a manner as to profit; or yet again, from the consideration that, in consequence of their being now thoroughly familiar to ourselves, and no longer necessary to our own advance- ment, it becomes irksome to us to be recur- ring very frequently to those matters which are urged upon the uninstructed, and our mind, as being by this time pretty well matured, moves with no manner of pleasure in the circle of subjects so well-worn, and, as it were, so childish. A sense of weariness is also induced upon the speaker when he has a hearer who remains unmoved, either in that he is actually not stirred by any feeling, or in that he does not indicate by any motion of the body that he understands or that he is pleased with what is said.1 Not that it is a becoming disposition in us to be greedy of the praises of men, but that the things which we minister are of God; and the more we love those to whom we discourse, the more de- sirous are we that they should be pleased with the matters which are held forth for their salvation; so that if we do not succeed in this, we are pained, and we are weakened, and become broken-spirited in the midst of our course, as if we were wasting our efforts to no purpose. Sometimes, too, when we are drawn off from some matter which we are desirous to go on with, and the transaction of which was a pleasure to us, or appeared to be more than usually needful, and when we are compelled, either by the command of a person whom we are unwilling to offend, or by the importunity of some parties that we find it impossible to get rid of, to instruct any one catechetically, in such circumstances we approach a duty for which great calmness is indispensable with minds already perturbed, and grieving at once that we are not permitted to keep that order which we desire to observe in our actions, and that we cannot possibly be competent for all things; and thus out of very heaviness our discourse as it advances is less of an attraction, because, starting from the arid soil of dejection, it goes on less flowingly. Sometimes, too, sadness has taken possession of our heart in consequence of some offense or other, and at that very time we are addressed thus; "Come, speak with this person; he desires to become a Christian." For they who thus address us do it in ignorance of the hidden trouble which is consuming us within. So it happens that, if they are not the persons to whom it befits us to open up our feelings, we undertake with no sense of pleasure what they desire; and 1 The sentence, " either in that he is actually not stirred by what is said," is omitted in many mss. 5 then, certainly, the discourse will be languid and unenjoyable which is transmitted through the agitated and fuming channel of a heart in that condition. Consequently, seeing there are so many causes serving to cloud the calm serenity of our minds, in accordance with God's will we must seek remedies for them, such as may bring us relief from these feel- ings of heaviness, and help us to rejoice in fervor of spirit, and to be jocund in the tran- quility of a good work. " For God loveth a cheerful giver." 2 15. Now if the cause of our sadness lies in the circumstance that our hearer does not apprehend what we mean, so that we have to come down in a certain fashion from the ele- vation of our own conceptions, and are under the necessity of dwelling long in the tedious processes of syllables which come far beneath the standard of our ideas, and have anxiously to consider how that which we ourselves take in with a most rapid draught of mental appre- hension is to be given forth by the moutn of flesh in the long and perplexed intricacies of its method of enunciation; and if the great dissimilarity thus felt (between our utterance and our thought) makes it distasteful to us to speak, and a pleasure to us to keep silence, then let us ponder what has been set before us by Him who has " showed us an example that we should follow His steps."3 For how- ever much our articulate speech may differ from the vivacity of our intelligence, much greater is the difference of the flesh of mor- tality from the equality of God. And, never- less, "although He was in the same form, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant," — and so on down to the words " the death of the cross."4 What is the explana- tion of this but that He made Himself " weak to the weak, in order that He might gain the weak?"3 Listen to His follower as he ex- presses himself also in another place to this effect: " For whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we be sober, it is for your cause. For the love of Christ constrain- eth us, because we thus judge that He died for all."6 And how, indeed, should one be ready to be spent for their souls,7 if he should find it irksome to him to bend himself to their ears? For this reason, therefore, He became a little child in the midst of us, (and) like a 4 Phil. ii. 17. The form in which the quotation is given above, with the omission of the intermediate clauses, is due probably to the copyist, and not to Augustin himself. The words left out are given thus in the Serm. xlvii. on Ezekiel xxxiv.: " Being made in the likeness of men, and being found in the fashion of a man: He humbled Himself, being made obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." [See R. V.]
5 Cf. 1 Cor. ix. 22.
294 THE WORKS OF ST. AUGUSTIN.
[Chap. XI.
nurse cherishing her children.1 For is it a pleasure to lisp shortened and broken words, unless love invites us? And yet men desire to have infants to whom they have to do that kind of service; and it is a sweeter thing to a mother to put small morsels of masticated food into her little son's mouth, than to eat up and devour larger pieces herself. In like manner, accordingly, let not the thought of the hen 2 recede from your heart, who covers her tender brood with her drooping feathers, and with broken voice calls her chirping young ones to her, while they that turn away from her fostering wings in their pride be- come a prey to birds. For if intelligence brings delights in its purest recesses, it should also be a delight to us to have an intelligent understanding of the manner in which charity, the more complaisantly it descends to the lowest objects, finds its way back, with all the greater vigor to those that are most secret, along the course of a good conscience which witnesses that it has sought nothing from those to whom it has descended except their everlasting salvation.
CHAP. II. OF THE REMEDY FOR THE SECOND SOURCE OF WEARINESS.
1 6. If, however, it is rather our desire to read or hear such things as are already pre- pared for our use and expressed in a superior style, and if the consequence is that we feel it irksome to put together, at the time and with an uncertain issue, the terms of discourse on our own side, then, provided only that our mind does not wander off from the truth of the facts themselves, it is an easy matter for the hearer, if he is offended by anything in our language, to come to see in that very circumstance how little value should be set, supposing the subject itself to be rightly un- derstood, upon the mere fact that there may have been some imperfection or some inac- curacy in the literal expressions, which were employed. indeed simply with the view of securing a correct apprehension of the subject- matter. But if the bent of human infirmity has wandered off from the truth of the facts themselves, — although in the catechetical in- struction of the unlearned, where we have to keep by the most beaten track, that cannot occur very readily, — still, lest haply it should turn out that our hearer finds cause of offence even in this direction, we ought not to deem this to have come upon us in any other way than as the issue of God's own wish to put us to the test with respect to our readiness to re- 1 Cf. i. Thess. ii. 7.
2 Iltius gai/inoi, — in reference to Matt, xxiii. 37.
ceive correction in calmness of mind, so as not to rush headlong, in the course of a still greater error, into the defense of our error. But if, again, no one has told us of it, and if the thing has altogether escaped our own notice, as well as the observation of our hearers, then there is nothing to grieve over, provided only the same thing does not occur a second time. For the most part, however, when we recall what we have said, we our- selves discover something to find fault with, and are ignorant of the manner in which it was received when it was uttered; and so when charity is fervent within us, we are the more vexed if the thing, while really false, has been received with unquestioning accept- ance. This being the case, then, whenever an opportunity occurs, as we have been find- ing fault with ourselves in silence, we ought in like manner to see to it that those persons be also set right on the subject in a con- siderate method, who have fallen into some sort of error, not by the words of God, but plainly by those used by us. If, on the other hand, there are any who, blinded by insensate spite, rejoice that we have committed a mis- take, whisperers as they are, and slanderers, and "hateful to God,"3 such characters should afford us matter for the exercise of patience with pity, inasmuch as also the " patience of God leadeth them to repent- ance."4 For what is more detestable, and what more likely to " treasure up wrath in the day of wrath and revelation of the right- eous judgment of God,"5 than to rejoice, after the evil likeness and pattern of the devil, in the evil of another? At times, too, even when all is correctly and truly spoken, either something which has not been understood, or something which, as being opposed to the idea and wont of an old error, seems harsh in its very novelty, offends and disturbs the hearer. But if this becomes apparent, and if the person shows himself capable of being set right, he should be set right without any delay by the use of abundance of authorities and reasons. On the other hand, if the offense is tacit and hidden, the medicine of God is the effective remedy for it. And if, again, the person starts back and declines to be cured, we should comfort ourselves with that example of our Lord, who, when men were offended at His word, and shrank from it as a hard saying, addressed Himself at the same time to those who had remained, in these terms, "Will ye also go away?"6 For it ought to be retained as a thoroughly " fixed and immovable " position in our heart, that 3 Cf. Rom. i. 5 Rom. ii. 5.
3°- 4 Rom. ii. 4. [See R. VJ 6 John vi. 67.
Chap. XII.] ON THE CATECHISING OF THE UNINSTRUCTED.
295 Jerusalem which is in captivity is set free from the Babylon of this world when the times have run their course, and that none belonging to her shall perish: for whoever may perish was not of her. "For the founda- tion of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His; and, let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." x If we ponder these things, and call upon the Lord to come into our heart, we shall be less apprehensive of the uncertain issues of our discourse, conse- quent on the uncertain feelings of our hear- ers; and the very endurance of vexations in the cause of a work of mercy will also be something pleasant to us, if we seek not our own glory in the same. For then is a work truly good, when the aim of the doer gets its impetus from charity, 2 and, as if returning to its own place, rests again in charity. Moreover, the reading which delights us, or any listening to an eloquence superior to our own, the effect of which is to make us in- clined to set a greater value upon it than upon the discourse which we ourselves have to deliver, and so to lead us to speak with a reluctant or tedious utterance, will come upon us in a happier spirit, and will be found to be more enjoyable after labor. Then, too, with a stronger confidence shall we pray to God to speak to us as we wish, if we cheer- fully submit to let Him speak by us as we are able. Thus is it brought about that all things come together for good to them that love God.3 CHAP. 12. OF THE REMEDY FOR THE THIRD SOURCE OF WEARINESS.
17. Once more, however, we often feel it very wearisome to go over repeatedly matters which are thoroughly familiar, and adapted (rather) to children. If this is the case with us, then we should endeavor to meet them with a brother's, a father's, and a mother's love; and, if we are once united with them thus in heart, to us no less than to them will these things seem new. For so great is the power of a sympathetic disposition of mind, that, as they are affected while we are speak- ing, and we are affected while they are learn- ing, we have our dwelling in each other; and thus, at one and the same time, they as it were in us speak what they hear, and we in them learn after a certain fashion what we teach. Is it not a common occurrence with 3 Concurrant in bonum. Rom. viii. 28.
us, that when we show to persons, who have never seen them, certain spacious and beauti- ful tracts, either in cities or in fields, which we have been in the habit of passing by with- out any sense of pleasure, simply because we have become so accustomed to the sight of them, we find our own enjoyment renewed in their enjoyment of the novelty of the scene? And this is so much the more our experience in proportion to the intimacy of our friendship with them; because, just as we are in them in virtue of the bond of love, in the same degree do things become new to us which previously were old. But if we our- selves have made any considerable progress in the contemplative study of things, it is not our wish that those whom we love should simply be gratified and astonished as they gaze upon the works of men's hands; but it becomes our wish to lift them to (the con- templation of) the very skill 4 or wisdom of their author, and from this to (see them) rise to the admiration and praise of the all-creating God, with whom5 is the most fruitful end of love. How much more, then, ought we to be delighted when men come to us with the purpose already formed of obtaining the knowledge of God Himself, with a view to (the knowledge of) whom all things should be learned which are to be learned! And how ought we to feel ourselves renewed in their newness (of experience), so that if our ordinary preaching is somewhat frigid, it may rise to fresh warmth under (the stimulus of) their extraordinary hearing! There is also this additional consideration to help us in the attainment of gladness, namely, that we pon- der and bear in mind out of what death of error the man is passing over into the life of faith. And if we walk through streets which are most familiar to us, with a beneficent cheerfulness, when we happen to be pointing out the way to some individual who had been in distress in consequence of missing his direction, how much more should be the alac- rity of spirit, and how much greater the joy with which, in the matter of saving doctrine, we ought to traverse again and again even those tracks which, so far as we are ourselves concerned, there is no need to open up any more; seeing that we are leading a miserable soul,.and one worn out with the devious courses of this world, through the paths of peace, at the command of Him who made that peace 6 good to us!
4 Some editions read arcem = stronghold, instead of artem.
5 Or = wherein: ubi.
6 Instead of earn, the reading ea — those things, also occurs.
296 THE WORKS OF ST. AUGUSTIN.
[Chap. XIII.
CHAP. 13. OF THE REMEDY FOR THE FOURTH SOURCE OF WEARINESS.
18. But in good truth it is a serious de- mand to make upon us, to continue discours- ing on to the set limit when we fail to see our hearer in any degree moved; whether it be that, under the restraints of the awe of re- ligion, he has not the boldness to signify his approval by voice or by any movement of his body, or that he is kept back by the modesty proper to man,1 or that he does not under- stand our sayings, or that he counts them of no value. Since, then, this must be a matter of uncertainty to us, as we cannot discern his mind, it becomes our duty in our discourse to make trial of all things which may be of any avail in stirring him up and drawing him forth as it were from his place of conceal- ment. For that sort of fear which is ex- cessive, and which obstructs the declaration of his judgment, ought to be dispelled by the force of kindly exhortation; and by bringing before him the consideration of our brotherly affinity, we should temper his reverence for us; and by questioning him, we should ascer- tain whether he understands what is addressed to him; and we should impart to him a sense of confidence, so that he may give free ex- pression to any objection which suggests itself to him. We should at the same time ask him whether he has already listened to such themes on some previous occasion, and whether perchance they fail to move him now in consequence of their being to him like things well known and commonplace. And we ought to shape our course in accordance with his answer, so as either to speak in a simpler style and with greater detail of ex- planation, or to refute some antagonistic opinion, or, instead of attempting any more diffuse exposition of the subjects which are known to him, to give a brief summary of these, and to select some of those matters which are handled in a mystical manner in the holy books, and especially in the histori- cal narrative, the unfolding and setting forth of which may make our addresses more at- tractive. But if the man is of a very sluggish disposition, and if he is senseless, and with- out anything in common with all such sources of pleasure, then we must simply bear with him in a compassionate spirit; and, after briefly going over other points, we ought to impress upon him, in a manner calculated to inspire him with awe, the truths which are most indispensable on the subject of the unity of the Catholic Church,2 on that of tempta- 1 Or = by the reverence which he feels for the man: humana vereciindia.
2 The text gives simply Catholics. One MS. has Catholics: tion, on that of a Christian conversation in view of the future judgment; and we ought rather to address ourselves to God for him than address much to him concerning God.
19. It is likewise a frequent occurrence that one who at first listened to us with all readi- ness, becomes exhausted either by the effort of hearing or by standing, and now no longer commends what is said, but gapes and yawns, and even unwillingly exhibits a disposition to depart. When we observe that, it becomes our duty to refresh his mind by saying some- thing seasoned with an honest cheerfulness and adapted to the matter which is being dis- cussed, or something of a very wonderful and amazing order, or even, it may be, something of a painful and mournful nature. Whatever we thus say may be all the better if it affects himself more immediately, so that the quick sense of self-concern may keep his attention on the alert. At the same time, however, it should not be of the kind to offend his spirit of reverence by any harshness attaching to it; but it should be of a nature fitted rather to conciliate him by the friendliness which it breathes. Or else, we should relieve him by accommodating him with a seat, although un- questionably matters will be better ordered if from the outset, whenever that can be done with propriety, he sits and listens. And indeed in certain of the churches beyond the sea, with a far more considerate regard to the fitness of things, not only do the prelates sit when they address the people, but they also themselves put down seats for the people, lest any person of enfeebled strength should become exhausted by standing, and thus have his mind diverted from the most wholesome purport (of the discourse), or even be under the necessity of departing. And yet it is one thing if it be simply some one out of a great multitude who withdraws in order to recruit his_ strength, he being also already under the obligations which result from participation in the sacraments; and it is quite another thing if the person withdrawing is one (inasmuch as it is usually the case in these circumstances that the man is unavoidably urged to that course by the fear that he should even fall, overcome by internal weakness) who has to be initiated in the first sacraments; for a person in this position is at once restrained by the sense of shame from stating the reason of his going, and not permitted to stand through the force of his weakness. This I speak from experience. For this was the case with a cer- tain individual, a man from the country, when I was instructing him catechetically: and from