De arte praedicatoria

Preaching is the open and public instruction of morals and faith, serving to inform mankind, proceeding from the path of reasons and the fount of authorities.

Preaching must be open, because it is to be set forth openly. Hence Christ says: What I tell you in the ear, preach upon the housetops.¹ For if preaching were hidden, it would be suspect, and would seem to smack of heretical teachings. For in their secret gatherings heretics preach in a concealed way, so as more easily to deceive others.

It must be public, because it is to be set forth not to one person but to many. For if it were set forth to only one person, it would not be preaching but teaching. For this is the difference between preaching, and teaching, and prophecy, and civic exhortation. Preaching is that instruction which is given to many, and openly, and for the instruction of morals; teaching, however, is that which is given either to one or to many, for the learning of knowledge; prophecy is an admonition given through the revelation of future things; civic exhortation is a public admonition made for the strengthening of the commonwealth.

By the fact that preaching is called instruction in morals and faith, two parts of theology are implied: the rational, which pursues knowledge of divine things; and the moral, which promises instruction in conduct. For preaching now instructs in divine matters, now in morals, which is signified by the angels ascending and descending, for these angels are preachers, who ascend when they preach heavenly things, and descend when through moral teaching they conform themselves to those beneath them.

By what follows, serving to inform mankind, the final cause, or the usefulness of preaching, is signified. And because preaching ought to be supported by reasons and strengthened by authorities, it is accordingly added: proceeding from the path of reasons and the fount of authorities.

Preaching in itself ought not to contain scurrilous or childish words, nor the melodies of rhythms and the harmonies of meters, which are made rather to soothe the ears than to instruct the mind, which sort of preaching is theatrical and mimic, and therefore to be despised in every way. Of such preaching the prophet says: Your innkeepers mix water with wine.²

In that kind of preaching water is mixed with wine, in which childish and scurrilous words, and words that somehow effeminate the mind, are placed. For preaching ought not to shine with the trappings of words, with the ornaments of colors, nor ought it to be too cast down with overly bloodless words, but rather:

The blessed have held the middle way.

For if it were too painted, it would seem contrived with excessive study, and rather worked up to win the favor of men than for the benefit of one's neighbors, and thus it would move the minds of the hearers less. Those who preach in this way are compared to the Pharisees, who enlarged their fringes and widened their phylacteries.³

Such preaching, however, may be called suspect, yet not to be despised, but tolerated. Hence the Apostle says: Whatever the occasion by which Christ is preached, in this I rejoice, and will rejoice.⁴ Nor should things be inserted for the greater praise of Christ, because Christ is no less angered by false praise than by denied truth. Such is usually the preaching of heretics, who set forth true things and then insert false ones, of whom it is said: The Lamiae have bared their breasts, they have suckled their young.⁵

The Lamiae have the faces of virgins, but the feet of horses. Horses' feet do not split into a hoof, but fix themselves firmly to the ground. By the Lamiae, then, heretics are understood, who put forward the face of a virgin, but conclude with the sting of a scorpion. For first they set forth true things, and then conclude with false ones; and they have horses' feet, because in the affections of their mind they are not divided in the love of God and neighbor, but fix all their affections upon earthly delights. Such preaching is to be utterly rejected, because it is vicious and pernicious.

In its content, however, preaching ought to have weight, so that by the force of its statements it may soften the minds of the hearers, stir up the mind, produce contrition, rain down teachings, thunder with threats, coax with promises, and thus tend wholly toward the benefit of one's neighbors. For there are some who make the end of their preaching an earthly reward; the preaching of these is mercenary. Such men are rather hirelings than preachers, and yet their preaching is to be heard and tolerated.

Hence the Lord says: Do what they say, but do not do what they do.⁶ There are three kinds of preaching. One is in word, of which it is said: Go, preach the Gospel to every creature, etc.⁷ Another is in writing, whence the Apostle says he preached to the Corinthians,⁸ because he wrote them letters. Another is in deed, whence it is said: Every action of Christ is our instruction.

This, moreover, ought to be the form of preaching, that its beginning be taken from theological authority, as from its own proper foundation, especially from the Gospels, the Psalms, the Epistles of Paul, and the books of Solomon, because in these moral instruction especially results. From the other books of sacred scripture, authorities are to be taken if they are necessary and useful to the purpose.

Next, the preacher ought to win the goodwill of his hearers, both from his own person through humility, and from the usefulness of the matter he sets forth, saying that he sets before them the word of God so that it may bear fruit in their minds, not for earthly gain, but for their advancement and profit; not that he is stirred by the empty shouts of the crowd, not that he is soothed by a favorable breeze, not that he is charmed by theatrical applause, but so that their minds may be shaped, and so that they themselves ought not to consider who speaks, but what is spoken. For in a thornbush one ought not to consider the roughness of the thorn, but the loveliness of the rose, for even in the fragile reed honey is found, and from stone a flame is struck. Next he ought to show how useful it is to hear the word of God, if it is put into effect.

He ought also to promise that he will say few things, and useful ones, and that he is drawn to this by nothing but love of his hearers, and also that he does not speak because he has greater knowledge or prudence, or a better life, but because sometimes things are revealed to a lesser person that are not revealed to a greater; and then the greater ought to keep silence, and because sometimes the greater are unwilling to preach, it is no wonder if the lesser sometimes stammer, for if the learned keep silent, the stones will speak, or cry out.

Next he ought to proceed to the exposition of the authority he has proposed, and bend the whole of it toward the instruction of his hearers; nor should he set forth an authority too obscure or difficult, lest the hearers grow weary of it, and so listen less attentively. Nor, in the exposition of the authority, should he depart too quickly from his purpose, lest the beginning not agree with the middle, nor the middle with the end. He ought also to bring in other authorities to establish the same point, especially those that pertain to the purpose. He may also, on occasion, insert sayings of the pagans, just as the apostle Paul sometimes inserted the authorities of philosophers in his Epistles, for it will hold an elegant place, if a skillful joining renders the word new.

He should also insert moving words, which soften minds and produce tears. Let the sermon be concise, lest prolixity produce weariness. But after the preacher has judged that minds have been softened, and that tears are flowing, and faces are humbled, he ought to linger a little, but not too much, for as Lucretius says: "Nothing dries more quickly than a tear."

At the end, indeed, he ought to use examples, to prove what he intends, for exemplary teaching is familiar and appealing. For example:

If the preacher wishes to invite his hearers to contempt of the world, let him bring forward in the midst this authority: Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity, etc.¹ For what authority so conveys the vanity of worldly things, and the worthlessness of men, that all things are slippery and nothing stable, as this authority does?

According to this authority, he ought to distinguish a threefold vanity of the world. For there is the vanity of changeableness, the vanity of curiosity, and the vanity of falsehood. The vanity of changeableness is that according to which all things by nature are subject to change, of which the Apostle says: Every creature is subjected to vanity.²

The vanity of curiosity is that according to which a man spends all his care upon worldly things. Hence: The Lord scatters the thoughts of men, because they are vain.³ Of which Persius the comic poet says:

O the cares of men, O how much emptiness there is in things!

The vanity of falsehood is the curiosity of lying, of which it is said: Everyone has spoken vain things to his neighbor.⁴ Thus the preacher ought to strengthen with authorities every division he proposes, otherwise the whole division is wavering and unstable.

Next he ought to show where there is vanity, where the vanity of vanities, where all is vanity, this is plain in all worldly things. For if riches come to a man, there is vanity, because they quickly pass away; if they stay, they take the man away from himself, behold the vanity of vanities; if they depart, all is vanity. In riches there is the vanity of changeableness, because they pass away; the vanity of curiosity, since men spend all their care upon them; the vanity of falsehood, because for the acquiring or keeping of riches men vomit forth lies.

Where is there greater vanity than in riches, which, though they promise blessedness, take it away, which promise security but bring on fear? Where is there greater fear than among the rich, who dread everything lest they lose their riches? They do not trust their sons, a wife's love is suspect, they fear their betters, they shrink from thieves, they dream false things, they disbelieve true ones. Where is there greater vanity than in riches, which promise satiety and produce hunger, which from thirst bring drunkenness, which do not diminish desires but rather add to them, which do not fill the mind but drain it, which are, I know not by what emptiness, full, and by what fullness, empty?

Where is vanity if not in honors, which favor a man for this purpose, that they may cast him down, which raise him up for this purpose, that they may destroy him, which lift him up for this purpose, that they may thrust him down more heavily? In these is the vanity of vanities, because there is an unbearable burden in honor, a puffed-up honor in the burden, and in them all is vanity when they utterly depart from a man.

There is vanity in worldly enticements when they first flatter, the vanity of vanities when they grow tiresome, and all is vanity when through them we are led to death. First they make honey, second they sting, third they destroy. Likewise falsehood is in venial sin, the falsehood of falsehoods in mortal wrongdoing, and all falsehood in the obstinate sinner. Falsehood in punishment, the falsehood of falsehoods in guilt, all falsehood in hell.

Abhorring vanity, therefore, and fearing falsehood, let us run to the highest truth, that is, to God, in whom is the truth of truths, through the fulfillment of promises, in whom all is truth, because he himself is all in all the saints.⁵

Having thus proved contempt of the world through the disposition toward temporal things, he ought to prove the same from the final cause, which consists in two things, namely, the obtaining of advantage and the avoidance of disadvantage. Through the obtaining of advantage, contempt of the world is proved thus: O man, if you have despised the world, you will have God, who is the world's founder and lord, as your reward. Through the avoidance of disadvantage, contempt of the world can be proved thus: O man, if you have despised worldly and vain things, fear will not shake you, hope will not slacken you, sadness will not constrain you, joy will not dissolve you; you will serve no one, you will be free, you will not fear the assault of adversity, your conscience will be serene, you will await the coming of death peacefully; death will be welcome, and after death your expectation will be blessed.

But if you have clung to worldly pleasures, entangled in earthly enticements, your conscience will be seared, death hateful, and after death you will be shut up in eternal punishment. What then will be your state of mind, O man, when in death itself demons will appear to you, horrible enemies, waiting to carry your soul away into hell, and those whom in life you found flattering, in death you will find raging? Where then will be your delights? Where your earthly friendships? Where your worldly pleasures? From riches will follow eternal poverty, from honors, downfall, from pleasures, everlasting bitterness.

After this, let the preacher conclude his admonition with exemplary teaching, showing how the ancient Fathers despised the world, and yet the world then flourished, when it was withering in their hearts; but now, since the world itself is withering, it ought not to flourish in our hearts, but we ought to flee what is fleeting, and abandon what is falling, lest we fall with what is unstable, lest we collapse with what is in motion.

If the preacher intends to invite his hearers to contempt for themselves, let him bring forward this authority: Remember, my son, your last things, and you will never sin.¹ Or this one: I am a worm, and not a man.² Or certainly this one: Man born of woman is full of many miseries,³ etc., or something similar, in which human misery is expressed.

He should proceed thus: remember your own last things, remember the last things of the world, remember the last things of the day. Remember your own last things, considering that your conception is guilt, your birth a kind of punishment, your life a state of penalty, your dying a necessity: for whatever life you have is either destined to leave you, or threatens its departure, while death is either imminent, or threatens its imminence. So then, why should man be proud, whose conception is guilt, whose birth is punishment, whose life is toil, whose death is necessary?

O man, remember that you were once flowing seed, how you are now a vessel of filth, how you will become food for worms. After death a worm will be born from the tongue, to mark the sin of the tongue; roundworms from the stomach, to signify the sin of gluttony; a scorpion from the spine, to signify the sin of lust; a toad from the brain, to signify the sin of pride. You are then a worm, man born of earth; a worm while you live, because intent on earthly things; a worm when you die, because given as food to worms. Remember, o man, that you are earth, and to earth you will go, for you are ash and will return to ashes; for you are dust, and will be reduced to dust. In your own person Job said: I have said to rottenness, You are my father; to worms, my mother and my sister.⁴

O man, remember the last state of your beauty, how all flesh is grass, and all its glory like the flower of the field,⁵ for:

Beauty is a fragile good, and the more the years advance, the smaller it becomes, worn away by its own passing time.

Remember how death destroys it, how the scratch of a single needle ends it, how sickness wears it down, how old age plunders it.

If you boast of strength, remember the last state of your strength, how old age weakens it, sickness saps it, death utterly roots it out. If you boast of wisdom, hear what the Lord says through Isaiah: I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and I will reject the prudence of the prudent.⁶ And elsewhere: The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.⁷ Consider how knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.⁸ Consider how the philosophers, through the things that were made, understood the invisible things of God, but because they became vain in their thoughts, they were given up to a reprobate mind.⁹ If you boast of your lineage, remember the last state of every lineage, how:

Every kind of man rises up from a like origin.

Since there is one condition for all in being born, and one conclusion in dying; since nobility that is achieved is better than nobility that is merely born, because the latter is more general, the former more truly noble.

From the rule of death not even the purple of the king is exempted, since death strikes equally at the heights of kings and the huts of the poor. If you boast of riches and earthly pleasures, consider that they are more like snares than friendships, toward which you ought rather to be watchful and fearful than secure. Consider that you came out naked from your mother's womb, and naked you will return there.¹⁰

Learn to open the house of your mother to poverty, to hold pleasures under the yoke of reason; the fruit of earthly goods is only on the surface, and the shine of base metals stands out on the surface; but the richest things are those whose vein lies hidden in the depths, ready to respond ever more fully to one who keeps digging. Direct your mind to these heavenly treasures, so that where your treasure is, there your heart may also be: Do not, then, store up treasures on earth, where thieves dig through and steal, but store up treasures in heaven, which neither rust nor moth destroys.¹¹ For as Seneca says: "These things in which the common crowd delights have only a thin and superficial pleasure; and whatever joy the living have lacks any foundation." Learn then, and trample underfoot those things that shine outwardly, which are permitted to you by another or from another. Strive toward the true good, and rejoice in what is your own.

Do not boast of a fine garment; for what glory is there in the fleece of sheep, and the dung of worms? What use is there in preparing the mud of the body, in gilding the dung-heap of the flesh? Remember, then, your own last things, in the book of knowledge, so that you may read yourself in the book of experience, so that you may find yourself in the book of conscience: so that the book of knowledge written in a codex may reprove you, and the book of experience written in the heart. In the book of knowledge you read: "Know yourself"; in the book of experience you read: "The flesh fights against the spirit";¹² in the book of conscience you read:

With unresting wings there flies about, the harsh day of the soul.

O man! see yourself in a threefold mirror, and you will be displeased with yourself. There is a threefold mirror in which you must see yourself. The mirror of Scripture, the mirror of nature, the mirror of the creature. In the mirror of Scripture you read your true condition; in the mirror of the creature you will see yourself as wretched; in the mirror of your own nature you will consider yourself guilty. Now in your own nature a threefold mirror appears: the mirror of reason, of sensuality, and of the flesh. As the philosopher says, there is one kind of mirror in which the left appears as left, and the right appears as right. In this mirror the right is reason, which dictates that the right things are to be sought, that is, the things of heaven; the left things are to be fled, that is, earthly things. But there is another mirror, in which the right-hand things appear to be left, and the left-hand things appear to be right; this is sensuality, which dictates that earthly things are to be sought, and heavenly things put aside.

There is another mirror, in which the face appears inverted; this is the flesh, which turns the whole of human nature upside down. See yourself, then, in the mirror of reason, so that you may obey it; see yourself in the mirror of sensuality, so that you may subject it to reason; see yourself in the mirror of the flesh, so that by chastising it you may cast it down, and so that you may be able to conquer carnal things, set yourself in a threefold watchtower: first in the watchtower of foresight, so that you may guard against threatening dangers. Second, in the watchtower of circumspection, so that you may guard against opposite vices; hold to the middle course, and by the middle path you will go most safely, for nature too is a friend of moderation. Third, in the watchtower of caution, lest vice shade itself under the cloak of virtue, for often cruelty pretends to be justice, and slackness pretends to be mercy; and so through this threefold watchtower you will arrive at a threefold vision: of a pure conscience, of divine contemplation, and of eternal life.

If the preacher wishes to invite his hearers to flee gluttony, he can use this authority: I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection.¹ Likewise: Let us live soberly, and justly, and piously in this world.²

The body, I say, must be chastised so that it may serve us; it is to be indulged, not served, for whoever serves the body must serve many things, since he who fears too much for it refers everything to it. What is worthless becomes honorable to the one for whom the body is too dear. The Lord says in the Gospel: Take heed lest your hearts be weighed down with surfeiting and drunkenness, and the cares of this life.³ Paul also says: Be not drunk with wine, in which is excess.⁴ Solomon also says: Wine is a luxurious thing, and drunkenness is riotous; whoever is delighted by these is not wise.⁵ Jesus son of Sirach says: A drunken laborer will not become wealthy. Wine and women make the wise fall away, and reprove the sensible.⁶ A small amount of wine is enough for a wise and learned man; you will not suffer from it in sleeping, nor will you feel its burden. Wine drunk in moderation is health for the body and the soul.⁷ Isidore says: "Wherever there is fullness and drunkenness, there lust holds sway." So then you must conduct yourself, o man, in such a way that you do not seem to live for the sake of the body, but as though you could live without a body; make use of yourself and of the best part of yourself, and consider the flesh a thing more necessary than great; for from it are born, in a merely passing way, pleasures that are brief, regrettable, and (unless kept in check) unrestrained, and destined to turn into their opposite. Chastise, then, the flesh, which is like a dog, a servant, a beast of burden.

The more a servant is indulged, the more he grows slack through idleness; the more a dog is struck, the more it indulges in barking; the more a beast of burden is fed, the more it kicks back against its master. With how much care, then, must gluttony be fled, which reduces to a dung-heap the dwelling of the body, the receptacle of the spirit and the soul, and reduces the mass of our flesh to mud, and which bends the soul, the true school of virtues, the rule of reason, the temple of the Godhead, the foundation of immortality, into a parade of vices, a banquet of crimes, the mud of sin, a theater of filth.

This is gluttony, for whose sake you take part in lawsuits, labor in the camps, serve the rich, endure their haughtiness, cloak flattery, and soften your speech. In avoiding gluttony, then, do not serve the flesh; but indulge it moderately; sustain it, do not nourish it excessively; govern it, do not exalt it. O man, do you know what gluttony is? Surely gluttony is the tomb of the mind, a heap of dung, the origin of lust, the mother of nausea. O man! the stomach would complain about gluttony if it could speak, saying: O man, what belongs to necessity I demand, what belongs to excess I refuse: do not give me what are burdens to me, but what are nourishment to one who asks; I ask for what nature seeks, what necessity requires; whatever is more than that comes from evil. For,

A river and grain are enough for the people.

O man, what care is it of yours from what dung is made, and from what dung-heaps are increased? Consider your own nature, look at the measure of your stomach. Do you know from what bodily illnesses and mental derangements arise? Certainly from expense of food, from a flood or overflow of drink. Whence does fever come, if not from gluttony? Whence the falling sickness, if not from excess? Does not paralysis arise from drunkenness, and dropsy from wine-soaked living? What is drunkenness, but a deranging of the mind, a plundering of virtues, an image of death, a likeness of madness? Through drunkenness insolent pride grows, cruelty in the servant, malice in the envious. Drunkenness tangles the speech, distorts the eyes, causes the wandering one to degrade himself, produces torments of the stomach, distends the very entrails, works dizziness of the head; it drives out the very modesty of mind and the guarding of the mouth, casts off the mark of shame, breaks the seal of chastity. This is drunkenness, through which, whatever evil lay hidden emerges, once too much wine has taken possession of the mind; and just as a cask bursts when the must ferments, and whatever is in the wine rises to the top, so, once drunkenness floods in, the secret that lay hidden in the mind goes out from the depths of the heart to the tip of the mouth; for just as wine passes from the stomach of the body up to the mouth, so from the stomach of the mind the secret comes forth in words, so that, just as the drunk man cannot hold back the wine, so he vomits out the secret externally.

This is one daughter of idolatry, for whom the god is the belly,⁸ which offers worship to Bacchus, whence it can be called, by a made-up word, "Bacchus-worship."

For he is idolatrous enough who prefers the belly to God, who worships Bacchus more than God, who rots in his own excess, and grows foul like a beast of burden in its own dung.

O man, consider the rich man⁹ who feasted splendidly every day; consider, by contrast, Lazarus, who lay before his gate full of sores! The rich man rejoiced at the banquet, and was afterward buried in hell; he feasted splendidly in life, and after life he thirsted for a drop of water: at first he was clothed in purple, afterward he was surrounded by the flame of hell; Lazarus, however, was a beggar in life, and after life was placed in the bosom of Abraham; here poor, there rich; here full of sores, there comforted with blessed hope.

Consider, o man, how Adam through gluttony lost paradise;¹⁰ Elijah through abstinence ascended into heaven; Noah through gluttony uncovered his thighs;¹¹ Moses through abstinence merited conversation with God; Lot through drunkenness fell into incest; David through the abstinence of penitence obtained his remedy. O man, consult nature; it will tell you what the law of living ought to be. The law of nature is that you drive away hunger and thirst; for this it is not necessary that you cross the seas, that you follow the camps; what nature desires is easy to obtain and close at hand. Take up, then, weapons against gluttony, arm yourself against excess. Take up the remedies of fasting against the assaults of so great a sickness; fast from food, lest the flesh grow wanton; fast from temporal pleasure, lest the mind grow faint; fast from sin, lest the spirit grow sluggish. With this threefold fast we must chastise our beast of burden, that is, our flesh, lest it raise its heel against us: our beast of burden must be corrected with the stick, with spurs, with the bridle, with the goad.

For if our flesh wishes to stray into what is forbidden, it must be checked back with the bridle of discretion, corrected with fasts as though with certain spurs, chastised with vigils as though with certain sticks, roused with the goad of fear.

If the preacher wishes to instruct his hearers in fleeing lust, he can take his beginning from this authority: flee fornication. The Lord says in the Gospel: Let your loins be girded, and lamps burning in your hands.¹ Paul says: Fornicators and adulterers God will judge.² Solomon: A harlot is a deep pit; she lies in wait on the road like a robber; she kills those whom she sees unwary.³ Jesus son of Sirach: Do not give a woman power over your soul, lest she enter into your strength, and you be brought to confusion.⁴ Jerome: "Woe to him who set the boundary of his lust only where his life ended. For among riches chastity is hardly kept safe: gleaming skin reveals a filthy mind; and among silks and fine garments lust holds dominion. Whoever lives in lust is dead while living, and whoever is drunk is dead and buried." Gregory: "While the belly is stretched with fullness, the sting of lust is stirred up." Whoever restrains the pleasure of a lustful suggestion does not pass over into consent to lust. If the pleasure of fornication delights the mind more than the love of chastity, sin still reigns in that man. All unclean pollution is called fornication: it is better to die than to fornicate; it is better to die than to be stained by lust. Lust plunges a man into hell. Lust burns more fiercely the one it finds idle; go nearer to a burning fire than to a young woman, when you yourself are young. Since material monsters are to be fled and are horrible, spiritual monsters are to be fled and driven away all the more. What monster is more monstrous than lust, which bears on its head the face of a virgin and the image of pleasure, in the middle a she-goat of foul-smelling lust, and at the end a she-wolf, plundering virtue. This is that plague which bears a close resemblance to hell. In hell there are three things: a foul stench, the gnawing worm of conscience, a burning flame; so lust stinks through infamy, burns through conscience, scorches through desire. This is a plague more ruinous than any monster, which empties the purse, weakens the body, intoxicates the mind, unmans the state of the soul, stains the mind, destroys reputation, offends one's neighbor, loses God. This is that plague in which what delights passes quickly away, while what torments remains without end; whose appetite is anxiety and madness, whose act is abomination and disgrace, whose outcome is regret and shame. In this plague, three things are to be cursed: the burning at its approach, the effort in its execution, the stench in its completion. See how base, how full of filth are the fellowships of lust! a famished satiety, a pleasure full of regret, a momentary delight, an eternal bitterness. This is the plague that hates the light, seeks the darkness, looks for a covering, and posts a doorkeeper at the gate. This is the fly that ruins the sweetness of ointment; the fly is born from dung, and stays among filthy things; the place where it settles becomes infected. This is lust, which is the daughter of gluttony, a stench born from the dung-heap of the flesh, an odor produced from the mud of the body. It feeds on filthy things, and delights in carnality. The true ointment, however, is chastity, in which there are, as it were, aromatic qualities: purity of mind, cleanness of body, modesty in bearing, decency in dress, restraint in food, reserve in speech. This ointment is corrupted by lust, because it defiles the mind, stains the body, loosens one's bearing, unmans one's dress, increases one's appetite, dissolves one's speech; and so lust storms chastity with its own weapons, which are:

Sight and conversation, touch and kisses, the deed.

When lust first entices a man through sight to desire, it attacks chastity; second, through conversation it heaps insults upon chastity; third, through a kiss it spits in the face of decency; fourth, through touch it strikes down decency; fifth, through the deed it kills it. The fight against lust must be entered into in the manner of the Parthians: just as the Parthians rout their enemies by fleeing, and conquer by turning their backs, so lust must be routed by fleeing and cut down by withdrawing. This is that plague which encompasses those three things through which a man is thrown out of his house, namely, smoke, a dripping roof, and a quarrelsome wife. The wife is carnality, the dripping roof is the fluid instability of lust, the smoke is the enormity of infamy. These three things drive the soul from peace of heart, from serenity of mind, from tranquility of spirit. O man! read in examples what the vice of lust brings about, so that the actions of others may be your lesson. David through lust fell into homicide; Ammon through incest felt the sword of Absalom; Daniel through chastity earned understanding of dreams, Joseph through chastity earned the primacy of Egypt, Jezebel through harlotry felt the ruin of death; the blessed Virgin through virginity earned the bearing of God. Do you wish to avoid lust? beware gluttony, which is the kindling for lust, the prologue to incest, the bridge to shamelessness, the preface to incontinence.

O man, this is lust, through which the imagination grows numb, the senses grow dull, the intellect is darkened: indeed, to say more, it changes a man into a beast; indeed, man degenerates through it to below the beast, since a beast keeps to its seasons of mating, while you desire at every hour; a beast keeps to its nature, you rage against yours; a beast keeps to one mate, you run after many.

If the preacher wishes to turn the minds of his hearers toward fleeing avarice and covetousness, let him take the beginning of his sermon from that authority which says "avarice is the servitude of idols,"¹ or from that which says "there are three things that are insatiable, and a fourth that never says: It is enough,"² because:

The more they drink, the more they thirst for water.

O plague, than which nothing is more skilled at inciting to crime, once the thirst for having has grown hot! Because:

To what do you not drive mortal hearts, o accursed hunger for gold?³

While all other things are enclosed within fixed limits, avarice is bounded by no limit. The earth is bounded by its own borders, water is limited by its own boundaries, the air is enclosed by its own limit; heaven is confined by its own bounds; avarice alone is not restrained by any measure. O man! on account of avarice many things are armed against you, many things complain about you: fortune, nature, your own flesh, charity, your neighbor, the world, and God. Hear what fortune says against you: O man, why do you seek my familiarity? why do you long for my goodwill? if I give you riches, I give them so as to take them away; I am generous so as to snatch them back; I flatter so as to torment more heavily; I grow calm so as to strike more terribly with lightning. You who are in safety, why do you seek turmoil with me? You who are on level ground, why do you aspire to my precipice? You who are in harbor, why do you long for my shipwreck?

Hear what nature says against you! O man, I bore you without honors, return without honors; I gave birth to you without riches, come to me without riches; you entered without worldly glory, leave without it. O man, do you seek to make your own what belongs to another? surely those things that were not born with you are foreign to you; they cannot be truly yours, they cannot be with you for long or forever. Consider that saying of the philosopher: "An honorable thing is a cheerful poverty." But it is not poverty if it is cheerful. Whoever is well content with poverty is rich; it is not the one who has little, but the one who desires more, who is poor. If you live according to nature, you will never be poor; if according to opinion, you will never be rich. Nature desires little, opinion desires an immense amount. Natural desires are finite; those born of false opinion have no place where they stop.

For there is no limit to false opinion. Draw yourself back, then, from vain things, and when you wish to know whether your desires are natural or blind, consider whether they can rest anywhere; if, however far you have gone, there is always something further remaining, it is unnatural. O how much an honorable poverty is to be sought! For many, riches have stood in the way of acting well! Poverty is unencumbered, it is secure. If you wish to serve God, you must either be poor, or be like the poor. Hear, man, what your own flesh says against you! O man, why do you complain against me, why do you lodge a complaint against me? Do you call me the tinder of sin, a tyrant raging in your members, a weakness of nature, a goad of Satan? Why do you blame me because you are afflicted by avarice, made slack by covetousness? I could bring many complaints against you, offer many reasons, since without tinder I lie inert, without incitement I am languid; you provoke to covetousness, you stir up to avarice, you give me the weapons with which I fight against you, you give me the tools with which I contend; you incite me to strike, you invite me to rage.

Hear what charity says against you! O man, why do you enrich yourself with those things which your neighbor needs? Why do you take for yourself what should be shared with the poor? Why do you feed moths and worms with what the poor should be fed? Do you wish to be the best merchant, an excellent moneylender, a wise businessman? Give what you cannot keep, so that you may gain what you cannot lose; give a little, so that you may gain a hundredfold; give what is another's possession, so that you may gain an eternal inheritance.

Hear what your neighbor says against you: O man, why do you wrong me, why do you contrive death for me for the sake of my goods? why do you impose false charges, and invent crimes, so as to empty my purse, so as to squeeze out my money? If you wrong me, vengeance will be taken from you at once; if you plunder me of money, you will first have plundered yourself in soul; if you wound me in body, you will first have wounded yourself in mind.

Hear what the elements say against you, and especially the earth, your mother: Why do you wrong your mother, why do you inflict violence on me, who brought you forth from my own bowels? Why do you harass me with the plow, so that I return a hundredfold profit; why do you harass your mother so that I vomit forth gold? are not the things I grant you of my own free will enough, unless you extort them by violence? the time will come when you will return to your own origin, when I will receive you back and close you within my bowels; when I will expose you to worms, you who exposed me to whippings.

Hear what the sea says against you: O man, why do you furrow me with ships, strike me with oars, search my depths with nets? It is no wonder if I sink you, if I bring shipwreck upon you, if I attack you with storms and various blows.

Hear what God says against you? What is it, o man, that you set your Creator below the creature? that you prefer money to Him, a creature to God, earth to heaven, a passing thing to the heavenly, a transitory thing to the eternal? consider that I brought you forth from mud, and formed you to my image; consider that my hands made you, shaped you entirely on every side. Would you be grateful to a man for money, and ungrateful to me for life? If you are not grateful for what has been given, at least be grateful for what is to be given, so that, if what I have given does not move you, at least what I promise may move you; and if the hope of eternal life does not move you, may the fear of hell move you.

Warned by these things, let man avoid avarice, and not set his mind on riches, because the authority says: As difficult as it is for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, so difficult is it for those who trust in money to enter the kingdom of God.⁴ Paul also says: The root of all evils is covetousness, which some, in their eagerness, have wandered from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.⁵ Covetousness profits nothing to the one in whom it dwells. Worse than every sin is avarice, and the love of money. Hence the Lord in the Gospel: Beware of all avarice.⁶ And Paul: No fornicator, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, has any inheritance in the kingdom of God.⁷ Likewise Solomon: The covetous man is not satisfied with money.⁸ And: He who loves riches will not gather fruit from them.⁹ Likewise Cyprian says: "A covetous man is like hell." Someone also said: "The covetous man lacks as much what he has as what he does not have." You give up much, brothers, if you renounce your desires, for God asks for the heart, and does not weigh purses.

If the preacher wishes to fortify a man against sloth, let him use these authorities. The sluggard will be stoned with the dung of oxen.¹ Likewise: Rise, you who sleep, and Christ will enlighten you.² Likewise: "You who lie in tombs, rise up and meet the judgment of the Savior." Seneca also says: "The greatest loss is that which comes about through negligence." From these the preacher should proceed thus: Dearest brothers, see how Scripture fortifies us against sloth or laziness; this is the sloth that draws back the Christian's hand from the plow, that looks back toward Sodom along with the wife of Lot, that fears to climb the mountain along with Lot, that does not wish to return to the land of Bethlehem along with Ruth. This is the sloth that causes a monk's vow to grow lukewarm, through which he grows weary of the strictness of the cloistered life; which wishes to use more delicate foods, to recline on softer beds; to attend fewer vigils, to keep little or no silence. This is the sloth that fears to undertake great things, grows weary of what it has begun, for which anything is burdensome, anything is difficult, nothing is light. This is what keeps the cleric from study, excludes the cloistered monk from the cloister, nourishes vices, shuts out virtues. For it gives birth to lust, nourishes gluttony, sows detractions, breeds quarrels. Whence the poet:

Why did Aegisthus become an adulterer? The reason is at hand: he was idle.³

To such a sluggard it is said: Rise, you who sleep. The sluggard sleeps, I say, with the eyes of his mind closed, for he directs his gaze neither toward good things, nor opens the eye of his mind to see what is necessary. But while he bends himself toward desiring earthly things, placed in the sleep of the mind, he dreams as it were of phantoms. There are, however, three kinds of sleep. The first and chief is that of contemplation, through which a man is caught up to see the things of heaven. The second is that of imagination, through which one imagines visible things. The third is that of laziness, through which one dreams foolish things. Of the first it is said: The Lord sent a deep sleep upon Adam.⁴ Of the second it is said: That God gave wisdom to Solomon in his dreams.⁵ Of the third it is said against the sluggard: Rise up, you who sleep, etc.⁶ Through the first sleep a man becomes a god, through the second he becomes a spirit, through the third he becomes a beast. In the first, God appears, in the second, a spirit, in the third, the devil: with this sleep Ishbosheth was numbed at midday, when, while the doorkeeper slept, the captains of the robbers entered and cut off his sleeping head. Ishbosheth sleeping is the soul lulled by the sleep of sloth; to kill this soul, the captains of the robbers enter, that is, the demons, because while the circumspection of reason keeps the door of the mind less carefully, the devil cunningly enters through this door to kill the soul. Now this sleep of numbness is brought on by a whisper, or a light breeze, a shadow, or excessive weariness. For just as bodily sleep is brought on by the light whisper of a fountain or a gentle breeze, or the sweetness of a song, so, by the instinct of prosperity, as though by the breath of a gentle breeze, or by the whisper of carnal delight, the mind is led into the sleep of sluggishness. The shadow of ignorance also gives birth to this sleep; the weariness of honest labor also produces this sleep. To him who sleeps thus, Scripture cries out: Rise, you who sleep.⁷ Rise, I say, through the circumspection of reason, rise through the rejection of evil, rise through the working of good; and Christ will enlighten you.⁸ For the night has passed, and the day is drawing near. You, then, who lie in the tombs of negligence, whitened on the outside as to the outward surface of righteousness, but foul within through the numbness of the mind, and dissolved into worms through the multitude of wicked thoughts; rise from earth to heaven, from idleness to exertion, from ruinous numbness to the business of virtue, and meet the judgment of the Savior. Hear what Scripture says: The sluggard will be stoned with the dung of oxen.⁹ The ox is the one who labors in the threshing-floor of the Lord, who grinds sacred Scripture with the teeth, as it were, of spiritual understanding, and draws out spiritual meaning from sacred Scripture, and passes it into the delight of the mind as though into the stomach. From this spiritual food the literal surface is cast off like dung, which sometimes savors of heresy, which kills through numbness the man who grows lazy in understanding the Scriptures. O man, how is it that the other creatures are diligent in the tasks assigned to them; the sun completes its yearly course, the moon runs through its monthly changes, and the other stars carry out the tasks assigned to them, dumb animals are not sluggish in the exercises of their own nature, and yet you alone, lulled by sloth, stray from your duty, deform in yourself the image of God, and, though living, will die, and, though dying, live? Let at least the industry of the smallest and lowliest animal move you to shame, that is, the caution of the ant, which in summer, with great care, gathers grain so that it may live when the harshness of winter comes upon it. So in the present life you ought to acquire the fruit of good works, so that, when the wintry day arrives, that is, the day of judgment, you may have the fruit of good works, which will refresh you for eternity.

See, then, how ruinous laziness is! As long as David kept himself occupied in warfare, lust did not assail him, but after he sat idle in the palace, he fell into adultery. As long as Samson had battle with the Philistines, so long he was not captured by his enemies, but sleeping in the lap of Delilah, he was blinded by the enemy. Solomon, while laboring in the building of the temple, did not feel the ruin of lust, but once idle from his labor, he experienced the assault of wantonness. This is the cowardice that offers a man to the devil unarmed, exposes him naked to temptation, weak to attack. This deprives a man of the spiritual goods that are the garments of virtues. This calls the devil to battle, the flesh to wantonness, the mouth to gluttony, the mind to negligence. Be occupied, then, in honorable business, so that what you have lost through the past you may redeem through the future. Embrace every hour, make every moment serve your own benefit, so that you may at least offer to God the dregs of old age, you who offered to the devil the flower of youth; so that at least in old age you may become a soldier of Christ, you who in youth were a servant of the devil.

Against envy, the preacher can fortify his hearers with these authorities; the Lord says in the Gospel: Do not envy one another. Peter also says: Laying aside all malice, and all guile, and dissimulations, and detractions, and all envy.¹ Solomon says: A sound heart is the life of the flesh; envy is the rottenness of the bones.² Augustine also says: "Envy burns up all virtues. Truly he is envious who makes another's good his own punishment by envying it." Isidore says of the same: "Where the good man prospers, there the wicked or envious man wastes away." Another authority says of the same: "By the envy of the devil, death entered into the world."³ Likewise the poet:

Laughter is absent, except that which the sufferings of others have produced.

Likewise:

The tyrants of Sicily never found a greater torment than envy.⁴

In accordance with these authorities, let the preacher proceed thus: You have heard, dearest brothers, how sacred Scripture pursues the plague of envy, how it curses the evil of malice. For this reason the plague of envy is especially to be avoided, which first torments itself and afflicts its own possessor, harms itself first before it wounds another, and its wounds turn back upon itself. This is the vice that grieves at another's prosperity, and mourns at another's joys, and rejoices at another's misfortune. O vice, more despicable than every other vice, more base than every plague! which virtue troubles, which happiness afflicts, which blessedness vexes, which joy torments! While the other vices have some superficial pleasure, a shadow of joy, an image of happiness, this plague is a torment without relief, a sickness without remedy, a labor without rest, a punishment without interruption. This is the sin that punishes itself, that does not leave itself unpunished; it defiles and torments at once, it punishes and corrupts at once; this is the worm that is born from manna; this is the worm by which Jonah's gourd was dried up; this is the fiery serpent by which the children of Israel were bitten, this is the locust by which the fruits of the earth are devoured.

We read that manna was given from heaven to the children of Israel, from which, when kept, a multitude of worms swarmed: so from the heavenly grace bestowed on the faithful man, envy is sometimes born, occasioned in the mind of the proud man; and the more the faithful man is strengthened in the manna of heavenly grace, the more the mind of the proud man is dissolved into the worm of envy. We read that a worm was born from the gourd, whose shade protected Jonah from the assault of heat, and that the worm gnawed the gourd through completely; so envy, like a worm born from the brightness of virtue, completely gnaws through the purity of conscience with which a man ought to defend himself against the heat of vices; and it exposes Jonah's head, that is, the mind of the man, to the heat of vices. We read that the children of Israel, wandering in the desert, were stung by fiery serpents; so those in the cloister, exiled in the desert of this world, who ought to be the true children of Israel, frequently labor under envy, for this worm dwells in ashes and sackcloth, and lurking in the dust, it stings all the way to death. This is the moth that destroys the fine garments of the virtues. This is the rust that plunders the treasure of wisdom. This locust consumes the green growth of the earth, because whatever good work is flourishing in a man, it destroys.

This is the plague that cast the angel out of heaven, that banished man from paradise. This struck the children of Israel in the desert; this armed the brothers against Joseph; this cast Daniel into the lions' den; this at last fixed our Head to the gallows of the cross. O man, what benefit is it to you if you envy, what profit if you undermine another? Do you open a snare, and dig it out, and yourself fall into the pit you make? While you labor to hold others back, you yourself are held; while you labor to defraud others, you are deceived. O man, you attack nature, you fight against charity, you trouble yourself, you sin against your neighbor, you offend God. Whereas you ought to make another's joys your own by rejoicing with him, and another's sorrow your own by grieving with him, whereas in another's misery you ought to read your own, and recognize in yourself the condition of your neighbor. To what end does malice tend! to what does jealousy leap forth! to what is envy carried! It breaks the bond of friendship, the glue of charity, the covenant of love, the law of natural justice.

If the preacher wishes to arm a man against anger, let him use these authorities: Whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.¹ And Paul says: Let not the sun go down upon your anger.² And James: The anger of man does not work the justice of God.³ And Solomon: Fools show their anger at once; but he who conceals his anger is shrewd.⁴ An angry man stirs up quarrels; he who is patient calms those that have been stirred up.⁵ Anger rests in the bosom of a fool.⁶ Gregory: "Who can endure a spirit quick to anger?" And in the Psalm: Be angry, and do not sin;⁷ the poet ⁸also says:

Anger is a brief madness; govern your mind, for unless it obeys, it commands; restrain this with reins, curb this with chains.

And Claudian:

If you are led by fear, by base desires, by anger, you will endure the yoke of slavery.

Here are the authorities with which the faithful man ought to fortify himself against anger, as with spiritual weapons. See, man, how fertile in wicked offspring anger is. From anger proceeds the rancor of hatred. For what is hatred, but inveterate anger? From it are born murder, insult, detraction, injury. O man, if you grow angry, if you hate your neighbor, you contradict yourself, since in prayer you cry out to the Lord: Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.⁹ With what face do you ask that your debts be forgiven, when you do not forgive the rancor of your mind toward your neighbor?

There are three kinds of anger. One is born in the mind, but is not carried through to outward anger; this is the one about which it is said: Whoever is angry with his brother is liable to judgment.¹⁰ For whoever conceives anger, retaining it within, will not escape the judgment of eternal damnation. This anger is signified by the daughter of the ruler of the synagogue, dead in her chamber. There is another anger that proceeds as far as general insults, which is more serious, and closer to hell, about which it is said: Whoever says to his brother, "Raca," that is, has hurled general insults at him, shall be liable to the council,¹¹ that is, will be liable to a more serious judgment. This is signified by the son of the widow. For when someone is provoked by anger beyond the mind to the act, the soul, carried outside the bounds of the mind all the way to the practice of wicked deeds, is borne along as dead. But when insult breaks out as far as specific abuses, it rages more seriously. About this it is said: Whoever says to his brother, "Fool," shall be liable to the fire of hell.¹²

For the more serious the insults are, the more he who hurls them corrupts himself with the stench of infamy. If anger arises in the mind, it should be curbed instantly, because little ones must be dashed against the rock before they grow; the little foxes must be caught before they gnaw the vineyard; and the firstborn must be killed in the morning; and the Canaanite must be cast out of the promised land; and thus let not the sun go down upon your anger.¹³

For we must feel anger only at its first stirrings, so that we do not sin through consent to it. For it is human to rise up in anger, but it is diabolical to persist in it. It is no shame to feel anger, but it is a shame to fall into fault. O man, hear what the teaching of the heavenly Master says: If you offer your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there, etc.¹⁴ There you have it: that if you wish to offer your material gift at the altar, you must first be reconciled to your brother, if you hold rancor in your mind; for the offering of the outward gift profits nothing, unless the inward tranquility of the mind is offered to God. Likewise, if on the altar of faith you wish to offer the sacrifice of good work, first shut out from your mind the clouds of rancor. For if your brother sins against you, you ought to forgive him not only seven times, but seventy times seven.¹⁵ Our Head, Jesus Christ, at the moment of his Passion, prayed for his persecutors, and Stephen, the first of the martyrs, interceded for those who stoned him;¹⁶ and if we do not have this perfection, so as to return good for evil, let us at least return for evil the least possible measure of evil in retaliation.

We ought often to bring back to memory what the teaching of the Gospel parable suggests to us, where we read of the man to whom his master forgave a debt, and yet he was unwilling to forgive his own debtor, and was therefore thrust into prison, and forced to repay to the very last farthing.¹⁷ Likewise, whoever does not forgive injuries to his neighbor, the supreme exactor will demand punishment from him for each of his faults. When you hold rancor in your mind, you do not harm your enemy, but you destroy yourself in soul, and you punish yourself in mind through rancor, while you desire to work against another. What malice is this? what vengeance? where, while you wish to hold your enemy, you yourself are held? while you wish to strike your enemy, you destroy yourself? Attend diligently to that precept, understand it more carefully: Love your enemies, and do good to those who hate you.¹⁸

If the preacher intends to rouse his hearers to flee pride, let him use these authorities: Whoever exalts himself will be humbled.¹ Likewise: What is high to men is an abomination before God.² Likewise Paul: Do not be haughty in mind, but fear.³ Likewise Jesus, son of Sirach: The beginning of every sin is pride.⁴ Likewise: He has put down the mighty from their seat, and has exalted the humble.⁵ Likewise Peter: God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.⁶ O man, consider what pride takes away, what humility, the nurse of virtues, bestows. Pride made devils out of angels; humility, however, makes men like the holy angels. Pride is heavenly by origin, and yet it hides in ashes and sackcloth. Let the cloistered man beware lest he say with the Pharisee: I am not like the rest of men.⁷ But let him rather cry out: I am a worm and not a man, the reproach of men, and the outcast of the people.⁸ If he is a learned man, let him not thunder out with the Pharisee: Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?⁹ but let him rather cry out with the publican: God, be merciful to me a sinner.¹⁰ O man, it is up to you to set your place low; it is dangerous to stand on a precipice. To the humble man the Lord says: I am as the dew, and Israel shall spring forth like the lily.¹¹ The lily grows better in the valley than on the mountain, because there it is nourished more abundantly by water, retains its greenness longer, preserves its whiteness longer. Whence it is said: The lily of the valleys.¹² So he who is a true Israel, truly seeing the Lord, planted in the valley of humility, is nourished by a greater watering of heavenly grace, and springs forth more richly in spirit.

He retains more fully the brightness of charity, and the whiteness of innocence. "The more one owes by virtue of a gift, then, the more humble he ought to be, when he sees himself more bound in rendering account." For any works whatsoever are rightly deprived of their reward, unless they are seasoned with the sweetness of humility. For "he who gathers virtues without humility, as it were, carries dust into the wind." This is the humility that cries out: Let him who is greater become as one who serves.¹³ And elsewhere: The greater you are, humble yourself in all things.¹⁴ This is what caused the Son of God to descend from the bosom of the Father into the womb of the Virgin; this is what wrapped him in poor rags, that he might clothe us in the ornaments of the virtues; this is what circumcised him in the flesh, that he might circumcise us in the mind; this is what allowed him to be scourged bodily, that he might free us from the scourge of sin; this is what crowned our king with thorns, that he might crown us, his servants, with the roses of eternal blessedness.

Oh, how unlike humility is pride! which cast Lucifer out of heaven, deprived Adam of paradise, transformed Nebuchadnezzar into a beast. This is pride, which, while it insolently raises itself above itself, ruinously falls below itself. This is what, while it seeks itself outside itself, does not find itself within itself. This is what makes a man peculiar within what is common, singular within the universal, solitary in public, and isolated within the community. This was the first thing that cast man down, and it is the last thing that stands in his way as he returns to the Lord.

When you fight well, when you think everything subdued, whatever evils it then presents, pride still remains to be conquered.

This is what unmans one's bearing, sets one's gesture outside the rule, through which words overflow, threats thunder, what is lacking is claimed, what is present is disregarded. This handed the philosophers over to a reprobate mind,¹⁵ blinded the Jew, destroys the obstinate, casts down the exalted.

This is signified by the north wind, when it is said: Rise, north wind, and come, south wind.¹⁶ The north wind is hostile to flowers, plunders the grasses, binds the waters with frost; so pride is a stepmother to good things, destroys the fruit of one's work, binds the mind with the frost of perversity, about which it is said: All evil is spread abroad from the north;¹⁷ because pride is the mother of all wickedness. Of this it is also said: What do you see, Jeremiah? I see a pot boiling from the north.¹⁸ This is the pot of the servants of pride, in which the children of darkness are cooked down, the pursuers of honors, the hunters of riches, who desire the first seats, who wish to be greeted in the marketplace, and to be called "Rabbi" by men. This pot Nebuchadnezzar kindles, that is, the devil; to it the arrogance of pride supplies the flame; in it the proud man is cooked down; the cooked matter is eaten by Egypt, that is, the unclean spirit draws it into his own body, and afterward carries it off into hell. Pride is a wind that throws up dust from the face of the earth, because it casts the proud man out from the stability of eternal life. This is the swelling that drives away the medicines that have been applied, because pride does not receive the grace offered to it. There are, moreover, four kinds of pride, which, like four winds, blow through the whole world, because they puff up worldly men with swellings. Arrogance, namely, which ascribes to itself what it does not have; insolence, which appropriates to itself what it owes to others; haughtiness, which believes many things of itself beyond the truth; obstinacy, which sets itself up as a superior. These are the four craftsmen who shake the whole world and offer men various illusions.

Since the preacher wishes to invite his hearers to contempt for worldly fear, and to a desire for the fear that comes from above, let him use these authorities: Do not fear those who kill the body, but cannot kill the soul; but rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.¹ In the book of Wisdom it is read: Fear God, and keep his commandments.² Likewise elsewhere: Blessed is he who is always fearful.³ And again: The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.⁴ It will go well with those who fear God at the last, and they will be blessed on the day of his judgment.⁵ Those who fear the Lord keep his commandments, and will have patience until his visitation.⁶ And Jerome says: There is nothing that so keeps us free from sin as the fear of punishment, and the love of God. And Gregory says: To fear God is to pass over none of the good deeds that must be done. From these authorities one should proceed thus: O man, all worldly fear is especially to be avoided: the fear that flees troubles before they come, that heaps up pain in torments, that gives birth to adversity in prosperity, and to sadness and death in the midst of joy; that is the worst kind of augury in doubtful matters, false in true matters, abundant in false ones. No good thing helps the one who has it, unless the mind is prepared for its loss.

Therefore, arm yourself against everything that can happen, however powerful it may be. The satisfying of desires also serves as a remedy against fear, and, as Seneca says: "Fear follows hope." Foresight, the greatest good of the human condition, has been turned into an evil; wild beasts flee the dangers they see, when they can escape in safety; but we are tormented both by what is to come and by what is past. Many of our good things harm us. For memory brings back the torment of fear, foresight anticipates it; no one is wretched only in the present. O man, conquer fear, the conqueror of all things; if you conquer it, adversity will be favorable, tribulation sweet, pain will become delightful. O man, do you wish to flee fear, to set aside earthly things? do not cling to earthly things, do not indulge in what is fleeting; if you love earthly things, you fear to offend, you fear to lose; if you wish to conquer fear, fear God. Thus one art is undone by another art, thus one nail blunts another. Fear God so that you may not fear; serve God so that you may not be a slave; and keep his commandments in your mind, for this is every man, that is, every man was made for this, that he may read in himself the whole power of God. Set yourself, o man, between two millstones, the millstone of fear and of hope. Hope in such a way that your spirit is not slackened; fear in such a way that your thought is not allowed to spread too wide. O man, do not fear the approach of death, nor refuse the service of life! for the latter gives the just man greater merit, the former grants him his wages. Do not consider how long you live, but how. One should not take care to live long, but to live well enough; to live long belongs to chance, to live well enough belongs to the will. Life is long if it is full; but the mind is made full when it renders itself full of virtues, and does not fall back from its own proper power. What good does it do a man if he passes eighty years in the numbness of inactivity? that man did not live, but merely lingered in life, and did not die late, but died slowly, over a long time.

But he dies full of days who weighs his old age by the seriousness of his virtue, who extends the length of his life imposed on him by his merits; for although his age may be incomplete, yet his life is complete. I beg you, o man, to live in such a way that, just as you think that precious things hang on chance, so you should not doubt that the span of life hangs in the balance. Let us measure life by action, not by time. Let it recover in a good action what it lost in its passing. We are not cast suddenly into death, but proceed toward it little by little: we die daily, we take away something of life daily. Let us act so that as much as our temporal life decreases, so much may our eternal life increase. Let the loss of temporal life be for the increase of eternal life.

Let us arm ourselves with patience for the course of life, and for the assault of death: for we must be warned and strengthened for both, so that we neither love life too much, nor fear the onset of death too much, but weigh both in the balance of reason; for otherwise there is an ill-considered inclination of the mind toward dying, for some, weighed down by weariness, wish to end their disgust through death. It is not the harassment of worldly adversity that ought to drive one toward death, but rather the ardor of divine charity, so that a man does not set the end of his desire in the moment of death, but rather in the attaining of eternal blessedness.