and of a lofty and generous spirit.
Therefore Sotion, in his disputation On Anger, says: "Among the wise and learned, Heraclitus was moved to tears in place of anger, Democritus to laughter; for just as ships are excellent not when they sail in fair weather but when they resist storms and are preserved: so men who resist anger are great and strong." And Democritus himself: "To resist anger is difficult, but to conquer it is the mark of a man endowed with the best reason." For, as Aristotle says in Maximus, sermon 19: "Anger is a disturbance resembling the movement of beasts, which constantly oppresses, and endowed with a hard and violent force, is the cause of murders, the companion of calamities, the procurer of infamy and troubles, and the consumer of wealth."
Hence again, instead of "prince" others translate "ruler," because just as the helmsman of a ship can navigate, break, and calm storms, so the ruler of the soul can do the same with the impulses of anger. Hence Saint John Chrysostom, homily 34 on Genesis, says: "Meekness establishes our soul in perpetual tranquility and as it were in a harbor, and is the occasion of all refreshment and rest for us. For what is more blessed than to be freed from internal war? For even if we enjoy the greatest external peace, if within us a storm, tumult, and sedition of anger arises, external peace will avail nothing."
Thus Saint John Chrysostom, homily 2 on Mark, says that honey was forbidden in sacrifices, Leviticus 2:11: "Because," he says, "honey is an indication of pleasure and sweetness; for pleasure always mortifies, pleasure never pleases God." Hence it is a fact that among the honeycombs of bees, when they die, corpses and filth are found, just as all pleasure ends in filth and corruption.
So from the records of the Churches of Capua and Canosa, Philippus Ferraris in the Catalogue of the Saints of Italy, at the date February 9. Indeed, just as "a tranquil God calms all things," as Saint Bernard says, so a man who is master of his anger and passions easily calms and composes them in others.
Such was Saint Sabinus, Bishop of Canosa in Apulia under the Emperor Justinian, of whom we read the following in his Life: "From infancy he devoted himself entirely to God. For despising the enticements of the flesh, constant in divine meditations, he seemed to care for nothing except how to please God: he was a worshiper of piety, a lover of justice, especially generous to the poor and strangers. He was the devoted father of orphans and widows, and no one ever approached him so sad that he did not leave joyful; no one angry or proud who did not depart meek and humble." Therefore he shone forth with the gift of prophecy and miracles, which Saint Gregory recounts in the Dialogues, book 2, chapter 15, and book 3, chapter 5.
16. YOU HAVE FOUND HONEY; EAT WHAT IS SUFFICIENT FOR YOU, LEST PERHAPS BEING SATIATED YOU VOMIT IT UP.
In Hebrew: eat your sufficiency; the Syriac: your portion; the Septuagint: when you have found honey, eat as much as is enough, lest perhaps, if you have overfilled yourself too much, you be forced to vomit. So says the author of the Catena of the Greeks.
Honey, because it is warm and sweet, if eaten moderately nourishes the body, invigorates it, cheers it, and makes people long-lived, as physicians teach; but if it is taken in excess and without moderation, it burdens the body, causes nausea both of itself and of all foods, provokes bile (for sweet things turn to bile), loosens the stomach, and provokes vomiting, as Pliny teaches, book 22, chapter 24, and Galen, book 3 of On Diet.
Honey is a symbol of every sweet, pleasant, and delightful thing. Therefore this general proverb signifies generally that everything that delights, whether body or soul, should be taken moderately so that it may benefit; for if it is taken immoderately, it harms and, as it were, honey turns to gall: for there nature has joined sweet to bitter. Pierius, Hieroglyphics 26, chapter 8, says that Xenophon mentions honey among the Macrones that causes sleeplessness: those who ate too much of it were forced to vomit and have diarrhea, and could not even stand at all.
In particular, this proverb can be applied to the various things that give pleasure.
First, to the pleasures of the body, which when taken moderately restore the body; but when taken immoderately burden, weaken, and overwhelm it. Hence pleasure is honey, but mixed with gall — it is, so to speak, Corsican honey, which bees collect from hemlock and therefore it is poisonous, of which Ovid says: Which I think the Corsican bee sent, gathered from the distant hemlock flower, under infamous honey.
Those who are of this kind easily calm and compose not only their own but also others' tumults of anger and strife. To arrive at this point, one must call the soul away from all the enticements of the world and fix it upon God alone.
Here applies the honey of the Heptacometae, about which our Causinus says, book 9 of the Parables, chapter 8: The Heptacometae, or Seven-Villagers, he says, gather honey from the topmost branches of trees, which drives men to madness. When they offered bowls of this honey to Pompey's soldiers, three cohorts of them fell, deprived of their senses, as Strabo testifies, book 11, page 377, number 30. In a similar way pleasure ensnares its prey with the lure of honey, and then tears them apart with iron. Impious poisons lurk beneath sweet honey.
Therefore one must respond to pleasure when it entices with its allurements, as the donkey did in Phaedrus to his master who ordered the barley left over from the piglet that had just been slaughtered to be given to him: I would most willingly desire your food, were it not that the one who was fed on it was also slaughtered. So Phaedrus, book 5, fable 85.
Pleasure seems indeed similar to that little spring of the Geloni, which Aristotle mentions in his book On Marvels: "It has," he says, "waters wonderfully clear and of the same color as pure springs. But as soon as any animal tastes of them, it immediately dies." Therefore Sixtus the Philosopher, Maxim 237, and physicians give this remedy and precept for health: "Eat short of satiety; flee drunkenness as you would madness."
Second, apply this honey with the author of the Catena of the Greeks, Rabbi Levi, and Jansenius to the perception of wisdom (as Solomon himself applies it, verse 27), which brings no small pleasure to the soul, and therefore the Wise Man above, under the similitude of honey, invited us to it saying: "Eat, my son, honey, for it is good: so is the doctrine of wisdom to your soul." And shortly after, exhorting with a similar comparison to the moderation to be observed in knowledge: "As he who eats too much honey," he says, "it is not good for him: so he who is a searcher of majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory," so that by this saying he seems to have wished particularly to require moderation in acquiring wisdom.
For pleasant and sweet to men is the reading and meditation of the divine words, especially to those who, despising the goods of this world, long for the next life, so that the Prophet said: "How sweet are Your words to my palate! More than honey to my mouth."
Here belongs the Arab proverb: "Taste, and you will be fed," that is, taste honey or similar food, and it itself will call you to desire more of it, which the French say: En mangeant l'appetit vient (appetite comes with eating). This is an exhortation to those whom the greatness of the labor deters from the study of wisdom and virtue. And yet those who presume more from the sweetness of the Scriptures than they are able to digest, wishing to be wise beyond what is fitting and unwilling to be wise with sobriety, frequently lose even what they had understood well, falling from right faith and entangling themselves in various evils of mind and body, as much experience teaches.
For rightly did Martial sing: Whoever is not wise beyond what is just, that man is wise. And Cicero, in Tusculan Disputations book 2, says that Neoptolemus in Ennius declares "that it is necessary for him to philosophize, but briefly; for it does not please him at all to do so excessively."
Bede beautifully suggests that by honey is specifically designated the sweetness of heavenly wisdom, because this is ministered to men through the office of spiritual fathers, as through the labor of the most prudent bees. Here applies the common saying: "All excess is bad, but excess in studies is the worst."
Thus Saint Gregory, book 20 of the Moralia, chapter 10: "You have found honey," he says, "eat what is sufficient for you, lest perhaps being satiated you vomit it up. For he who desires to eat the sweetness of spiritual understanding beyond what he can contain, vomits up even what he had eaten: because while he seeks to understand the highest things beyond his powers, he loses even what he had understood well. Hence he says again: As he who eats too much honey, it is not good for him: so he who is a searcher of majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory. For the glory of the invisible Creator, which when moderately investigated does not lift one beyond one's powers, when scrutinized oppresses. And so heretics, the more they aspire to be filled with the sublimity of understanding, the more they become empty."
Third, Rabbi Levi, Rabbi Solomon, Cajetan, and indeed Bede connect this proverb to the following one, as if the comparison is completed there; hence the phrase "being satiated" is repeated there, so that by honey you may understand friendship and a friend, meaning: Use friendship and a friend, but moderately as with honey: for if you associate with a friend immoderately, he will become satiated and will grow weary, and will recoil from and reject your excessive familiarity, according to the saying of the Comic poet: "Too much familiarity breeds contempt." And at last your honey will turn to gall, that is, your friendship will turn not only to weariness but also to hatred, so that he hates you as much as he formerly loved you.
Here belongs the Arab proverb: "When your friend is honey, do not eat him entirely." For many abuse the kindness and good nature of their friends. Therefore to such people the Arabs say and advise: "He who asks his friend for more than he can give deserves a refusal." Hence again they advise a friend: "Do not be a dog to your friends."
Fourth, Saint Bernard, in sermon 47 among the shorter ones, takes honey as human praise: "Rightly," he says, "we are forbidden not all, but the immoderate eating of this honey. For there are times when we usefully receive human praise, only with a view to fraternal charity and for the salvation of those who for this reason more readily yield to us. If then this frugality is observed, the moderate eating of this honey will not harm. But if there is anything more, it is from evil and will turn to ruin. For he eats what he has found immoderately who, desiring too much, lets his heart be puffed up, fattened, and made gross by the favor of human praise: from which the holy Prophet begs to be guarded by the Lord, expressing the very favor we mentioned not indeed by the name of honey but by the closely related name of oil, where he says: But let not the oil of the sinner fatten my head," Psalm 140.
Finally he adds how and for what reason this honey is vomited up: "Do you wish to know when the immoderate feaster vomits up the honey delicacy, which, consuming it to the point of satiety, he took beyond the measure of frugality? That happens without doubt when the praises with which he was sated are such that he sought no other fruit, but was content with mere human favor; then, I say, with much anxiety he vomits up what he ate with pernicious delight, when hearing someone else praised, he wastes away with envy. For a mind given to vanity and swollen with arrogance regards the praise of another as its own disgrace."
Fifth, by honey understand riches, meaning: Gather wealth sufficient to support your family, as much as you can justly and honestly without injury: for what you accumulate beyond that, you will eventually be forced to vomit up with disgrace and loss, according to the saying of Plutarch in the Moralia: "Heap up gold against all right, amass silver, build promenades, fill your house with servants, the city with your name: you will have given wine to one who asks, and to one who has a fever and a bilious condition an abundance of honey, by which he is not strengthened but most greatly harmed."
Sixth, by honey understand the delight of prayer, meditation, and spiritual consolations; for these are not to be enjoyed but used with moderation: for he who indulges in them too much injures his head and health, becomes headstrong and obstinate, becomes lazy and idle, and flees the labors of the active life, etc., as those experienced in spiritual matters teach, and as daily experience shows. Therefore prayer should be directed toward action, especially the action demanded by duty, obedience, or charity, and thus prayer will not diminish but will grow and increase, both because it pours itself out in holy action and toward one's neighbors, and because action nourishes and sharpens prayer.
Again, mortification enhances prayer; therefore the prayer of one who does not mortify his anger, impatience, self-will, etc., is empty and ineffective; therefore, for prayer to be fruitful and effective, let it take mortification as its companion. Hence Saint Ignatius, founder of our Society, when someone was being praised as a man of much prayer, corrected this by saying: "Rather, a man of much mortification."
Finally, apply this proverb to any occupation, office, or business that is pleasant and delightful; for moderation must be applied to it, lest excess do harm and injury. Solomon therefore teaches that if you use it moderately, your delight will be lasting; but if immoderately, it will not last but will turn to disgust: therefore, that the sweetness may be perpetual for you, use it with moderation.
The a priori reason is: First, that honey and all the delights and delightful things of this life are limited, modest, and slight; therefore when a man indulges in them too much, he exhausts their sweetness, and when it is exhausted, nothing remains but the dregs of disgust and bitterness. Therefore the human mind, which is capable of infinite good and divine delight, when the sweetness of one thing is exhausted, seeks another and another that might fill and satisfy this infinite capacity of its own, and wandering through all things finds none except in the infinite and immense God.
Second, just as the stomach filled with honey is burdened and impaired by it, especially because honey has not only sweetness but also its own sourness; moreover, honey is airy and flatulent, and therefore creates winds and cramps in the stomach, which tear and torment it so that it tries to vomit it up: so likewise every delightful thing, if it fills the sense or faculty to overflowing, burdens and weighs it down with both its delight and its sourness and defect, which is attached to it; and therefore creates heaviness, disgust, pain, and vomiting.
For just as food pleases and delights only insofar as it satisfies the appetite and hunger, and when the appetite is satisfied, anything more is a burden and a source of nausea — hence Saint Leo says: "Take from pleasure what is going to be a burden" — so likewise any other delight pleases only up to the point where the soul's natural hunger and desire for it is satisfied: once that is satisfied, what is added is weariness and torment. And this is the reason why satiety breeds nausea, disgust, and vomiting.
Third, the senses and faculties of the soul are of limited power, so that they can extend and exert themselves only up to a certain limit of sensation and delight; if through intemperance they exceed this, they are overwhelmed, crushed, weakened, and corrupted. Hence the saying of Aristotle, On the Soul: "An intense sensible object corrupts the sense." The opposite is the case in heaven, where the desire of the vision and enjoyment of God sharpens satiety, and satiety sharpens desire. For the blessed are always satiated with God, and therefore always desire to see God, because God alone is an immense good, filling and satiating the soul, and therefore always supremely desirable. Moreover, God expands the soul's capacity so that it can receive so great a good, and is never burdened or wearied by it, but continually longs and aspires to it with all the depths of the soul.
Fourth, just as the sweetness of honey dissolves and loosens the stomach, and therefore breeds nausea both of itself and of other foods, and vomiting, unless it is taken moderately: so likewise any other sweetness and pleasure dissolves the senses and faculties of the soul if it is indulged in intemperately, and creates weariness both of itself and of all other good actions and occupations. For this is the nature of immoderate sweetness and delight. Sweetness is nausea-inducing and breeds nausea, just as bitterness breeds horror and stupor, unless taken in moderation. But what is austere, which is properly the opposite of sweet, contracts and strengthens the stomach, and by its austerity checks intemperance, and can only be taken in moderation.
Salazar gives a fifth reason: Just as in honeycombs, along with the honey, there are putrid substances of a very bitter taste, so too in pleasures there are many bitter and painful anxieties that corrupt their sweetness. Again, just as bees themselves often perish immersed in their own most tenacious honey, so too men given over to pleasures and glutted with them very often bring the most wretched destruction upon themselves.
Add that what is sweet is heavy and has more of earth and earthiness; hence salt water floats on sweet wine but not on dry wine, as Aristotle teaches in the Problems, section 23, question 26. Hence the honey at the bottom of the vessel is the best, because the sweetest sinks there, being the most earthy. Conversely, oil, being airy, is best at the top of the vessel; wine, being midway between air and earth, is best in the middle of the vessel. Again, sweet things are more thoroughly concocted and therefore have more juice and nourishment; dry things are less concocted and therefore have less nourishment and more waste, and therefore we are filled and satiated more quickly by sweet things than by dry ones, as Aristotle teaches in the Problems, section 22, questions 2 and 3. Hence sweet things fill and satiate more quickly and shortly after turn to disgust; for what is consumed after satiety is a source of disgust and nausea. Galen adds that sweet wines harm the liver and spleen: for they obstruct the liver and make the spleen thick; moreover they generate stones in the kidneys. Again, he says, excessive satiety impedes the vital operations and produces kidney stones.
17. WITHDRAW YOUR FOOT FROM YOUR NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE, LEST BEING SATIATED HE HATE YOU.
In Hebrew: make precious (that is, rare; for rare things are precious and dear) your foot from the house of your neighbor; the Septuagint: bring your foot to your friend; the Chaldean: restrain; Symmachus: hold back; Vatablus: withdraw your foot.
This proverb is derived from and made clear by the preceding one; indeed, as some hold, it is its counterpart and the application and explanation of the parable of honey, as I said there. It does not forbid all entering of a neighbor's or friend's house; for friendship requires familiar conversation and mutual visits: but it commands that they should not be too frequent and constant, lest they breed disgust and hatred in the friend. "True friendship," says Isocrates in Maximus, sermon 6, "requires especially three things: first, virtue, as something honorable; second, familiarity, as something pleasant; third, usefulness, as something necessary: for where you are esteemed, you should accept hospitality and rejoice in the meeting, and when in need, make use of it."
Therefore, if by "neighbor" here you understand a friend, explain it thus: Do not go too frequently to a friend's house, but temper excessive visiting with rarity, as far as the laws and rights of friendship allow; for in this way you will become more precious and dear to your friend, the rarer you are. For "what you wish to be dear for a long time must be rare," says Seneca, book 1 of On Benefits. Here applies that saying of Martial: Make yourself no one's too-close companion: You will rejoice less, and grieve less.
An example is found in the Life of Cato: When Munatius complained that, wishing to visit Cato in Cyprus, he had been rather discourteously turned away, although Cato had no business but was chatting inside with Canidius, Cato defended himself by saying that "he feared lest, according to Theophrastus's maxim, too much familiarity might one day give rise to hatred."
But if you take "neighbor" here as anyone at all, even not a friend, explain it thus: "Withdraw your foot from the house of your neighbor," so that you do not enter it except when necessity or usefulness — whether yours, his, public, or that of some third party — demands it; and even then take care not to enter his house too frequently, lest you breed satiety in him, which produces disgust and hatred, especially when, as tends to happen, you frequently ask something of him. For these constant requests are burdensome and annoying to friends; hence when they see petitioners approaching, they tighten their faces and withdraw, and pretend not to be at home, and sometimes when the visitors are too importunate and grasping, they call them harpies and flee them as they would harpies.
Add that frequent entry into a neighbor's house arouses in him the suspicion that you wish to spy out the secrets of his family, or steal something from it, or lay snares for the chastity of his wife or daughters, etc., all of which makes you hated and detested by him. Therefore, just as the frequent coming of a friend to a friend is tiresome, so the rare visit is precious.
This Saint Jerome elegantly impresses upon clerics in his letter 2 to Nepotian, near the end: "A cleric who, often invited to dinner, does not refuse is easily despised; let us never ask, and only rarely accept when invited. For somehow even the very person who begs us to accept, when we have accepted, regards us as cheaper; and wonderfully, if you disdain him when he asks, he will later esteem you all the more." The same Saint Jerome, letter 85 to Evagrius: "Everything that is rare," he says, "is more desired. Pennyroyal among the Indians is more precious than pepper. The fewness of deacons makes them honorable; the crowd of priests makes them contemptible." Finally Martial, book 4, epigram 29 (or 22): Rare things please: so the first fruits enjoy greater favor; So winter roses have won their price.
Mystically, the author of the Catena of the Greeks, by neighbor or friend understands God, and explains it thus: Do not touch upon the more hidden mysteries of the divinity, lest at some point through the weakness of your mind you fall from spiritual knowledge.
18. A JAVELIN, AND A SWORD, AND A SHARP ARROW: THE MAN WHO SPEAKS FALSE TESTIMONY AGAINST HIS NEIGHBOR.
For "javelin" the Hebrew has mephits, which the Chaldean and others generally translate as "hammer"; the Septuagint has "club," from the root puts, that is, he broke, crushed, scattered. For "sharp" the Septuagint translates azidato, which the Complutensians render as "barbed"; others properly as "ending in a point"; Saint Ambrose, De Officiis book 3, chapter 16, has "iron-tipped"; Saint Jerome against Rufinus has "pernicious."
The meaning is: A false witness, who speaks false testimony against his neighbor in court, or even outside of court, injures and strikes his neighbor just as if he were a javelin or dart, piercing and breaking his neighbor, or a sword running him through or cutting him apart, or an arrow penetrating him and sometimes mortally wounding and killing him. For he always takes away his reputation, often his wealth and goods, sometimes even his very life, and is the cause of the neighbor being condemned by a judge or killed by some private person. Moreover, he wounds and injures the mind of his neighbor with a great wound of grief.
Note: By these three — namely the javelin, sword, and arrow — as by the weapons most commonly used in ancient times, he signifies first, any kind of weapon whatsoever, meaning: The tongue of a false witness is more harmful than any weapons and darts, because it often gravely wounds and injures the innocent, and not rarely is the cause of their death, and of every kind of death, so that one is killed by a javelin, another by a sword, a third by arrows, a fourth by a noose, etc.
Second, these three very sharp weapons mark the keenness of the false witness's tongue, because like a javelin, a sword, and an arrow it is extremely sharp and strikes, penetrates, torments, and cuts the innermost parts not only of the body but also of the soul, according to Psalm 54:22: "His words are smoother than oil; and yet they are javelins." And Psalm 56:5: "The children of men — their teeth are weapons and arrows, and their tongue is a sharp sword." And elsewhere: "They have sharpened their tongue like serpents."
Third, one commentator proposes only two comparisons, namely the sword and the arrow; for he translates: a scattering sword and a sharp arrow is he who speaks false testimony against his neighbor, meaning: The tongue of a false witness harms and strikes from afar like an arrow, when it imputes a false crime to the accused in his absence; the same harms and strikes up close like a sword, when before the accused it shamelessly defends and confirms its false testimony before the judge.
Fourth, Lyranus, Dionysius, Jansenius, and others generally propose three comparisons: the first of the javelin or hammer or club, the second of the sword, the third of the arrow; and they note that with a hammer or club one typically batters and breaks the head, with a sword the throat is attacked, and with an arrow the heart is pierced, to signify that he who speaks false testimony against his neighbor does the same as if he were battering someone's head with a hammer or club, cutting his throat with a sword, or piercing his heart with an arrow. These three things encompass the diverse and almost all the ways in which one person harms another, as Cajetan observes; for the hammer harms and kills by beating, the sword by cutting, the sharp arrow by penetrating. Hence every kind of harm that arises from false testimony is signified; for it harms the person, the reputation, and the possessions.
Mystically, heretics are javelins, swords, and sharp arrows, because they falsely cite testimonies of Sacred Scripture and pervert them by misunderstanding them, in order to corrupt the minds of their hearers and drag them into heresy, the result being that they destroy and kill not just one soul but thousands upon thousands, indeed whole cities and provinces.
19 AND 20. A ROTTEN TOOTH AND A WEARY FOOT: HE WHO RELIES ON THE UNFAITHFUL IN THE DAY OF DISTRESS, AND LOSES HIS CLOAK IN THE DAY OF COLD.
The Hebrew has: a broken tooth and a dislocated foot is the confidence of a transgressor in the day of distress; the Chaldean: an evil tooth and a slipping foot; Pagninus: a broken tooth and a foot that does not stand firm in its track; Cajetan: and a foot displaced; the Septuagint has: the way of the wicked and the foot of the unjust will perish in the evil day.
For "weary" the Hebrew has muadet, that is, wavering, faltering, tottering: for the root maad, just as its letters are transposed, so also it is opposite in meaning to the verb amad. For amad means to stand, to be firm; but maad denotes a wavering in standing, tottering, change, and inconstancy, and signifies to totter, slip, and decline into ruin. Our translator, for mibtach, that is, hope or confidence, seems to have read with different vowel points mebatteach, that is, hoping or trusting, but the meaning is the same; or rather, by the usual Scripture idiom, he took the abstract for the concrete, namely hope for the one hoping, meaning: He who places his trust in an unfaithful person is like one who has a rotten tooth and a weary foot, and trusts and confidently relies on them — on the rotten tooth for chewing and eating, and on the weary foot for standing and walking. It is a metonymy: for the tooth stands for the one with teeth, and the hope for the one with a weary foot. Or conversely, "he who hopes" stands for hope or trust, that is, the concrete for the abstract; for hope in an unfaithful person is like a rotten tooth and a weary foot.
First, Bede and Vatablus take transgressor or unfaithful one as meaning man in general: for every man is a transgressor and sinner, both because he sinned in Adam originally and because he often sins actually on his own; as if Solomon teaches here that hope should not be placed in man but in God, according to Jeremiah 17:5: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his arm." "For he," says Bede, "is rightly compared to a rotten tooth and a weary foot; because he who does not know that one good for man, namely to cling to God and to place his hope in God, can neither take the food of life nor reach the dwelling of desired salvation. And such a one loses his cloak on the day of cold, because even if in the fair weather of this present life he seems clothed in the habit of religion, yet when the severity of the just judgment comes upon him, he will be found utterly naked of the adornment of justice, and unworthy of the company of those of whom it is written: Blessed is he who watches and keeps his garments, lest he walk naked and they see his shame."
Second, others take transgressor as the impious, the wicked, and, as the Syriac translates, the unjust, meaning: He who trusts in an impious and wicked person is like one who chews and grinds his food with a rotten tooth, and like one who leans on a weary foot: for just as the rotten tooth and weary foot deceive him and collapse under the weight, so the impious person deceives the hope of one who trusts in him. The Chaldean, however, takes transgressor as a plunderer: An evil tooth, he says, and a weary foot (the Syriac: a dislocated foot), so shall be the hope of the plunderer in the day of distress, meaning: Plunderers hope for great wealth from their plundering; but this hope deceives them when they see themselves killed for their plundering or hanged by a judge.
Third, properly and genuinely our translator takes transgressor as unfaithful, that is, faithless and perfidious, who betrays hope. Therefore both the one trusting in the faithless person and the trust itself placed in the faithless person are compared here to a rotten tooth and a weary foot. But more elegantly it is the trust itself that one has in an unfaithful, that is, faithless person, that is compared to a rotten and broken tooth and a weary foot, rather than the person who hopes in him, since what is meant to be signified is that such trust, and the very person in whom one has trusted, abandons a man in his time of need, just as such a tooth and foot fail a man in what is necessary, namely in eating and walking.
Yet rightly also according to our version, he who hopes upon the unfaithful is compared to a rotten tooth and a weary foot, because such a person through his trust cannot help himself or his need in the day of distress, just as a rotten tooth and a weary foot cannot perform their function when it is necessary. So say Jansenius and others.
Therefore the first and proper reason for this analogy and comparison, by which false hope placed in the faithless is compared to a rotten tooth and a weary foot, is that both are unfaithful. For just as a rotten tooth fails and abandons the one chewing, and a weary foot fails the one walking, so likewise the faithless person fails and abandons the one trusting in him in the day of distress; indeed, just as decay corrupts the tooth itself, which is so strong that it is damaged neither by iron nor by fire — hence Aristotle, History of Animals, book 5, chapter 7: "The substance of teeth is so firm that it alone among bones resists the edge of iron" — so likewise the faithlessness of a friend or servant corrupts all the faith and trust of the master, so that he trusts and confides in no one thereafter, and thus lives in perpetual distrust, fear, and anxiety.
Second, a rotten tooth causes harm to the one eating, and a weary foot to the one walking; the faithless person causes the same to the one trusting in him. For often through this faithlessness one incurs enormous losses of wealth, reputation, and life.
Third, a rotten tooth, from the humors and catarrhs dripping from the head into its fibers, causes immense pain, as does a dislocated foot to one walking. The faithless person causes similar pains to his master. Hear Pliny, book 7, chapter 16: "Teeth are necessary not only for food and nourishment, since the front teeth hold the control of the voice and speech, catching in a certain harmony the stroke of the tongue and by the pattern of their arrangement and their size shaping or softening or blunting words, and when they fall out taking away all clear speech."
Hear also Aristotle, On the Parts of Animals, book 3, chapter 1: "Man possesses teeth well made for a common use, namely the front teeth sharp to cut, the molars broad to grind; the teeth called canines separate these two kinds, being placed between them with a nature midway between both: for the middle partakes of both extremes. And the canines themselves are partly sharp and partly broad: which is the same in other animals too, in which not all are sharp, but man has received such teeth and in such number principally for the sake of speech. For the front teeth contribute most to the forming of letters. Some animals, as already said, have teeth only for preparing food; those for which teeth also serve as weapons and means of strength have them either protruding, as the boar, or sharp and closely packed like the teeth of a comb, which is why we said they have serrated teeth."
Therefore just as decay disarms the tooth, and through it the man and the animal, and exposes him naked and unarmed to his enemies: so likewise the faithless person weakens, disarms the master who trusts in him, and hands him over to his enemies to be destroyed, and betrays him. Finally, Galen in the book On the Parts teaches that teeth decay from disuse and lack of food. For those who always chew with one jaw, the molar teeth of the other jaw, being idle, waste and decay more quickly. So faithlessness in a friend not rarely arises from idleness and laziness; for these produce poverty and hunger, which drive him to faithlessness so that through it he may acquire the necessities of life; for want makes thieves, and so also traitors.
Fourth, just as a rotten tooth stirs up a stench in the mouth and stomach and produces a foul breath that it breathes upon bystanders: so likewise a faithless person brings disgrace upon his master and exposes him to the ridicule and mockery of all. Pliny adds, book 11, chapter 36: "In human teeth there is a certain poison; for when bared opposite a mirror they dim its brightness, and they kill unfledged pigeon chicks." Much more poisonous are rotten teeth, and far more so perfidious friends.
Fifth, just as a rotten tooth rubs its decay and corruption on the neighboring teeth and taints and corrupts them: so also a faithless person infects and corrupts his master's other servants or associates with his faithlessness. Therefore Hippocrates, in the book On Afflictions, established this rule: "If a tooth has been eaten away and loosened, it should be extracted by prying it out." Similarly, concerning a faithless friend, Plutarch says in the Moralia: "To remove a friend is to pull out a tooth."
Salazar gives a sixth reason. It is well known, he says, that the most characteristic thing about rotten teeth and dislocated feet is that they express within themselves the changes of weather: for in clear and bright skies they are well; but when the weather begins to turn and the sky becomes overcast with clouds, then they tend to cause pain, meaning: Just as such a foot or tooth ache in cloudy weather, and the one becomes unfit for walking and the other for grinding food: so also a faithless companion, when fortune blows against and times are adverse, fails and abandons his friend.
Again, more precisely, the rotten tooth and weary foot are attributed not to the faithless servant but to the master who trusts and hopes in him, as our translator renders, meaning: He who has placed his hope in a faithless servant or friend is like a rotten tooth and a weary or feeble foot; for just as such a tooth and foot are well in clear weather but ache greatly and grow feeble in cloudy weather: so also that man, when fortune blows favorably, pleasantly enjoys his friend, rejoices, and is strong; but when fortune reverses and fair weather turns to clouds, when his friend flees he suffers greatly and is distressed.
Seventh, healthy and therefore reliable teeth provide three enormous benefits to man and animals: first, they chew and break down food so that it may be more fully and smoothly digested in the stomach, for the first digestion of food takes place in the mouth by the teeth; second, they produce the voice and speech, making it articulate and conversational in man; third, they are weapons by which an animal defends itself against its enemies, hence the weapons of brute animals are nothing other than teeth, hooves or heels, and horns. These three things rotten and therefore unreliable teeth take away from man; for they are useless for chewing, for speech, and for biting. The same three things a faithless friend or servant takes away from a master who trusts in him, namely wealth and sustenance, reputation and glory, and sometimes health and life.
Hear Pliny, book 7, chapter 16: "Teeth are necessary not only for food and nourishment, since the front teeth control the voice and speech, catching in a certain harmony the stroke of the tongue and by the pattern of their arrangement and their size shaping or softening or blunting words, and when they fall out taking away all clear speech." Hear also Aristotle, On the Parts of Animals, book 3, chapter 1: "Man possesses teeth well made for a common use, namely the front teeth sharp to cut, the molars broad to grind; the teeth called canines separate these two kinds, being placed between them with a nature midway between both: for the middle partakes of both extremes. And the canines themselves are partly sharp and partly broad: which is the same in other animals too, in which not all are sharp. But man has received teeth of such kinds and in such number principally for the sake of speech. For the front teeth contribute most to the forming of letters. Some animals, as already said, have teeth only for preparing food; those for which teeth also serve as weapons and means of strength have them either protruding, as the boar, or sharp and closely packed like the teeth of a comb, which is why we said they have serrated teeth."
20. AND LOSES HIS CLOAK IN THE DAY OF COLD.
For "loses" the Hebrew has maade, which has a contrary meaning: for properly it means to add, to adorn, to clothe; but here it means the contrary, namely to take away clothing, to strip, to lose, as our translator renders it, along with Pagninus, Vatablus, and others generally; hence less aptly Cajetan translates it here as an ornament, namely silk: Preparing silk, he says, in the day of cold, meaning: Just as silk, because it is thin, does not ward off cold, so neither does a faithless friend avert a calamity threatening his friend.
This is the third comparison, meaning: Just as he who eats food trusting in a rotten tooth quickly feels pain and harm; and just as he who walks on a weary foot collapses on the road; and just as he who loses his cloak on the day of cold shivers: so likewise he who trusts in a faithless person feels no benefit but much harm and trouble, as are all inconstant, fickle, and changeable people: for their faith, like their character, is not solid but light, shifting, and faithless.
Some think that two causes of unfaithfulness are noted here, namely why someone breaks faith given to another: namely adverse fortune, and this is signified by "the day of distress"; and animosity and discord, and this is signified by "the day of cold," when the spirit stiffens with the cold of hatred, meaning: He who trusts a doubtful friend when fortune is against him acts rashly and will feel harm, because adversity tends to drive away friends and make them deserters: so too he who trusts a friend with whom he nurtures animosity and discord; for this will make the friend faithless, so that he withdraws the cloak of his help, and leaves him as if naked in the day of cold, that is, of affliction.
The Hebrews and the Chaldean place before these words soph pasuc, that is, a full stop, as if they belong to the following verse, with which therefore they connect them. Hence Vatablus translates thus: to sing songs to a sorrowful heart is the same as stripping off garments in time of cold, or pouring vinegar on soda; so also Pagninus. But our translator far more aptly connected these words to this verse. For a faithless friend in adversity is like a lost cloak on the day of cold. For what does this cloak have in common with a sorrowful heart?
VINEGAR ON SODA, HE WHO SINGS SONGS TO A VERY SAD HEART.
In Hebrew: vinegar upon soda, and one who sings in songs over a bad heart, or to an evil heart; the Syriac: like one who pours vinegar on lyre strings, that is, loosens them and dulls their sound and harmony on the lute. Rabbi Solomon says: Soda is a type of soft earth like clay, from which potters make vessels; but if vinegar falls on it, it dissolves and can be of no use. Cajetan: like vinegar on soap. The Chaldean goes a different way: As one who pours vinegar on soda, so grief tests hearts. The Septuagint: as vinegar attracts what is useless, so an affliction befalling the body saddens the heart. book 8, chapter 16: "Teeth," he says, "are unconquered by fires and untamed by flames, yet they are hollowed out by the decay of phlegm."
Note first: Concerning soda, Galen writes thus, book 9 of Simple Medicines: "It was said above that soda is midway between aphronitron and salt in its properties; however, when calcined it approaches aphronitron more closely, being rendered thinner by burning. Therefore it dries and digests, and if taken internally, it dries and thins thick and viscous juices, much more powerfully than salt." And Dioscorides, book 5, chapter 89: "Soda has the force and burning quality of salt; it calms intestinal pains if ground with cumin and drunk in mead; for recurrent fevers it is applied before the suspected attack; it is mixed in plasters that draw and disperse, thin, and cleanse leprosy. Infused with hot water or wine, it heals purulent inflammations and ringing and noises in the ears; it cleanses filth when instilled with vinegar." On this passage of Dioscorides, Matthiolus writes: "Soda and soda foam, which the ancients used very extensively in medicines, have long since ceased to be brought to us; therefore, in my opinion at least (for others hold the contrary, namely that modern soda is the same as the ancient, but is not used in medicines as formerly, though it serves for gunpowder), those are mistaken who think that the salt called niter, which is used for gunpowder for war machines and for making the strongest acids, by which goldsmiths separate gold from silver, is the true and authentic soda that Theophrastus, Dioscorides, Galen, Pliny, and other ancient writers mentioned, since Pliny clearly demonstrates this to be false, book 31, chapter 10, where he describes the old soda at length."
Moreover, "in medicines soda heats, thins, bites, thickens, dries, and ulcerates," says Pliny, book 31, chapter 10. Georgius Agricola, in De Re Metallica, book 12, summarizes the methods of making soda as follows. Soda, he says, is usually made either from soda-water, or from a dilution, or from lye. Water from the Nile diverted into soda works and baked by the same heat of the sun is also turned into soda. But the dilution from which soda is made comes from fresh water filtered through soda-containing soil.
Bede, whose words Lyranus and Dionysius transcribed, says: "Soda does not differ much in appearance from sal ammoniac; for just as the heat of the sun makes salt on the seashore by hardening into stone the seawater that the greater force of the winds or the surging of the sea itself has cast upon the farther shore: so in the Nitria region, where in summer longer rains soak the earth, there is such heat from the sun that it concocts the very rainwater through the breadth of the sands into stone, very similar in appearance to salt or ice, yet having no icy coldness but only a salty taste, which nevertheless, in the manner of salt, hardens in heat and melts and liquefies in cloudy air. The natives gather and preserve this, and when the need arises they use it as a cleansing agent." Lomentum is bean flour, which the ancients used for cleaning the body; also a kind of soap, of which Pliny speaks in book 33.
Bede and Lyranus therefore believe that soda (nitrum) was named from the Nitria province of Egypt, where it abounds. I would rather say that Nitria was named from the soda, and that nitrum is a Hebrew word, which, like saccus (sack), cornu (horn), and certain similar words, passed from the Hebrews to the Greeks, Latins, Egyptians, Italians, French, and the languages of almost all nations. For soda in Hebrew is called nether, from the root nathar, that is, he removed, transferred, because it removes and wipes away stains: just as the Greeks derive nitron from nizein or niptein, that is, to wash, cleanse, purge. Hence the saying: Do not wash the head of a donkey with soda, that is, do not spend a precious thing on a worthless matter. Or rather from nathar, that is, he leaped, sprang up, jumped about, because soda leaps and jumps about, just like salt in fire. Therefore Pagninus and Cajetan err, who following Rabbi David consider soda to be alum, with which wool is bleached, or soap with which garments are cleaned.
Note second: Certain proverbs admit diverse and contrary meanings; for when the circumstances, purpose, and manner are changed, the truth of the saying changes. Such are those in chapter 26, verse 4: "Do not answer a fool according to his folly, lest you become like him. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he seem wise in his own eyes." And those of the Comic poet: "By bearing an old injury, you invite a new one; by bearing an old injury, you avoid a new one." For in certain ways and circumstances a prior injury now invites a new one, now avoids and prevents one. And those of Publilius Syrus: "If you bear a friend's faults, you make them your own; if you do not bear a friend's faults, you make them your own." In like manner this proverb admits contrary explanations, which I will now review.
Note third: "Heart of evil" or "evil heart" can be taken in three ways. First, as a sad and sorrowful heart; for just as "good" is taken for pleasant, so "evil" for sad, as: "Sufficient for the day is its evil (that is, its affliction, its sadness)," Matthew 6:34. Similar passages are Ecclesiasticus 14:10 and chapter 22:27; Psalm 132:1, and elsewhere. Hence Symmachus translates: as vinegar on soda, he who sings songs to a sad heart; the Septuagint: an affliction in the body saddens the heart.
Second, an evil heart is an angry, indignant, choleric heart.
Third, an evil heart is a wicked, malicious, vicious, criminal heart.
The whole difficulty is what vinegar does to soda. For just as soda has no use in medicine today, so there is hardly any mixing of vinegar with soda. Some think that vinegar sharpens the soda and imparts its acidity to it; for vinegar communicates its sourness to all foods and drinks. Hence Isidore, book 20 of the Origins, chapter 3: "Vinegar is so called either because it is sharp (acutum) or because it is mixed with water; for wine mixed with water is reduced to this taste. Hence 'sour' (acidum) is quasi 'watery' (aquidum), because the grapes are washed with water in the presses after the wine has been pressed out. It is a cheap drink, fit for slaves." Galen agrees, book 1 of Simple Medicines and elsewhere, who affirms that vinegar ferments the earth and also exasperates: "Vinegar," he says, "mixed with thinning agents increases their power."
Others on the contrary think that vinegar dissolves and moderates soda and its power; for vinegar cools very much, says Galen, book 3 of Simple Medicines. The same author, books 1 and 2 of Compound Medicines: "Vinegar cuts, disperses, and represses, penetrates, dries, and cleanses like salt, but does not have the astringent power of salt." And Pliny, book 23, chapter 1: "Vinegar has the greatest power in cooling, yet no less in dispersing, so that poured on earth it foams." Hence those who fire war machines, having ignited the nitrate powder, quickly cool them with vinegar lest they melt and crack from the force of the fire. Again Pliny, book 14, chapter 20: "In the vileness of vinegar there lies a power for great uses, without which a gentler life cannot be led."
Both opinions are true in their own time, place, and manner. For vinegar has of itself a sourness by which it sharpens everything it is mixed with. Yet the same vinegar breaks, dissolves, and liquefies the power of soda, and in turn its own force and acidity is broken and tempered by the soda.
Hear Aristotle, Meteorology, book 4, chapter 3: "Soda and salts are soluble in moisture; but not in any moisture, only in cold." Now vinegar is cold and moist; therefore it dissolves and tempers soda, which is hot and dry. And Galen, book 3 of Compound Medicines, teaches that soda is best dissolved by sharp wine and vinegar. Therefore vinegar tempers the power of soda, and in turn soda softens the sourness of vinegar. Hence physicians both break the power of soda with vinegar and mitigate the sourness of vinegar with soda. Hence also vinegar poured on nitrate or gunpowder slows and retards its speed. Moreover, although each blunts the other's sharpness, it yet increases the power of cleansing; for since each has its own cleansing power, if they are mixed, each communicates its power to the other and thus sharpens its own. Therefore goldsmiths, to wipe away the stains and impurities of gold and silver, use soda mixed with vinegar. Finally, the ancients made the greatest use of this mixture in medicines. Hence Dioscorides, book 5, chapter 89: "Soda heals purulent ears and their ringing, and cleanses filth when instilled with vinegar." Pliny teaches the same, book 31, chapter 10, and Galen, book 3 of Compound Medicines. And Pliny adds that it cures vitiligo, that is, spots scattered over the whole body, as well as snake bites and other ulcers, and also weariness of the limbs: "It suppresses," he says, "the itching of those suffused with bile (those with jaundice, in whom bile is diffused from its bladder to the outer limbs)," especially when given with vinegar. Now:
First, if by "evil heart" you understand a sad heart, many with Jansenius explain it thus: Just as vinegar sharpens soda and makes it more acrid and harsh: so music and musical songs further exasperate a very sad heart, according to the saying: "Music in mourning is an untimely tale," Ecclesiasticus 22:6. Hence Saint Paul admonishes "to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep," Romans 12.
This seems to be supported by the fact that soda, both in its dark color and its bitter and salty taste, as well as vinegar in its sourness, is a symbol of sadness; and as Galen says, book 3 of Simple Causes: "Black bile (that is, the melancholy that produces sadness) is biting and strong like vinegar and ashes." Cajetan adds that he learned from experience that if vinegar is added to soap, garments are not cleaned but more stained, meaning: Just as one acts perversely who washes garments with soda, that is, as he himself says, soap and vinegar, when they should be washed with water: so too one acts perversely who sings songs of joy to an afflicted heart; for by this he does not remove the affliction but increases it, whereas he would mitigate it if he also wept with the mourner. So also Aben-Ezra.
Others on the contrary more correctly explain it thus: Just as vinegar breaks and softens the power of soda, and soda softens the power of vinegar: so likewise sweet speech and song gradually break and soften the sadness of the heart; meaning: These four things are similarly dissimilar and dissimilarly similar. For they are similar because, just as vinegar mixed with soda or salt or alum, according to the opinion of physicians, is effective for curing purulent ears and cleans their filth and removes their ringing: so indeed melodious songs — that is, songs that are truly carmina, having rhythmical speech composed of certain sweet and most choice words — are effective for curing and soothing the ailments of a sad heart; just as David, playing the harp, drove away Saul's afflictions, 1 Samuel 16:23.
They are dissimilar in that the cure for ears and for the soul is not the same; for into the ears vinegar with soda must be instilled, both of which sharply bite the affected part and sting it with pain; on the contrary, for a sick heart the sweetest sayings and songs must be sung to it, in which there is nothing of sharpness, nothing of biting.
Here belongs also the explanation of Rabbi Levi: Just as from soda and vinegar poured on garments a twofold benefit is gained — both that the stain is entirely removed and also that the garments are imbued with the scent of vinegar, by which mildew and mustiness are removed — so too when someone sings many and various songs to a spirit overwhelmed with grief, he achieves this: that by pleasant songs he entirely uproots the sorrow from the spirit, and moreover fills it with pleasure.
Again, "vinegar on soda" indicates the manner in which sadness — which Cassian in book 10 calls the rust of the heart — should be relieved and soothed through songs: namely by first singing to the one oppressed by sadness a song of mourning and sympathy, and then when he begins to be aroused and uplifted, by singing a song of joy. For vinegar signifies grief, and soda signifies joy and pleasure.
Hear Saint Gregory, Moralia book 3, chapter 10: "The order of consolation is that when we wish to lift someone afflicted out of his sorrow, we should first strive to harmonize with his grief by mourning; for one who does not harmonize with the sorrow cannot console the grieving person, because by the very fact that he differs from the afflicted person's grief, he is less accepted by the one from whom he is separated in quality of mind; but the spirit must first be softened so that it may agree with the afflicted person, and agreeing may cling to him, and clinging may draw him out. For iron is not joined to iron unless both are liquefied by the burning of fire," etc.
The very word "songs" (carmina) signifies the same thing. For just as a song consists of long and short feet, composed and measured precisely according to number and meter, so that not one syllable is superfluous or missing: so the consolation offered to one who is sad must be composed of cheering and sympathy and everything that needs to be said, so harmoniously and as if by a level, that nothing is either too much or too little, but the whole is like a skillfully crafted and measured song, or a musical harmony.
Second, if by "a very evil heart" you understand one greatly exasperated, angry, and indignant, explain it in a similar way, changing the name of sadness to the name of anger. For these two passions are related and intermingled; for anger commonly has sadness attached to it: for one is saddened and grieves over the evil because he grows angry; in turn, sadness has anger as its companion: for one is angered by the evil over which he grieves.
Some therefore explain it thus, as if to say: Just as vinegar sharpens the force of nitre so that it froths up, so biting songs, that is, taunts and insults, sharpen the malice of the heart, that is, its anger and indignation. For this, says Hugo, froths and boils with anger, crackles with murmuring. Hence to drench with vinegar means to sharply censure and bite, according to that saying of Persius:
"This Stoic, washed in the ear with biting vinegar."
And that saying of Horace, Book I of the Satires:
"But the Greek, after being drenched with Italian vinegar."
For Italian vinegar, no less than its wine, surpasses that of all other regions, being sharp and biting. Hence the proverb: "Etruscan vinegar;" for from sharp and excellent wine comes sharp and excellent vinegar. Here applies the maxim of Rabbi Simeon in the Pirke Avoth, that is, in the Apophthegms of the Fathers, chapter IV: "Do not," he says, "vainly attempt to soothe with gentle words one in whom the spirit of anger still boils; nor strive in vain to mitigate your friend's grief while the dead still lies stretched before his eyes, nor speak to one who is cursing himself in anger about the release from his vow, nor finally seek to see or console him in the heat of his calamity." Hence the friends of Job, coming to console him, wept "and sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him: for they saw that his grief was very great" (Job 2:13).
Others, and better, explain it contrariwise, as if to say: Just as vinegar moderated and tempered with nitre cures those with jaundice, whose bile overflows into their limbs, as I said a little earlier from Pliny: so likewise calm, gentle, sweet, and cheerful songs and sayings soothe and cure the anger of the heart. Hence St. Gregory Nazianzen, in his poem On Anger, teaches that anger is dissolved by pleasantries, laughter, and jests, just as ice is dissolved by heat, wax by warmth, the strength of wine by water:
"Attack the hot-tempered one," he says, "with jests: For against anger nothing is stronger than a joke."
An example is found in St. Francis, who during a serious dispute and hostility between the magistrate of Siena and his Bishop, sent his friars to sing to both parties with gentle melody a song or canticle, which he himself called the Canticle of the Sun, adding: "Praised be the Lord for those things which He grants me out of love;" by which melody of song, and much more by the man's charity and holiness, the quarreling parties were moved to compunction, laid aside their anger, and rushed into mutual embraces. So the Annals of the Franciscan Order relate, along with the Mirror of His Life, chapter XCVII.
Thirdly, if by "a very bad heart" you understand one that is extremely wicked and criminal, St. Gregory, Book I on Ezekiel, Homily 9, explains it thus: "If vinegar is poured upon nitre, the nitre immediately froths up and boils over: so also a perverse mind, when through rebuke is reproved, or when good things are urged upon it through the sweetness of preaching. For from correction it becomes worse, and then is inflamed to the iniquity of murmuring, when it ought to have been restrained from iniquity." St. Beda, following St. Gregory as usual, transcribed his words here. The minds of the worst and most obstinate, therefore, are not to be soothed with songs, that is, with gentle admonition, because through it they are exasperated, become more insane, and kick against the goad; but they must be wounded and crushed by terrible roaring, threats, and blows, and as it were struck down and shattered by thunder and lightning. Rabbi Solomon agrees: The song for a very bad heart, he says, is the law with which a wicked disciple is imbued by his teacher, which he will not keep, but from which he will become more wicked and worse.
Others explain it from the opposite perspective: Just as nitre instilled with vinegar heals infected ears and their ringing, as I already said from Dioscorides, Galen, and Pliny, and cleanses their impurities: so also sharp exhortations, admonitions, and rebukes, which Socrates in Plato's Charmides calls incantations and songs of the soul, although they are troublesome at first and bite sharply like nitre drenched in vinegar, afterwards they wipe away vices and wash out the filth of the soul, unless someone is utterly obstinate in them and incurable, and especially they heal the disturbances of the soul, which, like ringing in the ears, prevent one from hearing the truth. This biting endures until the part grows old and is covered with new skin. So Franciscus Valesius, Book On Sacred Philosophy, chapter LX. Here the Chaldean version applies: as one who casts vinegar upon nitre, so grief proves the heart, like a silver vessel. That is to say: Just as nitre infused with vinegar cleanses the tarnish from gold and silver vessels, and restores them to their original brightness and splendor: so likewise the grief inflicted by sharp rebuke, chastisement, toil, and affliction proves, that is, by proving, cleanses and purges the heart which has been covered with the rust of vices from idleness, luxury, and licentiousness.
For in Chaldean, "proves" is metsareph, that is, it smelts and by smelting purges, just as a goldsmith smelts in a furnace, and by smelting purges gold and silver from dross. Hence instead of "a silver vessel" you would better translate from the Chaldean: as silver in a vessel, namely a smelting pot, is refined and purged in fire; so that this is a new comparison distinct from the comparison of vinegar with nitre. Moreover, just as the sharpness of vinegar is blunted and tempered by nitre so that it may wash out impurities: so the sharpness of rebuke must be softened and seasoned with the gentleness and kindness of the one rebuking, so that it may cleanse the vices of the soul. Hence the Samaritan healed the wounds of the man going to Jericho, pouring on them oil and wine, namely the oil of gentleness and the wine of sharpness (Luke 10:34).
Here applies the version of the Septuagint: as vinegar draws out what is useless, so an affliction befalling the body saddens the heart. That is to say: Just as vinegar sucks out and draws nitre from nitrous soil, and thus makes sterile and brackish land fertile and fit for sowing and harvest, as Columella and others on agriculture teach: so likewise suffering and punishment inflicted on the body of a sinner saddens and moves his heart to compunction, and thus it brings forth the vices rooted within it, and restores it to health and virtue. The author of the Greek Chain reads from the Septuagint thus: As vinegar harms the teeth, and smoke the eyes: so a disease which befalls the body saddens the heart. This meaning is clear and evident in itself.
AS A MOTH TO A GARMENT, AND A WORM TO WOOD: SO SADNESS HARMS THE HEART OF A MAN.
This verse is absent in the Hebrew; it is transcribed from the Septuagint. The Chaldean has: as a moth (or woodworm) in wood, so foolishness irritates the heart of a man; Origen, on Matthew chapter XIII: as a worm in wood, so grief harms the heart of a man; St. Jerome, Book I Against Jovinian: as a worm in wood, so a wicked wife destroys her husband. For she is the cause of all sadness, so that she may rightly be called sadness itself (Sirach 25:17). Mystically, the wicked wife is a bad conscience, about which more shortly.
St. Augustine, Book XXI of The City of God, chapter IX: "As a moth the garment, and a worm the wood, so grief torments the heart of a man." Hence from this proverb he demonstrates that what is said of the damned in Isaiah 66 — "Their worm shall not die" — is fittingly understood as the grief which gnaws and torments the mind of the damned like a worm.
Now sadness is fittingly compared to a moth and a worm. First, because just as a moth gnaws at a garment, and a worm at wood, gradually and imperceptibly (so that the gnawing is not felt), and finally consumes it entirely: so likewise sadness gnaws at and torments the heart, both the bodily heart with the whole body, and the spiritual heart, namely the mind of a person, so gradually and imperceptibly that it finally consumes and destroys: for man's life resides in the heart. Hence that saying of chapter 17:22: "A sad spirit dries up the bones."
Second, because just as a moth is born in the garment itself and from the garment itself, and a worm in the wood and from the wood itself, consuming: and perpetual night, and deep darkness, and storm, and whirlwind; an unseen fever, burning more fiercely than any fire, and a battle that has no rest."
Add: A moth consumes itself along with the garment, like a woodworm: so likewise sadness feeds upon itself and devours itself. Hence Seneca, Book On Consolation to Marcia, chapter I: "Just as," he says, "all vices become entrenched unless they are crushed while they are rising: so also these sad and wretched afflictions, raging upon themselves, in the end are nourished by their own bitterness, and grief becomes the perverse pleasure of the unhappy soul."
Cassian provides a third analogy, Book IX On the Spirit of Sadness, chapter III: "For a garment," he says, "touched by the eating of moths, can no longer serve any worthy or honorable use; likewise wood hollowed out by worms will no longer deserve to be assigned to the adornment of even a modest building, but to the burning of fire. So therefore also the soul which is devoured by the most voracious bites of sadness will be useless for that pontifical vestment which the ointment of the Holy Spirit, descending from heaven first upon Aaron's beard, then upon the hem of his garment — according to that saying: 'Like ointment on the head, which descends upon Aaron's beard, which descends upon the hem of his garment' (Psalm 133); nor will it be able to pertain to the structure and adornment of that spiritual temple whose foundation Paul the wise architect laid, saying: 'You are the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in you' (1 Corinthians 3). The quality of whose timbers the bride describes in the Song of Songs, saying: 'Our beams are cypresses, the rafters of our houses are cedars' (Song of Songs 1). And therefore such kinds of wood are chosen for the temple of God as are both of sweet fragrance and incorruptible, and which can neither be subject to the corruption of age nor to the eating of worms."
Add: Just as a man dressed in a garment gnawed by moths does not dare to appear in public, and just as a beam eaten by worms cannot support the mass of a building but collapses under it and brings the whole house to ruin: so a sad man is unfit to appear in public and to conduct public business; he is equally unable to manage domestic affairs: therefore he succumbs to the cares of the household and brings his whole family to ruin with himself.
Hence Ovid, an exile and full of grief, Book I of the Pontic Epistles, thus laments:
"A ship is eaten away by the corrupting woodworm, As the wave of the salt sea hollows out the ocean rocks: So my breast endures the perpetual gnawing of cares, By which it is consumed with no end."
Fourth, moths breed in soft things, namely wool, just as woodworms in soft wood; so sadness breeds in a soft, weak, feeble, and fainthearted heart. Hear St. Basil, Homily On Thanksgiving: "As many worms are accustomed to breed in softer woods, just so anxiety itself insinuates itself into those people who are of a softer and inconstant disposition." Hence Pliny, Book XVI, chapter XLI:
"Woodworms," he says, "are prevented from breeding in some woods by bitterness, as in cypress, wild olive, and cedar; in others by hardness, as in boxwood." So too the strength of the heart, magnanimity, and firmness keep sadness at bay. But those who have a weak, small, depressed, earthly, and carnal heart, so that they gape after earthly riches and pleasures — these, when deprived of those things they so loved, immediately become sad and mournful. From those things, therefore, sadness arises, just as moths arise from earthly dust, decay, and rot.
The same dust, says Pliny, Book XI, chapter XXXV: "Creates moths in woolens (for linen does not suffer moths) and in clothing, especially if a spider is enclosed with them; for it thirsts and, absorbing all moisture, increases dryness." The same author, Book XXVII, chapter VII: "Wormwood," he says, "inserted among garments repels moths" by its bitterness; garlic cooked in honeyed vinegar drives them away with its sharpness, as the same author teaches in Book XX, chapter VI. And in Book XV, chapter VIII, he asserts that "a wardrobe should be sprinkled with olive-lees against woodworms and harmful creatures." So likewise a severe, lofty, and sublime life keeps sadness at bay: for sadness arises from idleness, sloth, dejection of spirit, and concupiscence. Hence St. Gregory, Book V on 1 Kings, chapter XIV, assigns the remedy for sadness as the contemplation and desire of heavenly goods:
"Thus," he says, "the vice of acedia, that is, weariness of heart, is driven away if heavenly goods are always contemplated. For the mind that joyfully beholds such delightful goods can in no way grow weary. For the oppressive evil of sadness is swallowed up by the field of spiritual joy; yet that spiritual joy does not infuse itself into the mind that does not know how to transcend the narrowness of temporal life through contemplation. And sadness is well overcome if the rewards of temporal labors are kept in view; because from where the chosen mind considers itself to be afflicted temporally, it hopes to rejoice eternally in the heavenly homeland."
It is therefore childish, foolish, and stupid to be sad over the loss of temporal things, when we know that through these we gain heavenly and eternal goods. Hence the Chaldean translates: as a woodworm to wood, so foolishness irritates the heart of man. Truly St. Bernard says in On the Interior House: "A bad conscience is the constant worm of pleasures and delights," because it constantly gnaws at those devoted to gluttony and pleasures, and takes away and eats up every sense of delight in them. Finally, Cassian, Book IX On the Spirit of Sadness, chapter XIII, prescribes this remedy for sadness: "We will thus be able to expel this most pernicious passion from ourselves if we keep our mind continually occupied with spiritual meditation, raising it up by hope of the future and by contemplation of the promised blessedness, etc. Enduring joyfully and immovably in the contemplation of eternal and future things, neither cast down by present misfortunes nor elated by prosperity, viewing both as transient and soon passing away, or, as others read, despising them."
Now sadness is manifold and arises from many causes, and this maxim of Solomon applies in every case. For sadness arises from many cares, worries, fears, and anxieties, which abound in busy people, especially Prelates and Princes, who are accordingly bored through as a garment and wood are bored by a woodworm. Indeed Charles V, when weary of governing he transferred all authority to his son Philip at Brussels, declared before the entire Senate of the Orders, shedding tears, that in the entire time of his rule he had not had even a quarter of an hour free from cares, troubles, and sorrows in which he could sincerely rest and relax and cheer his spirit.
But this corrosion of sadness is most clearly seen in sinners, in whom a bad conscience begets a worm, that is, the remorse of conscience, which perpetually gnaws at them so that they grieve, are anguished, and are tormented to the utmost. Hence St. Augustine, Book XXI of The City of God, chapter IX, explains this passage in reference to that worm which exists especially in the damned. And St. Jerome on Isaiah chapter 66: "The worm," he says, "that does not die is understood by most as the conscience of sinners, which torments those placed in punishments, because through their vice and sin they have lost the good of the elect, according to what is said: 'I was plunged in misery while the thorn is fixed.' And in Proverbs: 'The moth of the bones is an understanding heart;' and again under the obelus: 'As a moth the garment and a worm the wood, so grief torments the heart of a man.'" Just as the woodworm, therefore, as Plutarch attests in the Symposiacs, arises from putrefaction, so sadness is born from the putrefaction of conscience through sin.
Albert the Great, Book XIX, chapter XVIII On the Soul, reports that Avicenna wrote that he had a friend who, when he wished, could generate scorpions from rotting wood: so a sinner, when he chooses to indulge his corrupt inclination, creates scorpions and worms of sadness that gnaw at the soul. Pliny, Book XXVIII, chapter III: "Those once stung by a scorpion," he says, "are never afterwards stung by hornets, wasps, or bees. Let him be less amazed at this who knows that a garment which has been used at a funeral is not touched by moths." So the moth of acedia and sadness does not touch one who has a constant remembrance of death and of present and eternal death, where "their worm does not die, and the fire is not extinguished" (Isaiah 66). For this remembrance overcomes all labors, sorrows, and anguish that can produce sadness, and spurs a man on to undertake all difficult things with cheerfulness and courage. Therefore St. Isidore wisely says, Book III On the Supreme Good: "The conscience of God's servant," he says, "should always be humble and sorrowful, so that through humility it may not become proud, and through beneficial grief the heart may not be carried off to wantonness."
Furthermore, some understand by sadness envy, which grieves over another's good fortune, virtue, and prosperity, and therefore is nothing other than envious sadness, or sadness flowing from envy. For envy gnaws at and torments the mind of the envious person, just as a moth gnaws at a garment, and a woodworm at wood. Hence St. Chrysostom, Homily 45 to the People: "Such," he says, "is the malice of this vice that it first harms the one who gives it birth, and just as a worm born from wood first consumes the wood itself, so also envy first corrupts the very soul that gave it birth." And further: "Before being consumed by external enemies, he is all but consumed by the very vice that besieges him, and as if devoured by hidden teeth, he remains, so to speak, secretly consumed."
Therefore St. Basil, Homily On Envy, says: Philosophers compare envy to the rust that consumes bronze, and the rust that consumes iron. For in a similar manner envy eats away the envious person, according to chapter 14, verse 30: "Envy is the rotting of the bones." See what was said there.
Following Solomon as usual, Sirach chapter 25, verse 17 says: "Every wound is a wound of the heart." And chapter 30, verse 24: "Drive sadness far from you; for sadness has killed many, and there is no profit in it." See what was said there.
Both are echoed by the Philosophers. Menander in his Maxims: "Since," he says, "many evils cling to all men by nature, sadness is the greatest evil. There is no greater disease among human affairs than sadness, if one rightly considers, by its very nature." Apollodorus in the Paralogizomenoi: "He who has the most money should not be called happy, but rather he who is saddened." The same in the Galatians: "Sadness seems to me to be akin to madness;" indeed it has made and continues to make many people demented and insane. Phocion: "It is far better," he says, "to live lying on the ground with a good and quiet mind, than to be troubled in a golden bed." So Stobaeus, Discourse I On Prudence. Diogenes Laertius, Book VI: "Against fortune," he says, "set confidence of spirit; against law, nature; against passions, reason; for by these three, human tranquility is obtained and preserved." Aristippus used to say: "One should take care neither for the past nor for the future. For only the present is in our hands, not the past nor the future: for the former has gone, and whether the latter will come to pass is uncertain." So Aelian, Book XIV of Various Histories; Antonius in the Melissa, Part I, chapter LXXII; and Maximus, Discourse 28, cite Plutarch saying: "As you put a tunic under a breastplate, so you should put mind and reason under sadness;" and Theopompus: "If someone possessing great wealth passes his life in sadness, he is surely the most miserable of all men who are or who will be;" and Epictetus: "Time frees fools from grief, but reason frees the wise. He is wise who does not grieve over what is absent, but rejoices in what is present. Those who in the face of calamities are least sad in spirit and who most effectively resist in reality — these should be considered the most excellent both in cities and in private life;" and Euripides: "No life remains free from pain."
21 and 22. IF YOUR ENEMY IS HUNGRY, FEED HIM: IF HE IS THIRSTY, GIVE HIM WATER TO DRINK; FOR YOU WILL HEAP COALS OF FIRE UPON HIS HEAD, AND THE LORD WILL REWARD YOU.
By water and bread, in the Hebrew manner of speaking, any drink and food is understood. Elisha did this, when he gave this command to the king of Israel regarding the Syrians, his enemies: "Set bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink, and go to their lord" (2 Kings 6:22).
He seems to allude to physicians, who for those suffering from frenzy or apoplexy caused by cold, when they are rigid and numb, apply warm compresses and then a pot or brazier of coals to the head to dissolve this cold. In a similar way, enemies who are frozen and stiff with hatred must be warmed by a heap of kindnesses as by a brazier of coals, so that they may change the cold of hatred into the warmth of love. Hence St. Augustine, Sermon 163 On the Seasons: 'You will heap coals of fire upon his head.' "For when," he says, "he begins to do penance, the rational sense, that is, his head, begins to be kindled with the fire of charity; and he who before, as if cold and delirious, was accustomed to retain anger against you, kindled with spiritual warmth from your goodness, begins to love with his whole heart." 'And the Lord will reward you,' that is, He will repay you with the fruit of your beneficence, says Aben-Ezra; and He will compensate kindness with kindness, says Rabbi Levi.
Golden, therefore, is the teaching of St. Paulinus, Epistle 6 to Severus: "Remember," he says, "that a grain of mustard (from whose seed we are), if it is crushed, is kindled the more, and then at last is aroused to its full strength. Therefore we ought, as it were, to respond to our nature in this, so that when crushed by adverse words we may burn more ardently in faith, and may burn those very ones who try to break us as the least of men, namely, as a grain of mustard (which is the smallest of seeds)." This is the holy and effective revenge against an enemy — when you kill his hostility with the fire of love and make him your friend. Three goods, therefore, you will gain from it: victory over your enemy, the benefit of your neighbor, and a reward from your Lord. So also Saul, after he recognized his fault through David's kindness, saying: "You are more righteous than I: for you have given me good things, but I have repaid you with evil;" he added: "But may the Lord repay you this recompense, for what you have done for me today" (1 Samuel 24).
Plato learned the same from Solomon and the Hebrews, and Plutarch, who in his book On the Advantage to Be Gained from Enemies writes: "When Caesar," he says, "had ordered the fallen statues of Pompey to be raised again, Cicero said: By restoring Pompey's statues you have secured your own; for praise of an enemy wins greater praise for the one who praises than for the one who is praised, etc. And indeed what other exercise confers greater benefit or a better disposition upon our souls than that which removes from them envy and malicious rivalry?" Indeed Cicero himself defended in two public trials Gabinius, by whom he had been expelled from Rome, and Vatinius, who had always been hostile to him: "Because injuries are somewhat more nobly overcome by kindnesses than mutual hatreds by pertinacity is weighed," says Valerius Maximus, Book IV, chapter II. Where he recounts many Roman examples of this.
Symbolically the Rabbis, says Rabbi Solomon, explained this of the concupiscence and fuel of evil: If the evil inclination grows hungry and solicits you to satisfy its desire with crimes, withdraw yourself to the seat of the school, and there take care to satisfy its hunger with the bread of sacred law, and supply it with water, namely of the divine law. For they are like burning coals, which you take up and draw from such a station, to heap upon its head.
The author of the Greek Chain explains it thus, as if to say: If you feed and give drink to your enemy, you will burn him, namely the devil, who is the author of all enmity toward the enemy, because you will torment him and afflict him with the greatest pain. For our charity and holiness torments the devil, who burns with hatred, envy, and malice. However, these interpretations are neither literal nor sufficiently coherent.
The Apostle cites these two maxims in Romans 12:20, where I explained them at length; therefore I will not repeat them here.
23. THE NORTH WIND DISPERSES THE RAINS, AND A STERN FACE SILENCES THE SLANDERING TONGUE.
In Hebrew, "a tongue of concealment," that is, one that hides itself and slanders secretly in hidden fashion, biting like a serpent.
For "disperses" the Hebrew has techolel, which properly derives from chol, and means "will cause pain, will torment, will bring forth;" but if you derive it from chalal, it means "will wound, will kill, will destroy, will drive away, will scatter, will put to death." Hence there is a double translation here, with one diametrically opposed to the other. For many translate: "the north wind brings forth rain;" but others, contrary to these, translate with our Vulgate: "the north wind disperses or destroys rain." Following the former, the Chaldean translates: "the north wind conceives rain, so the face of an angry man and a hidden tongue conceive wrath, calumnies, and vengeance, which he pours out like rain and hail on the one against whom he is offended." The Septuagint: "The north wind stirs up clouds; but a shameless face" (in the Vatican manuscripts it reads "imprudent," apparently an error of the engravers), "harsh, immodest, brazen, bold, irritates the tongue." Aquila: "The north wind brings forth a storm." So also Rabbi Solomon and Rabbi Levi; Cajetan translates more clearly: "the north wind brings forth rain, and an angry face the tongue of slander."
Others, agreeing with the Vulgate, translate contrariwise as "prevents" or "disperses" instead of "brings forth." Hence Vatablus: "the north wind drives away rain, and a stern face the slandering tongue." For if with a stern face you show that it displeases you, the slanderer will fall silent, partly from shame and modesty, partly from the sting of a bad conscience, and partly because he wishes to please you and not to cause sadness for you or himself. Pagninus:
"As the north wind drives away the rains, so also an angry face silences the tongue that slanders in secret."
Both versions yield a true and fitting meaning. For the north wind in northern regions is sharp and drives away clouds and rains; but in southern regions, such as Judea, it gathers clouds and produces rain. Conversely, the south wind in northern places produces rain; but in southern places, such as Africa, it brings dryness and clear skies. So Rabbi Levi says: The north wind in Jerusalem brings moisture rising from the sea, since the sea lies to the west of Judea. Hear Aristotle, Book II of the Meteorology, chapter IV: "The north winds," he says, "are full of vapors, since they blow from moist and cold places, and are therefore cold; but in our regions they are the authors of pleasant and mild weather, because they beat down and absorb the clouds. In southern places, on the contrary, and in those regions opposite to ours, into which they drive the clouds, they are rainy." And again in the Problems, section XXVI: "The north wind," he says, "brings rain to the Hellespont and to Cyrene."
Moreover, natural philosophers teach — and indeed we often experience it in Rome and other places in Europe — that the north wind in summer from time to time gathers clouds, and from them draws forth downpours, hail, thunder, and lightning. Therefore you may translate and explain it thus, as if to say: Just as the north wind sometimes gathers clouds in summer and produces downpours and rain: so a slandering tongue produces the clouds of sadness and showers of tears.
Furthermore, just as the north wind sometimes stirs up hailstorms, lightning, and thunder: so the tongue of a slanderer stirs up anger and revenge — both of the one whose reputation is attacked, and of upright men, and of God Himself, whose wrath it inflames, says Rabbi Solomon: so also Cajetan.
But the Septuagint, which translates "the north wind stirs up clouds; but a shameless or harsh face irritates the tongue," may be explained thus, as if to say: A brazen-faced man provokes people's tongues against himself. Again, as if to say: If a Superior, Prince, or Prelate shows a harsh, surly, or insolent face to a subject or to anyone else, he irritates and provokes him, so that he collects within himself vapors of wrath and curses, which, given the opportunity, he hurls and shoots forth in volleys among his companions against the Superior himself, just as the north wind gathers clouds that erupt into hail, lightning, and thunder. Therefore Superiors who are excessively severe and morose are, by their harshness and severity, the cause of many sins for which they will render an account to God. For they goad their subjects into boldly bursting forth into insults and curses, and into the violation of obedience and vows.
The author of the Greek Chain mystically explains the Septuagint thus: The hard and untamed wind is the devil; for he, putting on a shameless face and a countenance devoid of all modesty, stirs up various temptations for Christ's faithful, and entices their minds to malice and vice, but also provokes their tongue to blasphemy.
Secondly, far better, our Translator, Pagninus, Vatablus, Aben-Ezra, and others translate contrariwise: "the north wind disperses rain, and a stern face the slandering tongue."
The north wind disperses rain, and a stern face the slandering tongue. For the north wind by its harshness commonly disperses clouds: so also a stern face disperses slanders; because, as Bede says: "If with a cheerful face you listen to a slanderer, you give him fuel for slandering; but if with a stern face you hear these things, as a certain man of God says, he learns not to speak willingly what he has learned is not willingly heard." For slanders are like dark clouds that obscure and darken the reputation of one's neighbor, which the south wind of loquacity brings on, according to that saying of Antonius in the Melissa: "As the Caecias wind gathers clouds, so the life of the pious draws upon itself the insults of the wicked." But these are put to flight and dispersed by the north wind — the severe and rigid wind of a stern and severe face.
Note first: A stern face, or as the Hebrew has it, an angry face, is fittingly compared to the north wind. First, because just as the north wind is harsh, fierce, dry, and dreadful: so also is a stern and angry face; conversely, just as the south wind is pleasant, agreeable, and moist, so also is a pleasant, cheerful, and happy face.
Second, just as the north wind chases away little clouds and clears the air and the land: so also a stern and indignant face chases away slanders and private and secret accusations, and makes everything clear, pleasant, and cheerful. For slanders are uttered by a "tongue of concealment," as the Hebrew has it, that is, one slandering covertly, secretly, and in hiding, which is therefore rightly compared to a shadow-casting cloud. For its upper part, as our Salazar says, which faces the sun, is white and bright, and by reflection sends the received rays back toward the sun itself in a manner; but its lower part, which faces the earth, is dark and obscure, pouring out the very brightness of the sun: not otherwise the slandering tongue presents a fair and pleasant face to those who are present, gladly adopts their praises, and strives to be approved by them in everything; but it blackens and obscures the reputation and fame of those who are absent, and dissolves entirely into their reproaches and censures.
Third, just as the north wind in summer sometimes stirs up hailstorms, lightning, and thunder: so also an angry face often erupts into quarrels, rebukes, and threats, by which it provokes, repels, and puts to flight the slanderer, and indeed from time to time strikes, wounds, and kills.
Hence Aben-Ezra translates the Hebrew techolel, that is, "disperses," properly and fittingly as "torments," as if to say: Just as the north wind, as it were, torments and inflicts pain and weakness upon the rain, when it so scatters and presses it that it is prevented from falling upon the earth, and indeed is entirely blown away and vanishes: so also an angry face torments the slanderer, and renders his evil tongue weak and feeble, so that he is neither able nor dares to speak evil.
Note: For "stern" the Hebrew has nizamim, that is, perturbed, angry, inflamed, indignant; for such a face drives away slanders more effectively than one that displays only sadness. And indeed, if the slanderer is a Superior or a man of great authority, it suffices to show him a sad face; but if he is an equal, lesser, or inferior person, one must openly say to him with a grave, severe, or angry countenance: If you bring good news about my neighbor, I gladly listen; if you wish to blurt out evil, I will not listen. This is what St. Jerome says, in his epistle to Rusticus: "As an arrow," he says, "if it is shot against a hard surface, sometimes returns to the one who shot it, and that saying is fulfilled: 'They have become to me a crooked bow.' And: 'He who throws a stone on high has it fall on his own head.' So the slanderer, when he sees the stern face of his listener — or rather of one who is not listening but stopping his ears — immediately falls silent, his face grows pale, his lips stick together, his saliva dries up."
But because the life of the Saints is the living interpretation of Scripture, and Scripture is better taught and learned by deed than by word, receive their examples for you to imitate. St. John the Almsgiver, if anyone slandered another in his presence, would put on a different expression; but if the person continued to slander, he would order his chamberlain to grant him no further access to himself, so as to instruct the rest through him. So Leontius in his Life.
St. Pachomius, hearing anyone slandering: "Turning away from him as from the face of a serpent, he would hastily withdraw, frequently citing that Psalm verse: 'The one who secretly slanders his neighbor, him I pursued' (Psalm 101). 'No good person,' he would say, 'brings forth anything evil from his mouth, nor speaks with venom against the holy fathers.' On this matter he would demonstrate from many Scriptures the indignation and offense of God. But he especially cited the example of Miriam, who as soon as she poured out complaints of detraction against Moses, could not escape the divine judgment." For, as is narrated in Numbers 12, she was struck with leprosy from heaven. So Dionysius in the Life of Pachomius, chapter XXVII.
Abbot Maches in the Lives of the Fathers, hearing slander, would immediately fall asleep. In the same work, Book III, number 133, Abbot Poemen, when asked "how can a man avoid speaking evil of his neighbor," replied: "I and my neighbor are two images; when therefore I have examined my own image and reproached myself, the image of my brother is found venerable in my eyes; but when I have praised my own image, then I see my brother's image as base. Therefore I do not slander another as long as I always reprove myself." Abbot Hyperichius said: "It is better to eat meat and drink wine than to devour the flesh of one's brothers with slander. For as the whispering serpent drove Eve from paradise, so he who slanders his brother destroys not only his own soul but also the soul of the one who listens." Abbot John used to say: "We have laid down a light burden, that is, reproaching ourselves, and we choose to carry a heavy one, that is, to justify ourselves and condemn others; for the one who examines himself praises his neighbor; self-reproach alone is a man's justice," says Abbot Poemenius.
Receive also the apophthegms of the Philosophers from Antonius in the Melissa, Part I, chapter LIII. Plutarch's: "Just as a hen, when it fell ill, asked how it was doing, as if from one well-disposed toward it, replied: 'Well, if you leave.' So to a person of this sort who starts a conversation about discord, and inquires, and digs up some secrets, one should say: But I find nothing to fault in my brother, provided neither I nor he listens to slanderers." Socrates said: "Do not admit a talkative person and a slanderer; for he does not act from benevolence, but just as he reveals the secrets of others to you, so too he will expose to others what you have said." Moschion said: "To be maligned by many wicked people is neither true nor harmful; but to be reproved by one good person is both true and useful." Demonax said: "When a certain sophist blamed him and said: Why do you speak ill of me? he replied: Because you do not despise the one who speaks ill."
24. IT IS BETTER TO SIT IN THE CORNER OF A HOUSETOP (Chaldean: in a corner of the roof; Syriac: upon the horns of the roof) THAN WITH A QUARRELSOME WOMAN IN A COMMON HOUSE.
The Syriac has: in a house of divisions. This verse is repeated here; for we heard it in chapter 21:9, where I explained it. For "in a corner" the Hebrew has al pinna, that is, upon a corner or peak; hence the Latin pinnaculum, that is, the summit of a house, as if to say: It is better to sit on the pinnacle of a roof, where you are most unpleasantly exposed to the extreme danger of falling, rain, and winds, than to dwell with a quarrelsome woman.
25. COLD WATER TO A THIRSTY SOUL, AND GOOD NEWS FROM A DISTANT LAND.
The conjunction "and" here, as frequently in this book, since it links similar things, means the same as "so" or "likewise," as if to say: Just as cold water is wonderfully pleasing to a thirsty soul, so also good news from a distant land is wonderfully pleasing to one who awaits or desires to hear it. For "news" the Hebrew has schmua, that is, hearing, report, announcement. But it comes to the same thing: for a good messenger is one who brings glad tidings to his hearers. For "thirsty" the Hebrew has iaeph, that is, weary, meaning one who is hot from weariness, exhausted, and thirsty. It is a metalepsis. The Hebrew therefore has word for word: cold waters upon a weary soul, and a good report from a distant land; the Chaldean: as cold waters to a weary soul, so good news from a remote land; the Septuagint: as cold water is most delightful to a thirsty soul, so also a good messenger who is at hand from a distant land wonderfully refreshes the same soul. So the author of the Greek Chain.
Rabbi Levi says: Just as the spirit, when succumbing to labor, receives singular benefit and profit from cold waters, by which the vital heat, which had been dispersed by exertion, is recalled to the inner parts of the body, so one draws singular benefit from a pleasant and good report brought to him from far-off regions about his relatives or friends; for this seems to recall the spirit, just as by cold waters the spirit overcome by labor is restored to life.
The purpose of this maxim is to teach, says Aben-Ezra, that everyone should relate happy and favorable things, and abstain from relating sad and unfavorable ones; furthermore, to admonish messengers, relatives, and friends to quickly write or deliver glad tidings to their own, whom they know to be eagerly and anxiously awaiting them.
The meaning therefore is, says Jansenius, as if to say: Just as cold water refreshes, revives, and restores a man who is panting greatly from weariness and thirst for water, and is nearly fainting, and renews his strength: so a good messenger returning from a distant land wonderfully delights one who has long awaited him and is now wearied by expectation, and nearly fainting from longing, and as it were by giving him drink satisfies his desire with pleasure, restoring the collapsed strength of his spirit. This is attributed here not to every good messenger, but especially to one who comes from a distant land, because as such he has been awaited longer and with greater anxiety: so upon his return he is heard and received with greater joy and eagerness.
This proverb is similar to that of verse 13: "As the cold of snow on the day of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to the one who sent him: he makes his soul rest." So Jacob, upon hearing the news that his son Joseph was alive and ruling in Egypt, his spirit revived (Genesis 45:27).
Our Salazar repeats "from a distant land" and applies it both to the cold water and to the good news. Although the proverb does not absolutely require this repetition, if added it makes the proverb more apt and vigorous, as if to say: Just as some traveler in a waterless place, parched with thirst and failing from weariness, unable to advance further to a spring, is refreshed by a drink of cold water brought from a great distance, and recovers his strength and spirit: so also a man situated far away, thirsting with desire for the thing hoped for, wearied by long expectation and falling from hope into excessive despair, when someone reliably reports that something good has been brought from afar, receives refreshment, strength, and spirit.
Mystically this proverb was truer and more salutary in spiritual messengers, namely the Prophets, who announced the coming of the Messiah, and by this most joyful news wonderfully refreshed the pious Jews who eagerly awaited Him — such as Isaiah. Hence in chapter 40:9 he says: "Go up upon a high mountain, you who bring good tidings to Zion; lift up your voice with strength, you who bring good tidings to Jerusalem; say to the cities of Judah: Behold your God; behold the Lord God shall come with might," etc. Such also was the Archangel Gabriel announcing to the Blessed Virgin the conception of the Word, who wonderfully refreshed her and all the faithful of all ages, saying: "Behold, you will conceive in your womb, and bring forth a son, and you shall call His name Jesus; He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High" (Luke 1:31). Such was the Angel announcing to the shepherds the birth of Christ: "Behold," he said, "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be for all the people, for unto you is born today a Savior, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David" (Luke 2:10). But above all such was Christ Himself, who, sent by the Father from heaven, brought and offered to the entire world the Gospel, that is, the glad tidings of grace and salvation, when the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. The angels also, says Bede, daily descending from a distant land, that is, from the heavenly homeland, either strengthen the just in temptation with hope of heavenly things, or when the contests of temptation are ended, lead them to the palm of perpetual reward. And Hugo says: "A good messenger is a good preacher announcing good tidings from a distant land, that is, from the heavenly homeland."
Anagogically, the author of the Greek Chain says: A message from heaven concerning the resurrection of the flesh and the certainty of the divine promises cannot but be most welcome to a just man, and delightful to a well-disposed soul. Surely no messenger can bring greater joy to a just man than one who announces to him heavenly glory and assures him of it. Hence St. Francis, upon receiving from heaven a message — indeed an oracle — concerning his predestination and salvation, exulted in spirit, and for seven continuous days, as though beside himself, could neither eat nor drink, but only sing and rejoice before God.
St. Nicholas of Tolentino, for six months before his death, heard each night the most sweet singing of Angels inviting him to heaven; hence he kept repeating that saying of the Apostle: "I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ" (Philippians 1). When the time of his dissolution was at hand, with his last breath he began to utter words of joy and exultation. When the Brethren present asked the cause of his unusual joy, he, astonished and scarcely in possession of himself because of the greatness of the thing, said: "My Lord Jesus Christ, leaning upon His holy Mother and our Father Augustine, says to me: 'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.'" With these words he breathed his last. St. Bernard writes similar things about the death of his brother Gerard, Sermon 26 on the Song of Songs. St. Gregory recounts similar things about the joyful tidings of blessed death and happiness given to Anthony, a monk of his monastery, to Merulo, and to many others, in Book IV of the Dialogues, chapters XLVII and following and preceding.
26. A FOUNTAIN TROUBLED WITH THE FOOT, AND A CORRUPTED SPRING, IS THE JUST MAN FALLING BEFORE THE WICKED.
In Hebrew: a fountain trampled by the foot and a spring cut off, is the just man wavering or falling before the face of the wicked; the Chaldean: as one who blocks a fountain and corrupts a spring, so is the just man falling before the wicked; the Septuagint: as if someone should block a fountain and destroy the outlet of water, so it is unseemly for a just man to have fallen before the wicked.
This proverb can be understood in two ways, namely of the twofold fall of the just man, that is, a fall into calamity and a fall into sin.
First, then, concerning the fall into calamity, Baynus and Jansenius explain it thus. By fountain and spring the same thing is meant: for the discussion is not about a vein of the human body, but rather about a vein of water, just as earlier when it says in chapter 10: "The mouth of the just is a vein of life." A fountain, which by its nature is most clear, most pleasant, and most useful, loses its clarity, grace, and usefulness when it is trampled and muddied by a foot, so that dust and mud are stirred up; or when it is otherwise corrupted by the casting in or mixing of some filth; or by the blocking of its vein, so that it either yields no water, or not abundantly, or not clearly. To this is compared the just man falling before the wicked — falling, I say, into prison, death, or some other calamity which the wicked man inflicts on him by persecuting him and casting him down into calamity. Baynus gives the fitting example of St. John the Baptist, who, thrown into prison by Herod and finally beheaded, was like a fountain trampled by the foot of Herodias and the dancing girl, muddied and corrupted, so that he could no longer give the people drink with the waters of saving doctrine and good examples. Herodias, then, trampled, corrupted, and suppressed this public fountain of doctrine that was pouring forth innumerable benefits upon the people, and that golden mouth which was the vein of life and of life-giving words — because she was reproved too freely by him for adultery — she blocked, shut up, and cut off.
Secondly, and better, you may understand this proverb of a fall into sin, as if to say: When a just man falls into sin in the sight of the wicked, he is like a muddied fountain and a corrupted spring — both because he offers a corrupt and evil example to others, and because the wicked man publicizes and exaggerates his fall, and thereby creates infamy for the fallen man and scandal for the people, both of which are often irreparable. Again, and rather, you may understand this fall of the just man before the wicked as meaning that the just man is driven into sin by the wicked — either by threats and punishments, or by flattery, promises, and bribes; for this is what the Hebrew mot implies, that is, to waver, to incline, to decline, to slip, to fall, to collapse — namely with the wicked man pushing him. Hence Vatablus translates instead of "falling," "yielding to the wicked." This happens in various ways, namely:
First, when a just man falls into adultery, fornication, or some other crime to please the wicked, or out of fear of or threats from the wicked. For the just man is like a mirror of virtue: therefore his behavior, words, and deeds effectively reveal and condemn the baseness and corrupt morals of the wicked, who, in order to remove this disgrace of theirs, strive with every effort to drag the just man into their net and crimes.
Second, when a just man, especially a Priest, Religious, Doctor, etc., because of the threats or promises of the wicked, abandons the truth of religion and becomes a heretic, so that he who was formerly a herald of the faith now becomes a herald of error — such as in the past century were Luther, Calvin, Brentius, etc., and in earlier times Origen, Tertullian, and Hosius, Bishop of Cordoba, president of the Council of Nicaea, who in old age, driven by the threats of the Arians, subscribed to the condemnation of St. Athanasius. Such a person is like a muddied fountain, indeed infected with lethal poison, so that he who formerly poured forth the waters of saving doctrine now pours forth deadly waters, and corrupts and destroys more people than he had converted and saved when he was orthodox. Hence Bede, the Gloss, and Aben-Ezra, linking this proverb to the next, explain it thus, as if to say: "It often happens that those who shone with greater knowledge, wanting in the end to know more than is granted to human frailty, fall into the pit of foolishness. Hence he adds: 'As one who eats too much honey, it is not good for him; so he who searches out majesty will be overwhelmed by glory,' so that, not grasping the mystery of one deity in the Holy Trinity, he falls, for example, into the heresy of Arius, Macedonius, or Sabellius.
Third, the just man here can be understood as a judge and magistrate who, corrupted by the threats or bribes of the wicked, renders unjust sentences and perverts justice. For one who was formerly a clear and limpid fountain of truth and justice, now corrupted by the mire of avarice or cowardice, becomes a muddy and filthy fountain of falsehood and injustice. Therefore he who perverts a just judge and makes him unjust does no less — indeed, far more — harm to the republic and the public good than one who corrupts, blocks, or destroys the public fountains of a commonwealth.
Bede understands the wicked man as the devil, who drives the just man to sin out of hatred both of God, of the just man, and of the rest of mankind. For the just man is like a pure fountain through which God causes true faith, examples of virtue, and His gifts and graces to flow forth to others; therefore the devil strives in every way to block or corrupt it, in order to prevent such great goods and to introduce three contrary evils, namely, injury and offense to God, the ruin of the just man, and the scandal of others. For the good life of the just man is like a fountain flowing with his continual praises through his honorable and holy works, which, when the devil intercepts, he simultaneously intercepts his praises and reputation. For, as St. Chrysostom says, Homily 24 to the People: "A man's good reputation flows from his good life, as from a fountain."
27. AS ONE WHO EATS TOO MUCH HONEY, IT IS NOT GOOD FOR HIM: SO HE WHO SEARCHES OUT MAJESTY WILL BE OVERWHELMED BY GLORY.
In Hebrew: cheker kebodam kabod, that is, the searching out of their glory is glory, or the searching out of their weight is weight. Which various interpreters translate and explain variously.
First, the Septuagint: to eat much honey is not good; but one ought to hold glorious words in esteem, that is, not searching them out curiously and proudly, but modestly admiring and venerating them with chaste silence, as St. Dionysius teaches in On the Celestial Hierarchy and On the Divine Names. Hence the author of the Greek Chain translates and explains thus: "As eating much honey is not good, so sublime doctrine ought to be tasted soberly and held in great esteem." He implies by this that the reasons behind divine judgments should be inquired into sparingly, and that doctrines handed down about such matters should not be indiscriminately proposed to all and as it were prostituted, but only to the worthy, and they should be held in great honor and reverence: so he says.
Second, Aben-Ezra translates: he who devotes himself to investigating the glory of the just will carry away glory, as if to say: Just as the excessive use of honey is harmful, yet moderate use is very beneficial: so he who moderately searches into the wisdom of the just will carry away glory; for in the wisdom of the just consists their glory and splendor; and this is what honey signifies, according to chapter 24:13: "Eat, my son, honey, because it is good, etc.: so also the doctrine of wisdom for your soul."
Third, Pagninus translates: as it is not good to eat much honey, so the investigation of diverse branches of knowledge is not glory, namely not true glory, but curious and vain.
Fourth, Cajetan translates thus: as eating much honey is not good, so on the contrary seeking the honor of others is honor. And he explains: The glory of those, he says, is the glory common to the whole community, college, city, or republic, as if to say: To hunt for one's own private glory, like eating much honey, is indeed sweet and pleasant, but useless and harmful; but to pursue and seek the glory of the community or republic is very useful and honorable.
Fifth, others translate: as eating much honey is not good, so searching out glories is not glory: namely, to hunt for one's own praises and glories is vanity, not truth; it is pride, not glory.
Sixth, most excellently and most profoundly our Translator renders: "As one who eats too much honey, it is not good for him: so he who searches out majesty will be overwhelmed by glory" — both because he subtly understood that for the proper formation and comparison of this sentence, in the Hebrew manner the negation "not" must be repeated, in this way: As eating too much honey is not good, so the searching out of their glory (that is, of divine things, which alone are pure and true glory) is not glory. Hence the Chaldean translates: to eat much honey is not good, nor to search out glorious words; and Vatablus: just as eating much honey is not good, so he who searches too much into their glory (supply: of heavenly and divine things, whence glory is usually sought), supply, it is not glory, it is not praiseworthy; and Symmachus: to investigate honor and glory for oneself, repeat, is not good, or much less is it good; Theodotion: for him who investigates through those things which are glorified, glory, repeat, is not good. cheker kabod miccabod, that is, the searching out of glory from glory, supply, will be overwhelmed; and for cheker, that is, searching out, he reads with different vowel points not choker, that is, a searcher.
To this belongs what some translate: to search out weighty things, that is, things weighty and difficult to understand, or glorious, is a weight, or is heavy, that is, the thing weighs down and overwhelms a man, as our Translator renders it. The meaning therefore is, as if to say: Just as eating honey — a thing most excellent in itself — is good; but if moderation in eating is not observed, it brings ruin, namely, pain, rupture, and death (for honey very quickly turns into red bile; hence those who use honey too eagerly often suffer dangerous inflammations): so although it is in itself good and pleasant to taste the divine majesty itself and the knowledge of any most excellent thing, whether in Scripture or elsewhere, yet to search into it beyond the measure suitable to nature or the intellect overwhelms and weighs one down by its brightness, plunging him into folly, madness, and error — no differently than the brightness of the sun blinds the man who looks directly at it, though it otherwise refreshes and illuminates. So Jansenius.
The analogy, therefore, between eating honey and searching out majesty consists in this: just as honey is heavy, and if taken in excess, weighs down and buries a man, so the majesty of divine glory is a vast and immense weight of glory, which dulls, weighs down, blinds, and overwhelms the weak eyes of the mind. Hence St. Gregory, Book XIV of the Morals, chapter XII, or according to another division, chapter XIV: "The sweetness of honey," he says, "if it is taken more than is necessary, while it delights the mouth, kills the life of the one who eats it. Sweet also is the searching out of the majesty of God; but he who desires to search it out more than the knowledge of humanity permits, is overwhelmed by His very glory, because, like honey consumed immoderately, it breaks the understanding of the one who searches, since it cannot be grasped." From St. Gregory, Bede transcribed these words.
Second, just as honey, being airy, is flatulent, and therefore if taken in excess, distends, inflates, and finally bursts the belly so that it ruptures: so also "knowledge puffs up, but charity builds up," says the Apostle. "Eating too much honey is not good; for knowledge inflates an ill-grounded mind more than it builds up," says Faustus of Riez in his epistle Against Nestorius. Just as too much honey turns into swollen gas and bloating, so too excessive speculation about divine things, born of pride, turns into arrogance and conceit.
Third, honey eaten to excess turns into bile, which sharply bites, presses, and torments the intestines, and sometimes kills and overwhelms: so also excessive speculation about divinity turns into errors and heresies, which burden and torment not only the one who speculates, but also many others, and not rarely the whole Church, and kill and destroy many. Furthermore, the honey of excessive speculation turns into bile, that is, anger, indignation, and envy, because speculating makes people wrathful, indignant, and envious, when they see themselves surpassed by others, and in turn it provokes and irritates the envy of others against them.
Fourth, too much honey turns into disgust, nausea, and vomiting: so too much study and too much investigation and contemplation of divine things wearies the brain, and from this begets a disgust for them, so that a man, nauseated by them and despising them, gives himself over to idleness, the flesh, and the belly, and becomes gluttonous and carnal, or becoming stupefied he becomes fanciful, delirious, and insane. Hence that saying: "All satiety is bad, but that of studies is the worst." And that of verse 16: "You have found honey; eat only what is enough for you, lest perhaps being sated you vomit it up." See what was said there.
Fifth, honey represents the immense sweetness of the divine majesty, which can only be received by the strongest stomachs, that is, the minds of the Blessed.
Sixth, honey is heavier than oil, wine, vinegar, and other liquids, which therefore float on top of honey. Hence Galen, Book I On the Natural Faculties of Foods: "Honey," he says, "by its weight sinks below the other foods and descends to the bottom of the stomach." So likewise the majesty and glory of God is a burden and weight heavier than all things — indeed, it anchors, weighs down, and stabilizes all things. Hence in Hebrew there is the enigma cabod cobed, that is, glory is weight, which, being heavy in itself, makes all things heavy. All these things can easily be applied to the honor and glory that men vainly pursue. For the Hebrew, punctuated as the Vulgate punctuated it, has word for word: the searching out of glory from glory, namely, one will be overwhelmed.
Finally, treating this proverb of Solomon discreetly and wisely, St. Bernard, Sermon 62 on the Song of Songs, teaches that humble men devoted to contemplation should not fear this saying, nor on its account abstain from contemplating the divine majesty. He gives three reasons:
The first is that this saying was directed against the proud and arrogant: "Nor should you fear," he says, "what Scripture threatens to those who search out majesty; only bring a pure and simple eye, and you will not be overwhelmed by glory but admitted to it, unless you seek not God's glory but your own. Otherwise each person is overwhelmed by his own glory, not God's, since being inclined toward his own, he is not permitted to lift his head toward God's, weighed down as he is by desire. Once this is shaken off, let us securely search into the Rock, in which the hidden treasures of wisdom and knowledge lie. If you still doubt, hear the Rock itself: 'Those who work in me will not sin' (Sirach 24:31). 'Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly and rest' (Psalm 55:7)? There the gentle and simple find rest, where the deceitful is overwhelmed, or the proud and the seeker of vain glory."
The second reason, because such a soul is a searcher not so much of the divine majesty as of the divine will: "She is not overwhelmed," he says, "because she is not a searcher of majesty but of the will; for as regards the majesty, sometimes indeed she dares to gaze upon it, but as one admiring, not as one scrutinizing; and even if it sometimes happens that she is caught up into it by ecstasy, it is the finger of God graciously lifting the man up, not the rashness of man insolently invading the heights of God. For when the Apostle recalls that he was caught up, in order to excuse the daring, what other mortal would presume to entangle himself by his own efforts in this dreadful scrutiny of the divine majesty, and as an importunate contemplator to burst into awesome secrets? Those who search out majesty are therefore rightly called intruders, I believe — not those who are caught up into it, but those who break in. They themselves, therefore, are overwhelmed by glory. The searching out of majesty, then, is fearful; but that of the will is as safe as it is pious. Why should I not with all diligence press on in searching out the sacred mysteries of the glory of that will, which I know I must obey in all things?"
He adds a third reason: that such a soul is not so much overwhelmed as imprinted and conformed to the glory of God. "That glory will not overwhelm me," he says, "even though I strain toward it with all my strength; rather I will be imprinted upon it. For beholding with unveiled face, we are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord. We are transformed when we are conformed. But far be it that conformity of man to God should be presumed to lie in the glory of the majesty, rather than in the modesty of the will. This is my glory, if ever I should hear said of me: 'I have found a man after My own heart' — the heart of the bridegroom, the heart of his father. What heart exactly? 'Be merciful,' He says, 'as your Father also is merciful' (Luke 6:36). This is the form that the Church desires to see when it says: 'Show me Your face' — the form of piety and gentleness."
Following Solomon, Sirach, chapter 3:22: "Do not seek what is higher than you," he says, "and do not search into what is stronger than you." See what was said there.
There exists on this subject an elegant emblem in Alciato, inscribed: "What is above us is nothing to us." An emblem, I say, of a most voracious eagle eating the liver of Prometheus, signifying that those who curiously search out the heavenly majesty and divine things are sharply punished by God. Its verses are these:
"Prometheus, hanging forever from the Caucasian rock, Has his liver torn by the beak of the sacred bird of prey: And he wished he had not made man, and cursing the potter's art, He condemns the torch kindled from stolen fire. The hearts of the prudent are gnawed by various cares, Who strive to know the ways of heaven and of God."
Again, the owl delights in darkness and cannot endure the light of the sun; but the eagle cheerfully and with profit fixes its eyes upon the radiance of the sun. While you are a lowly owl and have not yet advanced to the spiritual life, nor tamed yourself and your passions, look upon the darkness of your sins, that you may weep for them. But when you have become an eagle and have advanced to great virtue and contemplation, you will contemplate the divinity, so that you may be set ablaze with love.
28. LIKE AN OPEN CITY WITHOUT THE CIRCUIT OF WALLS, SO IS A MAN WHO CANNOT RESTRAIN HIS SPIRIT IN SPEAKING.
The phrase "in speaking" is not in the Hebrew, nor in the Chaldean and Septuagint. The Hebrew therefore reads thus: a city broken down (Chaldean: destroyed) without a wall, is a man who has no restraint for his spirit; Cajetan: a man who has no resistance of spirit; others: mastery or dominion over the spirit; others: closure or enclosure of the spirit. For the Hebrew matsar signifies dominion and command, by which one prevails over some thing, e.g. the spirit, so as to be able to retain, restrain, check, constrain, and confine it at will.
You ask, what is this spirit? First, Vatablus understands it as anger; for anger is a vehement impulse driving a man to harsh words, threats, gestures, and blows, as if to say: Just as a city stripped of its walls, whose wall has been broken down, is not safe from enemies but lies open to their attacks: so also one who is prone to anger and unable to restrain it lies open to the attacks of the many evils that anger suggests.
Second, some Rabbis understand by spirit pride: for the proud carry lofty spirits and swell with the vanity and spirit of arrogance. These, then, since they indulge this spirit of theirs, lie open to the attacks of enemies and of all evils into which pride is accustomed to plunge a man, and therefore they are like a city stripped of its walls and exposed to enemies: for humility is the wall of virtues and of all goods for a man, and it is invincible, protecting a man most strongly against all the assaults of the devil and the world.
Third, others adequately understand by spirit in general any affection, craving, urge, and impulse of the soul, especially when joined with vehemence, impetuosity, itching, and ardor, which the Greeks call hormē, the Latins call spirit or fervor of the soul. This is generic and extends broadly: for it comprehends various species under itself. For one spirit, that is, one craving, drive, and impulse, belongs to gluttony; another to lust; another to anger; another to envy; another to curiosity; another to avarice; another to pride, etc. He therefore who cannot check, suppress, confine, restrain, bridle, or govern these, but indulges them — indeed, allows himself to be ruled and carried away by them — is like a city whose walls have been broken down, so that anyone may freely enter and leave it, and therefore it lies open and exposed to the treachery, plunder, and devastation of enemies. For he who gives free rein to his desires and grants them excessive liberty, and does not restrain them with the bridle of reason and the fear of God, allows many evil things to be committed by them which create ruin for himself, and such a man is exposed to his enemies, namely the demons, and to whatever wicked persons, who for that reason can easily subjugate him and draw him to their will. On the contrary, one who restrains his passions with the rampart of the fear of God and the reins of right reason is like a well-walled city, from which actions do not freely go forth, and into which the attack of enemies cannot easily penetrate.
So Rabbi Levi says: A man who cannot command himself at will is like a conquered city, stripped of its walls, whose entrance is not guarded against robbers by careful watch. He therefore who does not moderate the reins of his will is exposed to very many calamities, because he falls into the power of his desires and will; but he who commands his desires takes the place of a wall: for he prevents the fierce plunderer from entering the soul through base desires.
Therefore every person's entire effort should be to learn to master his appetites, even the good and spiritual ones, to learn to moderate, govern, check, and direct them according to the prescription of right reason and discretion. For this is the prudent, wise, pure, patient, perfect, imperturbable man, master of himself, an angel in the flesh, indeed a kind of earthly god. Therefore in this matter the ancient Ascetics and Anchorites expended all their effort and their lives, so that through it they might attain purity of heart, in which perfection consists, and might guard their heart untouched by all disturbances, and offer it to God as a holocaust, as Abbot Moses teaches in Cassian, Conferences I, chapters VI and VII.
Our Translator, by adding "in speaking" (so also Aben-Ezra), restricted this proverb and the general spirit to the spirit and itch of speaking: because this in a man who is desirous and burning with passions is most vehement and most difficult to restrain; and because it corresponds to all the passions and tacitly comprehends them within itself: for all passions most fully express themselves through speech and the tongue. Therefore he who cannot restrain his tongue — this is a sign that he cannot restrain his passions; and conversely, he who cannot restrain his passions finds it impossible to restrain his tongue from revealing and betraying them through angry, desirous, proud, etc., words. Such a man therefore exposes himself to the attacks of a thousand evils that an uncontrolled tongue begets, and is like a city stripped of its walls, lying open to any enemy for entry and plunder.
Hence Philo, in On the Sacrifices of Cain and Abel: "Just as," he says, "the strongest defense of cities consists of brave men standing in place of walls: so also in the city of each of us, which is composed of soul and body, thoughts that are friends of prudence serve as the strongest bulwark." Hence also the author of the Greek Chain clearly translates from the Septuagint: a man who undertakes anything without discrimination is like a ruined city, deprived of walls and ramparts.
Hence St. Gregory in the Pastoral Rule, Part III, admonition 15: "The soul," he says, "exposes itself entirely to the wounds of the lurking enemy, which no fortification of guardianship encloses. Hence it is written: 'Like an open city, etc.' Because it does not have the wall of silence, the city of the mind lies open to the enemy's darts; and when it casts itself out beyond itself through words, it shows itself open to its adversary, whom the adversary overcomes with so much less labor insofar as the one who is conquered fights against herself through much speaking." With a similar expression, says Jansenius, it is said in chapter 29:11: "The fool utters all his spirit." And certainly one who is so intemperate of tongue or mind as to say anything anywhere without the restraint of reason is well compared specifically to a ruined city, lying open and lacking walls — because no secret lies hidden in him, but everything is poured forth from the city of the heart with excessive liberty, often to the man's greatest detriment; and such a man lies easily open and subject to the injury of those who wish to harm, so that he is caught and ensnared by his own words. The proverb therefore warns that each person ought to regard himself as a kind of city against which many lie in ambush, and therefore he must restrain with certain bridles, as with walls, all the movements and affections of the soul, and especially the tongue — both so that things that should not go forth from a man do not go forth, and so that those who should not be admitted do not enter, and those whom it is not fitting for us to have as masters do not rule over us.
Truly Henry Harphius, Book I on the Song of Songs, Part II, chapter XXXV, listing the damages of an unrestrained tongue: "Much speaking," he says, "is the mark of foolishness, the minister of falsehood, the guide of buffoonery and frivolity, the drinker of slander, the extinguisher of compunction, the creator of acedia, the dissipator of devotion, the obscuring of prayer, the cooling of warmth and fervor, the extinguisher of peace, and the destroyer of all uprightness."
You ask: what is the wall or enclosure of the spirit and tongue, fencing it in and keeping out enemies?
First, St. Chrysostom, in his homily to those about to be baptized, replies that it is the lips and teeth: "Let the tongue be armed," he says, "against your own sins, let it not be prepared against the wound of your brother, and for this reason God willed it to be surrounded as by a double wall: for it is contained by the covering of the teeth and the guard of the lips, lest words be uttered with heedless chatter. Restrain your tongue, therefore, and if it will not endure being silent, let it be quieted by the bite of the teeth, and as it were handed over to the teeth as to an executioner."
This is the physical wall of the tongue, namely the restraint of the lips and teeth: now receive the ethical wall of the same. Second, others consider this wall to be the restraint of reason, counsel, law, and the fear of God. Hence the Septuagint translates: as a city having its walls cast down and not walled, so is a man who does nothing with counsel. Cassian cites this proverb according to the Septuagint, Conferences II, chapter IV, and by counsel he understands discretion and prudence, by which the whole structure of the virtues is built.
Third, others consider this wall to be the continence of the tongue, moderation in speaking, and silence. So St. Gregory, in the words already cited. And Isidore of Pelusium, Book I, epistle 207 to Cassian, citing and explaining this proverb of Solomon, says: "Not to restrain the tongue is to leave the gate open to the enemy." Wittily, Blessed Peter Damian, epistle 39 to Desideratus, says that violators of silence are like the yawning crocodile, into whose jaws the enemy ichneumon (Pliny attributes these stratagems to the ichneumon) enters and gnaws away its belly. Likewise the oyster opening namely the religious) lives as long as it is enclosed under the guard of silence: but it perishes when it is opened too immoderately for speaking." its shell incautiously to the sun, where the crab first lies in wait and throws in a pebble to prevent it from closing, then devours its flesh; then he concludes: "He who (the Religious)