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Concerning Grace And Free WillBy Saint Bernard Of ClairvauxCOPYRIGHT © 2024 BY eCatholic2000. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THE TREATISE OF ST. BERNARD ABBAT OF CLAIRVAUX CONCERNING GRACE AND FREE WILL ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM, ABBAT OF ST. THIERRY TRANSLATED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION SYNOPSIS AND NOTES BY WATKIN W. WILLIAMS, M.A., RECTOR OF DRAYTON ST. LEONARD, LONDON SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 1920 CONTENTS
INTRODUCTIONTHE treatise of St. Bernard De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio was written at some time shortly previous to the year 1128, and therefore before the author had attained his thirty-eighth year. St. Bernard, in a letter addressed to Hincmar, Chancellor of the Holy See, which the Benedictine editor dates as circ. an. mcxxviii, refers to the fact that Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, had asked him to send Hincmar some of his “opuscula”; he had at the time, so he thought, nothing at hand worthy of Hincmar’s attention, but he adds: “Libellum tamen De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio nuper edidi; illum uobis libenter mittam, cum uos uelle cognouero” (St. Bern. Epist. LII). That portion of the Vita Prima of St. Bernard (Books III, IV, and V) which was the work of Geoffrey of Auxerre, St. Bernard’s notarius at Clairvaux and afterwards himself abbat there, contains, in Book III, chap. viii. 29, which makes mention of a certain number of St. Bernard’s works and notices the extent to which they reveal his spirit, an interesting reference to the De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio: “Quam non ingratus gratiae Dei, ex his liquet quae de gratia et libero arbitrio quam fideliter, tam subtiliter disputauit.” The subject of the treatise was suggested, as is plain from the text itself, as the result of a public, or at any rate semi-public, discussion with some person unknown, in which St. Bernard, in strongly commending the work of grace, had seemed to lay himself open to the charge of unduly minimizing the function of free will. “Loquente me coram aliquando, et Dei in me gratiam commendante, quod scilicet ab ipsa me in bono et praeuentum agnoscerem, et prouehi sentirem, et sperarem perficiendum: Quid tu ergo, ait unus ex circumstantibus, operaris, aut quid mercedis speras uel praemii, si totum facit Deus?” (I, ad init.). The Praefatio of the treatise indicates that it was formally addressed to William, Abbat of St. Thierry, near Reims, the same person to whom St. Bernard addressed the Apologia, his memorable indictment alike of the spiritual pride of his own, and of the luxury of the Cluniac Order, and who was afterwards responsible for the first book of the Vita Prima. William had entered the Abbey of St. Thierry in about the year 1120, being translated thither from that of St. Nicolas in Saltu (St. Nicolas-aux-Bois), in the diocese of Laon, both of these houses of the Cistercian Order. He tells (Vita Prima St. Bern., I, vii. 33) the story of his visits to St. Bernard, and of the spell cast over him by the intense spirituality of the abbat. These visits appear to have begun about the time of St. Bernard’s recovery from the serious illness brought on by the severe austerities which he practised during the first few years after he was ordained Abbat of Clairvaux; a recovery due, in the main, to the obedience with which he carried out the injunctions of William of Champeaux, Bishop of Châlons, given under the authority of the Chapter of the Cistercian Order. Very frail, very tender, very beautiful must the saint have appeared, in the days of his convalescence, to William of St. Thierry; beautiful with the rare beauty of contented self-submission; tender with the tenderness of self-oblivion; frail with the frailty of self-neglect. “Eodem tempore,” he writes, “et ego Claram-uallam, ipsumque frequentare coepi; quem cum ibi cum quodam abbate altero uisitarem, inueni eum in suo illo tugario, quale leprosis in compitis publicis fieri solet. Inueni autem ex praecepto, ut dictum est, episcopi et abbatum seriatim ab omni sollicitudine domus, tam interiori, quam exteriori, uacantem Deo et sibi, et quasi in deliciis paradisi exultantem. Ingressusque regium illud cubiculum, cum considerarem habitationem, et habitatorem, tantam mihi, Deum testor, domus ipsa incutiebat reuerentiam sui, ac si ingrederer ad altare Dei. Tantaque affectus suauitate circa hominem illum, tantoque desiderio in paupertate illa et simplicitate cohabitandi ei, ut si optio illa die mihi data fuisset, nil tam optassem quam ibi cum eo semper manere ad seruiendum ei.” Such was his first impression of St, Bernard. The physician to whose care St. Bernard had been entrusted was, it seems, an incompetent person at the very least; and it is interesting to note, as his reply to William’s enquiry as to his health suggests, that the patient had not failed to take his measure. “Optime, inquit. Ego, cui hactenus homines rationabiles obediebant, iusto Dei iudicio, irrationali cuidam bestiae datus sum ad obediendum.” There was no bitterness in the words; he spoke them, writes William, “modo illo suo generoso arridens nobis”; it was just that saving sense of humour which is ever characteristic of a saint. How natural that William of St. Thierry should have been more jealous for the honour of St. Bernard than was the Abbat of Clairvaux himself! And when, on the question of free will, and again in the matter of the Cluniac controversy, reflections seemed possible, detrimental to the reputation of St. Bernard, it was William who urged him to state his case, and to whom he addressed the two masterly treatises, with one of which we are concerned. Indeed it is plain, as the Abbé Vacandard points out in a letter to the writer, that “leur amitié était si grande, et Bernard professait pour Guillaume une telle estime qu’on s’explique qu’il lui ait dédié son ouvrage.” Further information concerning the circumstances of St. Bernard’s relation to William of St. Thierry will be found in the Histoire Littéraire de La France, XII, pp. 312 sqq., under the article “Guillaume de St. Thierry,” as well as in Vacandard, Vie de Saint Bernard, I, Préface, and chaps. iii and vi. An attempt has been made to present the argument of the treatise by means of a synopsis, in which it is sought to familiarize the reader with the technology of the original, an important consideration from a theological point of view. The De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio deals rather with moral than with dogmatic theology. It is less scholastic, more on the level of the plain man, than the treatise of St. Anselm, which is identically entitled; and it is more general in its outlook, if one may so say, more modern, than St. Augustine’s treatises on the same subject, which, like the Canons of the Second Council of Orange (A.D. 529), are definitely addressed to the correction of a particular heresy maintained by skilled dialecticians at a particular period in history. Again, there is about it the fragrance of mystical theology; not the mystical theology of the esoteric, but that of the simple Christian living in the world. It is wonderful how this ascetic, this cloistered recluse, touches his subject with the hand of one who knows the pulsations of average humanity. The psychology—and there is much of incisive psychological analysis—is that of no mere thinker in the sphere of the abstract; it is the νοῦς πρακτικός which is at work throughout. The meaning and value of personality; its limitations; its responsibilities; its resources; its hopes; its possibilities; its destiny; all these are silhouetted with sharp distinctness of outline against a background of what we should now call Evangelicalism, only just not intense enough in its blaze to blind us to all else but the vision of grace, yet so delicately modified as to leave the impression that with no other background than this is it possible to know what human freedom really means. And it means so much! Yet, over against liberum consilium and liberum complacitum, the absolute freedom of volition as such, in other words, liberum arbitrium, libertas a necessitate which “nec peccato, nec miseria amittitur, uel minuitur,” is revealed in all the glory of its creation as the imago Dei, which “sui omnino de fectum seu diminutionem non patitur.” In this connection the analysis of St. Peter’s fall is masterly in its grip. Underlying it there is the distinction between, as St. Thomas defines them, the actus elicitus and the actus imperatus; at least, so it seems to the writer. The distinction between passive and active compulsion certainly suggests itself as an anticipation of St. Thomas. But on these points the Notes must speak for themselves. St. Bernard has a strong and clear sense of a universal unity, divinely created and providentially governed; a unity from which nothing is excluded, neither the fallen angels, nor lost men; a unity in which the Divine Word is immanent a summo coelo usque ad inferiores partes terrae; a maximo angelo usque ad minimum uermiculum; immanent, as St. Athanasius would say, κατὰ δύναμιν, and in such a fashion that He uses for His own purposes the ministeria of all created life, whether it be the insensibilis et irrationabilis creatura, or even mali, sine homines, siue angeli. It is, perhaps, needless to add that there is not in St. Bernard the faintest trace of the cruder pantheism which identifies the universe with God, nor of the more mystic type which proposes as the end of man, attained not by all but only by contemplatives in the highest grade of self-abstraction, such a union with the Deity as almost amounts to the annihilation of the separate human personality. St. Bernard’s mysticism is always regulated by an ineradicable conviction of the imperishable ego, eternally free and eternally responsible. Pantheism, even in its most sublimated form, is not for him. The personality of God is too absolutely incommunicable for such a thing to be possible. The extent to which St. Bernard is steeped in the Vulgate pre-eminently in the Gospels, the Pauline Epistles and the Sapiential Books, cannot fail to strike the reader. An attempt has been made to indicate every reminiscence that occurs; some, no doubt, will have escaped notice. It is interesting to discover that where his quotation, if it be so much as quotation, or his reminiscence, varies from the text of the Vulgate, it is frequently the case that the same variant is found when the same quotation or reminiscence occurs elsewhere in his writings. Occasionally, as might be expected, passages are made use of in a manner which the original does not support, a blemish, of course, for which, not St. Bernard, but the Latin Version is responsible. Researches made by my friend, the Rev. Barton Mills, have led to the conclusion that Mabillon’s text of St. Bernard’s writings, as presented in the Benedictine folio edition and in Migne’s Patrologia Latina, is far from trustworthy. It is not, perhaps, generally known that, when the Abbey of Clairvaux was sacked at the period of the French Revolution, a certain number of its literary treasures were rescued, and ultimately found an asylum in the Bibliothèque de la Ville at Troyes, where they still remain under the guardianship of the learned and courteous librarian, Mons. Morel-Payen. Amongst these treasures are two important MSS. of St. Bernard, numbered 426 and 799, which, in the opinion of experts, represent the textus receptus of St. Bernard’s works accredited at Clairvaux in the third quarter of the twelfth century. The primary concern of this edition of the De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio is, however, not textual criticism. The capitulation of Mabillon, with its summaries—there is no capitulation in the two MSS.—has been followed, but the paragraphing of the MSS. has always been indicated in the Notes; and certain illustrative variants have been recorded. The MSS. referred to in the Notes are, then, these two. Considerable portions of both of them have been carefully collated by Mr. Barton Mills, and I am deeply indebted to him in this, as in other matters connected with the work in hand. I have also to thank Mons. Vacandard, the distinguished author of the Vie de Saint Bernard, for several valuable suggestions. As regards the title of the treatise it will, doubtless, be observed that the words “liberum arbitrium” are in it translated “free will,” whereas in the text they are usually rendered “free choice.” The reason for this will become apparent to the reader as the argument proceeds. In St. Bernard’s view liberum arbitrium, liberum consilium and liberum complacitum, are all three co-ordinated states, either actual or possible, of the one uoluntas, and their mutual relation is better expressed if “free choice,” rather than “free will,” be used for the first. A certain pedantic flavour, however, suggested, at so early a stage, by the terms “free choice,” explains the preference of “free will” for the title. In conclusion I would say that, if anything has been written which either misrepresents the mind of St. Bernard, or is contrary to the teaching of Holy Church, I unhesitatingly withdraw it. WATKIN WILLIAMS. Drayton St. Leonard, Easter, 1920. PREFACEBROTHER BERNARD to the Lord William, Abbat of St. Thierry. The little work concerning grace and free will, which lately, upon the occasion that thou knowest, I began, I have now by that same grace of God, so far as I have been able, brought to a conclusion. I fear, however, that I may be found either to have spoken of high matters all too unworthily, or to have reopened needlessly the discussion of matters of which many have already treated sufficiently. Do thou therefore read it first of all and, if thou seest fit, alone; lest, should it be submitted to the judgement of men, perchance rather the temerity of the writer be exposed than the charity of the reader be established. But shouldest thou consider that it may profitably be made public, then, be there aught which seemeth to thee obscure, which, in a matter itself confessedly obscure, might be more clearly stated, due regard being had to brevity, do thou not hesitate either to amend it thyself or to refer it to me for amendment; otherwise shouldest thou defraud thyself of the promise of the Divine Wisdom, which saith: “They that bring me to light shall possess eternal life.” CHAPTER IThat to the merit of a good work is needed, together with the grace of God, the consent of the free will. IT happened once that, when I was publicly commending the grace of God towards me in that in any good work I both recognized that I had been prevented and felt that I was being furthered and hoped for full attainment, by its means, one of the bystanders demanded: What then is thine own work in the matter, or what recompense or reward dost thou hope for, if so be that God doeth it all? What then, I reply, dost thou advise? Give, saith he, the glory to God Who freely prevented thee, moved thee, originated thy good work, and live worthily for the time to come; so mayest thou prove thyself not ungrateful for benefits already received and not unworthy of receiving benefits in the future. Thou counsellest well, say I, provided only that thy counsel can be followed. But indeed easier is it to know what ought to be done than it is to do it; for one thing is it to lead the blind and another thing to carry the weary. Not every man that sheweth him the way giveth the wayfarer food for his journey. He that instructeth him so that his feet wander not doeth one thing; he that feedeth him so that he faint not by the way doeth another. Thus neither is every teacher also the giver of the good that he teacheth. Accordingly my need is twofold, namely, to be taught and to be helped to do what I am taught. Thou, as a mere man, truly givest excellent counsel to my ignorance, but, if the Apostle is to be believed, “The Spirit helpeth our infirmity,” yea, verily, it needeth that He Who by thy mouth giveth me such counsel, Himself give me by His Spirit help whereby I may obey it. For, see, already His gift to will is present with me, but “how to perform I find not,” nor have I any confidence that I shall ever find the way unless it be that He Who gave me the will give me also the power to perform the same. Where, then, sayest thou, are our merits? Or where is our hope? Listen, I pray: “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us.” What? Didst thou think, perchance, that thou hadst created thine own merits, that thou canst be saved by thine own righteousness, who canst not even say that Jesus is the Lord, save in the Holy Spirit? Hast thou then forgotten Who it is that said: “Without Me ye can do nothing,” and “It is not of him that runneth, nor of him that willeth, but of God that sheweth mercy”? What, therefore, thou askest, doth free will do? I answer in a word: It is saved. Take away free will and there remaineth nothing to be saved; take away grace and there is no means whereby it can be saved. This work of salvation cannot be wrought without two factors: the one, that by which it is wrought, and the other, that for which or in which it is wrought. God is the author of salvation; free will is merely receptive thereof; none can grant it save God alone, nothing can receive it save the free will. Thus then salvation is given by God alone, and it is given only to the free will; even as it cannot be wrought without the consent of the receiver, so cannot it be wrought without the grace of the giver. Accordingly free will is said to co-operate with the grace which worketh salvation, when the free will consenteth, that is to say, is saved; for to consent is to be saved. It followeth that the spirit of a brute can in no wise receive such salvation, for it lacketh the faculty of free consent whereby it may submissively obey the God that saveth it, whether by acquiescing in His commands, or by believing His promises, or by rendering thanks for His benefits. But consent of the will is one thing; natural appetite is another. The latter, indeed, is common to us with the irrational animals; nor hath it the power of giving consent to the spirit, being ensnared by the attractions of the flesh. And perhaps it is this of which the Apostle speaketh under another name as “The wisdom of the flesh,” where he saith: “The wisdom of the flesh is at enmity with God; for it is not subject to the law of God, as indeed it cannot be.” Having then (as I have said) this appetite in common with the brutes, it is voluntary consent which distinguisheth us from the same. It is a habit of the mind, self-determining. Voluntary consent is not under compulsion, nor can it be extorted. It is an act of the will; it is not subject to necessity; it neither denieth itself nor yieldeth itself to any, save only willingly. Otherwise, if it can be compelled to act when it would not, it is subject to force and not voluntary. But where there is not an act of will, there is not consent, for consent cannot be other than an act of will. Where, therefore, there is consent, there is an act of will. Moreover, where there is an act of will, there is freedom. In this sense it is that I understand the term free will. CHAPTER IIIn what freedom of will consisteth. IN order that what is said may be made plain, and that we may the more completely attain unto the end we seek, it needeth, I think, that we go somewhat further back in our enquiry. In the material world life is not the same thing as sense-perception; nor sense-perception as appetite; nor appetite as consent. This will be the more plain if we define each of these. There is in every corporeal being a life, which is an internal and natural movement, energizing only within the confines of such a being. Whereas sense-perception, which is a movement in the body and proper to its life, energizes outside its confines. The natural appetite, however, is an active force in the living being, whose function it is to move the senses to self-gratification. But consent is spontaneous assent of the will; or, indeed (as I remember that I have already said), it is a habit of the mind, self-determining. Further, will is a movement of reason, and rules over both sense-perception and appetite. In fact will, in whatever direction it determine itself, always hath reason as its companion, we may say, as its follower: not that it is always moved by reason, but that it never moveth without reason, in such a way that it doth many things by means of reason against reason, that is to say, as it were by the aid of its ministry but against its advice or judgement. Whence we read: “The children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light,” and again: “They are wise to do evil.” For no creature can be intelligent, even in wrong doing, save only by the aid of reason. But reason hath been given to the will in order to instruct it, not to destroy it. It would, however, destroy it, were it to impose upon it such necessity that it could not freely of its own choice determine itself, whether by wrongly consenting either to the appetite or to some evil spirit (in which case it would be merely animal, incapable of perceiving, in any case, of following after, the things which belong to the Spirit of God), or by accepting the leading of grace unto well-doing, and thus becoming that spiritual will which judgeth all things, but is itself judged of none. If, I say, the will were unable, owing to the prohibition of reason to take either of these courses, then it would cease to be the will. For where necessity is there is not free will. But if right or wrong could be done under compulsion, and without the consent of free will, in such case a reasonable creature ought indeed, on no valid ground, to suffer the doom of misery, nor could it fully enjoy blessedness, seeing that that faculty in it, which alone is capable either of misery or of blessedness, namely, the will, would be lacking. The aforesaid life, sense-perception, appetite, plainly do not of themselves produce either misery or blessedness; otherwise would the plants which possess life, and the beasts which possess the remaining two attributes also, be either liable to misery or fit for blessedness, which is altogether impossible. We possess, therefore, on the one hand, life in common with the plants, and on the other hand, as well as life, sense-perception and appetite in common with the beasts, while that which distinguisheth us from both is what is called will. And it is consent of the will, free, not necessitated, which, seeing that in it consisteth our righteousness or unrighteousness, maketh us deservedly blessed or the reverse. Such consent, then, on account both of the inalienable freedom of the will, and of the inevitable judgement which reason everywhere and at all times exerciseth when we act, is not (as I think), unfittingly called free choice, being self-determining on account of the will, and self-judging on account of the reason. And rightly doth judgement accompany freedom, seeing that he that is free to determine himself, when he sinneth, judgeth himself. There is a judicial sentence passed, because, if he sinneth, he, who need not sin unless he would, justly suffereth what he would not. Moreover, were the will not acknowledged to be free, how could either good or evil justly be imputed to it? Necessity, indeed, removeth responsibility for both of these. Further, where necessity is, there is not freedom; where freedom is not, there is neither merit, nor its correlative, judgement, excluding altogether original sin, which it is agreed is of a different order from personal sin. Thus it remaineth that whatsoever hath not this liberty of free consent, undoubtedly can neither merit nor be subject to judgement. Therefore, save only the will, all that belongeth to man, seeing that it is incapable of self-determination, is a matter neither for the award of merit nor for judgement. Life, sense-perception, appetite, memory, thought, and anything else of such kind that there may be, are subject to necessity, except in so far as they are subject to the will. But it is impossible for the will, which cannot of its very nature do otherwise than obey itself (for there is none who doth not will what he willeth, or who willeth what he doth not will), to be deprived of its freedom. The will can, indeed, be changed, but only to another will, in such a way that it never loseth its freedom. Therefore it can no more be deprived of its freedom than it can be deprived of itself. Were a man ever able either to will nothing at all, or to will anything unwillingly, then and then only would the will be able to be deprived of its freedom. Hence it is that to the insane, to infants, and also to persons asleep, nothing which they may do, whether it be good or bad, is imputed; because, plainly, just as they are not in possession of reason, so do they not possess the use of their own wills, and therefore their freedom is not subject to judgement. Seeing, then, that the will hath nothing free save itself, it is only rightly judged as it is in itself. Indeed, neither slowness of intellect, nor lapse of memory, nor restlessness of appetite, nor obtuseness of sense-perception, nor feebleness of vitality, of themselves bring a man into condemnation, even as their contraries do not make him innocent; and this for no other reason than that these conditions are proved to be caused necessarily, and independently of the will. CHAPTER IIIThat there is a threefold freedom: that of nature, that of grace, and that of glory. IT is the will alone therefore which, seeing that by reason of its innate freedom it is compelled by no necessity either to disagree with itself or to consent in any matter in spite of itself, rightly maketh a man, as being under no compulsion to be either righteous or unrighteous, fittingly capable of blessedness or of misery; provided, that is to say, that it hath given its consent whether to righteousness or to unrighteousness. Accordingly I think that this free consent of the will, upon which (as aforesaid) every act of judgement is founded, is not unsuitably wont to be called, as we have already defined it, free choice, the word “free” having reference to the will, and the word “choice” to the reason. Yet is it not necessarily free with that liberty of which the Apostle speaketh: “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” This is that freedom from sin of which he saith elsewhere: “When ye were the servants of sin ye were free from righteousness.… But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.” But who is there in the sinful flesh that can claim for himself freedom from sin? Of this liberty free choice can, I think, by no means rightly be said to be possessed. There is also a freedom from misery of which the Apostle speaketh likewise: “The creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” But doth any man claim to possess such freedom in this our mortal state? Therefore we rightly refuse to call the will free in respect of this freedom. But there is a freedom which, I think, is more proper to the will, and of which we can speak as freedom from necessity, on the ground that what is necessary seemeth to be the contrary of what is free, in the sense that what is done of necessity is not freely done; and the converse. Seeing therefore that, as may have occurred to us, there is set before us a threefold freedom, that from sin, that from misery, and that from necessity; the last of these is bestowed upon us in the state of nature, the first is restored to us by grace, and the second is reserved for us in the fatherland. Let us then call that which is first in order of development the freedom of nature, that which is second, the freedom of grace, and that which is third, the freedom of life or of glory. By the first were we created with freedom of will to choose as we will, creatures ennobled for the service of God; by the second are we restored to innocence, newly created in Christ; by the third are we raised to the state of glory, creatures perfected in the Spirit. Thus the first freedom hath great honour, the second hath more abundant virtue, the last hath superabundant delight. It is indeed in virtue of the first that we rule the brutes; in virtue of the second that we subdue the flesh; in virtue of the third that we overcome death; or, let us say, just as in the gift of the first freedom God put under our feet sheep and oxen and the beasts of the field, so also by means of the second freedom He in like manner casteth down and crusheth beneath our feet those spiritual beasts of this world, of which it is said: “Deliver not to the beasts the souls that confess to Thee.” Finally, in the third state of freedom, when He shall have fully subdued us to ourselves by means of victory over corruption and over death, when, that is to say, the last enemy, death, shall have been destroyed, then shall we pass unto the glorious freedom of the sons of God, the freedom wherewith Christ shall make us free when He shall deliver us over as His kingdom to God, even the Father. It was of this freedom, as also of that which we have called freedom from sin, that, as I think, He spake, when He said unto the Jews: “If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” He would signify that free choice needeth a liberator; but plainly not a liberator from necessity of which, by the very fact that it is the function of the will, it could know nothing; but a liberator from sin, into which it freely and of itself had fallen, and at the same time from the penalty of sin, which it had heedlessly incurred and was unwillingly bearing, from neither of which could it at all be set free, save only by means of Him Who alone of men was made free among the dead; free, that is to say, from sin, yet living in the midst of sinners. For He alone among the sons of Adam claimeth for Himself freedom from sin, “Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth.” Moreover from misery also, which is the penalty of sin, was He, potentially though not actually, none the less free. No man indeed took away His life; He laid it down of Himself. Finally, as the prophet beareth witness: “He was offered because He willed so to be”; even as also, when He willed, He was “born of a woman, made under the law, that He might redeem them that were under the law.” Thus was He Himself also subject to the law of misery; but this was because He so willed, in order that, free among the miserable and sinners, He might break the yoke of misery and sin from off the necks of His brethren. Accordingly He possessed in full these three kinds of freedom, the first (that from necessity) in virtue both of His divine and of His human natures, and the rest in virtue of His divine power. Whether, or in what manner, and to what extent, the first man possessed in Paradise these two last-mentioned kinds of freedom we shall see later. CHAPTER IVWhat kind of freedom belongeth to the holy souls in their disembodied state: what kind belongeth to God, and what kind is common to all reasonable creatures. WE must, however, understand that both these kinds of freedom are possessed in fulness and perfection by the disembodied souls which have been made ‘perfect, even as they are possessed by God and by His Christ and by the angels in heaven. To the holy souls indeed, who have not yet received their bodies, there lacketh something of glory; nevertheless they have no misery. Freedom from necessity, however, belongeth to all reasonable creatures, whether evil or good, equally and indifferently with God. Nor is this freedom lost, or diminished, either by sin or by misery; nor is it greater in the righteous than in the unrighteous, or more complete in the angels than in men. For even as by means of grace the consent of the human will is given to well-doing, so that, by the fact that it is willingly given and not unwillingly compelled, it maketh a man freely good and free in well-doing; thus also the consent of the will, when of its own accord turned aside to evil, maketh a man none the less both free and self-determining in evil-doing, being indeed led by his own will and not compelled by any outside force to become evil. And as the angels in heaven, or even God Himself, remain good freely, that is to say, of their own will, and not of any extrinsic necessity; so the devil both fell into evil-doing and persisteth therein equally freely, that is to say, of his own free motion, and not by the compulsion of another. Therefore freedom of will remaineth, even where there is captivity of mind, certainly as fully in the evil as in the good, though in a more ordered state in the good; it remaineth also as completely, after its proper fashion, in human creatures as it doth in the Creator, though in Him it is more powerful. But as to the fact that men are wont to complain, and say: I will to possess a good will and I am unable so to do; this by no means implieth a restriction of its freedom, so that in such a case the will as it were suffereth violence or is subject to necessity; but plainly witnesseth that the will lacketh that freedom which is called freedom from sin. For he that willeth to possess a good will proveth that he possesseth a will, for it is only by means of the will that he willeth to possess a good will; but if he possesseth a will, then hath he freedom, not from sin but from necessity. Truly he perceiveth of himself that he hath not freedom, so as to be able, when he willeth, to possess a good will; freedom, plainly, from sin by which it grieveth him that his will is oppressed, though not suppressed. Yet without doubt he already hath in some way a good will, when he willeth to possess such a will. What he willeth is, in fact, good; nor could he will what is good unless by a good will; even as he could not will what is evil unless by an evil will. When we will what is good, that is a good will; when we will what is evil, that is an evil will. In both cases there is will, and everywhere there is freedom: necessity yieldeth to will. But when we cannot do what we will, we perceive indeed that our freedom is by reason of sin in a certain way miserable, though not lost. It is, therefore, simply from this freedom, by which the will is free to judge itself, whether as good, if it have consented to well-doing, or as evil, if to evil-doing (forsooth it perceiveth plainly that it is only by an act of will that it hath consented to either of the two), that we believe free determination to be so called. For freedom from sin might, perhaps, more fittingly be called free counsel, and freedom from misery free pleasure, rather than free determination. As a fact determination is judgement. But just as it belongeth to judgement to distinguish between what may and what may not be allowable, so it belongeth to counsel to show what may and what may not be expedient, and to pleasure to discover what may and what may not be agreeable. Would that we as freely took counsel for our profit as we judge concerning the allowableness of our deeds, so that, even as by judgement we freely decide as to the allowable and the non-allowable, so by counsel we were free to choose for ourselves the allowable as expedient, and to reject the non-allowable as inexpedient! For in such a case we should be not only free in judgement, but without doubt also free in counsel, and therefore free from sin. But what if either the freedom to approve what is expedient, or the freedom to judge what is allowable, give us also the other kinds of freedom? Should we not then rightly be said to possess free pleasure also, seeing that we should perceive ourselves to be free in the same manner from everything that could displease, that is from all misery? But, as it is; seeing that there are many things which by the judgement we decide ought to be either done or not done, which yet by the counsel we neither approve nor reject in accordance with right judgement; and, again, seeing that not all things which we approve as right and expedient do we also freely welcome as well-pleasing to us, but that rather we impatiently endure them as hard and painful; such being the case, is it sufficiently plain that we possess neither free counsel nor free pleasure. It is another question whether, even before sin entered in, the first man had free pleasure; this shall be discussed in its proper place. But quite certainly we shall possess it, when by the mercy of God we shall obtain what we pray for when we say: “Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” For this shall be fulfilled when that which (as hath been said) seemeth to be common everywhere to all reasonable creatures, namely, a will free from necessity, shall be (as it is in the holy angels) both secure from sin and safe from misery in the elect of mankind also, who shall at length prove by the happy experience of a threefold freedom “what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” Meanwhile, because this hath not yet come to pass, it is freedom of choice alone which in its fulness and integrity man now possesseth. For freedom of counsel existeth but in a measure only, and that in a few spiritual persons, who “have crucified their flesh with its vices and desires,” so that sin may not reign in their mortal body Thus then that sin doth not reign cometh of freedom of counsel; that sin, however, is not wholly lacking cometh of the captivity of the will. “But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away”; that is to say, when the judgement shall be wholly free, there shall no longer be any captivity of the will. And this it is for which every day we pray, when we say unto God: “Thy kingdom come.” Not yet is this kingdom fully established amongst us. Nevertheless every day little by little it draweth near, and with sensible increase are its borders daily extended, at least in those whose inward man is by the help of God “renewed from day to day.” Therefore in the measure in which the kingdom of grace is extended, in that measure is the power of sin diminished. But in the measure in which, on account of the body of death which “presseth down the soul,” and on account of the straitened state of our earthly habitation, which indeed “weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things,” the kingdom of grace is still restricted, in that measure in this our mortal life even they who seem to be somewhat nigh unto perfection are under necessity of confessing: “In many things we offend all,” and “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” Wherefore it is that they pray without ceasing, saying: “Thy kingdom come.” But this will not be consummated even in them, until not only doth not sin reign in their mortal body, but there neither is nor can be any sin at all in the body then immortal. CHAPTER VWhether freedom from misery, or freedom of counsel, is granted in this world. WHAT now are we to say as regardeth the existence of freedom of pleasure in this wicked world, in which scarcely “sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof”; in which “the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now,” being indeed “made subject to vanity, not willingly”; where the life of man upon the earth consisteth in temptation; where even spiritual men, who “already have received the firstfruits of the Spirit, even they groan within themselves waiting for the redemption of their bodies”? Can it at all be that, under such conditions, there is any place for freedom of the kind of which we speak? For neither will innocence, nor righteousness, be found to be safe either from sin or yet from misery in a world in which the righteous man crieth out: “O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” and again: “My tears have been my meat day and night.” Where nights and days are passed in mourning, there surely is no time to spare for taking pleasure. Finally, they that would live godly in Christ themselves suffer persecution the more; for judgement beginneth at the house of God. Which also He commandeth, saying: “Begin at them of my household.” But although virtue be in no place of safety in this world, perchance vice is, and in some measure enjoyeth pleasure and escapeth misery. Far from it. For they that rejoice where they have done evil, and exult in deeds of infamy, do but laugh with the wild laughter of the mad. But no misery is more genuine than is false joy. In short, what in this world seemeth to be happiness is so far misery, that the wise man saith: “It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting.” There is certainly some pleasure in the good things of the body, namely, in eating, drinking, warming oneself, and other the like comforts or coverings of the flesh. But can it be said that even in these matters we are wholly free from misery? Bread is good, but to the hungry; drink delighteth, but the thirsty; in fact, to him that is satisfied food and drink are by no means pleasant, but distasteful. Take away hunger, and thou wilt not relish bread; take away thirst, and thou wilt decline the most limpid fountain as though it were a stagnant marsh. In like manner is it only he that is faint with heat that seeketh shade; and only he that is chilled or in the gloom troubleth himself about the sun. None of these things will be pleasing to a man unless urgent need have gone before. If the need be taken away, then the very pleasantness which seemeth to be in them is turned into loathing and disgust. It must be confessed, therefore, that, in this respect, everything which belongeth unto our present life, partaketh of misery; unless it be that, in the continual trials of our heavier labours, our lighter labours are, as it were, a kind of consolation, and, while perchance, as time passeth and conditions change, tedium and relief follow one upon another, the experience of the lesser labours seemeth unto us to be some reprieve from misery, so that sometimes the passage from the more painful to the less irksome toil is counted for felicity. And yet it must be confessed that they who, at times rapt in spirit through excess of contemplation, are in some small measure able to taste the sweetness of heavenly felicity, are indeed, as often as they experience such a state, free from misery. Plainly these, as cannot be denied, even in the flesh, although but seldom and only in their raptures, enjoy freedom of pleasure, in that with Mary they “have chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from them.” For they that now possess what cannot be taken away from them in truth have experience of that which is to come. But that which is to come is felicity. Moreover felicity and misery cannot exist together at the same moment. As often therefore as they partake of the former, so often do they not feel the latter. Accordingly it is only contemplatives who in this life are in any degree able to enjoy freedom of pleasure, and that but in part, in very small part, and upon the rarest occasion. Beyond this there are even some righteous persons who enjoy freedom of counsel, in part certainly, but in considerable part. For the rest, freedom of will (as hath been plainly shown above) belongeth equally to all who have the use of reason; as such, it is none the less in the evil than in the good, it is as entire in the present world as in the world to come. CHAPTER VIThat grace is altogether necessary in order that we may will what is good. IT hath, I think, been sufficiently shown that this freedom of will is yet in certain fashion held captive, so long as the other two kinds of freedom scarcely at all, or only in a small measure, accompany it; and that from no other cause than the lack of these two kinds of freedom ariseth that defect of ours of which the Apostle speaketh, saying: “So that ye cannot do the things that ye would.” To will indeed belongeth to us in virtue of free choice, but not also the power to do what we will. I do not speak of willing what is good, nor of willing what is evil, but merely of willing. For to will what is good is a moral success, to will what is evil is a moral failure. But the simple act of willing, that it is which either succeedeth or faileth. Further, it is creative grace which gave existence to the will; it is saving grace which giveth it moral success; it is the will itself which bringeth about its own moral failure. Accordingly, free choice maketh us possessed of will; grace maketh us possessed of good will. It is in virtue of free choice that we will, it is in virtue of grace that we will what is good. For even as it is one thing simply to fear, and another thing to fear God; one thing simply to love and another thing to love God (indeed, the terms fear and love, considered merely in the abstract, signify affections, but with the addition of the object they signify virtues); so also is it one thing to will and another thing to will what is good. The affections, truly, considered simply in themselves, belong to us by nature; in a certain sense they originate from ourselves; that they are directed towards their proper objects is due to grace. Nor, indeed, is the case otherwise than that grace ordereth aright what creation hath bestowed, so that the virtues are none else than the affections rightly ordered. It is written concerning certain men that “there they were in great fear, where no fear was.” There was fear, but it was unregulated fear. The Lord wished to regulate it aright in His disciples, when He said: “I will show you whom ye ought to fear”; so also David saith: “Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord.” Thus, too, did the Lord rebuke men for unregulated love, saying: “I came as the light into this world, and men loved darkness rather than light.” Therefore is it that the bride prayeth in the Song of Songs: “Order love in me aright.” In like manner also were they rebuked for an unregulated will, to whom it was said: “Ye know not what ye ask.” But they were taught to lead back the perverted will into the way of righteousness, when they heard: “Are ye able to drink of the cup that I am about to drink of?” Then indeed by word, but afterward by example also, He taught them to order the will aright, when, praying, in the hour of His passion, that the cup might pass from Him, He added immediately: “Nevertheless not what I will, but what Thou wilt.” Therefore we have received from God in the state of nature the power to will, in the same way as we have received the power to fear and the power to love, so that thus we might be simply created beings; but to will what is good, even as to fear and to love God, we receive by the visitation of grace, so that thus we may become (not simply creatures but) God’s creatures. In a certain manner then, created as our own possession for freedom of will, by means of goodness of will we are made God’s possession. Moreover it is He that made the will free, Who also maketh it good; and to this end doth He make it good “that we may be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures”: since, better were it for us not to have existed at all than for us to remain always our own possession. For they, who willed to be their own possession, became indeed “as gods, knowing good and evil”; but they did not then belong only to themselves, they belonged to the devil also. Accordingly free will maketh us our own; evil will maketh us the devil’s; good will maketh us God’s. This is the meaning of the words: “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” For to them that are not His He saith: “Verily I say unto you, I know you not.” When, therefore, by reason of evil will we belong to the devil, in a certain sense we do not meanwhile belong to God: even as when by reason of good will we become God’s possession, we then cease to be the devil’s; seeing that “No man can serve two masters.” For the rest, whether we belong to God or to the devil, we do not cease to belong to ourselves also. Indeed free will remaineth to us in either case, whereby there remaineth also the ground of merit; so that deservedly we are either punished as evil persons, who have of their own will freely become such, or glorified as good, which equally we cannot be save only as free agents. In truth it is our own will, and not the power of God, which delivereth us over to the devil: it is God’s grace, and not our own will, which maketh us subject to God. Our will, of course, was (as must be confessed) created good by the good God; it will not, however, be perfect until it hath been perfectly subjected to its Creator. But far be it from us to ascribe to the will itself its own perfection, while we ascribe to God its creation only; seeing that, without doubt it is better for it to be perfect than for it to have been simply made; and that, indeed, it seemeth to be blasphemy to ascribe to God the lesser, and to ourselves the more excellent work. Finally the Apostle, perceiving what was of nature, and what was to be expected of grace, said: “To will is present with me, but how to will perfectly I find not.” He knew for a fact that he was able to will, as possessing free choice; but that, in order that he might will perfectly, he was in need of grace. For if to will what is evil is, as it were, a failure of the will, then to will what is good must be a success of the will; for the will, however, to be able to will everything that is good is its perfection. In order, therefore, to the perfection of that will of ours, which we possess in virtue of free choice, we stand in need of a twofold gift of grace, namely, both wisdom, which is the conversion of the will to what is good, and also full power, which is its establishing in the good. Now perfect conversion is conversion to what is good, to the end that nothing may be pleasing save only what is fitting, or what is lawful; perfect establishing in the good is to the end that nothing which is thus pleasing may any longer be lacking. Then at length shall the will be perfect, when it shall have become both completely good and well satisfied. The will possesseth, certainly, a twofold goodness from the beginning of its existence; the one, a general goodness derived from the mere fact of its creation, in that it could not have been created other than good by the good God, for “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good”; the other, a special goodness derived from the freedom of choice, in virtue of which it was made even after the image of Him Who created it. Suppose now that to these two goods be added a third, its conversion to its Creator; then not unfittingly will the will be counted perfectly good; good, without doubt, as a mere created thing, better by reason of its special gift of freedom, best by reason of its being regulated aright. But the regulation of the will consisteth in its conversion in every single respect to God, in its entire and free devotion and submission to Him. To such perfect righteousness, however, is rightly due, nay, indeed, is actually joined the fulness of glory; for these two things are so united the one to the other that the perfection of righteousness cannot be possessed, save only in the fulness of glory; nor can there be fulness of glory apart from perfect righteousness. Finally, as a matter of due merit, there can be no such righteousness apart from glory, seeing that there can be no true glory which is not derived from such righteousness; wherefore it is rightly said: “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.” But these are those two gifts of which we have above spoken, namely, true wisdom and full power; thus wisdom concerneth righteousness, and power concerneth glory. The terms “true” and “full” are added, the one in order to distinguish from the wisdom of the flesh, which is death, as well as from the wisdom of the world, which is foolishness with God, and by which men are wise in their own sight, “wise,” I mean, “to do evil”; the other, in order to distinguish from them of whom it is said: “Mighty men shall be mightily tormented.” For neither true wisdom nor full power are to be found at all, except there are joined to the free will those two possessions, to which we have earlier referred, namely, freedom of counsel and freedom of pleasure. I should say that, certainly, he alone possesseth true wisdom and full power, who is at last able not only to will in virtue of free choice, but also to will perfectly in virtue of the remaining two kinds of freedom, seeing that he can no longer will what is evil, nor fail in the attainment of what he wills; of which results the one, namely, true wisdom, cometh of freedom of counsel, and the other, namely, full power, cometh of freedom of pleasure. But who would dare to boast, because man hath it within his reach to become such and so great as this? Where, or when, is such an end attained? Surely, not in this world, is it? Were any disposed so to boast, he would be greater than Paul, who confesseth, saying: “How to will perfectly I find not.” Was Adam in Paradise such and so great as this? Surely, had it been so, never would he have been an exile therefrom. CHAPTER VIIWhether the first man in Paradise was endowed with this threefold freedom, and how far his endowment was lost by sin. IT is now the place to consider a question which we have so far deferred, namely, whether the first man possessed in Paradise those three kinds of freedom of which we have spoken, that is to say, freedom of choice, of counsel and of pleasure, or, in other words, freedom from necessity, from sin, and from misery, in all their fullness; or but two of them, or only one. And indeed, concerning the first of these, there is now no question, if we remember how plainly higher reason hath taught us that it is equally the possession of the righteous and of sinners. Concerning the remaining two it may not improperly be asked whether Adam ever possessed either both, or so much as one of them? For, if he possessed neither of them at all, what is it that he lost? Freedom of choice, at any rate, he always preserved intact both before and after his sin. If he lost nothing, in what did he suffer by being cast out of Paradise? But if he lost either one of them, how did he lose it? What is certain is that, from the time that he sinned, thenceforward, so long as he remained in the flesh, he was free neither from sin nor from misery. But again, he could in no measure have lost either of these freedoms, when he had once received it; otherwise he cannot be proved to have possessed in their perfection either wisdom or power, as we have above defined them, for he would have been able both to will what he ought not to have willed and to receive what he was not willing to receive. Or should it rather be said that, in a certain measure, he possessed wisdom and power, but that, because he did not possess them in their fullness, he was able to lose them? For, indeed, each of these hath two degrees, a higher and a lower. The higher degree of freedom of counsel is not to be able to sin; the lower degree is to be able not to sin. So also the higher degree of freedom of pleasure is not to be able to be disturbed; the lower degree is to be able not to be disturbed. Accordingly \[the first\] man received at his creation the lower degrees of both kinds of freedom together with full freedom of choice, and, when he fell into sin, lost the two former. But he fell from the state of being able not to sin into that of not being able not to sin, having wholly lost freedom of counsel. So too did man fall from the state of being able not to be disturbed into that of not being able not to be disturbed, having wholly lost freedom of pleasure. There remained to him only freedom of choice, and that subject to punishment, in that by its means he lost the other kinds of freedom; but it he could not lose. Having, indeed, by his own will become the servant of sin, deservedly he lost freedom of counsel. Further, having by reason of sin become liable to pay the penalty of death, how was he any longer able to keep possession of freedom of pleasure? Of the three kinds of freedom, therefore, which he had received, Adam, by the abuse of that which is called freedom of choice, deprived himself of the rest. But he abused it by the fact that, when he had received it for his glory, he made of it his disgrace, according to the testimony of the Scripture which saith: “Man when he was in honour, had no understanding; he was compared unto the foolish beasts, and become like unto them.” To man alone, amongst living creatures, was it given, on account of his prerogative of free choice, to be able to sin. But it was given to him not in order that he should accordingly sin, but in order that, if he did not sin when he was able to have sinned, he might appear more glorious. For what could have redounded more to his glory, than if it could have been said of him, as the Scripture runneth: “Who is he, and we will praise him?” Why is he thus praiseworthy? “For wondrous things he did while he lived.” What things? “Who was able to transgress,” it saith, “yet did he not transgress; to do evil yet did he not do evil.” This honour, then, he preserved so long as he did not sin; when he sinned he lost it. But he sinned, because he was free to sin; nor was he free otherwise than by virtue of freedom of choice, whence it was indeed that he had in him the possibility of sinning. Yet was it not the fault of Him who gave him free choice, but of himself who abused it, in that plainly he converted to the use of sinning the faculty which he had received for the glory of not sinning. For although he sinned by means of the power which he received, he did not sin because he possessed the power to do so, but because he willed to do so. For, when the devil and his angels sinned, the rest also of the angels did not sin; not because they were not able to sin, but because they did not will to sin. Man’s fall, when he sinned, is to be ascribed, therefore, not to the gift of the power to sin, but to the fault of the will. Nevertheless, though he fell by an act of will, he hath it not equally in his power by an act of will to rise again free from sin; because although there was given to the will the power so to stand that it should not fall, there was not given it the power to rise again, if it fell. For not so easy is it to get out of a pit as it is to fall into it. By an act of will alone man fell into the pit of sin; but no act of will is sufficient to enable him to rise again, seeing that now, even if he so will, he is not able not to sin. CHAPTER VIIIThat free choice remaineth after sin hath entered in. WHAT then? Hath free choice perished, because man is not able not to sin? By no means: but man hath lost free counsel, by means of which he before possessed the power not to sin; he lost it, moreover, in such a manner that, because he is not able indeed any longer not to be disturbed, it befalleth him in his wretched state to have lost also freedom of pleasure, by means of which he before possessed also the power of being able not to be disturbed. There remaineth, therefore, even after sin, freedom of choice, which, although in a state of misery, is yet intact. And the fact that man is not able of himself to shake himself free of the bondage of sin, or of misery, doth not signify the destruction of freedom of choice, but privation of the two remaining kinds of freedom. For there neither belongeth, nor ever hath belonged, to freedom of choice, as such, to possess either power or wisdom, but merely will: it maketh us neither able, nor wise, but simply willing. Therefore we are not to be thought to have lost freedom of choice, if we cease to be either powerful or wise, but only if we cease to be willing. For where there is not will, there is not freedom. I do not say, if we ceased to will what is good, but if we ceased to will at all: it must be allowed without contradiction that, when the will—not goodness of will—no longer existeth, then also freedom of choice is lost. But if the case be that the will is merely unable to will what is good, it meaneth that it lacketh, not freedom of choice, but freedom of counsel. Again, if the will be unable, not indeed to will what is good, but to perform the good which it willeth, then let it be assured that it lacketh freedom of pleasure, not that it hath lost freedom of choice. If, then, freedom of choice everywhere accompanieth the will, in such a way that, unless the will wholly cease to be itself, it lacketh it not, but alike in evil and in good remaineth the will; thus none the less doth free choice also abide in its fulness whether in evil or in good. And as the will, even when in the state of misery, doth not cease to be the will, but is called, and is, the miserable will, as it is also called, and is, the blessed will; so also can neither any adversity, nor necessity, either destroy or (so far as in it lieth) in any degree lessen freedom of choice. But, although free choice remaineth everywhere equally without any diminution, nevertheless it will not find itself able of itself to revive from an evil to a good state, after the same fashion in which of itself it was able to fall from a good into an evil state. And what wonder is it if one that lieth prone be not able of himself to rise again, seeing that when standing upright he was unable by any effort of his own to advance to a better position? In fine, while freedom of choice still in some measure had with it the other two kinds of freedom, it was unable from the lower vantage ground of them to rise to higher levels, that is to say, to rise from the states of being able not to sin and being able not to be disturbed to those of not being able to sin and not being able to be disturbed: but if, even however aided by those other two kinds of freedom, it yet was not strong enough to advance from the good to the better, how much less, now that it is deprived of them, will it be able of itself to escape from evil to the good in which it stood of old? Man, therefore, hath need of “the power of God, and the wisdom of God,” even Christ, in order that, by reason of the fact that He is wisdom, He may reinfuse into him true wisdom, and thus restore to him the state of freedom of counsel, and in order that, by reason of the fact that He is power, He may re-establish in him full power, and thus restore to him the state of freedom of pleasure; in such a measure that, being in virtue of the one perfectly good, he may no longer know sin, and, being in virtue of the other completely blessed, he may suffer no adversity. But in truth it is in the future life that such perfection as this is to be expected, when both kinds of freedom now lost will be restored to free choice; not merely in the measure in which in this world they are restored to any righteous person, however perfect he may be; nor merely in the measure in which it was granted even to our first parents to possess them in Paradise; but as already now the angels possess them in heaven. Meanwhile, however, let it suffice in this body of death, and in this evil world, that by freedom of counsel we obey not sin in lust, while by freedom of pleasure we fear not to suffer adversity for righteousness’ sake. But, in this sinful flesh and in this evil day, if not wholly to lack, certainly not to consent to sin, this is in no small measure to be wise; and, if not yet wholly to enjoy felicity, at least for truth’s sake manfully to endure contempt, this is in no small measure to be powerful. Truly it behoveth us here, meanwhile, by freedom of counsel to learn no longer to abuse freedom of choice, in order that in the future we may be able fully to enjoy freedom of pleasure. Thus, indeed, we are restoring in ourselves the image of God; thus by means of grace we are being prepared to win that ancient honour which we lost through sin. And blessed is he who shall deserve to hear it said concerning himself: “Who is he, and we will praise him? For he did wondrous things while he lived; he was able to transgress, yet did he not transgress; to do evil, yet did he not do evil.” CHAPTER IXThat the image and the likeness of God, in which we were created, consist in a threefold freedom. NOW I think that in these three kinds of freedom consist the very image and the likeness of the Creator, in which we were created; that the image indeed consisteth in freedom of choice, while in the remaining two kinds of freedom is revealed a certain two-sided likeness. Hence it is, perhaps, that freedom of choice alone suffereth not at all any defect or diminution of itself, because it is in it above all else that, as it were, may be seen impressed the substantial image of the eternal and unchangeable Godhead. For although it had a beginning, yet it knoweth not destruction; neither hath it any increase from righteousness or from glory, nor doth it suffer any diminution from sin or from misery. What is there that, while it is not eternal, is more like unto eternity than is this? Further in the other two kinds of freedom, seeing that they can be not only partly diminished, but also wholly lost, we recognize as it were a likeness of divine wisdom, and a likeness of divine power, added to the divine image. Finally we have lost them both by sin, and we have recovered them both by grace; and every day, indeed, we either advance in them, or we fall back from them, some of us more, others of us less. They can also be so lost that they cannot any longer be recovered; and they can be so possessed that they can never at any time be either lost or diminished. In this two-sided divine likeness of wisdom and of power, not indeed in its highest degree, but in that which is next to the highest, was man created in Paradise. For what is nearer to the state of not being able to sin, or to be disturbed (in which without doubt the holy angels are now confirmed, and in which God always exists), than that of being able not to sin and not to be disturbed, in which, we know, man was created? And he—nay, rather, we in him and with him, having by means of sin fallen from this state, have by means of grace received again, not indeed the very same degree thereof, but in place of it a certain lower degree. For we are not able to exist here in this world entirely without sin, or without misery; although we are able, by the aid of grace, to avoid being overcome by sin, or by misery. Nevertheless Scripture saith: “Whatsoever is born of God, sinneth not.” But this is said of them that are predestined unto life, not meaning that they do not sin at all, but that sin is not imputed unto them, being either punished by befitting penance, or in love put utterly away. “Love,” indeed, “covereth a multitude of sins,” and “Blessed are they whose unrighteousnesses are forgiven, and whose sins are covered.” The angels therefore are in the highest, not the lowest grade, of the divine likeness, we are in the lowest; Adam was in the intermediate grade; the evil spirits, again, are in no such grade at all. To the angels in heaven then it was granted to endure to the end without sin and without misery; but to Adam it was granted to exist without these, though not also to continue to exist without them; to us, however, it was not granted even to exist without them, but only not to be overcome by them. For the rest, the devil and his angels, even as they never have the will to resist sin, so are they never able to escape the penalty of sin. Seeing, therefore, that these two kinds of freedom, freedom of counsel and freedom of pleasure, by means of which wisdom and power are supplied to reasonable creatures, do, by the dispensation of God, vary according as He willeth, in respect of certain causes, places and times—so that on earth they are possessed but in very small measure; in heaven fully; in the intermediate state moderately; in hell not at all—whereas freedom of choice, wherewith reasonable beings were created, is in no degree whatsoever changed by their condition, but (so far as it is free choice) is always equally possessed in heaven, on earth, and in hell; (seeing that this is so) it is only fitting that the two former should be held to be the divine likeness, and the latter the divine image. And indeed that in hell both kinds of freedom, which belong to the divine likeness, have perished, the authority of Scripture testifieth. For that there true wisdom which cometh, we know, of freedom of counsel, doth not exist at all that passage showeth, where we read: “Whatsoever thy hand can do, do it with all thy might: for there is neither work, nor judgement, nor wisdom in the lower world, whither thou hastenest.” Moreover, concerning power, which is granted by means of freedom of pleasure, the Gospel saith as followeth: “Bind him hand and foot, cast him into outer darkness.” For what is binding of the hands and feet, if not complete deprivation of power? But some one saith: How cometh it that there is not any wisdom there, where the ills that are suffered compel repentance for the ills that have been wrought? Surely it cannot be either that in torment a man cannot repent, or that to repent of evil is not true wisdom? Now this objection would rightly be raised, were it the case that what is punished is merely the deed of sin, and not also the evil will. Certainly there is no doubt but that no one in torment delighteth to repeat an act of sin. But if, even in torment, the will remaineth evil, what value hath the abnegation of an evil act, that any man should therefore be accounted wise simply because now in the midst of the flames he taketh no delight in riotous living? In a word: “Into a soul that willeth evil wisdom shall not enter.” Whence, however, shall we prove that even in that state, in which the lost are punished, the will remaineth evil? To omit all else, certainly they are unwilling to be punished. But it is right that they should be punished, who have done things deserving of punishment. Therefore they do not will what is right. He, however, who doth not will what is right, hath not a righteous will. By the fact then that his will doth not consent to what is righteous it is unrighteous, and thus also evil. Two things there are, either of which proveth a will to be wicked; namely, that it pleaseth it to sin, and that it pleaseth it to have sinned with impunity (in the past). Thus to take pleasure in sin so long as it is possible to sin; and, when it is no longer possible, to will that sin remain unpunished; what of true wisdom is there in this? What good will does this show? But granted that it repenteth the lost to have sinned, can we say that the will is yet good if, were the choice given to it, it preferreth to continue in sin rather than to endure the punishment of sin? The former is a wrong choice, the latter is a righteous. But when would a good will choose rather what is wrong than what is right? Besides, they do not truly repent, who do not so much grieve that they have lived unto themselves as that now no longer are they able to live unto themselves. Finally, a man’s outward state revealeth his inward state. For so long as the body is in flames of torment, so long is it plain that the will persisteth in wickedness. Accordingly, among the lost there is nothing whatever of that likeness of God, which consisteth in freedom of counsel and freedom of pleasure; nor can there be; yet, by reason of freedom of choice the image of God abideth there immovably. CHAPTER XThat through Christ the likeness which properly belongeth to the divine image is restored in us. BUT in this world the likeness could nowhere reasonably be found, nay, rather the divine image would here still lie filthy and defaced, were it not that the woman of whom the Gospel tells should light her candle; that is to say, unless He who is Wisdom were to appear in the flesh, and turn inside out the house of sins and seek again the piece which He had lost, namely, His own image, which, despoiled of its native beauty, encrusted with the filth of sin lay hidden as it were in the very dust; and when found, should cleanse it to its first fair state again, making it like unto the saints in glory; nay, rather, should make it in all respects like unto Himself, when the word of Scripture should be fulfilled, which saith: “We know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is.” And, in truth, whom did such a work befit better than the Son of God? Who seeing that He is the effulgence of the Father’s glory, and the essential form of His very being, upholding the universe by His word, manifested Himself, endowed with full power for the twofold work of restoring what was deformed and strengthening what was weak; putting to flight the darkness of sin by the effulgence of His Godhead, and restoring wisdom; and by the virtue of His word giving power against the tyranny of evil spirits. He came, therefore, the very essential form (of God), to Whom the free choice (of man) had to be conformed: for, in order that it might receive again its original form, it needed to be reformed from the same source from which it had been formed. But the form is Wisdom; the conformation consisteth in the image doing that work in the human body which the form doth in the whole world. Now that Wisdom “reacheth from one end to another mightily, and sweetly doth it order all things.” It “reacheth from one end to another,” that is to say, from the highest heaven to the depths of earth; from the greatest angel to the very least of worms. But it “reacheth mightily,” not indeed by digressive motion or by local diffusion, nor merely by official administration of created life, its subject; rather by a certain essential and omnipresent strength, whereby indeed He moveth, ordereth, and governeth the whole universe most potently. And all this He doeth by no necessity that compelleth Him. Nor in these matters doth He work with any difficulty; but, with a tranquil will, He “ordereth all things sweetly.” In very truth He “reacheth from one end to another,” that is, from the origin of created life even unto the end appointed for it by the Creator; whether it be the end to which fallen nature impels it, or that which judgement hastens, or that which grace concedes. He “reacheth from one end to another mightily,” seeing that none of these ends is reached, that He doth not foreordain it, as He willeth, by the power of His providence. Therefore let free choice seek to rule its own body, even as Wisdom ruleth the world; itself also reaching “from one end to another mightily,” to wit, giving its commands to each sense and to each member with such authority that it allow not sin to reign in its mortal body, nor yield its members as weapons to iniquity, but rather present them for the service of righteousness. Thus no longer will the man be the servant of sin, when he doeth not sin; from which indeed set free, he will now begin to recover freedom of counsel and to vindicate his dignity, while he clotheth himself with a likeness befitting the divine image in himself, yea, restoreth his ancient comely state. But let him take heed that he do this not less “sweetly” than “mightily”; that is to say, “not of sorrow or of necessity,” which is but the beginning, and not the fulness of wisdom; nay, rather, with a ready and a cheerful will, which maketh a sacrifice accepted, seeing that “God loveth a cheerful giver.” And thus in all things he will follow the example of Wisdom, both withstanding vice “mightily,” and being “sweetly” at rest in conscience. But in truth we need also the help of Him by whose example we are incited to such conduct as this; in order, plainly, that by means of Him we may be conformed unto Him, and be “transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” Therefore if it be by the Spirit of the Lord that this is brought about, it is no longer by free choice. Let no one then think that free choice is so called because with equal power or facility it concerneth itself with good and evil; seeing that it was indeed able to fall by means of itself, but not to rise again, save by means of the Spirit of the Lord. Otherwise neither God, nor the holy angels—for they are in such sense good, as not to be able to be evil; nor, again, the fallen angels—for they are in such sense evil, as not to be able to be good—could be said to possess freedom of choice. Nor, moreover, shall we lose free freedom of choice after the general resurrection, when, undoubtedly, we shall have been inseparably associated, some of us with the good, other of us with the evil, angels. For the rest, neither God nor the devil lacketh freedom of choice; for it is no weak necessity, but a will strong in the good, and a free strength of purpose, which maketh it impossible for the former to be evil; and that the latter is unable to long after the good no violent force of another effecteth but his own will, stubborn in evil, and his own free obstinacy. Therefore, then, freedom of choice is so called rather because, whether in doing good or in doing evil, it maketh the will equally free; for neither ought, nor can, any man be said to be either good or bad, except in so far as he is willingly such. On this reasoning he will fittingly be said to be equally situated towards good and towards evil, because plainly he has—not, indeed, equal facility in preferring but—equal freedom in willing the one or the other. CHAPTER XIThat neither grace, nor temptation, taketh away from freedom of choice. TRULY, as hath been said, by this prerogative of divine dignity the Creator hath singularly honoured the reasonable creature; in such fashion that as He Himself was independent, and was good of His own will, and by no necessity imposed by another; thus it also should in a manner be so far independent, as neither to become evil and justly to be condemned, nor to remain good and deservedly to be rewarded, save only of its own will. Not, however, that its own will could suffice unto it for salvation; but that without its own will it could take no step in the direction of salvation. No one, forsooth, is saved against his will. Nor, indeed, is what is said in the Gospel: “No one cometh unto Me, unless. My Father draw him”; and again, in another place: “Compel them to come in,” at all contrary to this; for, while certainly the loving Father, “Who willeth all to be saved,” seemeth to draw, or compel, as many as may be; nevertheless. He judgeth no one worthy of salvation, unless He have already found Him willing to be saved. And when He frighteneth men, or smiteth them, His purpose is to make them willing to be saved, not to save them against their will; in so far that, while He changeth the will from evil to good, He doth not take away its freedom, but transferreth its allegiance. As for being drawn, however, it is not always against their will that men are drawn; for neither the blind, nor the weary, are saddened for being led or borne. Moreover Paul was led by the hand to Damascus, certainly not against His will. Finally she was indeed most willing, who, in the Song of Songs, made earnest request saying: “Draw me; because of the savour of thine ointments we will run after thee.” Then, on the other hand, there is the fact that it is written: “Each man is tempted by his own lust, having been drawn away and enticed by it”; and also that “the body which is corrupted presseth down the soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things”; and that the Apostle saith: “I find another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin, which is in my members”; all these statements may be thought to imply that the will is under compulsion and deprived of its freedom. But the truth is that however a man may be pressed by temptation, whether from within or from without, his will, so far as concerneth choice, will be always free; in as much as, in spite of everything, it will be free to decide in the matter of its own consent. But so far as concerneth (freedom of) counsel or (freedom of) pleasure, as long as endureth the struggle with concupiscence and with misery, so long indeed doth the will perceive itself to be restricted in its freedom; though not on that account to be evil, save only if it consent to evil. Finally Paul, who complaineth that he is being drawn a captive to the law of sin—without doubt by reason that he hath not full freedom of counsel—nevertheless boasteth that the consent of his will is unimpaired, and now in large measure also free in well-doing, saying: “It is no longer I that do it.” Whence, Paul, this confidence? Because, saith he, “I consent to the law of God, that it is good”; and again: “For I delight in the law of God according to the inner man.” The eye being single he presumeth the whole body to be full of light. The consent of his will being unimpaired, he doth not hesitate to profess that, although drawn by sin and taken captive by misery, he is yet free in well-doing. And in this confidence it is that he concludeth generally: “There is therefore no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” CHAPTER XIIWhether one that, for fear of death or of other penalty, denieth the faith is to be excused from blame, or to be held destitute of free choice. BUT let us consider the case of those who, for fear of punishment or of death, have been nominally compelled to deny the faith; let us consider whether, perchance, according to this declaration of their compulsion, it is the fact either that no blame is due to them for denial of the faith merely by word of mouth, or that the will (as well as the tongue) could have been compelled by force to incur blame; so that, plainly, a man might will what it was admitted that he also did not will, and thus his freedom of choice be done away. And because this were impossible (for a man could not at one and the same time both will and not will the same thing), the question is asked how it is right that evil should be imputed to them that in no way will evil. For such sin is not as is original sin, by which one who, as yet unregenerate by baptism, not only in the absence of consent, but also for the most part in ignorance as to his state, is on other grounds held in bondage. Let us take, for example, the Apostle Peter. He seemed, indeed, against his own will, to deny the truth, inasmuch as he was under the external necessity of either denying it or suffering death. Fearing death he denied it. He was unwilling to deny it, but he was more unwilling to die. Accordingly he denied it against his will; nevertheless he did deny it, lest he should die. But although the man was compelled to say with his tongue, and not with his will, what he was unwilling to say, he was not compelled to will what he did not will. His tongue was moved against his will; but was his will at all changed? What was it that he willed? He willed, truly, to be what he was, a disciple of Christ. What was he saying? “I know not the man.” Why did he say this? He willed to escape death. But why was he deserving of reproach in so doing? We recognize in the Apostle two acts of will; the one, by which he willed not to die, a thing wholly free from blame; the other, by which he delighted to be a Christian, which was highly praiseworthy. In what then was the Apostle blameworthy? Was it in that he preferred to lie rather than to die? Plainly this act of will was deserving of blame, for he willed to preserve the life of the body rather than that of the soul. “The mouth, to wit, that lieth slayeth the soul.” He sinned therefore, and not without the consent of his own will, which was feeble indeed and wretched, but certainly free. He sinned, however, not by rejecting or hating Christ, but by loving himself too much Nor did that sudden fear of death compel his will by force to this perverse self-love; but it proved it to exist. He was, without doubt, already such a man as this, but he knew it not; although he had heard Him, from whom the truth could not be hidden, say: “Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice.” Thus that weakness of will, which was revealed, but not caused, by fear inspired, made known the extent to which he loved himself, and the extent to which he loved Christ—made it known however, not to Christ, but to Peter. For, even before all this happened, Christ “knew what was in man.” In so far therefore as he loved Christ, his will (so to do), it is not to be denied, plainly suffered violence, so that he spake in contradiction of himself: but in so far as he loved himself, without doubt he freely consented, so that he spake on behalf of himself. Had he not loved Christ, he would not have denied Him unwillingly; but had he not loved himself more, he would not have denied Him at all. Therefore it must be confessed that the man was compelled, although not to change, yet to dissemble his own will: compelled, I mean, not to yield in love to God, but to yield somewhat from love of self. What then? Is all that hath been said above concerning the freedom of the will, perchance, untrue, because, without doubt, it hath been found that the will can be compelled? Yes, certainly; but only if the will could be compelled by another than itself. If, however, it was the will itself that compelled itself, being at once subjected and subjecting; then, just when it seemed to lose its freedom, it actually received it. Of a truth, the force which the will used against itself, it used of itself. Further, what it used of itself, it used as an act of will. What force it used as an act of will, it used, not as necessitated from outside itself, but as a voluntary act. But if as a voluntary act, also as a free act. Finally, one, whose own will compelled him to deny the faith, was compelled because he willed to be compelled: nay, rather, he was not compelled, but he consented, and that not to an external force other than himself, but to his own will, the will, namely, by all means to escape death. Otherwise how could some woman’s voice have availed to shape a holy tongue to wicked words, had not the will, the mistress of the tongue, assented? Finally, when afterwards he refrained himself from that excessive love of self, and began, as he ought to do, to love Christ with all his heart and all his soul and all his strength; then could his will by no threats or penalties be forced in any measure to yield his tongue a weapon unto unrighteousness, but rather, boldly complying with the truth, he said: “We ought to obey God, rather than men.” There is, verily, a twofold compulsion, according to which we are compelled either to suffer something, or to act, contrary to our own will. Passive compulsion (for so the former is rightly named) indeed can sometimes take place without the consent of the will of him that suffereth it, but active compulsion never can. Accordingly, the evil which is done in us, or concerning us, is not to be imputed to us, provided that our will have not consented. For the rest the evil which is done by our active agency is not done without the will incurring blame. Plainly we are proved to will evil, which would not be the case, if we did not will it. There is then, too, an active compulsion (as well as a passive), but it doth not excuse the will from blame, when it is also accepted freely. A Christian (in the case in point) was compelled to deny Christ, and that indeed regretfully, nevertheless not otherwise than as an act of will, He was all too willing to escape the headsman’s sword; and such a will ruling within him, and not the sword before his eyes, it was which opened his mouth. Thus the sword did not compel his will, but proved it to be what it was. Therefore the will itself brought itself under blame, not the sword. In a word, where the will was right, men could be slain, but they could not be bent. This it is which had been foretold them: “They shall do unto you whatsoever they will,” to your bodily members however, not to your hearts. Ye shall not do what they will; but they shall do what they will, and ye shall suffer. They shall torture your bodily members, but they shall not change your will; they shall deal savagely with your flesh, but shall have nothing that they can do unto your soul. Although the body of the sufferer may be in the power of the tormenter, yet his will is free. By their cruel dealing they shall discover whether the will be weak; they shall not compel it to be weak, if it be not weak already. Truly its weakness is from itself; but its health is not from itself, but from the Spirit of the Lord. It is healed when it is renewed. Furthermore, it is renewed when, as the Apostle teacheth, “beholding the glory of the Lord, it is transformed from glory to glory,” that is, from strength to strength, “as by the Spirit of the Lord.” Between which divine Spirit, indeed, and the fleshly appetite, that in man which is called free choice, that is to say, the human will, taketh, as it were, a middle place: and, like unto one hanging in doubtful plight on the steep slope of a very high mountain, thus in the matter of appetite is the will made weak through the flesh, so that, unless the Spirit by means of grace perseveringly helpeth its weakness, not merely is it unable, by ascending from strength to strength, to attain unto the summit of righteousness, which is, according to the prophet, “even as the mountains of God”; but, rolling downwards by its own weight from vice to vice, it falleth headlong, overburdened, in truth, not only by the law of sin originally implanted in its members, but in addition by the habits of its “earthy tabernacle” which use hath grafted upon the affections. Of both of which burdens of the human will Scripture, forsooth, telleth briefly in a verse, when it saith: “The body which is corrupted presseth down the soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things.” And these two ills of our mortal state, even as they do not injure, but rather train, them that do not consent to temptation; so also do they not excuse, but rather condemn, them that do so consent; so that neither salvation, nor condemnation, can by any means follow, unless there precede the consent of the will; lest, by any chance, freedom of choice should seem to be in a measure subject to the dictates of force. CHAPTER XIIIThat human merits are no other than divine gifts. WHEREFORE that which in created beings is called free choice is, surely, either justly condemned, seeing that by no external force is it predetermined to commit sin; or it is mercifully saved, for no righteousness of its own sufficeth unto it for righteousness. And let the reader bear well in mind that, in what is here said, no account at all is taken of the fact of original sin. For the rest, let not the cause of the condemnation of free choice be sought outside itself, for nothing in fact condemneth it, save only its own fault; nor are the merits of salvation of itself, but mercy alone saveth it. Moreover, its efforts to do good both are in vain, if they be not aided, and do not exist at all, if they be not moved, by grace. Besides, as the Scripture telleth, the senses and the thoughts of man are prone to evil. Accordingly, as hath been said, his merits are not to be held as accruing to him of himself (as their source), but rather as descending from on high from the Father of lights; if, of course, the very merits whereby eternal salvation is gained are to be reckoned amongst the best and perfect gifts. For God, “Who is our King of old,” when “He wrought salvation in the midst of the earth,” divided His gifts unto men into merits and rewards; to the end both that the present gifts might, as freely possessed by us, become our merits in the meantime, and that we might look forward to receiving the future gifts as gratuitously promised by Him—nay, rather, expect them as due. It is in reference to both these that Paul saith: “Ye have your fruit unto sanctification, but the end eternal life.” And again he saith: “And we ourselves who have the firstfruits of the Spirit … groan over our present state, waiting for the adoption of the sons of God”; meaning, by the firstfruits of the Spirit, sanctification, that is to say, the virtues in which we are at the present stage being sanctified by the Spirit in order that deservedly we may obtain the adoption. Again, in the Gospel the same promises are made to him that renounceth the world, where it is said: “He shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life eternal.” And thus salvation is not wrought by man’s free will, but by the Lord; nay, rather, He is Himself salvation, and the way unto salvation, Who saith: “I am the salvation of the people”; Who showeth the road thereunto: “I am the way.” He made Himself to be the way, Who was the salvation and the life, “in order that no flesh should glory.” If then the good things of the way are merits, even as the good things of the fatherland (to which we journey) are salvation and life, and if that be true which David saith: “There is none that doeth good, none save One only,” save, that is to say, that One alone of whom it is also said, “None is good, save God alone”: without doubt, in such case, both our works and His rewards are alike the gift of God, and He Who has made Himself a debtor in respect of the latter, has also made us meritorious in virtue of the former. Nevertheless He deigns to make use of the services of His creatures in establishing their merits, not on the ground of His standing in need of such services, but on the ground of their being of profit to His creatures. God, therefore, worketh their salvation, “whose names are in the book of life,” sometimes by means of the creature without itself, at other times by means of the creature against itself, at other times by means of the creature with itself. For, indeed, there are many things which minister to the salvation of men by means of insensible, and likewise by means of irrational, creatures, which I have spoken of as done without the creature for the reason that it cannot, for lack of understanding, be conscious of them. God also maketh many things of use for the salvation of many men by the instrumentality of the wicked, whether men or angels, who, since they do such service unwillingly, therefore act against themselves. For while they take pleasure in desiring to do hurt, it is themselves who are as much hurt by their own wicked purpose as others are profited by their useful doings. And then those with whom, as well as by means of whom, God worketh are the good, whether angels or men, who alike do and will what God willeth. For in the case of those who consent in will to what they do in act, with them God expressly shareth the work which He hath in hand. Whence Paul, when he had narrated the many good things which God, by his means, had done, saith: “Not I, but the grace of God which was with me.” He might have said, “by means of me,” but, because that would have been too little, he preferred to say “with me”; representing himself to be not only a minister of the work by giving it effect, but also, by giving his consent, in a fashion a partner of Him that worketh it. Let us consider now, in respect of this threefold manner of God’s working, which we have alleged, what it is that the creature in each case meriteth. The creature, indeed, by means of which, but without which, is done what is done, what can it merit? But what can that merit, against which it is done, except wrath? And what that, with which it is done, if not grace? Accordingly, in the first case no merits are gained; in the second evil merits; in the last good merits. For the beasts of the field, when by their means some good or evil resulteth, do not merit good or evil; in as much as they do not possess the power of consenting to good or evil. Much less do the stones merit, for they have not even sense-perception. On the other hand the devil, or wicked men, seeing that with fulness of reason they thrive and keep their watch, thereby indeed merit, yet naught else than punishment, for they dissent from the good. But Paul, who preacheth the Gospel willingly lest, were it unwillingly that he so did, he would merely have been entrusted with a stewardship, and whoever is of like mind with him, seeing indeed that they obey with full consent of will, are well assured that there is laid up for them a crown of righteousness. God therefore useth, for the salvation of His own, the irrational, and likewise the insensible, creature, a beast of burden or a mere instrument, which, their work once done, shall be nowhere found. He useth the rational, but ill-willed, creature as it were as a rod of discipline which, when His child hath been corrected, He will cast into the fire as a useless twig. He useth both angels and men of good will as His comrades and allies, whom, the victory won, He will reward most abundantly. Finally, Paul also boldly proclaimeth concerning himself and others the like: “For we are God’s fellow-helpers.” Accordingly God, of His lovingkindness, assigneth merits to man, whenever He deigneth, by his means and with his help, to work any good work. Hence is it that we presume to be God’s fellow-helpers, fellow-labourers with the Holy Ghost, meritorious of the kingdom, because, in fact, by consent of will we are joined unto the divine will. CHAPTER XIVWhat part is to be assigned to grace, arid what to free choice, in the work of salvation. WHAT then? Is this, therefore, all that free choice doth in the matter? Is this its sole merit, to consent? Certainly it is. Not indeed that even the very act of consent, in which consisteth its entire merit, is of itself; since not so much as “to think” (which is less than to consent) “anything as of ourselves, are we of ourselves sufficient.” These are not my words, but the Apostle’s, who attributeth to God, not to his own free choice, everything of good that can be, that is to say, to think, and “to will, and to do according to His good will.” If, therefore, God worketh in us these three, that is to say, to think, and to will, and to perform, what is good according to His good will; the first, assuredly, He doth without us, the second with us, and the third by means of us. For indeed, by sending us good thoughts, He preventeth us; by also changing our evil wills He joineth us to Himself through consent; and, by supplying to our consent the opportunity of performance, by means of our manifest work He that worketh in us maketh Himself known outwardly. Certainly we are by no means able to prevent ourselves. But He who findeth no one that is already good, saveth no one whom He doth not prevent. The beginning of our salvation is, therefore, without doubt from God; neither is it at all by our means, nor is it with our help. But the consent of the will and the work performed, although they do not originate from us, nevertheless are not without us. Thus neither the first, in which truly we do nothing; nor the last, which unprofitable fear or damnable hypocrisy doth ofttimes extort from us; but the second only is reckoned unto us as meritorious. In fact good will alone sufficeth, the rest avail nothing, if it only be wanting, I should have said: They avail nothing to the agent, nor to the beholders. Accordingly the intention availeth for merit, the action for example; the preventing thought availeth merely to excite them both. Let us then beware lest, when we perceive these things to be invisibly enacted within us and with our co-operation, we attribute them either to our own will, which is weak; or to any external necessity imposed upon God, of which there is none; and not to grace alone of which He is full. Grace it is which moveth free choice, when it soweth the seed of good thoughts; which healeth it, when it changeth the disposition; which strengthened it, when it persuadeth it to external action; which keepeth it, so that it may not suffer failure. But grace worketh with free choice in such a manner that, while in the first instance it only preventeth it; afterwards it accompanieth it; indeed it preventeth free choice, to the very end that in the future it may co-operate with it. Nevertheless, what has been begun by grace alone is in such fashion performed by grace and by free choice that in co-operation, not separately; at one and the same time, not by turns; the result is wrought by both of them. It is not that grace doeth part and free choice doeth part; but each doeth the entire work by its individual energy. Free choice, in truth, doeth the entire work, and so also doth grace, but, even as the whole is done in the former (by co-operation), so is the whole done of the latter (by origination). We believe that it pleaseth the reader that we nowhere depart from the teaching of the Apostle; and whithersoever the argument may have wandered, we have often made use of his very words. For what else do we mean than what he saith: “It is therefore neither of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy”? Which indeed he saith, not as though any man can will or run in vain; but because he that willeth and runneth ought to glory, not in himself, but in Him from Whom he hath received the power to will and to run. In fine, he saith: “What hast thou which thou didst not receive?” Thou art created, thou art healed, thou art saved. Which of these, O man, originateth from thyself? Which of these is not impossible for free choice? Thou, who didst not exist, couldest not create thyself, nor, a sinner, couldest thou justify thyself, nor, when dead, couldest thou bring thyself again to life; so say nothing of other good things, which are either necessary to them that must be healed, or laid up in store for them that are to be saved. What we say is sufficiently plain as concerneth the first (creation) and the last (salvation). But concerning the intervening stage (justification) also no one doubteth, save he that, “knowing nothing of the righteousness of God, and willing to establish his own righteousness, is not subject to the righteousness of God.” What? Dost thou recognize the power of the Creator, the glory of the Saviour, and yet knowest not the righteousness of the Healer? “Heal me,” saith (the prophet), “and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for thou art my praise.” He recognized the righteousness of God, by Whom he hoped no less to be delivered from misery than to be healed of sin; and therefore rightly he concluded that it was God, and not himself, that was his praise. Wherefore David also, reiterating, saith: “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give the glory”: for it was from God that he was looking for both robes, that is to say, the robe of righteousness and the robe of glory. Who is he that knoweth not the righteousness of God? He that counteth himself righteous. Who is he that counteth himself righteous? He that claimeth for himself merits from some other source than grace. Moreover He Who made that which should be saved, also gave the means whereby it may be saved. He, I mean, Who made those to whom merits should be granted, Himself grants them. “What,” saith (the Psalmist), “shall I give back unto the Lord for all that he hath” not “given,” but “given back unto me?” Both that he existeth, and that he is righteous, he confesseth to be from God; lest, by denying one or the other, he should destroy them both, losing, indeed, the means whereby he is righteous, and thus dooming that which he is. But, so confessing, now in the last place he findeth that which in his turn he should repay: “I will receive,” he saith, “the cup of salvation.” The cup of salvation is the blood of the Saviour. Therefore, if there wholly lacketh thee, of thine own, anything which thou mayst repay even for the second gifts of God bestowed upon thee, whence dost thou provide thyself with salvation? “I will call,” saith he, “upon the name of the Lord”; upon which, undoubtedly, “whosoever calleth shall be saved.” Therefore, they who are possessed of true wisdom confess a threefold operation, not indeed of free choice (as the agent), but of Divine grace in, or concerning, free choice. The first is creation; the second, reformation; the third, consummation. For first we were created in Christ unto freedom of will; secondly, we were reformed through Christ unto the spirit of freedom; lastly, we are to be consummated together with Christ unto the state of eternal life: inasmuch as that which did not exist needed to be created in Him who existed; the deformed to be reformed by means of the Form Himself; it needed that the members should not be made perfect save only in union with the Head. Which last result will then indeed be brought to completion when “we shall all attain unto a perfect man, unto the measure of age of the fulness of Christ; when Christ appearing, who is our life, we also shall appear with Him in glory.” Seeing then that the consummation hath to be wrought concerning us, or even in us, though not by us; whereas the creation hath been wrought also without us; that alone, which on account of our free consent is in a certain manner wrought with us, namely, our reformation, will be reckoned unto us as meritorious. This consisteth of our fasts, our vigils, our continence, our works of mercy, and the rest of our virtuous practices, by means of which it is plainly evident that “our inward man is renewed from day to day”: while the mind, bowed under worldly cares, little by little riseth again from depths to heights, and the affection, languishing in fleshly lusts, gradually gaineth strength for spiritual love; and the memory, fouled by the infamy of ancient deeds, now clothed in the white robe of good works, daily groweth joyous. For it is in these three things that interior renewal consisteth; that is to say, in rectitude of mind, in purity of affection, and in the remembrance of good works by means of which memory shineth ever fairer in the consciousness of well-doing. But, seeing that it is certain that these things are wrought in us by the Spirit, they are the gifts of God: yet, because they are accompanied by the consent of our will, they are our merits. “For,” saith He, “it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father that speaketh in you,” and the Apostle asketh: “Do ye seek a proof of Him that speaketh in me, even Christ?” If, therefore, Christ, or the Holy Spirit, speaketh in Paul, doth He not also in the same way work in him? “For I do not speak,” saith he, “of the things which God doth not work through me.” What then? If both the words and the works are not Paul’s, but God’s, Who speaketh in Paul or worketh through Paul; wherefore, in such case, are the merits Paul’s? Wherefore is it that he so confidently affirmed: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give to me at that day”? Was it, perchance, that he was assured that the crown was laid up for him, because it was through him that those deeds were done? But many good things are done by means of the wicked, whether angels or men; yet they are not reckoned unto them as meritorious. Or was it rather because they were done with him, that is to say, with his good will? “For,” saith he, “if I preach the gospel unwillingly, a stewardship hath been entrusted to me, but if willingly, I have whereof to glory.” Moreover, if not so much as the very will, on which dependeth all merit, is from Paul himself; on what ground doth he speak of the crown, which he believeth to be laid up for him, as a crown of righteousness? Is it because whatsoever is even freely promised is yet asked for justly and as a matter of due? Finally he saith: “I know Whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have intrusted unto Him.” The promise of God he calls his deposit; and because he believed Him that promised, he asketh for the fulfilment of the promise. What was indeed promised in mercy is yet due in justice. Thus it is a crown of righteousness that Paul expecteth; but of God’s righteousness; not of his own. It is forsooth just that God should pay what He oweth; but it is what He hath promised that He oweth. This then is the righteousness upon which the Apostle presumeth, namely, God’s fulfilment of His promise; lest, if, disdaining this righteousness, he would establish his own, he be not subject to the righteousness of God; when it was all the while God’s will that he should be partaker of His righteousness, in order that He might also make him meritorious of a crown. For He constituted him partaker of His righteousness, and meritorious of a crown, when He deigned to take him as His fellow-worker in the works as a reward for which the crown of righteousness was laid up. Further He made him His fellow-worker, when He made him His willing worker, that is to say, consentient with His will. Accordingly the will is held to be God’s aid; the aid it gives is held to be meritorious. If then, in such a case, the will is from God, so also is the merit. Nor is there any doubt but that both to will, and to perform according to the good will, are from God. God therefore is the author of merit, who both applieth the will to the work, and supplieth to the will the fulfilment of the work. Besides, what are called our merits may be properly described as seed-plots of hope, incentives to love, tokens of a hidden predestination, foretastes of future felicity, the way by which we reach the kingdom, not the moving cause of our kingship. In a word, not them whom He found righteous, but them whom He made righteous, did God also magnify. SYNOPSISCHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
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