patientiam quam in nobis, quibus coelestium consolationum pluviam voluntarium segregavit: quibus non sarculus disciplinae, non paupertatis et vilitatis stercora defuerunt. An non stercora sunt abominationes Aegyptiorum, quas immolamus Deo nostro? Stercora plane vilia ad aspectum, sed ad fructum utilia. Non refugiat hanc foeditatem, qui fecunditatem desiderat: siquidem ex deformi stercorum acervo, qui portatur in agrum, formosus surget acervus manipulorum, qui reportabitur ex agro. Propterea non vilescat vobis vilitas pretiosa; sed pretiosius cunctis thesauris Aegypti, Christi improperium aestimate. Verumtamen terrenum habentibus sterquilinium, ipsa quoque coelestis non deest pluvia: quae est orationum devotio, jucunda ruminatio psalmodiae, dulcis meditatio, consolatio Scripturarum. Denique et haec ipsa pluvia est, quam accipitis per os meum, si quando de flumine, cujus impetus laetificat Dei civitatem, et torrente voluptatis illius aliqua super vos, dum de eis loquimur, stillicidia stillare contigerit.
patience than in us, for whom He has set apart a voluntary rain of heavenly consolations; for whom neither the hoe of discipline nor the dung of poverty and lowliness has been lacking. Or are not the abominations of the Egyptians, which we sacrifice to our God, dung? Dung plainly, vile to look upon, but useful for the fruit. Let him not shun this foulness who desires fruitfulness: for indeed out of the unsightly heap of dung that is carried into the field, a fair heap of sheaves will rise, which will be carried back from the field. Therefore let not this precious vileness grow vile to you; but esteem the reproach of Christ more precious than all the treasures of Egypt. Yet to you who have the earthly dunghill the heavenly rain too is not lacking: which is the devotion of prayers, the pleasant rumination of psalmody, sweet meditation, the consolation of the Scriptures. And lastly this too is rain, which you receive through my mouth, if ever it happens that from the river whose stream makes glad the city of God, and from the torrent of His pleasure, some drops fall upon you while we speak of them.
3. Sed necesse habeo interdum circumfodere, quandoquidem posuerunt me custodem et cultorem in vineis. Heu! qui meam non colui, nec custodivi, necesse habeo tamen, dum hunc occupo locum, et circumfodere nonnunquam, et apponere stercora. Molestum id quidem, sed dissimulare non auaeo: sciens multo amplius securim nocituram, quam sarculum; ignem, quam fimum. Itaque et arguere, et increpare interdum necesse est: nec ignoro fimum esse verbum increpatorium, verbum improperii, et quod si non excuset necessitas, ipsum quoque minus deceat proferentem. Sed quid agimus, quod hoc fimo etsi aliquos impinguari, sed alios plane et lapidari, et indurari videmus? Hinc namque scriptum est: De stercore boum lapidabitur piger (Eccli. XXII, 2). An non impinguatur, qui increpatus benigne accipit, mansuete respondet, libenter emendare conatur? Haec plane salubris et fecunda impinguatio est, ut corripiat me justus in misericordia, et increpet; oleum autem peccatoris non impinguet caput meum. Ex ea siquidem pinguedine, quam generat oleum peccatoris, abundantius pullulant spinae et tribuli, et omnis radix amaritudinis germinat copiosius. Itaque qui justorum increpationem misericordiam nominat, satis indicat quemadmodum suscipienda sit, quam benigno animo, quam devota mente; quantaque ei gratia sit habenda. Sic enim accipientibus nobis erit impinguatio salubris, non fertilis vitiorum, quemadmodum oleum peccatoris, sed fructus illius, quem secundum Apostolum habemus in sanctificatione (Rom. VI, 22). Quid autem facimus tibi, o piger, quid ad hanc misericordiam irritaris magis, et exasperaris? Nonne bonum fimum sparsi in agro tuo? Unde ergo lapides habet? Sed tu, inimice homo; quoniam qui diligit iniquitatem, odit animam suam (Psal. X, 6): tu, inquam, inimice homo, hoc fecisti; qui desidiam tuam non
3. But I must at times dig about, since they have set me as keeper and tiller in the vineyards. Alas! I who have not tilled nor kept my own must nevertheless, while I hold this place, both dig about now and then and lay on dung. It is irksome indeed, but I dare not pass it over, knowing that the axe would do far more harm than the hoe, and fire than dung. And so it is necessary at times both to reprove and to rebuke; nor am I unaware that the word of rebuke is dung, the word of reproach, and that, if necessity did not excuse it, it would also ill befit the one who utters it. But what are we to do, seeing that with this dung, though we see some fattened, we see others plainly both stoned and hardened? For hence it is written: The sluggard shall be stoned with the dung of oxen (Sir. 22:2). Is not he fattened who, when rebuked, takes it kindly, answers meekly, and gladly strives to amend? This plainly is a wholesome and fruitful fattening, that the just man should correct me in mercy and rebuke me; but let not the oil of the sinner fatten my head. For from that fatness which the oil of the sinner begets, thorns and thistles sprout more abundantly, and every root of bitterness springs up more copiously. And so he who calls the rebuke of the just mercy shows clearly enough how it is to be received: with how kind a spirit, with how devout a mind, and how great thanks are to be given for it. For if we receive it so, it will be for us a wholesome fattening, not fertile in vices, like the oil of the sinner, but [bearing] that fruit which, according to the Apostle, we have unto sanctification (Rom. 6:22). But what are we doing to you, O sluggard, that you are rather provoked and exasperated at this mercy? Did I not spread good dung on your field? Whence then does it have stones? But you, enemy man (for he who loves iniquity hates his own soul (Ps. 10:6)), you, I say, enemy man, have done this; you who, going on not to shake off your sloth