tily by his speech, and wrought on them so far, that they were even provoked to murder him, not being able to endure their defeat: for he had not then begun to work miracles, neither can it be said, that he was then ad- mired by the multitude for the fame of his exploits, or that his opponents were over- powered by his reputation; for he prevailed by his preaching alone. Then how was it, that he contended and argued with the advo- cates of Jewish rites in Antioch? and did not Dionysius, the Areopagite, a man of that most superstitious city, follow him with his wife in consequence of his preaching? and what occasioned Eutychus to fall from the window? Did it not happen, after he had been attend- ing to his word of instruction till the depth of night? Then too in Ephesus, in Corinth, in Thessalonica, and in Rome itself, did he not consume whole days and nights succes- sively in expounding the scriptures? Why should I mention his disputes with the Epicu- reans and Stoics? For, if I should recount them, the course of my narrative would extend to a great length. When therefore both ‘ before his miracles, and during the height of ‘them he appears to have prevailed much by ‘ speaking, how shall any man venture to call ‘him rude in that respect, being in fact ex- ‘ceedingly admired by all men for his elo- “quence? For on what account was it, that ‘the Lycaonians suspected him to be Mercury? ‘ Their miracles (it is true) were the occasion ‘ of their being thought gods. But the name ‘of Mercury in particular was attached -to ‘saint Paul, not on that account, but because ‘of his eloquence. In what too did this ‘blessed man transcend the other apostles? ‘and why is he so much talked of by all ‘men throughout the world? For what cause ‘is he the most admired of them all not only ‘by us, but by Jews, and Greeks? Was it not ‘for the excellence of his epistles, by which ‘he has benefited, and will continue to benefit ‘not the faithful of that time only, but all ‘ those, who either have been faithful from that ‘day to the present, or will ever be so till the ‘ final appearance of Christ? nor will he cease ‘to benefit them so long as mankind shall ‘continue; for his writings, like a wall of n s a a a n a a n n n a CN a .
cy a n n a a a n 6 adamant, are a fortress to the churches all over the world, and he stands forth even now, as a bold chieftain, bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ, and casting down imaginations, and every high thing, that exalteth itself against the know- ledge of God. Now all these effects are with divine wisdom, which he has left us. His writings moreover, are not only of use to subvert spurious doctrines, and defend the truth. They are also of no small advantage to us in teaching us how to live well: for the governors of the church use them even now, to form and educate that pure virgin, whom he was training for Christ, and to mature her spiritual beauty. It is by these also, that they remove the diseases, which beset her, and preserve her in her native health. Such medicines has this rude man left us, the value of which those, who are constantly using them, are able to appreciate: and hence it is manifest, that he paid great attention to this department of the apostolic office.
“Then too hear what he says in writing to his ‘disciple! <‘‘ Give attendance to reading, to ** exhortation, to doctrine!” And to this ‘advice he subjoins the benefit to be expected ‘ from it, saying—‘“‘ For in so doing thou shalt ‘* both save thyself, and them, that hear thee’”—: ‘and again he says—“ The servant of the Lord ““must not strive, but be gentle unto all men, “apt to teach, patient.’’ And further on he ‘ adds—“ But continue thou in the things, which ‘* thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, ‘‘ knowing, of whom thou hast learned them, ‘‘and that from a child thou hast known the ‘‘ holy scriptures, which are able to make thee ‘‘ wise unto salvation!” And yet further— ‘« All scripture is given by inspiration of God, ‘‘and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for ‘correction, for instruction in righteousness, «‘ that the man of God may be perfect.” Hear ‘too, what it is, that he sets before Titus, ‘ where he is discoursing upon the ordination of ‘bishops! << For a bishop (says he), must hold ‘* fast the faithful word, as he hath been taught, ‘‘ that he may be able to convince the gain- ‘<sayers.” How then shall one, who is rude, “as they contend, be able to convince, and to ‘stop the mouths of gainsayers? Or what ‘necessity is there to give attendance to read- ‘ing, and to the scriptures, if this rudeness be ‘ allowable and right? Pretences these, and ex- ‘ cuses, mere covers for indolence and idleness.
‘ But it will be replied—‘‘ These orders are ‘‘ directed to priests.” Well; and our argu- ‘ment relates to priests. But, that you may ‘be satisfied, that they refer to the laity also, ‘hear, how he exhorts others in another epis- ‘tle! “Let the word of Christ dwell in you “richly in all wisdom!”—and again—“ Let ‘* your speech be alway with grace, seasoned ‘* with salt, that ye may know, how ye ought ‘to answer every man! ”—: and that direction ‘ to be ready to give an answer is addressed to ‘all men: and the apostle, writing to the ‘ Thessalonians,.says—‘‘ Edify one another, ‘* even as also ye do!” —, but, when he discourses ‘about priests—‘‘ Let the elders, that rule “well, be counted worthy of double honour, “ especially they, who labor in the word and ‘“‘ doctrine!” For the most perfect end of in- ‘ struction is then attained, when the teachers ‘lead their disciples not only by their lives, ‘but also by their instructions to adopt that “happy life, which Christ has ordained: for ‘actions alone are not sufficient to instruct ‘them. Nor is this saying mine, but that of the ‘ Saviour himself: for—“ Whosoever shall do, ‘** and teach them,” said he—*‘ the same shall be ‘* called great”—, whereas, if to do them were ‘instruction enough, the second clause would ‘have been superfluous, and it would have ‘ sufficed to say—‘‘ Whosoever shall do”—only; ‘instead of which by separating the two he ‘shews, that doing is one duty, and teaching ‘ another, and that either of these without the ‘other is insufficient for perfect edification. ‘Do you forget what the chosen vessel of ‘ Christ says to the elders of the Ephesians? ‘« Therefore watch, and remember, that by the ‘« space of three years I ceased not to warn ‘every one night and day with tears!” Yet ‘what need was there for tears, or verbal ‘admonition, amidst the splendour of so apos- ‘ tolic a life? That no doubt contributed much ‘towards inducing them to perform the com- ‘mandments, though even towards this object ‘it could not do all, that is wanted. But, if ¢ « n“ n a a a an a a“ a wn nn n a a n“ a n n a a a n ever there be a dispute about doctrines, and each disputant’s weapons must be taken from the same scriptures, what effect will the life of the teacher have then? What will be the benefit of his many toils, if after having endured them, he fall into heresy, and be cut off from the body of the church, which is a thing, that has happened to many within my knowledge? What advantage will he then derive from his patience? None at all, any more than he would from the soundness of his faith, when his life is depraved.
‘ For these reasons it is necessary for any one, whose duty it is to instruct others, to be well versed in such controversies. For even though he should himself be uninjured, and sustain no damage from his opponents, yet, if the multitude, who are placed under his guidance, should see their leader defeated, and unable to reply to the gainsayers, they will attribute the blame of his defeat not to his own insufficiency, but to the error of his doctrine: and thus through the inexperience of a single individual many people will be exposed to final destruction, or at least, if € ¢ 4 ¢ € a a a n a .
€ ‘ they should not actually go over to the enemy, will be brought to doubt on points, on which they might have been settled, and no longer be able to embrace with the same firm- ness truths, to which they had adhered before with a steady confidence, till, after their souls have been agitated by a violent tempest through their leader’s incompetency, the mis- chief ends in shipwreck. Then you too well know, to need any information from me, how tremendous a destruction, how devouring a flame is kindled for his devoted head on account of every one of those, who are lost. Is it there- fore to be imputed to me, as contumacy, or vanity, that I was not willing to be instru- mental to the destruction of such numbers, and that I was disinclined to lay up for myself more wrath than is already prepared for me? Who can make such a declaration? Surely no one, who is not given to censure, and desirous to find a theme for moralizing in the ‘ calamities of others.
Ir has been sufficiently shewn already, how expert the teacher ought to be in maintaining controversies for the truth. But I have now another subject to bring forward, one too, which has proved a source of innumerable perils: or rather, I would not say, that it has been the cause of them, so much as they are, who do not know how to make a proper use of it; for the thing itself is condu- cive to salvation, and may even be productive of infinite blessings in the hands of serious and good men. What then is it? The labour, which must be bestowed on discourses, which are to be delivered to the people in public. For in the first place, the greater number of hearers do not esteem those, who speak to them, as their teachers, but, passing out of the rank of disciples, usurp the office of spectators, such as are present in profane theatres; s s a .
a n nv “~ a n na a n a rN and as the people there form themselves into parties, some attaching themselves to one actor, some to another, so here also they form parties, and some go to this preacher, some to that, listening to their discourses from partiality, or dislike. Nor is this the only mischief. There is another also, though of less consequence: for, if a teacher should happen to interweave in his discourses something, that had been written by others, he ex- poses himself to more reproach than if he had stolen money; and often without being guilty of plagiary, but only suspected of it, he undergoes the penalty, which belongs to such offences. But why did I say—‘‘ Something, “written by others’—? It is impossible for ¢ 6 ¢ ¢ 4 € ‘ him always to confine himself to the use of his own compositions: for most men are accus- tomed to listen not for improvement, but for diversion, as if they were sitting, to criticize a player, or a musician; and the skill of elo- quence, which we just now excluded, is much more peremptorily required from preachers ‘than it is from professed rhetoricians, when ¢ they are called to oppose each other. Hence ‘a generous spirit, and one, far surpassing the ‘ littleness of mine, is required, to correct the ‘unruly and frivolous taste of the multitude, ‘and to guide their attendance to a more pro- ‘fitable use, that the people may be led by ‘ their teacher, and follow him, instead of his ‘being directed by their inclinations. This ‘advantage however it is perfectly impossible ‘ to attain without the help of these two auxi- ‘ liaries, contempt of praise, and skill in public ‘speaking: for, if either of them should be ‘ wanting, the other is rendered of no use by ‘the loss, since, though a minister should de- ‘ spise flattery, yet, if he do not bring with ‘him a style of instruction, that is seasoned ‘ with grace and salt, he is so far from being a ¢ gainer by his magnanimity, that he is likely € to be despised by the mass of his hearers; or ‘if, being provided with this requisite, he ¢ should be corrupted by the glory, consequent ¢ upon applause, then he does harm to himself ‘and them, by being tempted through his pas- ‘sion for praise to speak in such a manner as ‘ rather to please than to instruct them; and as ‘the person, who is neither affected by their a CN nn nn a cy aw a a ~ n~ a ~ a a“ a“ ~ a o a a a 6 commendations, nor skilled in speaking, can neither gratify, nor to any considerable ex- tent benefit his people, because he has nothing to say to them, so any one, who is swayed by a desire of praise, will, though he have stores, capable of improving them, treat them rather with such viands as may be palatable for the sake of purchasing a noisy applause. The good pastor therefore must be fortified on both sides, that he may not be discomposed by either failing: for, when after rising, to deliver in public such statements as may affect persons, who are living negligently, he is presently daunted, and perplexed, and compelled to blush for his incompetency, the benefit of his discourse is gone instantly; for those, who have been rebuked by him, being offended at his words, and unable to punish him in any other way, assail him with sneers at his failure, by which they hope to cover their own disgrace. Thus, if he would act, like a good charioteer, he must have a perfect command of both these qua- lities, that he may be able to use them both upon occasion; for it is only, when he is him- M “ self qualified to cope with all adversaries, ‘that he will be able either to correct, or to spare those, who are under his care, with a ‘all the authority, which becomes him, and a“ which, until he has reached this degree of ‘ virtue, it is not easy for him to exercise.
‘The greatness of mind, however, which he ‘ought to display, is not only to be shewn in ‘the contempt of praise. It must be carried ‘even further than this; or the benefit, already | ‘ attained, may afterwards be rendered unavail- ‘ing. What else then is there, which he ought to despise? Malignity and envy. Una a founded accusations indeed (for every public ‘ character is necessarily exposed to unprovoked ‘censure) it becomes him neither to dread ‘unreasonably, nor to neglect altogether. He ‘ought rather, however groundless they may ‘ be, and though brought by contemptible cha- ‘racters, to endeavor to silence them imme- ‘diately: for an undisciplined multitude is pre- = cisely that, which most swells a report, whether ‘ good, or evil, inasmuch as it hears, and tells x again without examination, relates at once a everything, that reaches its ears, and pays no ‘regard to the truth. For this reason the opinion of the many ought not to be dis- regarded. On the contrary every injurious suspicion should be suppressed at its first origin by reasoning with those, who harbour it, though they should even be the most unrea- ¢ sonable of all men, and by leaving no ex- ‘ pedient untried for removing a discreditable rumour. But, if, when we have done all, our ‘accusers are still unwilling to be persuaded, then we may properly despise them, since no one, who suffers himself to be depressed by € such calumnies, can ever again do any thing, * that is noble, or worthy of admiration, because ‘ dejection and continual anxieties unsettle and ‘ paralyse his mind, and reduce it to the last “degree of weakness. Hence it becomes the ‘duty of a priest to conduct himself towards ‘his people, as a father does to very young ‘ children; for as we are neither much affected ‘ by the extravagance, the blows, or the cries ‘of infants, nor very much overjoyed by their ‘ laughter, so neither ought a priest to be elated ‘ with the praises of his hearers, or depressed ‘by their censures, if. they are pronounced a a “a a wn a“ a “ a a a a n a a n a a wa a a ta A n~ unseasonably. Now this, my good friend, is a difficult—perhaps I might say, an impossi- ble task. It may indeed be expected, that every one, who is delighted with their appro- bation, will desire to enjoy it; and it is impossible, but that he, who desires to enjoy it, should be grieved, and dispirited, and tormented at the loss of it: for as those, who are proud of their riches, are distressed, if they fall into poverty, and those, who are used to a luxurious fare, cannot bear a plain diet, so the soul, which is captivated by praise, pines, as it were, with hunger, not only if it be censured wrongfully, but even if it be not constantly flattered, particularly after being early habituated to commendation, or if it hear enconiums bestowed upon others. But what trouble, and what dis- tress (do you imagine?) must be incurred by any one, who enters into the list of teachers with this ambitious frame of mind? The sea is never free from waves, nor can his soul be undisturbed by anxiety and uneasi- ness. For, even though he should possess a rich vein of eloquence, a faculty, found in € a “~ wn nw n n n w” a n ry a x a a a a « ~ ~ Cy a nn .
few, still he is not exempt from continual vexation: for, as speaking is not a natural, but an acquired power, it deserts its posses- sor, though attained in the highest per- fection, if he do not keep it up by constant exercise and practice, so, that the more expert aman is in this art, the greater is the labour, which he must undergo. Indeed, if ever he fails, his failure is not measured by the same standard with that of others, but in proportion rather to the difference in their respective ac- quirements: for, while they are comparatively safe, he, if he do not always rise above the opinion, which is entertained of him, lays him- self open to numerous complaints from all par- ties. Besides inferior persons may obtain much praise for small achievements, whereas he, if he does not produce something perfectly ad- mirable and surprising, is not only deprived of commendation, but finds many to censure him; for the hearers sit, to criticize not the things, that are said, but the reputation of the speakers, so, that the best preacher has occasion for the greatest industry, because he is not allowed to plead what others feel, the ‘impossibility of accomplishing every thing, ‘ but, unless his discourses come fully up to the a measure of other men’s expectations, becomes a the object of numberless sneers and censures as from his audience; and no one considers in a his behalf, that a temporary depression of a spirits, or anxiety, or trouble, or perhaps some a ill humour bedims the brightness of his ina tellect, and hinders his thoughts from being * fully developed. No one recollects, that it is a not possible for him, being a man, to be on a all occasions the same, or to be successful in ~ every attempt, but that he must be expected “ sometimes to fail, and that his public appear- “ ances must commonly fall short of his power.
~ Men do not, as I said, voluntarily consider a any of these things, but bring their charges, a as if they were judging an angel. Yet on n the other hand they readily disregard the suca cessful attempts of their neighbours, however n great or many. But, if a failure should a happen on any occasion, even though it was ra a long time ago, they are both quick in hear- .
ing of it, and eager to seize upon it, and rea member it for ever: and this little and insiga a a n n n “ nn rN nificant fault will often sully the lustre of many and noble performances.
‘You perceive, my good friend, that a powerful speaker stands in need of greater diligence, and besides his diligence requires more patience than all the persons, whom I mentioned to you before: for he is continually attacked without reason or provocation by many assailants, who, having nothing to lay to his charge, except his high character with all men, yet take offence, and leave him to sustain their bitter malignity with composure, while they without even disguising their execrable hatred both reproach, and censure, and calumniate him in private, and give vent to their scurrility in public. Now the spirit, which once begins to fret, and feel irritation at these trials, must eventually wear itself out with vexation; for they are not satisfied with distressing him themselves, but endeavor to injure him through the medium of others; and often, having selected some incompetent preacher, they exalt him with praises, and admire him beyond his desert, which is done in some instances from sheer malice, in others 6 « 6 a 6 « 6 a from want of judgment, or an envious dispo- sition, with a view to ruin the credit of the man they dislike, not from a desire to extol his rival. But the person, whom I have now described, has not only to contend with these, but frequently also with the inexperience of all his hearers: for, as it is impossible, that the whole of any congregation should be made up of persons of consideration, but the majority of them must necessarily be inferior persons, while the rest, though they excel them in understanding, yet fal! as far short of those, who are competent to pass judgment upon the discourses delivered, as the others fall beneath them, and only one or two are to be found there who are well qualified for the task, he will receive fewer encourage- ments, and must occasionally depart with- out any praise: and though indeed it is right for a minister to be duly prepared against such injustice, though he should be ready to forgive those, who are betrayed into it by want of knowledge or skill, and to weep over those, who commit it from motives of envy, (for they are truly deserving of his é ‘ 6 ¢ x“ “ wa a a a a a a cn a wn a a a a x a wn a x pity), he ought yet not to think his influence diminished by either of them: for, if a supe- rior painter, who surpassed all others in his art, were to see a portrait, which he had finished with scrupulous exactness, exposed to ridicule by persons, who are ignorant of the art of painting, it would ill become him to be dis- heartened, and to think his picture a bad one out of deference to the jadgment of ignorant critics, any more than he would believe another picture, that was really ill executed, to be admirable and delightful, because it excited the amazement of the vulgar. Ra- ther the good artist himself ought to be the judge of his own performances, and they should be considered good, or bad, according as the mind, that formed them, awards the decision. But let him not pay” any regard to the erroneous and ignorant opi- nion of those, who are uninstructed in the art! and for the same reason let not a teacher, who is put in competition with others, regard the applauses of heathens, or distress himself about them, but so construct his discourses, as to please God! For this, not applause,’ ‘not fame, should be the only rule of his pernx formance. If indeed he is praised by men ‘also, let him not reject their commendation! But, if his hearers withhold it, let him not feel himself hurt by the loss! For it is a ~ ~ ‘ sufficient comfort for him amidst his labours, and indeed it surpasses all other consolation, if he be conscious to himself of having formed ‘and regulated his instruction so as to please ‘God. On the other hand, if he be instigated ‘by an appetite for unreasonable flattery, his ‘ deep study will be of no use to him, nor yet his excellence in speaking; for the. spirit, ‘ which is not firm enough to sustain the ground- ‘less censures of the multitude, is paralysed, ‘and abandons all attempt at eloquence: and ‘this renders it necessary, that he should be ‘trained to disregard praise; for no skill in oratory can maintain itself even at its present ‘ height, unless this qualification be added.
‘ Yet, if we were to examine strictly even ‘ those, who are inferior in this talent, it will a be found as necessary for them, as for those, ‘who excel in it, to despise the praises of the ‘many: for, if they be slaves to popular glory, 4 6 ¢ .
n n n n a n n na .
x.
te they will be driven tocommit many sins. For example, being incompetent to rival those, who bear a high reputation for eloquence, they will not scruple to assail them, to regard them with envy, and censure them without cause, but will be guilty of many such delin- quencies, upon which they will venture with- out remorse, though they should endanger the loss even of their own souls in their zeal to reduce the glory of their rivals to the level of their own incapacity: and yet with all this they still shrink from the labour of composi- tion, as if they had been seized with a stupor; for, since they can hope to obtain but httle praise after using much exertion, this state of things is enough to overpower and relax the energies of any, who are not proof against the ensnaring seductions of flattery, in the same way as the husbandman, who is con- strained to bestow labour upon a poor soil, or to cultivate rocks, is soon induced to desist, if his zeal in the business be not ardent, or his efforts stimulated by the fear of want: for, if those, who have great fluency of speech, yet stand in need of so much practice ~ in their art for the purpose of securing their a possession of it, what difficulty, what exerhal tion, what trouble must he undergo, who has a acquired no skill in it, but is compelled to labor in the preparation of his public addresses a in hope by much toil to obtain a little sucx“ cess? Then, if it should happen, that some nx one in a lower rank gains some distinction x above him in this department, he has need of Cy a divine spirit, to preserve him from being nx seized with malignity, and overwhelmed with a despair: for it marks no ordinary mind, cer- CN tainly is not the character of mine, nay, rather x it requires a soul of adamant, to bear with x calmness the mortification of being surpassed a by persons, who are our inferiors in station or a character. If indeed the individual, who x excels him, be a modest and unassuming co character, the trial appears in some measure tolerable. But, if he should be forward, and vain, and fond of distinction, he will compel cn a -n his superior to wish for death every day. So a unpleasant will he make his life to him by ‘triumphing over him in public, sneering at ‘ him in private, tearing his authority in pieces, n and seeking to be the only object of regard: ‘ besides which he feels himself secure in his n usurpation from having acquired a great ‘confidence of speech, much regard among ‘the rabble, and the love of all the pa- rishioners. Do you not know, what a rage for eloquence is now prevailing in the minds ‘ of christians, and that those, who cultivate it ‘ with success, are the persons in highest re- ‘ pute of all men, not only among the heathen, ‘but in the very household of faith? How. ‘ then can any one be expected to bear the dis- ‘ grace of seeing all men silent, when he speaks, ‘ thinking it an interruption, and looking for- ‘ward to the end of his discourse, as a season n of rest from their uneasiness, although, when ‘another makes even a long speech, they hear him with patience, are grieved, when he comes to a close, and are offended, if he resolves ‘to be silent? For these trials, however light n a ‘ they may appear to you, and easy to be disre- ‘garded, because you have not experienced ‘them, are yet sufficient to quench the zeal, ‘and relax the activity of a soul, which has “not yet weaned itself from all human feel- “ a n Ct a a x ws ings, and become trained to a disposition, suited to those unembodied spirits, who are not haunted by envy, or the love of glory, or by any other similar malady: for, if among all mankind there be any one person, who is capable of treading that intractable, ungovern- able, and remorseless monster, (I mean the opinion of the multitude), under his feet, and to cut off its many heads, or rather not to suffer any of them to grow, he will be able to resist with ease these numerous attacks, and to reach a tranquil haven. But, if he be not delivered from this foible, he exposes himself to a warfare most complicated in its character, to perpetual confusion, and toa host of distresses, and other calamities. Why should I enumerate his various troubles, since no one, who has not himself been involved in them, will be able either to describe, or to comprehend them?
BOOK THE SIXTH.
‘You have now heard the state of the case ‘here below. But how shall we endure the ‘consequences above, when we shall have to ‘render an account for every one of those, ‘who have been committed to our care? For ‘ disgrace is not there the whole of the punish- ‘ment, but everlasting Nae succeeds. ‘I have indeed already quoted the text— “Obey them, that have the rule over you, ‘‘and submit yourselves! For they watch “‘for your souls, as they, that must give ac- “count.” But yet I cannot pass it by on the ‘present occasion, since the apprehension of ‘ this threat perpetually haunts and harrasses my ‘soul: for if it were better for the person, who ‘ offends only one, and him the least of his bre- «thren, that a millstone were hanged about his ‘neck, and he cast into the sea, and if all, who ‘wound the consciences of the brethren, are ‘guilty of sinning against Christ himself, what n“ will they have to undergo, who have destroyed a not one or two persons, but such multitudes?
nn What punishment (I repeat) will they suffer?
a For they can neither pretend inexperience, nor a resort to the plea of ignorance, nor to the a pretext of necessity and compulsion, which are n all excuses, much better suited to the case of a the laity, who are answerable only for their a own sins, than to the clergy, who must render a an account for the sins of others.
‘ What then is the consequence? That he, ‘whose situation requires him to correct the ‘errors of others, and to discern the hellish ‘war at a distance, will not be permitted to ‘ pretend ignorance, or to say—‘‘ I did not hear “the trumpet. I did not foresee the war.” ‘For he was posted, as Ezekiel says, for this ‘express purpose, that he might blow the ‘trumpet to others, and forewarn them of the ‘ coming danger: and for this reason his punish- ‘ment cannot be averted, even though there ‘should be but one person lost through his ‘neglect: for if, when the sword is coming, the ‘watchman should not blow the trumpet, and ‘ warn the people, and the sword should come, “and destroy, the victim dies in his iniquity. “* But his blood” (says he) “‘ will I require at the ‘“watchman’s hand.” Desist therefore from “ exposing me to so inevitable a sentence!
‘ For the subject we are now discussing is not ‘the command of an army, or a kingdom, but ‘a work, which demands angelic virtue. For the } ‘ soul of the priest ought to be purer than the ‘ sun-beams, that eeMolspitis may never leave ‘him empty, but that he may be enabled to say © ‘—“T live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.”’ ‘ For if those, who retire into the wilderness, ‘and are exempt from the troubles of the city ‘and the forum, enjoying only the harbour, and ‘a perpetual calm, are yet not satisfied with ‘ the security, which that life affords them, but ‘resort to numberless other precautions, fenc- ‘ing themselves with every safeguard, and ‘ observing an extreme exactness in all their ‘ words and actions, that as faras human ability ‘ extends, they may approach God with confi- ‘ dence and real purity, what strength and power ‘ do you imagine he requires, who is consecrated ‘to the priesthood, that he may be able to N ‘deliver his soul from all defilement, and to ‘keep its spiritual beauty bright? Surely he stands in need even of a more perfect purity n n than they do; and, while he requires a greater ro purity, he is subject also to fiercer assaults, n by which his spirit is sure to be ruffled, unless n~ he renders himself inaccessible to such vexaa tions by continual fasting, and great labour: “ for both beauty of countenance, and grace of n gesture, and elegance of gait, and refinement cay of language, and the painted eye-brow, and the rouged cheek, and the braided lock, and the artificially colored hair, and the costly “a a a dress, set off with a diversity of golden ornaa“ ments and fragrant perfumes, and those other a arts, by which the female sex improve their ON attractions, are sufficient to disturb a soul, a that is not hardened by much austerity and ~ prudence. Yet, that these things should disn compose the mind, is no matter of wonder.
¢ But it is a cause of deep astonishment and 6 serious perplexity to observe, how the devil ¢ contrives by the very contrary arts to these to é wound and injure the souls of men: for ‘there are persons, who, having escaped these “snares, have been caught in others of a very ‘ different nature: for even a neglected face, ‘ and dishevelled hair, and a slovenly attire, and ‘unfashionable address, and blunt manners, ‘and plain language, and inartificial gait, and * unmusical voice, and a life of penury, passed ‘amidst contempt, without a protector, and in ‘ solitude, have won those, who have noticed ‘it, to compassion, and thence led them on to ‘ the last stage of destruction, so, that many, ‘ who have not been allured by the first temp- * tations, which | mentioned, as golden orna- ‘ments, and perfumes, and apparel, and the ‘rest, have been easily mastered by these, so ‘ far different from them, and perished. Since ‘ therefore a war is kindled in the soul of the ‘ spectator, and machinations surround him on ‘ every side through the poverty of some, and ‘ the riches of others, through the magnificence ‘of wealth, and the carelessness of want, ‘ through refinement in one case, and simplicity ‘in another, how shall he find time to breathe “with so many dangers, enclosing him in a ‘circle? What retreat can he look for, that ‘he may avoid not so much being taken by