Metaphrase of Ecclesiastes 1–9

Thus says Solomon, the son of David the king and prophet, to the whole Church of God, the most honoured king among all men and the wisest prophet: How empty and unprofitable are the affairs and pursuits of men, all that is human! For no one can name any benefit attached to these things which men, creeping about the earth, hasten to accomplish with bodies and souls, overcome by things of time, and unwilling to look at anything at all above the stars with the noble eye of the soul. And the life of men is worn away day after day, in the cycles of hours and years and the fixed courses of the sun, some coming, others departing. The thing is like the passage of torrents falling with much tumult into the measureless depth of the sea. And the things made by God for men's sake remain: such as being born from the earth, going away to the earth, the earth itself standing, the sun going round all of it and running back again to the same bound, and the winds likewise; and that the rivers, so many as they are, pouring into the sea, and the winds falling on it, do not force it to go beyond its measures, nor do they themselves break its law. These things, as contributing to this life of ours, are so fixed. But the words and deeds devised by men have no measure. There is a great crowd of words, but no profit from wandering babble; yet the human race is insatiable both in speaking and in listening to another speak, and further in longing to see with idle eyes everything that comes along. What could happen later that has not already been accomplished, or be done by men? What is new, not yet come into experience, that is worth remembering? For I think nothing; and whatever one may call recent or new, on reflection he will find that it was not unknown to those of old either. As former things are hidden in forgetfulness, so present things too will be obscured by time for those who come after. And I am not improvising these things now as I speak in the assembly; but having been entrusted with the kingdom of the Hebrews in Jerusalem, I have given thought enough to all things. Having inquired with care and considered wisely the whole nature of things on earth, I knew it to be most varied, how it is given to man to toil on earth, rolling, now on one pretext of labour, now on another, into nothing. All things below are full of a strange and loathsome spirit, so that it is not possible to restore them, nor even to number at all how much absurdity has seized human affairs. For once, when I reckoned with myself and thought that I was then wiser than all who had been here before me, I knew how to understand parables and the natures of things. But I thought that this too was carried along in vain, and that knowledge follows wisdom and toil follows knowledge.

Thinking that this was so, I decided to turn to another form of life, and give myself up to luxury and make trial of various pleasures. Now, then, I understood that all such things are vain; and laughter, carried along at random, I checked, and pleasure I chastened toward temperance, rebuking it bitterly. And reckoning that the soul can check the nature of the body, drunken and flowing like wine, and that self-control enslaves desire, I was eager to see what serious and truly good thing is set before men to accomplish in this life. For I went through all the rest that are thought admirable: the raising of very lofty houses and the planting of vineyards, and further the making of parks and the acquiring and tending of all kinds of fruit trees; where great pools too were built to receive water, set apart for the abundant watering of the plants. I surrounded myself also with a multitude of household servants, menservants and maidservants, some acquired from outside and others born in my house. Herds of four-footed animals, many herds of cattle and many flocks, came under my control, more than anyone's of old. Treasures of gold and silver flowed to me, as I made the kings of all lands my bodyguards and tribute-bearers. Very large choirs were assembled, of men and women together, for my delight, practising all-harmonious song. Banquets and cupbearers I assigned to this part of luxury, chosen from both sexes, so many that I could not even count them, so far did I surpass in these those who reigned in Jerusalem before me. Then it happened that wisdom diminished in me, and the things of no good desire multiplied. For, giving way to every bait of the eyes and every unmixed impulse of the heart that fell upon me from every side, I gave myself over to hopes of pleasures and bound my own will to all wretched luxuries. For so were my thoughts carried toward misfortune, that I thought these things good and fitting for me to do. Then at length, sobering up and looking up, I saw what I had in my hands, wretched and very grievous things, the works of a spirit not good. For nothing at all chosen by men now seems to me acceptable and worth pursuing by right reason. Reckoning, then, the goods of wisdom and the evils of folly, I would rightly marvel greatly at a man who, carried along irrationally, then takes hold of himself and turns to what is needful. For the space between prudence and folly is great, and the difference between them is as great as that of day to night. The one who has chosen virtue is like one who sees each thing clearly and looks upward, making his journey in the time of brightest light; while the one entangled in vice and every error is like one wandering on a moonless night, blind in sight and robbed of things by the darkness. At last, considering the difference between these two lives, I found none, and having made myself a partner of fools, I received the wages of folly. For what good is there in those clevernesses, or what profit in many words, when the words of babble spring as from a fountain of folly? But the wise and the fool have nothing in common, neither in remembrance among men nor in recompense from God. Of the affairs among men, while they still seem to be beginning, the end already seizes them all. But the wise man never shares the same end with the foolish. I hated, then, my whole life, spent in vain things, which I passed melting away in toils on earth. For, in a word, all things have been toiled over by me in grief, being the works of an irrational impulse; and another will receive them, whether wise or foolish, the cold fruits of my labours. But when I had cast these off and thrown them away, the truly good things set before man appeared to me: the knowledge of wisdom and the possession of courage. And if anyone has not cared for these but has been excited by other things, such a man has found evil instead of good, and pursued wickedness instead of goodness, and toil instead of rest, dragged about by various troubles, always held fast night and day by pressing labours of the body and unceasing cares of the soul, his heart throbbing for strange things. For the perfect good does not rest in food and drink, even though food comes to men above all from God; for nothing of what is given to us for salvation lies outside his providence. But the truly good man, obtaining wisdom from God, has obtained heavenly gladness; while the wicked man, driven by God-sent evils and sick with greed, is eager to amass much and hastens to reproach before the Lord of all the one who has been honoured by God, offering useless gifts, having made the deceitful and vain pursuits of his own wretched soul.

This time is full of all the most opposite things: births, then deaths; the sprouting of plants, then their uprooting; healings and killings; the building up of houses and their pulling down; weeping and laughter; lamentations and dances. Now one gathers what comes from the earth, now throws it out; at one time a man is mad for a woman, at another he loathes her. Now someone sought something, now lost it; now kept it, now let it go; at one time he killed, at another he was murdered; he spoke, then kept silent; he loved, then hated. For human affairs are at one time at war and at another at peace, as things that seem good fall swiftly into acknowledged evils. Let us cease, then, from unprofitable toils. For all these, as it seems to me, (were made) to drive men mad with poisonous goads. A wicked one, watching for his chance, gapes over this age, straining to destroy the creature of God, having chosen to war against him from the beginning to the end. I am persuaded, then, that the greatest goods for a man are cheerfulness and doing good, and indeed that even this temporary enjoyment comes from God alone, if righteousness leads his actions. But of the eternal and imperishable things which God has firmly appointed, it is not possible to take away anything or to add anything. Whatever, then, there is, those things are fearful and wonderful; and what has come to be stands; and what will be has already come to be in being foreknown. And the one who is wronged has God as his helper. I saw in the lower regions a pit of punishment receiving the impious, and another place awaiting the pious. And I reckoned that all things are alike held and judged by God, that the just and the unjust, the rational and the irrational, are the same. For time is measured out alike to all, and death hangs over all; and the races of beasts and of men are the same with God, differing from one another only in articulate speech; and all things happen to them alike, and death comes no more to the other animals than to men. For the spirit is alike in all, and men have nothing more, but all things, in a word, are vain, taking their constitution from the same earth and going to have their dissolution into the same earth. For it is unclear concerning the souls of men whether they will fly upward, and concerning the others that the irrational animals have, whether they will flow away downward. And so it seemed to me that there is no other good than luxury and the use of present things. For I did not think it possible to come back to the enjoyment of these, once a man had tasted death.

Turning myself away from all these thoughts, I looked at, and turned away in disgust from, all the kinds of false accusation that wander among men, from which some, wronged, weep and lament, overpowered by force, with no one to help or console them at all, utter helplessness holding them on every side; while those who take the law into their own hands are raised on high, from which they will also fall. And of the unjust and bold, those who have died fared better than those still living; and more to be chosen than both is the one who would be like them but has not yet come to be, because he has not yet touched the wickedness among men. And it became clear to me how much envy from neighbours follows a man, being the goad of an evil spirit; and that the one who receives it and, as it were, clasps it to his breast has nothing else but to devour his own soul and to saw it through and consume it together with his body, making the prosperity of others his inconsolable grief. A sensible man would choose to fill one of his hands with ease and gentleness rather than both with toil and the villainy of a deceitful spirit. There is also something else which I know happens contrary to what is fitting, because of a man of no good purpose: who, wholly alone, having neither brother nor son, but abounding in many possessions and living with insatiability, wishes to give himself to no goodness at all. I would gladly ask him for whose sake such a man toils, fleeing headlong from doing any good, but torn by various desires to make money from somewhere. Much better than he are those who have set out together in a fellowship of life; would they not in turn reap the best fruits? For when two men rightly apply themselves to the same affairs, even if something befalls one of them, he still has no small help in the one who is with him. And the greatest calamity for a man in misfortune is the lack of anyone to raise him up. But those who live together both double their prosperity and console one another in the storm of unwished-for affairs, so that by day they shine in their freedom with one another, and by night are dignified with cheerfulness. But the one who drags out an unshared life leads a dreadful existence, not perceiving that whoever attacks men who are joined together plans boldly and not safely, and that even a triple cord is not easily broken. I prefer a young man who is poor and sensible to an old king who is foolish, to whom it has not occurred that it is possible for someone from prison to be set up as king, and for himself to fall justly later from his unjust power. For it happens that those placed under a young but sensible (king) are free from grief, as many as are of the older generation; but those born later, having no experience of the other, cannot praise this one either, being led by an irrational mind and the impulse of an opposing spirit. And when you speak in the assembly, keep before your eyes both the right ordering of your own life and prayer for the foolish, that they may receive understanding and know how to turn aside from doing evil.

It is good to spare the tongue and to keep a steady heart in the matter of words. For one should not, without reflection, utter with the voice whatever comes to mind, even if it is absurd; but bearing in mind that, even if we stand far from heaven, we must know that we speak in the hearing of God, and it is profitable to speak without stumbling. As a varied fancy of dreams follows the various cares of the soul, so babble is yoked to folly. A promise made in prayer should reach its fulfilment in deed. It is characteristic of fools to be unreliable; but you, be true, knowing that it is much better for you not to vow nor to promise to do anything than to vow and then neglect it. One must by all means flee the flood of words that are not good, since God will hear them. For to one who thinks these things there is nothing more than to perceive his own works being destroyed by God. For as many dreams are vain, so are many words. But the fear of God, saving to men, is rare. So one should not wonder, looking at the poor being falsely accused and at judges reasoning unjustly. One should turn away from seeming to be greater than the more powerful. For even if this comes about, yet the wickedness in itself will not rescue you from the fearful things that will come upon you. As a possession from plunder is most harmful and most unholy, so for a man who longs for money there comes no satiety, nor the goodwill of his neighbours, even if they acquire a very great amount of silver. For this is vain. But goodness, gladdening exceedingly those who are with it, makes them courageous, giving them the power to look upon each thing. It is a great thing also not to be melted away by such cares: the poor man, even if he is a slave and has not overfilled his belly, enjoys the gentle rest of sleep; but the desire for wealth keeps company with sleeplessness and labours of the soul. What could be more absurd than to treasure up wealth with much eagerness and care and to keep it, keeping for oneself the occasion of countless evils? That wealth must one day perish and be destroyed, whether children are born to the one who acquired it or not; and he himself, even if he does not wish it, must fall to the earth and depart such as he was when he came into being. Being about to depart with empty hands, he increases his own wickedness, as if not considering that the end of life lies before him like his birth, and that he toils unprofitably, gratifying some gust of wind rather than his own zeal, having spent his whole life in most unholy desires and irrational impulses, and further in griefs and sicknesses. And, in a word, the days are darkness to such a man, and his life is mourning. But that is good and not to be rejected; for it is a gift of God to be able to enjoy one's labours in gladness, receiving possessions as given, and not seized. For such a man is not sick with griefs, nor does he serve evil thoughts for long; but he measures out his life with good deeds, cheerful in all things, and rejoicing in the gift of God.

I shall add to my discourse the misfortune that has most spread among men. When God has supplied a man with all that his heart desires, and has taken from him nothing whatever of the things that have come into his desire, neither abundance nor great glory nor the other things about which men are excited, yet he who abounds in all things, as though held by this single God-sent evil, that he does not enjoy them, stores up his goods for another, having fallen fruitless both to himself and to his neighbours. This I set down as a great proof and plain evidence of surpassing wickedness. And that man who, called the father of very many children without misfortune, and living a long time, was not filled with goodness in his soul all that while, and had no taste of death: him I would not envy either for his many children or for his many days; and I prefer to him an untimely embryo fallen from its mother's womb. For that, as it came in vain, so it departs secretly in oblivion, not having touched evils nor looked upon the sun. This is lighter than for the wicked man, even if he measures out his life by a thousand years, not to know goodness. The end of both is death. The fool is convicted above all by receiving satiety of no desire; but the sensible man is not held by these passions. Yet for the most part uprightness of life leads a man to poverty. And the dainty sights of the eyes put many beside themselves, provoking the soul and dragging it to unprofitable zeal through the empty desire to be seen. What has now come to be is already known; and it is clear that man cannot contend with those who are above him. Babblings indeed go round among men, increasing the folly of those who use them.

For though the one who knows what agreeable things will befall him in life is not benefited at all more (let us grant this), yet by men's curiosity it is contrived that one busies oneself even with what will happen to each person after death and thinks one knows it. A good name is more pleasing to the soul than oil to the body; and the departure from life is better than birth; and it is more to be chosen to mourn than to revel, and to be with those who grieve than with those who are drunk. For so it is: one who has reached the end of life has no further care about the things around him. Sensible anger is preferable to laughter; for by a stern disposition of the face the soul is set right. The souls of the wise are sad and downcast, while those of fools are elated and dissolved in mirth. It is much more desirable to receive the rebuke of one wise man than to be the hearer of a whole choir of worthless and wretched men singing. For the laughter of foolish men is like the noise of many thorns burning in a fierce fire. This too is wretched, and indeed the greatest evil, false accusation; for it plots against the souls of the wise and tries to corrupt the noble resolve of the good. One should praise not the beginning of words but their end, and welcome a modest character, not one that is lifted up and puffed with pride. One must very much spare anger and not be readily carried away into wrath, which fools serve. Those who say that a better life was given to former generations err, and do not understand that wisdom greatly surpasses abundance of money, and is as much more conspicuous as silver shines brighter than its own shadow. For the life of man comes not from acquiring perishable wealth, but from wisdom. Who, tell me, will be able to declare the providence of God, so great and so kind? Or who will recall what seems to have been justly neglected by God? When I was not acting rightly before, I observed all things: the just man abiding in his righteousness and not departing from it until death, but even plotted against because of it; and the impious man perishing together with his own wickedness. One who is just should not seem too much so, nor be exceedingly and immoderately wise, lest, stumbling in something, he sin many times over. And do not be bold and rash, lest untimely death seize you. The greatest good is to lay hold of God, and being in this, to sin in nothing. For it is abominable to touch undefiled things with an unclean hand. But the one who submits with the fear of God escapes all that is contrary. Wisdom can give more help than a band of the most powerful men in a city; and it rightly pardons those who often fail in their duties. For there is not one who does not stumble. One must not approach the words of the impious at all, lest, hearing with your own ears words against you, like the babble of a wicked slave, and then stung in heart, you too should later be turned in many acts to cursing in return. I knew all these things, having received wisdom from God; but afterwards I cast it away and was no longer able to be the same. For wisdom fled from me to an infinite length and a measureless depth, so that it was no longer possible to lay hold of it. So afterwards I refrained altogether even from seeking it; and I no longer took thought to consider the follies and vain counsels of the impious and their distraught life. Being so disposed, I was carried into these very things, and, held by a death-bringing desire, I came to know woman, what she is, or whether she is some other such thing. For her heart snares those who pass by; joining hand to hand only, she holds fast, or, as if casting bonds around them, she drags them along. You can be rescued from her only by having God gracious and watching over you; for the one enslaved to sin would not escape. I sought through all women for chastity among them, and found it in none. One might know one temperate man in a thousand, but not a woman. But I observed this above all, that men, made by God simple in their souls, draw upon themselves varied reasonings and endless inquiries, and, pretending to seek wisdom, wear themselves out over petty phrases.

Wisdom in a man, when examined, shows itself through his face, enlightening its possessor; just as shamelessness, as soon as it is seen, convicts the one in whom it dwells of being worthy of hatred. One must very carefully attend to the words of the king, and by all means flee an oath, especially one made in the name of God. Yet one should stand against an evil word; but guard against all blasphemy against the Master. For it will not be possible to find fault with him when he brings anything upon us, nor to contradict the decrees of the only Ruler and King. It is better and more profitable, abiding in the holy commandments, to stand apart from evil words. For a wise man knows and foreknows the judgment at its due time, that it will be just. For all the affairs in the life of men await the punishment from above; but the wicked man does not seem to know very well that, since there is much providence over him, nothing whatever will escape notice hereafter. For he does not know what is coming; for no one will be able to declare any of it worthily; since no one will be so strong as to be able to hinder the angel who takes away his soul, nor could any method at all be found to put off the time of death; but as one caught in the midst of war, one may see on every side what cannot be escaped; and all a man's impiety perishes with him. And I am astonished when I look at the kinds and number of things men have devised for the harm of their neighbours. But I know that the impious are snatched away from here and removed out of the way, because they had given themselves to vanity. For since the providence of God does not pursue all men swiftly, because of his great forbearance, nor punish offences at once, for this reason the wicked man thinks he should sin the more, as if he would get away unpunished; not understanding that even after a very long time he will not escape notice when he has done wrong. But the greatest good is to revere God; and the impious, having fallen away from him, will not long make use of his own folly. A most evil and false opinion often spreads among men about the just and the unjust. For they suppose the opposite about each; and someone who was just was not thought so, and again an impious man was thought sensible. This error I set down as among the most grievous. I once thought that the greatest of goods was eating and drinking, and that the one most dear to God was he who enjoyed these through life as much as possible; and I considered such cheerfulness the only consolation of life; and so I gave heed to nothing else than this notion, so as not to withdraw myself either by night or by day from all that men have found for luxury. And I knew this much, that one who wallows in those things will never be able, though he toil much, to find the truly good.

For I thought then that all men are deemed worthy of the same things; and if someone, being wise, cared for righteousness, turned away from injustice, and avoided enmity, being well-disposed to all, which is pleasing to God, he seemed to toil in vain. The end seemed to be one for the just and the impious, the good and the bad, the pure and the impure, the one who propitiates God and the one who does not. For since both the unjust and the good, the perjurer and the one who altogether shuns an oath, were expected to be driven to the same end, there crept in a condemnation, as though all came to a like end. But I know now that these are the thoughts of fools, errors and deceptions. And they say much: that the one who has died is entirely gone; and that the living is to be preferred to the dead, even if he lies in darkness, even if he passes through life like a dog, rather than the dead lion. For the living know at least this, that they will die; but the dead know nothing at all. No rewards await anyone after he has paid the debt (of death). Enmity and friendship toward the dead have an end. For theirs, whether zeal, has failed, or life, has vanished. He who has once departed from here has a share in nothing. Error, still chanting these things, gives such counsel: "What are you doing, man, not living in luxury, nor filling yourself with every kind of food and overfilling yourself with wine? Do you not perceive that these things are given by God for unhindered enjoyment? Put on a freshly washed garment, anoint your head with myrrh, see this woman and that, and pass vainly through this vain life. For nothing else is left to you besides these, neither here nor after death. But do whatever comes your way. For no one will exact an account of these things from you; nor at all is what is done by men known outside men. And Hades, whatever it is, to which we are said to go, has no share in wisdom or perception." So say the vain. But I know well that neither will those thought the swiftest finish that great race, nor will those esteemed powerful and fearful among men win that fearful war. Nor is prudence proved by abundance of food, nor is understanding wont to keep company with wealth. Nor do I rejoice with those who think that all will obtain the same things. Those who think such things seem to be fast asleep, not reckoning that, like fish and birds, they will be snatched away and worn out in evils, suddenly receiving the punishment they deserve. But I think wisdom so great a thing that even a small city, inhabited by few and besieged by the hand of a great king, I consider great and mighty if it has one wise man as a citizen, even a poor one. For he could save his city both from the enemy and from the siege works. And others do not know that wise man, because he is poor; but I much prefer the strength that is in wisdom to this common power. Here wisdom is dishonoured when it lives with poverty; but afterwards it will be heard, outshouting rulers and tyrants who reach after evils. For wisdom is mightier even than iron; and the folly of one brings danger to many, even if he is despised by many.