Concerning certain properties of Holy Scripture and the manner of reading. It ought not to be burdensome to the studious reader that we treat so variously and in so manifold a way the number and order and names of the divine books, because it often happens that these least matters, when unknown, obscure the knowledge of great and useful things. Therefore let the reader once for all set himself free, so that, when these as it were certain preliminary clauses have been unlocked at the very outset, he may then be able with free step to run the journey he has set before himself, lest in each individual book he should be obliged to seek out new rudiments. These matters therefore being settled, we shall next treat the remaining things which will seem to be of value to the proposed work. Concerning the threefold understanding.
First of all it must be known that Holy Scripture has a threefold mode of understanding, that is, history, allegory, and tropology. Yet certainly not all things which are found in the divine utterance are to be twisted to this interpretation, so that each passage should be believed to contain history, allegory, and tropology all at once. For although in many cases this can be suitably assigned, yet to observe it everywhere is either difficult or impossible.
For just as in lyres and musical instruments of this sort not indeed all things that are touched resound with something melodious, but only the strings, yet the rest in the whole body of the lyre were made for this purpose, that there might be where the strings could be connected, and toward which those things might be stretched which the craftsman, about to play, tunes for the sweetness of the melody—so in the divine utterances certain things are set down which wish to be understood only spiritually, certain things truly serve the gravity of morals, certain things also are spoken according to the simple sense of history, and some others which can fittingly be expounded both historically, and allegorically, and tropologically.
Whence in a wonderful manner all divine Scripture is so fittingly adapted and arranged in its parts by the wisdom of God, that whatever is contained in it either, in place of the strings, sounds forth the sweetness of spiritual understanding, or, through the sequence of history and the solidity of the letter, containing the words of the mysteries scattered here and there and as it were connecting them into one, joins them together after the manner of hollow wood beneath the stretched strings, and receiving their sound into itself, renders it sweeter to the ears—a sound which not only the string produced, but which the wood also shaped by the modulation of its own body. Thus too honey is more pleasing in the comb, and whatever is sought with greater effort is found also with greater desire.
We ought therefore so to treat divine Scripture that we seek neither everywhere history, nor everywhere allegory, nor everywhere tropology, but assign each one suitably in its proper places, as reason demands. Yet often in one and the same letter all things can be found together at once, as when the truth of history may also intimate something mystical through allegory, and likewise show through tropology what ought to be done. That things also signify in divine Scripture. It must also be known that in the divine utterance not only words, but also things have the power to signify—a mode which is not usually found to such a degree in other writings.
The philosopher knows only the signification of words, but the signification of things is far more excellent than that of words, because usage established the latter, whereas nature dictated the former. The one is the voice of men, the other the voice of God to men. The one, once uttered, perishes; the other, once created, subsists. The voice is a faint token of the senses; the thing is the image of divine reason. What therefore the sound of the mouth, which begins to subsist and ceases at the same time, is to the reason of the mind, this whole space of time is to eternity. The reason of the mind is the inward word, which is manifested by the sound of the voice, that is, by the outward word. And the divine wisdom, which the Father uttered forth from His heart, in itself invisible, is recognized through creatures and in creatures.
From which it is doubtless gathered how profound an understanding is to be sought in the sacred letters, where through the voice one comes to the intellect, through the intellect to the thing, through the thing to reason, and through reason one arrives at truth. And while certain less learned persons do not consider this, they reckon that there is no subtlety in them whereby talents may be exercised, and on this account they betake themselves to the writings of the philosophers, because there indeed they grasp nothing else but the mere surface of the letter, being ignorant of the power of truth. But that the sacred utterances make use of the signification of things, we shall demonstrate by a brief and clear example. Scripture says: 'Be watchful, because your adversary the devil goes about as a roaring lion.'
Here, if we say that the lion signifies the devil, we ought to understand not the word, but the thing. For if these two words, that is, 'devil' and 'lion,' signify one and the same thing, the comparison of the same thing with itself is incompetent. It remains therefore that this word 'lion' signifies the animal itself, while the animal designates the devil. And all other things are to be received in this manner, as when we say that the worm, the calf, the stone, the serpent, and other things of this sort signify Christ. Concerning the seven rules. This also must be diligently attended to, that certain wise men have said there are, among the other rules of the language of the holy scriptures, seven.
The first rule is concerning the Lord and His body, which speaks from one to one, and in one person shows now the head, now the body, as Isaiah says: 'The Lord has clothed me with a garment of salvation, like a bridegroom adorned with a crown, and like a bride adorned with her jewels.' For in one person named with a twofold designation, he manifested both the head, that is, the bridegroom, and the church, that is, the bride. Accordingly it must be noted in the scriptures when the head is specifically written of, when both head and body, or when it passes from each to each, or from one to the other; and so the prudent reader should understand what befits the head and what the body. The second rule is concerning the Lord's body, the true and the mixed.
For certain things seem to befit one person, which yet are not of one, as is that saying: 'You are my servant, O Israel; behold, I have blotted out your iniquities like a cloud, and your sins like a mist. Return to me, and I will redeem you.' This does not agree with one. For one part is that whose sins He blotted out and to whom He says: 'You are mine,' and another is that to whom He says: 'Return to me, and I will redeem you,' who, if they return, their sins are blotted out. For by this rule Scripture thus speaks to all, so that both the good are reproved with the evil, and the evil are praised on account of the good; but what pertains to whom, he who reads prudently will learn. The third rule is concerning the letter and the spirit, that is, concerning the law and grace:
the law through which men are admonished that the commandments are to be performed, grace through which we are helped that we may work; or that the law is to be understood not only historically, but also spiritually. For it is necessary both to hold the faith historically, and to understand the law spiritually. The fourth rule is concerning the species and the genus, through which the part is taken for the whole, and the whole for the part, as if God should speak to one people or city, and yet it should be understood to touch the whole world. For although the Lord threatens against one city, Babylon, through the prophet Isaiah, yet while He speaks against it, He passes from the species to the genus, and turns His discourse against the whole world. Surely, if He were not speaking against the entire globe, He would not have added below generally:
'And I will destroy the whole earth, and I will visit upon the world its evils,' and the rest which follows, pertaining to the destruction of the world. Hence also He added: 'This is the counsel which I have purposed concerning the whole earth, and this is the hand stretched out over all the nations.' Likewise, after under the person of Babylon He has rebuked the whole world, again He returns to the same, as it were from the genus to the species, saying the things which befell that city particularly: 'Behold, I will stir up against them the Medes.' For while Belshazzar reigned, Babylon was taken by the Medes. So under the person of one Egypt He wishes the whole world to be understood, saying:
'And I will make the Egyptians run together against the Egyptians, kingdom against kingdom,' although Egypt is described as having had not many kingdoms, but one kingdom. The fifth rule is concerning times, through which either the greater part of a time is introduced through the lesser part, or the least part of a time is understood through the greater part. So it is with the three days of the Lord's burial: although He did not lie in the tomb for three full days and nights, yet nevertheless the whole three days are reckoned from a part.
Or as in that which God had foretold for four hundred years, that the children of Israel would serve in Egypt and would so depart from there—who nevertheless, while Joseph ruled, ruled over Egypt, and did not depart immediately after four hundred years as had been promised, but after four hundred and thirty had been completed, they withdrew from Egypt. There is also another figure concerning times, through which certain things which are to come are narrated as though already done, as is that: 'They pierced my hands and my feet, they numbered all my bones, and they divided my garments among themselves,' and things like these, in which future things are spoken as if they were already done. But why are things which were still to be done already narrated as done?
Because those things which are future to us are, in the eternity of God, already done. Wherefore, when something is pronounced as having to be done, it is said according to us. But when things which are future are said to be already done, they are to be received according to the eternity of God, with whom all things are already done which are to come. The sixth rule is concerning recapitulation. For recapitulation is when Scripture returns to that whose narration had already passed by, as when Scripture had recorded the sons of the sons of Noah, it said that they were in their tongues and nations, and yet afterward, as though this too is inquired into in this order of times:
'The whole earth,' it says, 'was of one lip, and there was one speech for all.' How then were they according to their nations and according to their tongues, if there was one tongue for all, unless because the narration returned, by recapitulating, to that which had already passed by? The seventh rule is concerning the devil and his body, by which things are often said of the head itself which befit rather his body. But often things seem to be said of his members which befit none but the head. For from the name of the body the head is understood, as is that in the Gospel concerning the tares mixed with the wheat, the Lord saying: 'An enemy man has done this,' calling the devil himself a 'man,' and from the name of the body designating the head.
Likewise from the name of the head the body is signified, as it is said in the Gospel: 'I have chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil,' indicating of course Judas, because he was the body of the devil. For the apostate angel is the head of all the wicked, and the body of this head are all the wicked, and so he is one with his members, that often what is said to his body is referred rather to him; and again, what is said to him is in turn derived to his members—as in Isaiah, where, when the prophetic discourse had said many things against Babylon, that is, against the body of the devil, it again derives the sentence of the oracle to the head, that is, to the devil, saying: 'How are you fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, who did rise in the morning,' and the rest. What hinders study.
After we have prescribed a definite subject-matter to the reader, and have determined those scriptures which pertain especially to divine reading by assigning them their proper names, it seems consequent that we should also say something concerning the manner and order of reading, so that from the things which have been said he may recognize on what matter he ought to expend his study, and from the things which are to be said he may receive the measure and method of that same study of his. But because we more easily understand what is to be done if we have first recognized what is not to be done, the reader must first be instructed what he ought to beware of, and then informed how he may accomplish those things which are to be done.
We must ask why it is that, out of so great a throng of learners, many of whom are gifted in talent and vigorous in practice, so few — indeed only a countable number — are found who succeed in attaining to knowledge. And, to say nothing of those who are by nature dull and slow to understand, this above all moves me and seems worthy of inquiry: how it comes about that two men of equal talent and equal diligence apply themselves to one and the same lesson, yet do not arrive at an understanding of it with like result. The one penetrates quickly and quickly grasps what he seeks; the other labours long and profits little. But it must be understood that in any undertaking two things are necessary:
namely, the work itself and the method of the work, which are so bound together that the one without the other is either useless or less effective. And yet, as is said, prudence is better than strength, for sometimes by skill we lift weights that we cannot move by force. So assuredly it is in every study. He who works without discernment toils indeed, but makes no progress; and, as one beating the air, he pours out his strength upon the wind. Behold two men crossing a forest together, the one labouring through trackless byways, the other taking the shortcuts of the straight road: with equal exertion they press on in their course, yet they do not arrive equally.
And what shall I call Scripture but a forest, whose thoughts, like sweetest fruits, we pluck by reading and chew over by pondering? He, therefore, who in so great a multitude of books does not keep a method and order of reading, like one wandering in the density of a thicket, loses the path of the straight road, and, as is said, is ever learning yet never coming to knowledge. For discernment is of such value that without it even all leisure is base and all labour useless. But, to embrace the matter universally — there are three things which are wont especially to hinder the studies of readers: negligence, imprudence, and fortune. Negligence is when the things to be learned we either wholly neglect or learn with too little diligence.
Imprudence is when we do not observe a fitting order and method in the things we learn. Fortune lies in outcome, in chance, or in what happens naturally, when by poverty, or by infirmity, or by an unnatural slowness, or even by the scarcity of teachers — because either none are found who teach, or none who teach well — we are drawn back from our purpose. Now of these three, concerning the first, namely negligence, the reader must be admonished; concerning the second, namely imprudence, he must be instructed; concerning the third, namely fortune, he must be helped. What is the fruit of sacred reading. Whoever shall come to be trained in sacred reading, let him first recognize what its fruit is.
For nothing ought to be sought without a cause, nor does that draw our desires which promises no usefulness. The fruit of sacred reading is twofold, for it either instructs the mind with knowledge or adorns it with morals. It teaches what is delightful to know and what is profitable to imitate. Of these, the one — namely, knowledge — looks rather to history and allegory; the other — namely, the instruction of morals — looks rather to tropology. All sacred Scripture is directed to this end. Yet, although it is more profitable to be righteous than to be wise, I know nevertheless that more men in the study of sacred discourse seek knowledge than virtue. But I, since neither is to be condemned, but both are necessary, will treat of both. And first I will deal with him who embraces the grace of morality.
How Scripture is to be read for the correction of morals. He who seeks in sacred discourse the knowledge of the virtues and a pattern of living, ought rather to read those books which urge contempt of this world, and kindle the soul to the love of its Creator, and teach the right path of living, and show how virtues may be acquired and vices avoided. For 'First,' He says, 'seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness.' As if He plainly said: 'Both desire the joys of the heavenly homeland, and diligently inquire by what merits of righteousness one may come to them. Love and seek both goods, both necessary. If there is love, it cannot be idle. Do you desire to arrive?'
'Learn how one arrives where you are striving.' Now this knowledge is gained in two ways, namely by example and by teaching: by example, when we read the deeds of the saints; by teaching, when we learn their sayings that pertain to our discipline. Among these I judge the writings of the most blessed Gregory to be singularly worthy of embrace, which, because they seemed to me sweet above the rest and full of the love of eternal life, I was unwilling to pass over in silence. But it is fitting that he who has entered upon this way be moved, in the books he reads, not only by the colour of the diction but by the emulation of the virtues, so that not so much the pomp of words or their elegant arrangement, but the beauty of truth, may delight him.
Let him also know that it does not serve his purpose if, snatched up by a vain desire for knowledge, he searches out obscure Scriptures of profound meaning, in which the mind is occupied more than it is edified — lest reading alone so hold him that it compels him to be idle from good work. To the Christian philosopher reading ought to be an exhortation, not an occupation, and to feed good desires, not to kill them. I remember that there was once related to me a certain man of fairly commendable life, who burned with so great a love of the sacred Scriptures that he devoted continual study to them.
And when, as knowledge grew day by day, his desire also grew, he at last, zealous for wisdom but imprudently, began — despising the simpler Scriptures — to probe whatever was profound and obscure, and to press vehemently upon unravelling the enigmas of the prophets and the mystical understandings of the sacraments. But the human mind, not able to bear so great a weight, soon began to fail both at the magnitude of the matter and at the continuousness of its straining, and to be confounded by so great a care of this importunate occupation, that it ceased not only now from useful but even from necessary actions.
Indeed, the outcome being turned to the contrary, he who had begun to read the Scriptures for the edification of his life, because he knew not how to use the restraint of discernment, now had those very Scriptures as an occasion of error. But by the divine mercy he was at last admonished through a revelation, that he should no longer apply himself to the study of these Scriptures, but should accustom himself to frequent the lives of the holy fathers and the triumphs of the martyrs, and other such works composed in a simple style; and thus in a short time, restored to his former state, he merited to receive so great a grace of inner quiet, that you would truly say that the Lord's word was fulfilled in him — by which He Himself, considering our labour and sorrow, in tender love willed to console us, saying:
'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you,' and further: 'Ye shall find,' He says, 'rest unto your souls.' This example I have set forth in order to show those who are placed in the discipline not of letters but of virtues, that reading ought not to be a weariness but a delight. For the Prophet also says: 'I have not known letters' — or trafficking — 'I will enter into the power of the Lord; O Lord, I will make mention of Thy righteousness only. O God, Thou hast taught me from my youth.' For he who reads the Scriptures as an occupation and, so to speak, for the affliction of the spirit, does not philosophize but traffics; and scarcely can so vehement and indiscreet a straining be free from the vice of pride.
But what shall I say of the reading of the simple Paul, who wished to fulfil the law before learning it? This indeed can be example enough for us, that we should be not hearers nor readers of the law, but rather doers, righteous before God. It must moreover be considered that reading is wont to bring weariness to the mind and to afflict the spirit in two ways: namely by quality, if it be too obscure, and by quantity, if it be too lengthy. In both of these one must use great restraint, lest what was sought for refreshment be taken to the point of suffocation. There are those who wish to read everything. Do not strive for this. Let it suffice you. It is of no concern to you whether or not you have read all the books. The number of books is infinite; do not pursue the infinite.
Where there is no end, there can be no rest. Where there is no rest, there is no peace. Where there is no peace, God cannot dwell. 'In peace,' says the Prophet, 'is His place made, and His dwelling in Sion.' In Sion, but in peace; one must be in Sion, but not lose peace. Contemplate, and do not be occupied with cares. Do not be greedy, lest perhaps you always be in want. Hear Solomon, hear the Wise Man, and learn prudence. 'My son,' he says, 'beyond these things seek nothing more; of making many books there is no end, and frequent meditation is an affliction of the flesh.' Where then is the end? Let us all alike hear the end of the discourse: 'Fear God, and keep His commandments: this is the whole of man.' That reading belongs to beginners, work to the perfect.
Let no one suppose, on account of what I have recounted above, that I am reproaching the diligence of readers, since I rather intend to exhort diligent readers to their purpose, and to show that those who learn willingly are worthy of praise. But there I spoke to the learned; now, however, I speak to those who are to be taught, and to those beginning the instruction which is the principle of discipline. To the former the pursuit of virtues, to the latter meanwhile the exercise of reading is set forth — yet so that neither these lack virtue, nor those wholly omit reading. For often that work is less provident which reading does not precede, and that teaching less useful which good practice does not follow.
Moreover, it is most needful both for those to take heed lest perhaps they look back at the things that are behind, and for these to be consoled, if at some time they desire to arrive where those are. Both, therefore, ought to be exercised and both to be advanced. Let no one go backward. It is permitted to ascend, but not to descend. But if you cannot yet ascend, stand in your place. He is not free from fault who usurps another's office. If you are a monk, what are you doing in the crowd? If you love silence, why does it delight you to be constantly present among the declaimers? You ought always to apply yourself to fasting and to weeping — and do you seek to philosophize? The simplicity of the monk is his philosophy. 'But I wish,' you say, 'to teach others.' It is not yours to teach, but to lament.
If nevertheless you desire to be a teacher, hear what you should do. The lowliness of your dress and the simplicity of your countenance, the innocence of your life and the holiness of your manner of conduct, ought to teach men. You teach better by fleeing the world than by following it. But perhaps you still press on, saying: 'May I not at least learn, if I wish?' I told you above: 'Read, and do not be occupied with cares.' Reading can be an exercise for you, but not a purpose. Teaching is good, but it belongs to beginners. You, however, had promised that you would be perfect; and therefore it does not suffice for you to be put on a level with beginners. You must do something more. Consider, then, where you are, and you will easily recognize what you ought to do. Concerning the four steps.
There are four things in which the life of the righteous is now exercised and, as by certain steps, is raised toward future perfection: namely reading or teaching, meditation, prayer, and work. A fifth then follows: contemplation, in which, as by a certain fruit of the preceding ones, even in this life there is foretasted what the reward of good work shall be. Hence the Psalmist, when he spoke of the judgments of God, commending them, at once added: 'In keeping them there is great reward.' Of these five steps the first step, namely reading, belongs to beginners; the highest, namely contemplation, to the perfect. And of the middle ones, the more of them one ascends, the more perfect he will be. For example:
the first, reading, gives understanding; the second, meditation, furnishes counsel; the third, prayer, asks; the fourth, work, seeks; the fifth, contemplation, finds. If, therefore, you read and have understanding and now know what is to be done, this is the beginning of good — but it does not yet suffice you, you are not yet perfect. Climb, then, into the citadel of counsel, and meditate how you may be able to fulfil what you have learned must be done. For many have knowledge, but few are those who know how one ought to know.
Again, since man's counsel without divine help is weak and ineffectual, lift yourself up to prayer and ask His help, without which you can do no good — that, namely, His grace, which by going before you has enlightened you, may also by following after direct your feet into the way of peace, and bring to the effect of good work what is as yet only in the will. Then it remains for you to gird yourself for good work, that what you ask in praying you may merit to receive in working. God wishes to work with you. You are not compelled, but helped. If you alone, you accomplish nothing; if God alone works, you merit nothing. Let God therefore work, that you may be able; and do you also work, that you may merit something. Good work is the way by which one goes to life.
He who runs in this way seeks life. Be strengthened and act manfully. This way has its reward. As often as, wearied by its labours, we are illumined by the grace of a heavenly regard, tasting and seeing that the Lord is sweet — and thus it comes about, as was said above, that prayer seeks, contemplation finds. You see, therefore, how perfection meets those who ascend by these steps, so that he who remains below cannot be perfect. Our purpose, then, ought always to be to ascend; but, since the mutability of our life is so great that we cannot stand in the same place, we are often compelled to look back upon things past, and, lest we lose that in which we are, we sometimes go back over what we have already passed through. For example: