Page:TheParadiseOfTheChristianSoul.djvu/210

 which thou  hast  not  received? See how  evil  and  bitter  a thing  it  is  for  thee  to  have forsaken the  Lord  thy  Creator, and  to  be  so  ungrateful and noxious  to  thy  greatest benefactor.

I created thee  to  my  own image and  likeness,  and  signed upon  thee  the  light  of my  countenance,  that  thou mightst acknowledge  and praise me  as  thy  Creator, and set  thee  over  the  works of my  hands. But thou,  when thou wert  in  honour,  understoodst  not;  thou  art  compared to  senseless  beasts,  and art become  like  the  horse  and the mule,  which  have  no  understanding.

Yet have  I preserved  thee, and fostered  thee  hitherto with a father’s  care,  as  the eagle enticing  her  young  to fly,  and  hovering  over  them. I have given  thee  health  and strength, safety  in  so  many dangers and  adversities,  the necessaries of  life,  and  countless other  blessings. But how many times  hast  thou  been made only  the  more  insolent by my  very  gifts  and  blessings, and  abused  them  to  my reproach;  whilst  thou  hast grown fat  and  gross,  and  forsaken the  God  who  made thee?

And if  these  seem  small things, recollect  others,  that are far  greater. When thou wert a lost  slave  to  Satan, and a debtor  to  suffer  eternal death, for  thy  sake  I came down from  heaven,  and  was made man;  for  thy  sake  I took  the  form  of  a servant, although I was  Lord  of  all. I endured so  many  labours and sorrows,  and  redeemed thee at  a great  price,  not  with corruptible things,  as  gold  or silver,  or  precious  gems,  but with my  own  blood,  that thou mightst  glorify  me,  and bear me  in  thy  heart  and  in thy  body; and  what  is  there that I ought  to  do  more  to my  vineyard  that  I have  not done to  it?

But what  hast  thou  rendered to  me  for  all  the  things that I have  rendered  to  thee? Has it not  been  evil  for  good, and hatred  for  my  love? I looked for  thee  to  bring  forth grapes, and  thou  hast  brought forth wild  grapes. The price of thy  soul  is  my  blood,  and yet thou  hast  sold  it  for nought. For what  are  all those things  for  which  thou so often  and  so  readily  barterest  away  thy  soul,  wasting my blood  as  though  it  were worthless, — what but  smoke and shadow? What else  is the  filthy  pleasure  of  the flesh? What else  the  most empty vanity  of  the  world,  or the  base  desire  of  gain? All these things  have  my  apostle, and the  rest  of  my  friends, esteemed as  dung,  that  they might gain  me. But thou holdest them  so  high,  that thou preferrest  often  to  offend me  rather  than  man,  and rather to  despise  my  com-