With kings and consuls of the earth, who build themselves solitudes:

“It seems to me that Job attempts to humble these noble characters and to persuade them not to attach a great importance to human affairs, because he has not introduced the kings into this passage without purpose or at random. Job speaks of "those who gloried in their swords." Notice again how amid his afflictions Job possesses words full of wisdom. Their wealth, in fact, has granted the kings no protection; their power has been of no use; death has come at the end for everyone.”

“MORAL INTERPRETATION. With the kings and counsellors of the earth. From things without sense we learn what to think of beings endowed with sense and understanding. Now the earth is rendered fruitful by the air, while the air is governed by the quality of the heaven. In like manner man is over the beasts, the Angels over man, and the Archangels are set over the Angels. Now that man has sovereignty over the beasts, we both perceive by the common use, and are instructed by the words of the Psalmist, who says, Thou hast put all things under his feet; all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field. And that the Angels are placed over man is testified by the Prophet, in these words, But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me. And that the Angels are under the governance of authority in superior Angels, the Prophet Zechariah declares; And, behold, the Angel that talked with me went forth, and another angel went out to meet him, and he said unto him, Run, speak to this young man, saying, Jerusalem shall be inhabited as towns without walls. For in the actual ministration of the holy spirits, if the superior Powers did not direct the inferior, one Angel would never have learnt from the lips of another what he should say to a man. Therefore, forasmuch as the Creator of the Universe holdeth all things by Himself alone, and yet for the purpose of constituting the defined order characterizing a universe of beauty, He rules one part by the governance of another; we shall not improperly understand the kings to be the Angelic spirits, who the more devotedly they serve the Maker of all beings, have things subject to their rule the more. He would then have been 'at rest with kings;' in that, surely, man would have already had peace in company with the Angels, if he had refused to listen to the tongue of the Tempter. These too are rightly called 'counsellors,' for they 'consult' for the spiritual commonwealth, while they unite us to the kingdom as fellow-heirs with themselves. They are justly called 'counsellors;' for, whereas, from their lips we are made acquainted with the will of the Creator, it is in them assuredly that we find counsel to extricate ourselves from the misery that besets us here. But since blessed Job is full of the Holy Spirit of Eternity, and since Eternity knows neither to have been nor to be about to be, whereto, as we know, neither things past depart, nor things future approach, as seeing all things in the present, he may, in the present inspiration of the Spirit, have his eyes fixed on the future preachers of the Church, who, when they leave the body, are separated by no intervals of delay from the inheritance of the heavenly country, as the fathers of old were. For as soon as they are parted asunder from the ties of the flesh, they enter into rest in their heavenly habitation, as Paul bears witness, who saith, For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. But before our Redeemer by His own death paid man's penalty, those even that followed the ways of the heavenly country, the bars of hell held fast after their departure out of the flesh, not so that punishment should light on them, but that while resting in regions apart, they should find the guilt of the first sin a bar to their entrance into the kingdom, in that the Intercession of the Mediator was not yet come. Whence, according to the testimony of the same Mediator, the rich man, that is tormented in hell, beholds Lazarus at rest in the bosom of Abraham. Now if these had not been in the lower regions, he, in the place of his torment, would not have seen them; and hence this same Redeemer of us men, in dying to pay the debt of our sin, goes down into hell, that He may bring back to the realms of heaven all His followers, who had been held in that debt. But where man in a state of redemption now ascendeth, thither, if he had refused to sin, he might have reached even without the help of the Redemption. Let then the holy man consider that if he had not sinned, he would have ascended to that place, even without redemption, whereunto the holy Preachers, since the Redemption, must fain arrive at the cost of much labour, and let him shew in company with whom he would now be at peace, saying, With kings and counsellors of the earth. For the kings are the holy Preachers of the Church, who know both how to order aright those that are committed to them, and to regulate their own bodies; who, while they check the motions of lust in themselves, rule over their thoughts, kept in due subjection according to the law of virtue. These too are rightly entitled, counsellors of the earth. For they are 'kings' in that they rule themselves, but counsellors of the earth, because they yield lifegiving counsel to the lifeless sinner. They are kings in that they know how to govern themselves, and counsellors of the earth, in that they lead earthly minds up to heavenly things by advice of their admonitions. Was not he 'a counsellor of the earth,' that said, Now concerning virgins I have no commandment of the Lord, yet I give my judgment; and again, but she is happier if she so abide, after my judgment. Which build desolate places for themselves. For all that either seek forbidden things, or that desire to appear somewhat in this world, are inwardly beset with a countless throng of thoughts, and while they stir up in their own bosom a host of desires, their mind, being laid prostrate, is miserably trodden by the foot of crowded resort. Thus one man has subjected himself to the law of lust, and he paints to his mind's eye representations of impure acts, and when the execution of the deed is not in his power, the thing is the more often done in the inward intent; the consummating of pleasure is sought, and the mind being struck powerless, borne hither and thither, disquieted at once and blinded, looks out eagerly for an opportunity of the foulest fulfilment in practice. That mind then, which is disordered by a rabble riot of thoughts, suffers as it were a kind of crowded population. Another man has submitted his neck to the dominion of Anger, and what does he employ himself about in imagination but quarrels which do not even exist? Such a man is often overlooking those that are before him, contradicting the absent, giving and receiving insults in imagination, making his reply severer than the insult received, and when there is none there to encounter him, he makes up a quarrel in his own breast with much uproar. He then that is pressed down by an intolerable weight of angry thoughts, has the misfortune of a rabble in his own bosom. Another has delivered himself over to the law of avarice, and, out of conceit with his own possessions, hankers after what belongs to another: it often happens that being unable to obtain what he longs for, he spends the day indeed in idleness, but the night in thought; he is a sluggard in useful work, because he is harassed with unlawful devices; he multiplies his schemes, and stretches his bosom the wider by all the contrivances and expedients of his invention; he is busy to reach the desired objects, and in order to obtain them he casts about for the most secret windings to serve for his occasions, and the moment that he reckons himself to have hit upon any crafty contrivance on an occasion, he is now in high glee as having obtained possession of his object, and now he is contriving what he may even add further to the thing when gotten, and is considering how it ought to be improved to a better condition; and whereas he is now in possession, and is bringing it to wear a better appearance, he is next considering the snares of those that are envious of him, and pondering what dispute they may fasten upon him, and making out what answer to give, and at the time he has nothing in his hands, the empty handed disputant is wearing himself out in defence of the thing which he desires. Thus although he has not got a particle of the object desired, yet he has already in his breast the fruit of his desire in the troublesomeness of the quarrel; and so he, that is overcome by the tumultuous instigations of avarice, has a vast population besetting him. Another one has subjected himself to the empire of pride, and while he lifts himself up against his fellow-creatures, he submits his heart to the vice, to his great misery. He covets the wreaths of elevated honours, he aims to exalt himself by his successes, and all that he desires to be, he represents to himself in the secret thoughts of his own breast. He is already as it seems seated on the judgment-seat, already sees the services of his subjects at his command, already shines above others, already brings evil upon one party, or recompenses another for having done this. Already in his own imagination he goes forth into public surrounded by throngs, already marks with what observance he is sustained in his high position; yet while fancying this, he is creeping by himself alone. Now he is treading one set under his feet, now he is elevating another, now he is gratifying his dislikes upon those he treads under foot, now he is receiving applause from the other whom he has elevated. What else is that man doing, who has such a multitude of fanciful imaginations pictured in his heart, save gazing at a dream with waking eyes? and thus, since he undergoes the misery of so many combinations of cases, which he pictures to himself, he plainly carries about within him crowds, that are engendered of his desires. Another has by this time learnt to eschew forbidden objects, yet he dreads lest he should lack the good things of this world, he is anxious to retain the goods vouchsafed him; he is ashamed to appear inferior among men, and he is full of concern lest he should become either a poor man at home, or an object of contempt in public. He anxiously inquires what may suffice for himself, what the needs of his dependants may require; and that he may sufficiently discharge the rights of a patron towards his dependants, he searches for patrons whom he may himself wait upon; but whilst he is joined to them in a relation of dependence, he is undoubtedly implicated in their concerns, wherein he often consents to forbidden acts, and the wickedness, which he has no mind for on his own account, he commits for the sake of other objects which he has not forsaken. For often, while dreading the diminution of his reputation in the world, he gives his approval to those things with his superiors, which in his own secret judgment he has now learnt to condemn. Whilst he anxiously bethinks himself what he owes to his patrons, what to his dependants, what gain he may make for himself, how he may promote his inclinations, he is in a manner overlaid with resort of crowds, as many in number as the demands of the cases whereby he is distracted. But holy men, on the other hand, because their hearts are not set upon any thing of this world, are assuredly never subject to the pressure of any tumults in their breast, for they banish all inordinate stirrings of desire from the heart's bed, with the hand of holy deliberation. And because they contemn all transitory things, they do not experience the licentious familiarities of the thoughts springing therefrom. For their desires are fixed upon their eternal country alone, and loving none of the things of this world, they enjoy a perfect tranquillity of mind; and hence it is said with justice, Which built desolate places for themselves. For to 'build desolate places' is to banish from the heart's interior the stirrings of earthly desires, and with a single aim at the eternal inheritance to pant in love of inward peace. Had he not banished from himself all the risings of the imaginations of the heart, who said, One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord? For he had betaken himself from the concourse of earthly desires to no less a solitude than his own self, where he would be the more secure in seeing nought without, in proportion as there was no insufficient object that he loved. For from the tumult of earthly things he had sought a singular and perfect retreat in a quiet mind, wherein he would see God the more clearly, in proportion as he saw Him alone with himself also alone. Now they, who 'build for themselves solitary places,' are very properly also called 'consuls,' for they set up the mind's solitude in themselves in such wise, that whereinsoever they have the greater ability, they never cease to consult for the good of others through charity. Accordingly let us consider a little more particularly the case of him, whom we just now noticed as 'a consul,' and see in what manner he casts abroad the counters of the virtues, for the setting forth examples of a sublime life to the lines of people under him. Observe, in order to inculcate the returning good for evil, he makes confession on his own person, saying, If I have returned on them that requited me evil, then should I deserve to fall empty before mine enemies. To excite the love of our Maker, he introduces himself saying, But it is good for me to draw near to God. To work an impression of holy humility, he shews the secrets of his heart, saying, Lord, mine heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty. He excites us by his own example to imitate his unswerving zeal, saying, Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee, and am not I grieved with them that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred, I count them mine enemies. To light up in us the desire of our eternal home, he laments the length of this present life, and says, Woe is me that my sojourn is prolonged. Surely he shone forth in the magnificence of the consulship, who, by the example of his own conversation, casts before us so many of virtue's counters. But let this counsellor tell whether he too builds a solitary place for himself, For he says, Lo, I fled far off and remained in the wilderness. He 'fleeth far off,' in that he raises himself from the throng of earthly desires in high contemplation of God; and he 'remains in the wilderness,' in that he persists in the retiring purpose of his mind. Of this solitude Jeremiah saith well to the Lord, I sat alone from the face of Thy hand, because Thou hast filled me with threatening. For the 'face of God's hand,' is the stroke of His righteous judgment, whereby He cast man out of Paradise, when he waxed proud, and shut him out into the darkness of his present place of banishment. But 'His threatening' is the farther dread of a subsequent punishment. Accordingly after 'the face of His hand,' we are yet further terrified with 'His threats,' because both the penalty of our present banishment has already fallen upon us in the actual experience of His judgment, and, if we do not leave off from sinning, He further consigns us to everlasting punishments. Let the holy man then, here cast away, consider whence it was that man fell, and whither the justice of the Judge yet further hurries him, if he goes on to sin afterwards, and let him dismiss from his breast the countless hosts of temporal desires, and bury himself in the deep solitude of the mind, saying, I sat alone from the face of Thy Hand; for Thou hast filled me with threatening. As though he said in plain words, 'when I consider what I already suffer in experience of Thy judgment, I seek with trembling the withdrawal of my mind from the tumult of temporal desires; for I dread even still worse those eternal punishments, which Thou dost threaten.' Well then is it said of 'kings and counsellors,' which built desolate places for themselves. In that they, who know both how to govern themselves, and to advise for others, being unable as yet to obtain admission to that interior tranquillity, fashion a resemblance to it within themselves by pursuit of a quiet mind.”

“who build ruins for themselves It is customary for those who seek fame to rebuild ruined cities as a memorial for themselves, as in (Isa. 58: 12), “And those coming from you shall be called the repairer of the breaches.” That is to say, with princes and famous people. Or, would that I was unknown, and I would be like a stillborn. What Scripture states: I was not like a hidden stillborn, is because it continues with the language with which it started to speak, viz. in the interrogative, and it refers to “Why did knees receive me...or why was I not like a hidden stillborn child?””

“After this Job opened his mouth, and so forth. As was said above, concerning the passions of the soul there was a twofold opinion among the ancients: for the Stoics said that sadness does not befall the wise man, while the Peripatetics said that the wise man does indeed feel sadness, but in his sadness comports himself moderately according to reason; and this latter opinion agrees with the truth. For reason cannot take away the condition of nature; and it is natural to sensible nature both to take delight and rejoice in fitting things and to grieve and be saddened at harmful ones: this, therefore, reason cannot take away, but it moderates it in such a way that through sadness reason is not turned aside from its rectitude. This opinion also agrees with sacred Scripture, which places sadness in Christ, in whom is the whole fullness of virtue and wisdom. Thus, then, Job from the aforementioned adversities did indeed feel sadness — otherwise the virtue of patience would have had no place in him — but on account of sadness his reason did not decline from rectitude; rather he held dominion over his sadness. To show this, then, it is said, after this Job opened his mouth. Now he says after this, that is, after the seven days of silence; from which it becomes clear that the words which follow were uttered according to reason, through a sadness not thrown into disorder. For if they had been spoken out of a disturbance of mind, he would have uttered them earlier, when the force of his sadness was more vehement; for any sadness is softened by length of time and is felt more strongly at the beginning. For this reason he seems to have kept silent so long, lest he be judged to speak with a disordered mind. This is also shown by the fact that it is said he opened his mouth; for when someone speaks out of the impulse of passion, it is not he himself who opens his mouth, but he is driven by passion to speak: for we are not masters of our acts through passion, but through reason alone. Yet by speaking he showed the sadness he was suffering: for it is customary among the wise that they speak from reason the movements of the passions which they feel, just as Christ also said, "My soul is sorrowful even unto death," and the Apostle says in Romans 8, "For the good which I will, I do not; but the evil which I hate, that I do." So too Boethius, at the beginning of the Consolation, laid open his sadness in order to show how he might soften it by reason; so too Job, by speaking, laid open his sadness. Hence there follows: and he cursed his day, which seems to be contrary to what the Apostle says in Romans 12:14, "Bless, and curse not." But it must be known that "to curse" is said in many ways: for since to curse is nothing other than to say something evil, one is said to curse as often as it happens that one says something evil. Now it happens that someone says something evil of another in three ways. First, by an utterance causing evil, as the divine utterance is the cause of the things that are said, and the sentence of a judge condemning someone is the cause of the punishment of him who is condemned; and in this way is understood what the Lord said in Genesis 3:17, "Cursed is the earth in thy work," and Genesis 10, "Cursed be Canaan, let him be servant of his brethren"; and Joshua cursed Achor, who had taken from the accursed thing. Second, by imprecating or wishing evil, as we read in 1 Kings that the Philistine cursed David in his ways. Third, it happens that someone says something evil simply by declaring it, whether in the present, the past, or the future, whether truly or falsely. The Apostle, therefore, forbids that cursing by which someone imprecates evil upon another or falsely defames him, but not that manner in which a judge condemns the guilty, or someone truthful orderly points out the evil of some thing, whether by showing what is present, or recounting what is past, or foretelling what is future. Thus, then, it must be understood that Job cursed his day because he declared it to be evil — not according to its nature, by which it was created by God, but according to that custom of Scripture by which a time is called good or evil according to the things that are done in that time, according to that word of the Apostle in Ephesians 5:16, "Redeeming the time, because the days are evil." Job, therefore, cursed his day inasmuch as he calls to mind that evil things befell him on that very day. How he cursed it, however, is added: and he said: let the day perish in which I was born, and the night in which it was said: a man is conceived. Now it must be known that although being and living are in themselves desirable, yet being and living in misery is, as such, to be fled from, although sometimes being in misery is willingly endured for the sake of some end; hence that miserable life which is not ordered to some good end is in no way to be chosen, according to what the Lord says in Matthew 26:24, "It were better for that man if he had not been born." But the good which is hoped for from some misery, reason alone apprehends; the sensitive power does not perceive it — just as taste perceives the bitterness of medicine, but reason alone delights in the end of health; if, then, someone wished to express the passion of his own taste, he would declare the medicine to be bad, although reason would judge it to be good on account of the end. So, then, the misery which blessed Job was enduring could indeed seem to reason to be useful in some respect, but the lower part of the soul, which was being affected by sadness on account of it, wholly repudiated the adversity; hence even the very act of living under such adversity was hateful to him. Now when something is hateful to us, we abominate all the things through which we came to it; and therefore Job, according to the lower part of the soul — whose passion he now intended to express — held in hatred both his birth and his conception, from which he had come into this life, and consequently the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, according to that manner of speaking whereby something is ascribed as good or evil to a time from the things done in that time. Thus, then, Job, because according to the sensitive part he repudiated life under adversity, wished that he had never been born or conceived, and this is what he says, let the day perish in which I was born, as if he were to say, "I would that I had never been born." And the night in which it was said — that is, in which it could truly be said — a man is conceived, that is, "would that I had never been conceived." And he arranges it fittingly, because when the nativity is removed the conception is not thereby removed, but rather the reverse; and he fittingly ascribes conception to the night and nativity to the day, because according to astrologers a daytime birth is more praiseworthy, the more principal star, namely the sun, being over the earth, whereas conception occurs more frequently at night. A similar manner of speaking is found in Jeremiah 20:14: "Cursed be the day wherein I was born; let not the day wherein my mother bore me be blessed." Having thus set down the curse of the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, he proceeds to treat each separately, and first concerning the cursing of the day of his nativity, saying, let that day be turned into darkness. Now it must be considered that, as Jerome says in the Prologue, from the words of Job in which he says let the day perish in which I was born up to that place where, near the end of the book, it is written, "therefore I reprehend myself," the verses are hexameters, running in dactyl and spondee; and thus it is clear that from this point the book is written after the manner of a poem, wherefore throughout this whole book he uses the figures and colors which poets are accustomed to use. Now poets are accustomed, in order to move more vehemently, to bring forward various things to the same purport; hence here too Job, in cursing his day, brings forward, according to the manner we have described, those things by which a day is wont to be rendered hateful. Now the dignity of a day is its brightness, for by this it is distinguished from night; this dignity, then, he excludes, saying, let that day be turned into darkness — a statement which, as to the surface of the letter, seems frivolous and vain. For the day of his nativity had already passed and now was not; and what has passed is unchangeable: how, then, could a day that had passed be turned into darkness? But it must be known that certain things are said by way of wishing, in order to express a judgment held concerning some matter; thus, then, it is now said, let that day be turned into darkness, as if it were said: the day of my nativity ought to have been dark, so that it might accord with the darkness of the misery which I suffer. For since the sight of light is delightful, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 11:7, "Light is sweet, and it is delightful for the eyes to see the sun," it is customary in the Scriptures that sadness be signified by darkness, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 5:16, "he eateth in darkness, and in many cares, and in wretchedness and sorrow." Now a day is bright in many ways: first, indeed, from God's sanctification, who instituted it to be celebrated, as is found in Exodus 20:8, "Remember that thou keep holy the sabbath day"; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, let not God regard it from above, as if he were to say: let not God require of men that they keep this day as a feast. For certain days are required by God for celebration on account of some notable benefit conferred on men on that day, as the sabbath in the old law on account of the benefit of creation, and the day of Passover on account of the benefit of deliverance from Egypt; which is also evident in the feast days celebrated in the New Testament. He means, then, to signify by this that his nativity ought not to be reckoned among God's notable benefits, since he seems rather to have been born unto misery than unto joy. Second, a day is bright from the remembrance of men: for men are accustomed to keep certain days as festive, on which some great and joyful things befell them, as Herod and Pharaoh used to celebrate the day of their birth; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, and let it not be in remembrance — namely, the remembrance of men — because, evidently, nothing joyful happened on that day, but rather something sad, as appears from the outcome. Third, a day is bright from bodily light, and this brightness is taken away in several ways: first, indeed, by the withdrawal of the rays of the sun that illumine the earth, as is evident when the sun is eclipsed, and as to this he says, nor let it be lightened with light; second, by the interposition of clouds or other such things hiding the rays of the sun, and as to this he says, let darkness cover it; third, by a defect of the visual power, for when someone dies or is deprived of sight, the brightness of day is, as far as he is concerned, taken away, and as to this he says, and the shadow of death. Now the manner of the aforesaid darkening he explains in two ways: first, as to order, in that he says, let a mist seize upon it — for then a day is seized by a mist when upon a day previously shining darkness is suddenly and unexpectedly brought on, the like of which appears in the life of Job himself; second, as to the kind of darkness, in that he says, and let it be wrapped in bitterness, by which he gives us to understand that everything which has been said about the darkening is to be referred to the darkness of sadness — for he seems to observe this practice, of explaining a parabolic saying from something that follows. Through all these things, then, he means to say nothing other than that the day of his nativity ought to be judged a day not of joy but of grief, since through his nativity he came into a life subject to such great adversity. After the cursing, then, of the day of his nativity, he consequently curses the night of his conception according to a similar manner of speaking, and first he attributes to it that by which a night is rendered more horrible. For since night, on account of darkness, is horrid in itself, the more the darkness of night is increased, the more horrid it is rendered, which happens when some great tempest arises in the night; and as to this he says, let a dark whirlwind possess that night, as if he were to say: it would have been fitting for that night to be possessed by a dark whirlwind, that it might match my life, which is caught up in so great a whirlwind of adversity. Then he removes from it those things which seem to belong to the good of a night, and first as to the opinion of men. For since men distinguish times according to the things that are done in that time, and in the night few or no things worthy of memory are done, night is not noted in itself in men's memories, but as joined to the day. This good, then, he removes from the aforesaid night, saying, let it not be counted in the days of the year, nor numbered in the months, as if he were to say: that night is not worthy of memory, since nothing notable happened in it, but rather something sorrowful. Now among the nights that are kept in the memories of men, some are not only memorable but also celebrated and festive, in which men gather together to hold some feast, and this he removes, saying, let that night be solitary. Now such a gathering of men on some night takes place in praise and celebration of that night on account of some famous deed which is commemorated on that night, as is done among the faithful on the night of the Lord's resurrection; and therefore he adds, nor worthy of praise — for some night is worthy of praise on account of some great deed occurring on that night. From this, then, he means nothing other than to signify that his conception was not something great, nor ordered to good, but rather to the evil of adversity which he was feeling; hence he adds, let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to raise up Leviathan. This, according to the letter, can be explained in two ways: in one way, according as by Leviathan is understood some great fish, as seems to fit with what is said of it at the end of this book, "Canst thou," he says, "draw out Leviathan with a hook?" And according to this it must be understood that those who fish for such great fish attack them by night, in darkness, and therefore when day begins to appear they curse the day, because by it their work and intention is impeded. In another way it can be understood that by Leviathan is signified the ancient dragon, namely the Devil, according to that word of Isaiah 27:1, "In that day the Lord with his hard and great and strong sword shall visit Leviathan the crooked serpent." Those, then, are ready to raise up Leviathan who strive to fulfill the suggestions of the Devil, giving themselves over to works of iniquity, who curse the day because, as it is said in John 4, "everyone that doth evil hateth the light," and below, in 24:15, it is said, "the eye of the adulterer watcheth for darkness," and afterward, "if suddenly the morning appear, he thinketh it the shadow of death." According to this, then, just as by his saying nor worthy of praise he means the aforesaid night to be hateful to the good, so by adding let them curse it, etc., he means it to be hateful to the evil as well: for both the good and the evil abhor adversity. Then he excludes from the aforesaid night those things which seem to belong to the natural good of a night, of which one is that a night is adorned by the sight of the stars, and this he removes, saying, let the stars be darkened with the mist thereof; another is that it is adorned by the hope of the day, and this he removes, saying, let it look for light and not see it, as if he were to say: although it is natural that in the night the light of day be looked for, yet let that night have infinite darkness, which is never terminated by the succession of the light of day. For the darkness of night is wholly excluded by the full light of day, but is diminished by the twilight of the dawn; he imprecates upon the aforesaid night not only that its darkness not be excluded by day, but that it not even be diminished by the dawn; hence he says, nor let it see the rising of the dawn as it rises. But because what he had said seemed impossible — namely, that day and dawn should not succeed the night — he shows from what sense this was said, adding, because it shut not up the doors of the belly that bore me. For the life of man is hidden in the mother's womb, hence it is compared to the darkness of night; but when through birth it comes forth into the open, then it bears a likeness to the clear day; therefore he said that that night should have neither day nor a following dawn to succeed it, in order to show that he wished his conception had never come to birth, nor to childhood, which is understood by the dawn, nor to youth, which is designated by the full light of day. Now he says because it shut not up, etc., not that the night itself shuts up the womb, that is, impedes birth, but because this is done in the night: for from the conception itself an impediment can be furnished so that the conceived does not come to birth. And because this too seemed unreasonable, that anyone should abhor life, since to be and to live is desirable to all, he shows for what reason he said this, when he adds, nor did it take away evils from mine eyes, as if he were to say: I do not abhor life itself for its own sake, but on account of the evils which I suffer; for although life in itself is desirable, yet not life subject to miseries is desirable. Here it must be considered that everything he had spoken figuratively above, he seems to have expounded by this final clause, which is also to be noted in his other sayings. Why did I not die in the womb? After he had cursed the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, in order to show that he abhorred the beginnings of his life, he now shows that he abhors his preservation in life, that from these things he might more manifestly show that his life is burdensome to him. Now there is a twofold state of life: one hidden, in which the conceived live in the womb; the other manifest, in which men live after their birth from the womb. As to the first state, then, he says, why did I not die in the womb? As to the second: why, having come forth from the womb, did I not perish at once? And of this second he treats first. Now it must be known that exterior life is taken away in two ways: sometimes indeed from some harm supervening, whether intrinsic, as is sickness, or extrinsic, as the sword or something of this kind, and to this can be referred what he said, having come forth from the womb, why did I not perish at once? Sometimes, however, from the withdrawal of a necessary aid, which is either extrinsic, as are conveyances, wrappings, and other such helps, and as to this he says, why was I received upon the knees? Or intrinsic, as is food, and as to this he says, or why was I suckled at the breasts? For the life of a newborn child needs these aids in its beginning. And because when someone says why was this done? he gives us to understand that this was done to no purpose, therefore he consequently shows that it would have been useless for him to have been preserved in life, indeed rather harmful. This he shows first as to the evils which he now suffers, saying, for now, sleeping, I should be silent — for he calls death a sleep on account of the hope of resurrection, of which he will speak more fully afterward; and by silence he understands rest from the adversities which he was suffering, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would not be disturbed by these evils which I suffer. Second, as to the good things which he had had before; for someone might say to him: if you had not been preserved in life, you would not have had the good things which you once had; but as if answering to this, he shows that not even on account of those goods of life ought his preservation to have been desired: for even those who throughout their whole life flourish in the greatest prosperity are brought to this same end, namely death; this, then, is what he means when he says, and in my sleep, that is, in death, I should be at rest — that is, I would be free from the disquietudes of life — with the kings and counselors of the earth. Now it must be known that of those who are established in positions of dignity, who seem most to prosper, the intention is either toward the enjoyment of pleasures, and as to these he says, who build themselves solitudes — according to the letter, wishing to be solitary for the sake of hunting or other pleasures — or toward the amassing of riches, and as to these he says, or with princes that possess gold, and fill their houses with silver, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would now have nothing less than those have, after death, who prosper in many things. Now it must be considered that, since to rest belongs only to that which subsists, from these words he gives us to understand that man, as to his soul, subsists after death. But if someone should object that such kings or princes of whom he speaks perhaps do not rest but are in the punishments of hell, or also that life was useful to Job himself in this, that it gained him merit, it must be noted that, as we said above, Job is now speaking from the person of the sensual part, expressing its affection, which has regard only to bodily and present goods or evils. Thus, then, after he has shown that it was not to be desired by him that he be preserved after his birth, he consequently shows that it was not to be desired by him that, being preserved in the womb, he should have come to birth, expounding what he had said above, why did I not die in the womb? Now it must be considered that some die in the womb before the infusion of the rational soul, which alone is immortal, and as to this he says, or as one hidden and untimely born, I should not have subsisted — for from such abortive offspring nothing perpetual remains; but some die after the infusion of the rational soul, who indeed subsist after death as to the soul, but do not see the light of this world, and as to this he says, or, understand "as," they who, being conceived, have not seen the light — namely, of the present life. And that this would have been desirable for him he shows by this, that he would not have been subject to the evils of this life; hence he says, there — that is, in the state of those who, being conceived, have not seen the light — the wicked have ceased from tumult, namely that which they inflicted upon others by afflicting them, which refers to freedom from the evil of guilt; and there — that is, in the state of the dead — those wearied in strength, that is, warriors who have been fatigued by waging wars, have rested — that is, they have been free from such toil, because, as has been said, he now speaks only of rest from the evils of the present life; it can also be understood of weariness in whatever labor one endures by working with his strength. And those who were once bound shall be there together without disquiet, that is, without their former distress, together with those who kept them bound; and there men oppressed by forced labors or servitudes have not heard the voice of the taskmaster, according to that which is said in Isaiah 14:4, "How hath the oppressor ceased, the tribute hath ceased!" And that this is true he shows by adding, the small and the great are there, and they are alike, for smallness and greatness in this life are according to the inequality of earthly prosperity, which being removed, men remain equal according to nature; what he says, then, the small and the great, must be understood thus: that is, those who in this life differed according to the greatness of earthly prosperity. It must be known, however, that a difference of greatness and smallness according to spiritual goods remains even there, but of these he is not now speaking, as has already been said. And there the servant is free from his master, wherefore forced labor or anything of the sort will have no place. Why is light given to the wretched? After Job had detested his own life in many ways, he now detests, in common, the life of the whole human race — both as to those who are in prosperity and as to those who are in adversity — of which he treats first, beginning, as it were, from what is more manifest. Now it must be known that among the living two things seem to be principal, namely, to live and to know. And indeed to know, although it is most delightful and most noble in itself, yet to know those things which afflict a man is painful; and therefore he says, why is light given to the wretched? as if he were to say: to what purpose does it profit a man subject to miseries that he has the light of knowledge, since through it he considers the evils by which he is afflicted? Now to live is noble on account of the soul; but if the soul is in bitterness, the very act of living is rendered bitter, and therefore he says, and life to them that are in bitterness of soul, resuming, why is it given? And that it is given uselessly he shows by this reasoning, that the contrary of it is desired by the wretched; hence he says, who — namely, those existing in bitterness — look for death, and it cometh not — namely, as quickly as they wish. And to show that they look for death not shrinking from it but desiring it, he adds, as they that dig for a treasure — those, namely, who are kindled with great desire that by digging they may arrive at the treasure. And because desire, when fulfilled, brings forth joy, he adds, and they rejoice exceedingly when they have found the grave — that is, when they see themselves arrive at death, through which they find the grave. Some, indeed, refer this to those who dig for treasure, who rejoice at having found a grave, because in ancient tombs treasures were accustomed to be found; but the first exposition is better. And because someone might say that although life is given uselessly to the wretched, yet it is given usefully to those who are in prosperity, to remove this he adds, to a man whose way is hidden — understand, why is light and life given? For a man's way is hidden because it is not known to what point the state of present prosperity will come; for it is said in Proverbs 14:13, "Laughter shall be mingled with sorrow, and mourning taketh hold of the end of joy," and it is said in Jeremiah 10:23, "the way of man is not his own," and in Ecclesiastes 7:1, "What need is it for a man to seek things above him, whereas he knoweth not what is profitable for him in his life?... Or who can tell him what shall be after him under the sun?" How it is, however, that a man's way is hidden, he explains, adding, and God hath surrounded him with darkness, which indeed is manifest in many ways: as to those things which are before and after, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 8:6-7, "the affliction of man is great upon him," for he is ignorant of the past, and the future he can know by no messenger; and as to those things which are alongside, namely, in men, according to that word of 1 Corinthians 2:11, "who knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of the man which is in him?" And as to those things which are above, according to that word of 1 Timothy, at the end, "who inhabiteth light inaccessible," namely God, "whom no man hath seen, nor can see"; and it is said in the Psalm that "he made darkness his covert"; and as to those things which are below, for it is said in Ecclesiastes 1:8, "All things are difficult, man cannot explain them by speech." Now God is said to have surrounded man with darkness because God granted him such an understanding that he cannot know the aforesaid things. Having shown, then, that the life of men is difficult on account of the misery and bitterness of men, he applies to himself these things which he had said in common, expressing his own bitterness when he says, before I eat I sigh; for as laughter is a sign of joy, so sighing is a sign of the bitterness of the soul: he shows, then, from the manner of his sighing the measure of his bitterness. His sighing, then, both began early — for he says, before I eat I sigh — and it was continual and great; hence he adds, and as overflowing waters, so is my roaring; for as sighing is a sign of moderate sadness, so roaring is a sign of a sadness that is vehement and can scarcely be borne. Now this roaring is compared to the roaring of water: for water is easily moved and makes a murmuring sound; so too a man set in great affliction is provoked to roaring by a slight recollection of his misery. He adds, moreover, of overflowing water, to show the continuity of his bitterness: for overflowing water is continually in motion and makes a sound. But because the bitterness of the soul arises from misery, after the bitterness of soul he adds, concerning his misery, saying, for the fear which I feared hath come upon me. And it must be noted that the misery of man that provokes to bitterness seems to consist in two things: in losses of goods or of person, and in dishonors. As to the first, then, he says, the fear which I feared hath come upon me, that is, the things which I feared have befallen me, whereby the magnitude of his losses and punishments is expressed; for the more prudent someone is, the more, in a state of prosperity, he considers beforehand what may happen to him in a time of adversity, according to that word of Ecclesiasticus 11:27, "In the day of good things be not unmindful of evils"; great, then, was the misery which the most prudent Job was suffering, since the things he had feared befell him. As to the second, namely as to dishonors, he says, and what I was afraid of hath come to me; for shame, according to the Philosopher, is a fear of dishonor; by this, then, he shows that from great glory he had fallen into many reproaches and dishonors. Now someone is accustomed to suffer misery and bitterness, but through his own fault; Job removes this, saying, have I not dissembled? And it must be known that someone offends, and thereby merits punishment from God, in two ways: in one way, when from injuries inflicted upon him he is provoked beyond measure to revenge, according to what is said in the Psalm, "If I have rendered to them that repaid me evils, let me deservedly fall empty before my enemies" — this he removes from himself, saying, have I not dissembled? — namely, the injuries done to me; in another way, when he himself first offends another, either by words, and this he removes, saying, have I not been silent? as if he were to say, I have uttered to no one contumelious or injurious words; or by deeds, and this he removes from himself, saying, have I not been quiet? for the wicked are like the raging sea which cannot rest, Isaiah 57:20. And although I am innocent, yet indignation is come upon me, that is, punishment from God — for wrath in God is not taken for a disturbance of mind, but for punishment — in which he recognizes that the adversities of this world do not come about apart from the divine nod. If, then, someone wishes to gather what has been said in this lament of Job, it must be known that three things are contained in it: for first he shows that his life is wearisome to him; second, the magnitude of the misery which he was suffering, there, before I eat, etc.; third, he shows his own innocence, when he says, have I not dissembled, and so forth.”

“With the kings and counsellors of the earth,.... From whom he might descend, he being a person of great distinction and figure; and so, had he died, he would have been buried in the sepulchres of his ancestors, and have lain in great pomp and state: or rather this he says, to observe that death spares none, that neither the power of kings, who have long hands, nor the wisdom of counsellors, who have long heads, can secure them from death; and that after death they are upon a level with others; and even he suggests, that children that die as soon as born, and have made no figure in the world, are equal to them: which built desolate places for themselves; either that rebuilt houses and cities that had lain in ruins, or built such in desolate places, where there had been none before, or formed colonies in places before uninhabited; and all this to get a name, and to perpetuate it to posterity: or rather sepulchral monuments are meant, such as the lofty pyramids of the Egyptians, and superb mausoleums of others; which, if not built in desolate places, yet are so themselves, being only the habitations of the dead, and so they are called the desolations of old, Eze 26:20; and this is the sense of many interpreters (q); if any man desires, says Vansleb (r), a prospect and description of such ancient burying places, let him think on a boundless plain, even, and covered with sand, where neither trees, nor grass, nor houses, nor any such thing, is to be seen. (q) Pineda, Bolducius, Patrick, Caryll, Schultens, and others. (r) Relation of a Voyage to Egypt, p. 91.”

“Consuls. Hebrew, “counsellors,” or any in great authority. Septuagint, “kings, the counsellors of the land, who rejoiced, boasting of their swords.” The same word, choraboth, (Haydock) means both swords and solitudes. (Du Hamel) — Those great ones had prepared their own tombs, which were usually in solitary places; (Calmet) or they had filled all with their extensive palaces; and removed the people to a distance. (Haydock)”

“With kings . . . which built desolate places for themselves--who built up for themselves what proved to be (not palaces, but) ruins! The wounded spirit of Job, once a great emir himself, sick of the vain struggles of mortal great men, after grandeur, contemplates the palaces of kings, now desolate heaps of ruins. His regarding the repose of death the most desirable end of the great ones of earth, wearied with heaping up perishable treasures, marks the irony that breaks out from the black clouds of melancholy [UMBREIT]. The "for themselves" marks their selfishness. MICHAELIS explains it weakly of mausoleums, such as are found still, of stupendous proportions, in the ruins of Petra of Idumea.”