Select Letters

We are quite agreed. I think, that everything that is the object of our bodily senses is incapable of remaining a single moment in the same state, but is in motion and transition and possesses no actuality, that is, in plain language, has no real existence. In consequence, true, divine philosophy admonishes us to check and mitigate our affection for such things, as being very baneful and productive of detriment, so that even while in control of this mortal body, the soul may with intensity and fervour pursue those things that are ever the same and satisfy with no transient charm. Although this is true and although my mind envisages you in your simple and unalloyed character, as an individual who may be loved without disquietude, still I must confess that when you are absent in body and distant in space, I miss the pleasure of meeting and seeing you, and desire it. when it can be had, for the brethren. This fault, if I know you aright, you are glad to find in me. and. although you pray for every good thing for your dearest and closest friends, you are reluctant to see them cured of it. But if you have attained such strength of mind that you can both discern this pitfall and make mockery of those who have fallen into it, then you are indeed great and different from me, for I want my absent friend to miss me as long as I miss him. Yet, as far as I can, I watchfully strive to set my affections upon nothing that can cause me regret by its absence. Though engaged in this preventive course, I remind you in the meantime, whatever be your state of mind, that we must, if we care for each other, finish the discussion I had begun with you, for I should certainly not allow Alypius a to help in finishing it, even if he wanted to, which he doesn't. His kindly nature would make him second my efforts to keep contact with you by as many letters as I can send, even when your duties drive you farther away from us.

It is quite curious how surprised I am to discover, on inquiring what letters of yours I have still to answer, that I am in your debt for only one. In it you ask me to tell you what progress I have made, with the abundant leisure you think I have or wish, as

I do, that I had,a in discriminating between nature as perceived by the senses and as known to the intellect. I think, however, you are not unaware that, if one becomes more thoroughly enmeshed in false opinions the more deeply and familiarly one wallows in them, the same happens much more readily to the mind in things that are real. My progress is gradual, like the advance of age. There is a very great difference between a boy and a mature man. yet no one, if asked each day from boyhood on. will at any given time declare that he has reached maturity.

I don't want you to take this to mean you are to assume that, through the vigour of a more robust understanding. I have attained in such matters a kind of mental maturity. I am still mentally a boy; let us hope a fine, strapping one. as the phrase goes, but I am not badly off either. b For generally, when I am unsettled and oppressed with the anxieties arising from the impingement of sensations, I am raised to a fresher atmosphere by this brief reasoning, which you know so well: The mind and understanding are superior to the eyes and the common faculty of sight. That would not be so, unless the things we conceive were more real than those we perceive. Please examine with me whether there be anything that strongly conflicts with this line of reasoning. For the present I find it stimulating; yet, when I have asked God's help and have begun to rise towards Him and towards those things that are most really real. I am sometimes filled with such a foretaste of the things that abide, that I occasionally wonder at my needing the help of this reasoning to believe in the existence of those things that are as real within me as any man can be to himself,

Try you to remember, for I admit that you are more attentive to such details, in case I still owe you replies without knowing it. I can hardly believe I have so speedily discharged tasks I had once reckoned so numerous. Yet I am sure you must have had letters from me, to which I have received no answers.

Never has any of your problems kept me so troubled in mind as the remark you made in your last letter, reproaching me for failing to plan how we may live together. A serious charge, and were it not untrue, very threatening to our friendship. But since quite satisfactory reasons seem to show that we can lead our ideal life here better than at Carthage or in the country, I am altogether in doubt how I should deal with you, Nebridius. Am I to send you our most suitable conveyance? Our friend Lucinianus tells me that you can now ride in a sedan chair without any harm. But then your mother comes to my mind: if she cannot endure your absence when you are well, she will endure it much less when you are ill. Am I to come to you myself? But there are people here who cannot come with me and whom I think it criminal to leave behind. For you can be happily at home with your own mind, while these others are only striving towards that attainment. Am I to make frequent journeys back and forward, living with you part of the time and the other part with them? But that is neither living together nor living the ideal life. The journey is not short, sufficiently long, in fact, that the effort to perform it often would prevent our having the leisure we long for. In addition, there is my physical weakness; because of it. as you know, I am not able to do what I wish, unless I altogether give up wishing to do anything that I am not strong enough for.

To go through life planning journeys that cannot be undertaken without disturbance and trouble does not become one who is planning for that last journey we call death; with it alone, as you are aware, should our real plans be concerned. It is God's gift to some few men, whom He has appointed to rule over churches, not only to await death manfully but even to desire it eagerly, and to undertake the toil of those other journeys without any vexation. But in my opinion neither those who are impelled to such administrative tasks by love of worldly position, nor those who, though occupying no public post, hunger for a life of affairs, have been granted the great boon of acquiring amid their clamour and their restless running hither and thither that familiarity with death that we are seeking; both classes might have become godly in retirement. If this be untrue, then I am of all men, I won't say the most foolish, but certainly the most slothful, for I cannot relish and enjoy that real boon, unless I obtain release from work and worry. Complete withdrawal from the turmoil of transitory things is, believe me, essential before a man can develop that fearlessness in the face of death which is based neither on insensibility nor on foolhardy presumption, neither on the desire for empty glory nor on superstitions credulity. It is that which is the origin of that solid joy with which no pleasure from any transitory source is in any way to be compared.

But if human nature does not admit of such a life, why does that calmness of spirit ever befall us? Why does it befall us more frequently in proportion as each man worships God in the secret places of his mind? Why even amid ordinary mortal concerns does that peace, as a rule, linger on, when one goes forth from that inner shrine to do his part? Why is it that sometimes, even in conversation, death has no terrors for us, and, when conversation is stilled, it even allures us? I say to you (and I would not say it to everyone)—I say to you, knowing well, as I do, your journeyings to the upper world, will you, after frequent experience of the sweet life the soul lives when it dies to bodily affections, deny that a man's whole life can at length become so exempt from fear that he may rightly be called wise? Or will you venture to maintain that that state of mind, towards which reason strives, has ever befallen you, save when you were communing with your own heart? This being so, you see this one thing only remains for you—to consider for our mutual advantage how we may live together. You know much better than I do what is to be done with your mother; in any case your brother Victor is not leaving her. I write no more, for fear of diverting you from consideration of that problem.

Does this letter not show that, if we are short of papyrus, we have at least abundance of parchment? The ivory tablets I possess I have sent to your uncle with a letter; you will the more easily forgive this bit of skin, since my message to him could not be postponed, and I considered it very impolite not to write to you. If you have any tablets of mine beside you, please send them back for such emergencies as this. I have written something, as far as the Lord has deigned to grant me, on the Catholic Religion a: I want to send it to you before I come, if meanwhile paper does not fail me. for you will tolerate any kind of writing from the workshop of Majorinus. b Of the manuscripts everything has disappeared except the books On the Orator,c but I could not do any more in m v reply than tell you to take those you wanted, and I am still of the same mind. I don't know what more I can do in my absence.

It gave me very great pleasure that in your last letter you wanted to give me a share in your personal happiness, but bid'st thou me Ignore the portent of the sea's still face And slumbering waves? d

Yet you don't bid me, nor do you ignore it. So. if you do obtain some quietness for deeper reflection, avail yourself of what is a heavenly boon. For when such good fortune befalls us, we should not congratulate ourselves, but those through whom it has befallen us. If men discharge their temporal duties in a manner that is just and scrupulous and, considering their nature, more than ordinarily serene and composed, they grow more worthy of having eternal things committed to them, provided always that such temporal duties, when laid hold of, do not lay hold of them, do not enfold as they grow manifold, do not enmesh when they are pruned. e It has been said by the mouth of Truth Himself: If ye have not been faithful in that which is another's, who shall give you that which is your own? a Let us then relax our anxiety for transitory things and seek goods that are abiding and sure. Let us soar above our earthly possessions, for even when honey is abundant, the bee has not its wings for nothing: for if it stick in the honey, it dies.

I find interest and pleasure in frequent talk with you and in your provocative conversation, so, since you recently attacked me without unpleasantness and without disturbing our friendly relations, I make haste to give you back as good as you gave: otherwise you might have thought my silence implied a change of mind. But I beg you, if you consider my reply shows the stiffness of old age, to attend to it with a kindly ear. There is no sure evidence for the Greek fable that Mount Olympus is the dwelling-place of the gods, but we see and feel sure that the market-place of our own town is occupied by a crowd of beneficent deities. And indeed, who is so foolish, so mentally astray, as to deny the very certain truth that there is one supreme god, without beginning, without natural offspring, like a great and splendid father? His powers that permeate the universe he has made we call upon by many names, since to all of us his right name is of course unknown. For god is a name common to all cults, and so it is that while with differing prayers we pursue, as it were, his members piecemeal, we seem, in truth, to worship him entire.

But I cannot disguise my impatience with such a misconception as yours. For who could bear to see Miggo esteemed above Jove, wielder of thunderbolts,

Saname above Juno, Minerva, Venus, and Vesta, and your head-martyr. Namphamo a (save the mark!), above all the immortal gods? Among these Lucitas is honoured with a cult hardly inferior: and others endless in number, names hateful to gods and men, who, villains that they were, and heaping crime on crime, met an end befitting their character and deeds, vaunting of their death as glorious though inwardly well aware of their unspeakable offences. Fools flock to their tombs, I'm ashamed to say, forsaking the temples and abandoning the worship of their ancestors, so that the prediction of the scornful bard is clearly fulfilled:

And in God's temples Rome shall swear by shades. b

This time seems to me to be almost another battle of Actium. in which the monsters of Egypt are daring to brandish against the Roman gods weapons doomed to speedy destruction.

But I beg you. my learned friend, to reject, as unworthy of you, that vigorous eloquence which has brought you to universal fame, to abstain from those Stoic arguments that are your usual weapons, and to renounce for a while the logic which devotes all the strength of its sinews to robbing every man of certainty. Prove by the facts themselves who is that god whom you Christians claim as your peculiar property and whose presence you feign to see in secret places. a We indeed with reverent prayers worship our gods in daylight, openly before the eyes and ears of all mortals, and we earn their favour by acceptable sacrifices, taking pains to let our actions be seen and approved by everyone.

But I am a feeble old man, so I withdraw from any further contest and gladly give my adherence to that sentiment of the eloquent Mantuan:

Let each man be drawn by his own pleasure. b

After this, my distinguished friend, seceder that you are from my own faith, I fully expect that some thieves will steal this letter and that it will be burned or otherwise destroyed. In that event, it will only be the papyrus that will be lost, not what I have said, for I shall for ever keep a copy of it accessible to all the devout. May the gods keep you! Through them all we mortals whom earth bears worship and adore in a thousand ways and with harmonious variance one who is the common father both of the gods and of all mortal men.

Is it a serious discussion we are engaged in. or do you want only to be amused? The tone of your letter leaves me wondering whether your preference for humorous remarks to studied arguments is the result of your having a feeble case, or simply of your affability. First you make a comparison between Mount Olympus and your own market-place, the point of which I fail to see; unless it was your intention to remind me that it was in that mountain Jove pitched his camp when fighting against his father, according to the tale your co-religionists call sacred, and to remind me of the two images of Mars in that same market-place, one of them armed, the other in his tunic, while a human statue, standing over against them, uses three outstretched fingers to curb their evil influence that threatens your townsmen so direfully. So should I ever have believed that in mentioning your market-place you wanted to revive my recollection of such deities, if it had not been your intention to be facetious rather than to have a serious discussion? But as to your statement that such gods are portions of one great god, I give you plain warning: please refrain altogether from such irreverent jocularity. If you are really referring to the unity of that god about whom, as the ancients have it, learned and unlearned are in agreement, do you describe as portions of him those whose frightfulness, or, if you prefer the word, power, is kept in check by the statue of a single dead man? I could say a good deal more about this point: you are intelligent enough to see how far that remark of yours lays you open to censure. But I refrain, in case you imagine that I am quarrelling about words rather than seeking truth.

You have gathered together some Punic names of dead people, with the intention of making use of them to cast on our religion what you supposed to be witty abuse: I am not sure if I should refute your taunts or pass them over in silence. If such matters appear to a man of your sense to be as unimportant as they really are, I have not much time to spare for such pleasantry; if they appear to you important, I am surprised that if absurd names appeal to you, you did not remember that among your priests you have the Eucaddires, and among your deities the Abaddires. a I do not suppose that these did not occur to you when you were writing, but in your usual genial and witty way you wanted to amuse me by reminding me how many laughable things are to be found in your superstitions. Nor could you have forgotten yourself so far as to imagine that Punic names were to be railed at, when you, an African, were writing to Africans and seeing that we are both living in Africa. If we interpret those words, what does Namphamo mean but the man with the lucky foot? That is, the man whose coming brings some good fortune, just as we say that one whose arrival has been attended by some stroke of luck has entered with a prosperous foot. If you disapprove of Punic as a language, then you must refuse to admit that many wise things have been recorded in Punic books, as is declared by learned men; you must even feel shame that you were born in a district in which the cradle of that language is still warm. b If it is unreasonable that the sound of our own tongue should give us offence and if you grant that I have lightly interpreted that name, you have just cause to feel annoyed with your friend Virgil, who in these words invites your Hercules to the rites celebrated in his honour by Evander:

Us and thy rites with prosperous foot approach, In favouring mood. a

He prays him to come with prosperous foot; that is. he wants Hercules to come as Namphamo. in whom it pleases you to find much to taunt us with. But if you do take delight in jests, you have in your own religion ample material for ridicule: Stercutius. your god of manure, Cluacina. your goddess of purification. Bald Venus, your god Fear, your god Pallor, your goddess Fever, and countless others of the same kind, to whom the ancient Romans, worshippers of idols, built temples and thought worship should be offered. If you neglect them, you are neglecting Roman gods, thereby making it understood that you were not initiated into Roman rites, and yet you scorn and despise Punic names like one excessively devoted to the altars of Rome.

But altogether your depreciation of those rites seems perhaps greater than ours, though you gain from them some vague pleasure for life's journey. You had no hesitation even in invoking the authority of Virgil, as you say, and in shielding yourself by that line in which he says:

Each man is drawn by his own pleasure. b

If you are satisfied with Virgil's authority, as you indicate that you are, then you will certainly be satisfied with these lines too:

From high Olympus first came Saturn down, Fleeing Jove's arms, an exile from his realm,c and so on. By these lines the poet wants to show that

Saturn and such-like gods of yours were once men; he had read that mythical tale confirmed by ancient authority and known to Tully as well, for in his Dialogues a he draws attention to the same fact more explicitly than we should venture to ask. and tries, as far as those days allowed, to put it before men's notice.

Then again, you state that your rites are to be preferred to ours, on the ground that your worship is public, while we use more secret places of meeting. First, I ask you how it comes that you have forgotten your god Bacchus; you think he should be entrusted only to the eves of the few who are initiated. Then you convict yourself of having had no other intention, in mentioning the public celebration of your rites, than that of making us envisage, as in a mirror, your senators and notable townsmen raging and revelling through your city streets. If in that celebration you have the presence of a deity within you, you surely see what kind of being he is, when he destroys your reason. But if this is only an assumed madness, what are those secret rites that you actually practise in public? Or what is the object of so vile a piece of deceit? Or again, if you are inspired seers, why do you foretell no future events? Or why do you rend the clothes of the bystanders, if you are in your right mind? b

Since your letter has recalled to me these facts and others which I think it better to pass over for the present, why should I make fun of your gods, when anyone who knows your type of mind and reads your letter can see that you yourself poke stealthy fun at them? So, if you want us to discuss this topic in a manner befitting your age and good sense and answering the just demands of my close friends from one of my profession, look for some theme worthy of debate between us, and do your best to put forward on your gods' behalf arguments that will not make me think you are betraying your own case; for you certainly did suggest to me what can be said against them, rather than advance any statement on their behalf. Finally, I want to tell you something you should know, to keep you from being inadvertently drawn into irreverent gibes: Catholic Christians, who have a church established in your town too,a worship no dead man and adore nothing as a deity that was made and created by God; they worship only God himself, who made and created everything.

I shall enlarge on these facts by the help of our one true God, when I am assured that you want to treat them seriously.

First and foremost, I beg your wise Holiness to consider that there is nothing in this life, and especially in our own day. more easy and pleasant and acceptable to men than the office of a bishop or priest or deacon, if its duties be discharged in a mechanical and sycophantic way. but nothing more worthless and deplorable and meet for chastisement in the sight of God; and, on the other hand, that there is nothing in this life, and especially in our own day, more difficult, toilsome and hazardous than the office of a bishop or priest or deacon, but nothing more blessed in the sight of God. if our service be in accordance with our Captain's orders. b But how that is to be done I learned neither in my boyhood nor in my youth, and just as I had begun to learn. I was compelled by reason of my sins to assume the second place at the helm, although 1 did not know how to hold an oar.

But I imagine that it was my Lord's intention to chastise me because I was bold enough to rebuke many sailors for their faults, as though I were a wiser and a better man. before experience had taught me the nature of their work. So, on being sent into their midst, I then began to realize how presump- tuous were my rebukes, although even before that time I had concluded that this occupation was fraught with great hazards. That was the cause of those tears which some of the brethren noticed me shedding when I was newly ordained a; they said all they could to console me, but, though their intentions were good, their words had no bearing whatever on my trouble, as they did not know the reasons for my grief. But experience has revealed the hazards far, far more fully than even anticipation; it is not that I have observed some new breakers or storms unknown to me by previous observation or report or reading or meditation, but that I completely miscalculated my ability and strength to avoid them or endure them and reckoned it to be of some worth. But the Lord mocked me and by actual experience sought to show me just what I am.

If He did this in mercy and not in judgement, as I confidently hope now that I at last recognize my weak points, it is my duty to investigate all the remedies to be found in His Scriptures and to see that prayer and study procure for my soul adequate strength for such dangerous tasks. I had no time before the ceremony, so I failed to do it then: I was ordained just when I was planning for a period of leisure in order to make myself acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, and when I was arranging to obtain some spare time for that task. The truth is, I did not realize my lack of qualifications for the duties that now vex and harass me. If experience has taught me what is requisite for one who dispenses God's word and sacrament to the people, only now to be debarred from acquiring what I know I do not possess, are you, Father Valerius, simply decreeing my ruin? Where is your affection for me? Do you really love me? Do you really love the Church which you want me to serve with this poor equipment? Yet I am sure that you love us both, but you think me quite well equipped, though I know myself better; but I should not have acquired this knowledge, had it not been taught me by experience.

But perhaps your Holiness replies: I should like to know wherein your training is deficient. It has so many deficiencies that it would be easier for me to enumerate the things I have acquired than those I want to acquire. I might venture to say that I know and hold with complete trust what belongs to our salvation. But how am I to minister even that for the salvation of others, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved a? Perhaps there are some admonitions written in the holy books—nay, it is certain that there are—which, if a man of God grasp and apply them to himself, will enable him to discharge his more ordinary clerical duties, or at least amidst the wicked to keep so sound a conscience that, whether living or dying, he lose not that life for which alone humble and gentle Christian hearts long. But how can this be done, except, as the Lord Himself says, by asking, seeking and knocking. b that is, by prayer, study and beating of the breast? It was for this task that I sought through my brethren to obtain from your dear Reverence a short space of time, say until Easter, and to that I now add this present supplication.

For what answer am I to make to the Lord, when

He judges me? That I had no opportunity for self improvement in the embarrassment of clerical duties? If He were to say to me: Thou wicked servant,a if some rogue were preying upon the Church's property, the fruits of which are gathered with great expenditure of effort, and your intervention before an earthly bar could be of some avail, would not everyone agree and some even command and compel you to abandon the field that I watered with My own Blood and proceed to court, and if the verdict were unfavourable, even to make the journey across the sea? You might spend a year or more without being recalled by grumbling, in preventing the land needful for the bodily, not the spiritual, welfare of the poor from falling into other hands; yet their hunger would be appeased much more easily and more satisfactorily to Me, by My living trees, if they were carefully tended. Why then do you complain that you had no leisure to learn My husbandry? Tell me. what answer could I make? I wonder if you would like me to say: But the Senior b Valerius thought my training was complete and, out of his great love for me, gave me all the less opportunity to acquire what I lacked?

Consider all these points, Senior Valerius; I entreat you by the goodness and severity of Christ, by His mercy and judgement, by Him who inspired you with such affection for me that even to gain my own soul I would not venture to displease you. You call upon the Lord and Christ to bear witness to me of the single-mindedness and liking and warm affection you have towards me, as if I could not take an oath myself on them all. To that liking and affection

I appeal: pity me and give me the time I want for the thing I want; give me the aid of your prayers, that my desire be not in vain and my absence not without fruit to the Church of Christ and the welfare of my brethren and fellow-servants. I am sure that the Lord does not despise such affection when it expresses itself in prayer for me, especially in a matter of this kind. He will accept it as a sweet sacrifice, and perhaps in a shorter time than I have asked for will provide from the health-giving counsels of His Scriptures the instruction I need.

I. After long hesitation I have not discovered how most gratefully to reply to your Holiness's letter, for all my efforts were thwarted by my heartfelt emotion, which rising of its own accord was much more warmly stirred by the reading of your letter. But I east myself upon God that He might work in me according to my strength, so that I should reply to you as befitted our mutual zeal in the Lord and our care for His church, you in your exalted station and I in my subordinate post. And, first, so far from declining your assurance that you believe my prayers avail for you, I gladly welcome it, for in this way the Lord will hear and answer me. if not through my own prayers, then certainly through yours. I am more grateful to you than I can well express for your kindly approval of brother Alypius's action in remaining a member of our fellowship, as an example to the brethren who wish to withdraw from the cares of this world. May God recompense your soul for this! The whole company of brethren that has begun to form around them is therefore bound to you with great gratitude, for you looked after our interests as if very present in spirit, although our abode is so far removed from yours in space. So we devote our best strength to praying that the Lord will deign to uphold with you the flock committed to your care and that He will never leave you but be a present help in time of trouble,a showing with His Church such mercy through your ministry as spiritual men implore Him with tears and groanings to show.

Let me assure you, therefore, my Lord most revered, worthy of all devotion and of overflowing affection, that we are not without hope—nay, are rather strongly hopeful—that through the authority you bear, laid, as we trust, not on your flesh, but on your spirit, our Lord and God may use the weighty sword of councils and your own weight for the healing of the many carnal sores and disorders which the African Church is suffering in so many quarters and lamenting in so few. b In one passage the Apostle has set down to be hated and shunned three classes of vice from which has sprung an incalculable crop of sins. One of them, which he places only in the second rank, the Church punishes most severely; the other two, the first and the last-mentioned, appear to men to be quite tolerable, and so they may gradually come to be looked upon as not sins at all. The words of the Chosen Vessel c are these: Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof. a

Of these three classes, chambering and wantonness are considered so great an offence that no one who has defiled himself with that sin is considered worthy not merely of holding office in the Church, but even of participation in the sacraments. And quite rightly so, but why single out these? Rioting and drunkenness are considered so permissible and tolerable that they are practised not only on holy days, when the blessed martyrs are honoured,—a lamentable sight to anyone who looks on such festivities with more than a carnal eye,—but even on any and every day. Were this depravity only immoral and not sacrilegious as well, we might think of putting up with it with what power of endurance we could. And yet, what about the same Apostle's statement, when he ends his lengthy list of vices, among which drunkenness finds a place, by saying: With such an one not even to eat bread b? Are we to put up with it in the disgraceful debauchery of private life and of those festivities that are confined to private houses, and receive the Body of Christ in the company of those with whom we are forbidden to eat bread? At least let such a disgraceful practice be removed from the cemeteries c where the bodies of the saints are laid, and from the place where the sacraments are celebrated, and from the house of prayer. For who dare forbid the use in private of that which, when practised in holy places, is called a tribute to the martyrs?

If Africa were the first to attempt the removal of these abuses, she would be worthy of imitation by all other countries. But since they have been repressed and done away with through the greater part of Italy and in all, or nearly all, the other churches across the sea, partly because they were never in use, partly because, when they did arise or were of long standing, the scrupulousness and censure of saintly bishops, truly contemplating the life to come... how can we hesitate to correct this grave moral corruption, especially after the precedent set by so many others? We have, too, as bishop a man belonging to those regions, for which fact we heartily thank God. Yet he is of such moderation and gentleness, such wisdom and zeal in the Lord, that, even if he were an African, he would readily have been persuaded from the Scriptures to undertake the cure of the wound that this dissolute and disorderly custom has inflicted. But the disease wrought by this evil habit has become so chronic that complete recovery seems to me to be impossible, unless by the authority of a council; or if any one church has to begin the treatment, it appears foolish to try to change anything the Church of Carthage retains, and very presumptuous to desire to keep anything the Church of Carthage has rectified. And to carry through that reform here, what bishop could be more desirable than the one who, as a deacon, denounced such abuses?

But what at that time you could only deplore must now be repressed, not harshly, but as Scripture puts it, in the spirit of gentleness and meekness. a Your letter, revealing as it does deep brotherly affection, encourages me to talk to you as I would to myself. It is not by harshness, in my opinion, or by severity, or by overbearing methods, that such evils are removed, but by education rather than by formal commands, by persuasion rather than by intimidation. That is the kind of treatment to use with men in the mass, while severity should be employed against the sins of individuals. If there be any intimidation, let it be done with sorrow by the threats of future punishment from the Scriptures, then the fear we inspire will not be of ourselves or our authority, but of God speaking in us. In this way an impression will first be made on the spiritually minded or on those most nearly so, and by their influence and gentle, but urgent, expostulation the rest of the crowd will be subdued.

But since those drunken revels in cemeteries and those social orgies are usually considered by the carnal and ignorant laity not only to honour the martyrs but also to comfort the dead, they could. I think, be more easily prevailed upon to abandon that scandalous and vicious practice, if, besides forbidding it on Scriptural grounds, we ensure that the offerings made upon tombs for the spirits of those who have fallen asleep (and we must surely believe that they are of some avail) be not extravagant and be tendered without ostentation or reluctance to any who seek them, but be not sold. If any person wishes from religious motives to make an offering in coin, let him distribute it to the poor on the spot. In this way people will not have the appearance of neglecting their own burial-places, which might pro- duce no slight heart-soreness, and the ceremonies in church will be conducted with piety and decorum. So much then, meanwhile, for rioting and drunkenness.

II. Then again, concerning strife and envying, what right have I to speak, since such sins are more serious among ourselves than among the laity? These evils are the offspring of pride and eagerness for the praise of men, which often begets hypocrisy as well. The only way they can be resisted is by instilling the fear and love of God with repeated arguments from the holy books, provided that one who follows this method shows himself a pattern of patience and humility, arrogating to himself less honour than is offered him and yet accepting from those who pay him honour neither everything nor nothing, but accepting whatever honour and praise is offered him. not on his own behalf, since he ought to be living with a sole eye to God and to despise merely mortal rewards, but for their sakes whose welfare he cannot promote if he depreciate himself so much that he loses men's esteem. That is the point of the saying, Let no man despise thy youth, a although he who said those words remarks in another place, If I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ. b

It is a great matter not to rejoice in human praise and honours but to discard all empty ostentation, and, if any of it must be kept, to turn it all to the use and the well-being of those who honour us. Not for nothing has it been said, God will break the bones of those who seek to please men c; for what is more feeble, more lacking in steadfastness and strength (for this is what " bones " symbolize), than an individual who is unnerved by the voice of slander, when he knows that what is being said against him is untrue? The pain of receiving such treatment would certainly not rend his inmost soul, unless the love of praise were breaking his bones. I have every confidence in your strength of mind, so what I am discussing with you I am applying to myself; still, you are good enough, I think, to consider with me how serious and difficult a matter this is. Only one who has declared war on that foe realizes his power, for, although it is easy to do without praise, when it is denied us, it is hard not to take pleasure in it, when it is offered. And yet our minds ought to be so completely uplifted to God that, if we are undeservedly praised, we may correct those we can, lest they should think we possess gifts that are not ours, or that the gifts we have from God are our own, or praise qualities we do possess and even possess in a marked degree, but which are in no way matters for praise, for example all those advantages we share with animals or with unchristian men. But if we are deservedly praised for God's sake, we should congratulate those who find pleasure in what is truly good, and not ourselves for pleasing men, and that only if we are in the eyes of God what they take us to be and offer the praise not to us, but to God; for everything that is truly and deservedly praised is a gift from Him. This is what I keep on saying to myself each day, or rather He does, from whom come whatever salutary counsels are found in Scripture readings or are suggested to the mind from within. Yet, strenuously as I struggle with the adversary, I often receive wounds from him, since I cannot rid myself of delight in the praise that is offered me.

Your Holiness may have no further need for counsels of this kind, either because your own reflection has suggested a richer store of beneficial principles, or else because your Holiness has passed the stage of requiring remedies of this kind. My purpose in writing as I have done is to make you aware of my vices and to let you know what, in view of my weakness, you might ask God for. I beseech you by the humanity of Him who has laid down the rule that we should bear each other's burdens,a to do this most earnestly. There is much in my life and conduct that I deplore, but I should prefer that it should not reach you by letter; between my heart and your heart there should be no intermediary save my mouth and your ears. If our venerated Senior, Saturninus, whom we all regard with very genuine affection, and whose really brotherly kindness and concern for you I saw when I was with you, will deign to visit us when he sees it convenient, any conversation I may have with that holy and warm-hearted and spiritually-minded man will be little, if any, different from what I might have with your Grace. With entreaties that surpass all expression I urge you to be good enough to join me in asking and obtaining a visit from him. The people of Hippo are much afraid, indeed excessively so, to let me go so far away from them, and they are in no wise willing to trust me, as I trust you.

Before your letter reached me, I learned through our saintly brother and fellow-servant, Parthenius, of the ground provided for our brethren by your forethought and generosity. He gave us besides much news that we were anxious to have. The Lord will grant the fulfilment of the other things also for which we are still anxious.

I. Never did any man know another's features as well as I have come to know what peaceful joy you find in your studies in the Lord and what truly noble application you give to them. My desire for thorough acquaintance with you is of the strongest, yet I lack only one small portion of you. namely your bodily presence. But, I can assure you, even that has been to a large extent imprinted on my mind by the account given me by brother Alypius. now a much revered bishop, but even then, when he saw you, well worthy of that office. I saw him on his return, but even before then, while he was seeing you there, I too saw you. though with his eyes. For anyone who knows us both would say that he and I are distinct individuals in body only, not in mind; I mean in our harmoniousness and trusty friendship, not in merit, in which he far outstrips me. So it is not presumptuous of me, as if I were a stranger to you, since you already cherish affection for me from the unity of spirit, first of all, that makes us strive for one common end and then, from what Alypius has told you of me. to commend to your fraternal kindness our brother Profuturus b; it is my hope that through my efforts on his behalf and then through your assistance he really will profit —except perhaps that he is the kind of man who will give you a better opinion of me than I have given you of him. At this point I should perhaps have laid down my pen if I were satisfied with the usual formal letter, but so many remarks swarm into my mind that I must exchange with you about the studies with which we are occupied in Jesus Christ, our Lord, who even through your Charity is pleased to provide us, in no stinted manner, with many benefits and, so to speak, resources for the journey He has prescribed.

II. We beg you then (and we are joined in this by all the company of students in the African churches) not to refuse to devote toil and trouble to translating the works of those who have so excellently expounded our Scriptures in Greek. You can put us in possession of those notable commentators and of one in particular, whose name you utter in your writings with more than usual pleasure. a But in translating the holy canonical writings into Latin I should not like you to follow any other method than that in which you translated Job, namely by applying signs to show wherein your translation differs from that of the Seventy, whose authority is of the weightiest. But I should be incredibly surprised if anything is found at this time of day in the Hebrew manuscripts that has escaped so many translators possessing expert knowledge of that language. I leave the Seventy out of account; of their unanimity of mind or of inspiration, greater than if only one man had been concerned, I should not venture to express a definite opinion in any direction, except that I think there can be no question that in this sphere they must be conceded an outstanding authority. I am more concerned about the later translators; they are said to have possessed a more thorough grip of the course and the rules of Hebrew words and phrases, and yet they are not only at variance with each other, but have also left many points that have remained to be unearthed and brought to light after so long. For if these points are obscure, then it is quite credible that you too may go astray in them; if they are clear, it is incredible that they could have gone astray in them. I should like to ask you of your kindness to explain the reasons for this state of things and to give me some assurance about it.

III. I have been reading some books that are said to be by you, on the Epistles of the Apostle Paul: in seeking to expound Galatians. you reached that passage in which the Apostle Peter is withheld from a piece of pernicious deceit. a To see there the defence of falsehood undertaken by a man like you or by some other person (if another person was the author) has caused me, I confess, no small grief, which I shall continue to feel until the objections that trouble my mind are disproved, if they really can be disproved. For it seems to me very disastrous to believe that there can be any falsehood in the sacred books—I mean that those men who wrote and transmitted to us the Scripture, in any way lied in what they wrote. They are two quite different questions, whether it ever accords with a good man's character to lie, and whether a writer of the Holy

Scriptures should have lied—nay, they are not really different questions, there is no question about it. Admit even a single well-meant falsehood a into such an exalted authority, and there will not be left a single section of those books which, if appearing to anyone to present difficulties from the point of view of practice or to be hard to believe from the point of view of doctrine, will escape, by the same very baneful principle, from being classified as the deliberate tact of an author who was lying.

If the Apostle Paul was lying when he rebuked the Apostle Peter with the words, If thou, being a Jew, livest after the manner of the Gentiles and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to live as do the Jews? b and he approved of Peter's action while condemning him by word and pen with the ostensible object of soothing the mind of those who were raging against him, what answer shall we make when perverse men arise and forbid marriage (as the Apostle foretold would happen c), declaring that all that he said about strengthening the marriage-bond d was a lie told for the sake of those men who from love of their wives might have made an uproar, that clearly those were not his real sentiments, but were meant to allay their antagonism? There is no need to give many illustrations. There might appear to be well-meant falsehoods even about the praise of God, aiming at inflaming love for Him in men comparatively hard of heart, and on those terms nowhere in the holy books would the authority of unadulterated truth stand unchallenged. Do we not observe the great care with which the same apostle commends truth in the words: And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain and your faith is also vain; yea, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we have testified of God that He raised up Christ; whom He raised not up a? If anyone should say to him: What is it in this lie that shocks you, when, even if what you say is untrue, it very greatly redounds to the glory of God? would he not denounce the madness of such a suggestion and with every available word and sign open to the light the inmost secrets of his heart, declaring that to praise falsehood in God was no less a sin, perhaps even a much greater one, than to cast aspersion upon His truth? An effort must be made to bring to a knowledge of the sacred Scriptures a man who will have such a reverent and truthful opinion of the holy books that he would refuse to find delight in a well-meant falsehood anywhere in them, and would rather pass over what he does not understand than prefer his own intelligence to their truth. For indeed when he expresses such a preference, he demands credence for himself and attempts to destroy our confidence in the authority of the holy Scriptures.

For my part I would use all the strength the Lord supplies to show that all those texts that are adduced to prove the expediency of falsehood ought to be understood in another sense, so that everywhere their unimpeachable veracity might be made apparent. For just as texts ought not to be lies in themselves, so they should lend no support to lies. But I leave this matter to your own intelligence; if you apply a more attentive consideration to the reading of them, you will perhaps see this more easily than I do. To that consideration you will be compelled by the reverent spirit that makes you recognize that the authority of the holy Scriptures becomes unsettled, so that anyone may believe what he likes in them and disbelieve what he does not like, if it be once admitted that those men through whom they were delivered to us could in their writings have uttered some well-meant lies. But perhaps you mean to provide us with some rules for discerning when lying is expedient and when it is not. If this can be done, I beg you not to couch your explanation in terms that are false or equivocal, nor, by the very true humanity of our Lord, to consider me burdensome or presumptuous. For a mistake on my part that favours truth is, I will not say no fault at all, but certainly no serious fault, if in you the truth can rightly favour lying.

IV. There are many other matters about which

I should like to have converse with your friendly spirit and to discuss with reference to Christian studies, but for this desire of mine no letter is sufficient; I can do that more fruitfully through the brother whom I am glad to send to be admitted to the nurture of your pleasant and profitable conversation. And yet even he (I apologize to him for saying this) has perhaps not the capacity to receive all I should like. But still I should not reckon myself his superior in any respect, for I confess that I have more room for receiving from you than he has; but I see him becoming fuller of you, and in that there is no doubt that he surpasses me. When he returns, as I trust he will succeed in doing with God's, help, and shares with me his understanding that you have richly stored, he is not likely to satisfy the void and the eagerness that I shall still have for your thoughts and feelings, and so I shall even then be the poorer and he the richer. The same brother, however, carries with him some of my writings, to which, if you have the condescension to read them, please apply an unbiased and brotherly severity. For I take the words of Scripture, The righteous shall correct me with pity and reprove me. but the oil of the sinner shall not anoint my head, a to mean this, that he is the greater friend whose censure heals than he whose flattery anoints the head. When I myself read over what I have written. I find the greatest difficulty in judging it lightly, being either over-cautious or over-rash. I catch occasional sight of my faults, but I prefer to hear of them from better men, lest after censuring myself, perchance rightly, I fall again into self-flattery and think that my judgement of myself was more finical than fair.

In the absence of brother Macarius,c I can give you no definite news meanwhile about that affair, which cannot fail to concern me. He is said to be returning soon, and what God's help will enable me to carry through, shall be carried through. Although the brethren, our fellow-townsmen, who were with you, could assure you of our zeal on their behalf, still a piece of news deserving of that epistolary con- verse which is a solace to us both has been provided by the Lord, in gaining Whose favour I believe I have been much assisted by that very anxiety of yours on my behalf, for it certainly must have been accompanied by intercession for me.

So let me not miss the chance of telling your

Charity what has happened, so that, as you joined me in pouring forth prayers for the bestowing of this boon, you may join me in giving God thanks for it, now that it has been bestowed. News was brought me after your departure, as it had been several times while you were here, that people were growing unruly and were saying they could not tolerate the prohibition of that festival, the drunken character of winch they try in vain to disguise under the name of a gaudy. Very appropriately, by a hidden dispensation of Almighty God, it happened that on the Wednesday a I was expounding in its due course that section b from the Gospel: Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine. c I discoursed about dogs and swine in such a way as to compel those to blush for very shame who were obstinately snarling and brawling against God's commandments and were abandoned to foul carnal pleasures. I ended up by showing them the heinousness of perpetrating within the four walls of the church, in the name of religion, what would necessitate their exclusion from " that which is holy " and the " pearls " of the church, if they persisted in doing it within their own homes.

They took this in quite a good spirit, but as the congregation was small, a matter so important demanded further treatment. When my hearers spread news of my sermon outside, each according to his ability and point of view, it found many to oppose it. But after the morning of Quadragesima had dawned and a considerable crowd had gathered at the time of Scripture exposition, we read that portion from the Gospel where the Lord drove from the Temple the sellers of animals and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, saying that His Father's house had been turned from a house of prayer into a den of thieves. a After securing their attention by announcing the subject of drunkenness, I read that section myself and followed it with an address designed to show that, if our Lord drove lawful trade from the Temple, since what was sold was requisite for the sacrifices permitted under that dispensation, He would with much greater indignation and violence drive from it drunken revels, which are abominable anywhere. And I asked them which they thought more like a den of thieves, those who sold necessaries or those who drank beyond measure.

The Scripture readings, turned up beforehand, were being held ready to hand up to me, so I went on to say that the Jewish people, though yet carnal, never held even sober feasts, far less drunken ones, in that Temple in which as yet there was no offering up of the body and blood of the Lord, and that as a people they were never found in the Bible b drunk in the name of religion, unless when they were celebrating a feast to the idol they had made. c So saying, I took the book and read all that passage. Reminding them that the Apostle, to distinguish the Christian people from the obdurate Jews, speaks of his letter as written not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of the heart, a I went on to ask with all the sorrow I could how it was that, though God's servant, Moses, had broken those two tables of stone b because of the rulers of Israel, we found it impossible to break their hearts; they were men of the new covenant, yet they chose, in celebrating their saints' days, to practise such rites as the people of the old covenant had practised only once, and that before an idol.

Then I gave back the book of Exodus and enlarged. as far as time permitted, on the sin of drunkenness, taking the apostle Paul and showing in what class of sins he placed it. I read that passage, If any man that is called a brother be a fornicator or covetous or an idolater or a railer or a drunkard or an extortioner, with such an one no, not to eat, c reminding them with groanings what a risk we ran in carousing with those who got drunk even at home. I read that passage, too, which follows quite close to the last, Be not deceived: neither fornicators nor idolaters nor adulterers nor effeminate nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves nor covetous nor drunkards nor revilers nor extortioners shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you, but ye are washed, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. d After which, I bade them consider how the faithful could bear to be told But ye are washed, when they still tolerated in their heart, that is in the inward Temple of God, such filthy lusts, against which the kingdom of heaven is closed. Then I came to that section, When ye come together into one place, that is not to eat the Lord's Supper; for in eating every one taketh before other his own supper, and one is hungry, and another is drunken. What? have ye not houses to eat and to drink in? or despise ye the Church of God? a After reading that, I earnestly pressed the point that it was not right that even decorous and sober feasts should be held in church, for the Apostle did not say, Have ye not houses of your own to get drunk in? as though it were only in church that getting drunk was not allowed; what he did say was to eat and to drink in, a seemly enough action, provided it be done outside the church by those who have houses in which they can be refreshed by the necessary food. And yet what straits we had fallen into, what corrupt times and lax morals, that we could not yet hope for decorous feasts, but only that the dominion of drunkenness should be confined to the home.

I mentioned, too, a passage in the Gospels which

I had expounded the day before, in which it is said of false prophets, By their fruits ye shall know them. b Then I reminded them that there " fruits " meant only works. Next I asked them what fruits drunkenness was reckoned among, repeating to them that passage in Galatians, Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of the which I tell you, as I have told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. c After these words, I asked them how, when the Lord has enjoined that Christians be recognized by their fruits, we could ever be so recognized by the fruits of drunkenness. I added that we must read too the verse that follows, But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance, a and I urged them to consider how shameful and lamentable it was that they were not satisfied with practising those fruits of the flesh at home, but actually wanted to honour the church with them and, if they were only allowed, to fill up all the space of a church of this great size with crowds of banqueters and drunkards; yet they would not offer to God the tribute of those spiritual fruits, to which they were invited both by the authority of the Holy Scriptures and by our groanings, and with them rather than any others celebrate the saints' days.

After that, I handed back the manuscript and, being asked to speak,b I set before their eyes, as far as I could and as far as the danger itself impelled me and the Lord was pleased to afford me strength, our common danger, theirs, who were entrusted to our care, as well as ours, who were to render an account of them to the Chief Shepherd. I implored them by His humiliation, the unequalled insults, buffetings, and spitting on the face that He endured, by the blows on His face c and His crown of thorns and cross and blood, to have pity at least for me, if they had any reason for personal displeasure, and to consider the inexpressible affection felt for me by the venerable Senior, Valerius, who for their sakes had not hesitated to lay upon me the dangerous burden of expounding the words of truth a and had often said to them that my coming had been an answer to his prayers; but his rejoicing was surely that I had come to him not to share or to behold their death, but to share their efforts towards eternal life. Finally, I told them that I had trust and confidence in Him who cannot lie, who made by the mouth of His prophet a promise concerning our Lord Jesus Christ, in the words, If His children forsake My law and walk not in My judgements; if they break My statutes and keep not My commandments; then will I visit their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes; nevertheless My loving-kindness will I not utterly take from Him b—I had confidence therefore in Him that if they despised the grave warnings that had been read and addressed to them, He would visit them with the rod and with stripes, but would not leave them to condemnation along with the world. Throughout this protest I acted as our Defender and Ruler, to meet the importance of the matter and the greatness of the danger, provided me with courage and ability. I did not move them to weep by first weeping myself, but while such remarks were being addressed to them, their own tears came first and I confess that I could not keep back my own. After we had thus wept together, I concluded my sermon in the full anticipation of their amendment.

But on the morrow, when the day dawned for which it was the habit of their throats and stomachs to prepare, I was told that some of those who had been present at my sermon had not even then given over complaining, and were so much under the influence of that vile custom that they were speaking in terms of it alone and saying, Why thus late in the day? Those who allowed it in times past were surely not unchristian. On hearing this, I was quite at a loss what weapons to prepare that would have a greater effect on them, but still, if they decided to continue in that frame of mind, I was intending to read that passage from the prophet Ezekiel, The watchman is absolved if he has uttered a warning of the danger, even if those whom he has warned have not cared to take precaution, a and to shake my garments and depart. But at that point the Lord showed that He does not forsake us, and taught me the means He takes to encourage us to put our trust in Him, for before the time at which I had to mount into the choir,b those same individuals came in to me who, as I had learned, had complained of my attack upon their long-established custom. I received them graciously, and needed only a few words to bring them round to a sound state of mind. And when it came to the time for my discourse, I left out the reading I had prepared, since it no longer appeared to be needed, and made a few remarks about the very point they had raised, stating that we could put forward against those who say Why thus late in the day? no briefer and truer reply than to imitate them and say, Yes, thus late in the day.

Yet to avoid the appearance of casting any slight upon those who in earlier times either allowed, or did not venture to forbid, the ignorant mob to perpetrate these open sins, I explained to them the critical circumstances in which those practices apparently arose in the Church. When peace was made after many violent persecutions, crowds of pagans were anxious to come over to the Christian name but were hindered by the fact that they were accustomed to spend their feast-days with their idols in drunkenness and excessive banqueting and could not easily abstain from those baneful but long-established pleasures. So our predecessors thought it good to make concessions for the time being to those weaker brethren, and to let them celebrate in honour of the holy martyrs other feast-days, in place of those they were giving up, unlike them, at any rate, in profanation, though like them in excess. Now that they were bound together by the name of Christ and submissive to the yoke of His great authority, they must inherit the wholesome rules of sobriety, and these they could not oppose because of their veneration and fear for Him whose rules they were. It was now high time, therefore, for such as had not the courage to deny that they were Christians, to begin to live according to the will of Christ, casting behind them, now that they were Christians, the concessions made to induce them to become Christians. a

Then I urged them to undertake to follow the example of the churches overseas, in some of which those practices were never admitted, while in others they had already been corrected by the agency of good leaders and compliance on the part of the people. b And as examples of daily excess in drinking were produced to me from the Church of the blessed apostle Peter, I stated in the first place that I had heard that they had often been forbidden, but since the place was at a distance from the bishop's control a and in a city of that size there was a great crowd of carnally-minded people, the pilgrims especially, of whom fresh batches were continually arriving, clinging to that custom with a vehemence proportionate to their unenlightenment, it had not yet been possible to restrain and repress such a monstrous disorder. But yet, if we honoured the apostle Peter, we personally should give ear to his counsels and pay much more zealous attention to the Epistle in which his intention is revealed, than to his church, in which it is not, and straightway, taking up the manuscript, I read the passage where he says, Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind, for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin, that he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God. For the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revellings, banquetings and abominable idolatries. b After that, when I perceived that all with one mind were turning to a right disposition and spurning their wretched custom, I enjoined them to attend at mid-day for Scripture reading and singing of psalms: it was our purpose in that way to celebrate that day with much more decency and purity, and it could easily be seen, from the number of those who assembled, who was following reason and who was the slave of appetite. So, when everything had been read, my sermon concluded.

In the afternoon a greater crowd attended than in the forenoon, and reading and singing went on alternately until the hour when I was to come out with the bishop. When we came out. two psalms were read, then the Senior compelled me by express injunction to say something to them, though it was against my will, for by this time I was lunging for the end of so critical a day. I gave a short address with the object of rendering thanks to God, and as we heard in the church of the heretics a the noise of the usual feasting that they were celebrating (for even at the very time when we were so engaged they were still lingering in their cups), I remarked that the beauty of the day was enhanced by comparison with the night and that a white colour was more pleasing alongside of a black; thus our gathering for a spiritual celebration would perhaps have been less gratifying without the contrast of gluttonous carnality from other quarters. And I exhorted them that such were the banquets that they should eagerly seek after, if they had tasted how-sweet the Lord is. but that fear was to be the lot of those who seek as the chief object of desire anything that would some day be destroyed. For each man is made to share the fate of that which he worships, and such people had been mocked by the Apostle in the words, whose god is their belly, b since in another place he has used the words: Meats for the belly and the belly for meats, but God shall destroy both it and them. c It was therefore our duty to follow after that which is not to be destroyed, which through the sanctification of the spirit is kept far removed from what befalls the flesh. And so, when what the Lord was pleased to suggest had been for the occasion spoken along those lines, the usual daily evening service a was held and we retired with the bishop, while the brethren repeated hymns there and a considerable crowd of both sexes remained and engaged in singing until darkness fell.

I have set forth for you, as briefly as I could, what

I am sure you were anxious to hear. Pray that God will graciously protect my efforts from providing any cause of offence or any distress. In no small measure we share with lively warmth of affection in your contentment that such frequent gifts to us from the spiritually-minded church of Tagaste are intimated. The ship with the brethren has not yet arrived. At Asna,b where the priest is brother Argentius, the Circumcellions c have broken into our church and smashed the altar. The case is at present being tried; we earnestly beg you to pray that the trial may give no provocation, and may serve, as becomes the Catholic Church, to check the tongue of provocative heresy. I have sent a letter to the Asiarch. d

May ye remain steadfast in the Lord, brethren, in all blessedness, and forget us not! Amen.

God knows (for to Him the secrets of the human heart are manifest) that, as I love Christian peace, so I am disturbed by the profane deeds of those who basely and impiously persist in dissenting from it; He knows too that my indignation springs from a desire for peace and that my object is not to drive anyone into the Catholic communion against his will, but to have the naked truth made known to all who are astray and revealed by God's help through my ministry, commending itself so well that they may embrace and follow it.

I pass over other matters and ask you what could be more abominable than what has now happened? A young man is rebuked by his bishop for repeatedly thrashing his mother like a madman and for not withholding his unfilial hands from the body that gave him birth even on those days when the very harshness of the law shows mercy to the vilest criminals. a He threatens his mother to go over to the Donatist party and to do her to death, used as he is to thrash her with unbelievable ferocity. He makes this threat, goes over to the Donatist party, receives re-baptism while still in his frenzy, and is arrayed in the white vestments of a candidate for baptism while still raging for his mother's blood. Within the altar-rails he is set up in a prominent and conspicuous position and, while planning matricide, he is exhibited to the eyes of all the disgusted congregation as a regenerate man.

Do you, a man of sober judgement, really approve of this? I should never believe it of you; I know how sensible a man you are. A mother after the flesh is beaten on the body which bore and nurtured her thankless son; when the Church, his spiritual mother, forbids this, she too is beaten in her sacraments, by which she bore and nurtured her thankless son. Don't you think it is as if he had said in his rage for a parent's blood, What shall I do to the Church, which forbids my beating my mother? I know what I will do. I will wound her too with every possible insult; I will commit anything that will cause her members pain; I will betake me to those who are experienced in sneering at the grace in which she gave me birth, in destroying the form I received in her womb; with cruel agonies let me rack both these mothers of mine. Let the one who gave me second birth be the first to give me burial; for her grief I shall seek spiritual death, but for the other's death I shall continue my earthly life. What else can we expect, my esteemed Eusebius, than this, that the man who, while he was in the Catholic Church, was restrained from thrashing the unfortunate woman, crippled with age and a lonely widow, will be free to employ his weapons against her, now that he is a Donatist? What other purpose was in his raving heart when he said to his mother, I will go over to the Donatist party and will drink your blood? See now, with blood-stained conscience, but arrayed in white vestments, he has carried out one part of his threat; the second part, the drinking of his mother's blood, awaits fulfilment.

If that is the kind of thing you approve of, let your clergy and those who are to carry through his sanctification instigate him to fulfil all his vow within his eight days. a

But the Lord's right hand is strong to restrain his rage from that unfortunate and lonely widow and, by means best known to Himself, to frighten him from his criminal purpose. Yet what was I to do, when I was so pained and indignant, but at least speak my mind? Are they, indeed, to do such things and I be told to hold my peace? The Lord deliver me from such folly, that when, by His apostle, He commands me and says that those who teach what they ought not, ought to be rebuked b by the bishop, I should be silent from dread of their indignation. In wanting this heinous crime to find permanent record in the public registers, my intention surely was to prevent anyone, especially in other towns where I may have a chance to deplore these deeds, from imagining that I am inventing any detail, for even here in Hippo it is already being said that Proculianus c did not issue the order which the public officials have recorded as his.

What more temperate course could we pursue than to take action in a matter of such seriousness through you, a man invested with the most eminent rank and, at the same time, possessing great circumspection, goodwill and equanimity? So I beseech you, as I have already done by our brethren, good and honourable men, whom I sent to your Excellency, to have the kindness to inquire whether it was not this order of Proculianus recorded by the public officials that the priest Victor received from his bishop, or whether, since Victor himself has denied it, they have fathered a lie upon him in the public documents, although they belong to the same religious body. Otherwise, if he agrees that we should without heat discuss the whole question at issue between us to the end that the error, which is already clear, may be more clearly brought to light, I gladly embrace the opportunity. I have heard of his proposal that without any popular uproar we should examine what is true according to the Scriptures, in the presence of ten weighty and honourable men from each side. That alternative proposal, which some reported to me as his, that I should go to Constantine,a since his followers were more numerous there, or that I ought to go to Milevis,b because there, people say, they are going to hold a council soon, it is absurd to make, as if any particular charge concerned me except the church of Hippo. The whole issue of this inquiry lies between me and Proculianus above all, but if he considers himself unequal to it, let him implore the aid of any colleague of his that he chooses. For in other towns we deal with matters concerning the Church only so far as the bishops of those towns, our brethren and fellow-priests, allow us or enjoin upon us.

And yet, I do not quite see what he, who proclaims himself a bishop of such long standing, is afraid of in a novice such as I am, to shrink from a conference with me. If it is my learning in liberal studies,a in which he perhaps is uninstructed or less instructed than I am, what has this to do with an inquiry which is to be conducted about Holy Scripture and ecclesiastical or public records? In these he has so many years of experience, which should make him all the better equipped. In the last resort, my brother and colleague, Samsucius, bishop of the Church of Turres,b is here, and he has acquired no such learning as your man is said to be afraid of; let him come and conduct it with him. I shall ask him, and I trust in the name of Christ he will readily agree to undertake to be my substitute in this. Though he is without any grace of eloquence, yet he is learned in the true faith, and the Lord will help him, I feel sure, in his contest for the truth. There is then no reason why he should refer me to any others, instead of settling between ourselves a matter which concerns ourselves. But still, as I said before, I do not decline to meet those others, if he himself demands their aid.

Your letter has reached me, containing the good and gladdening news that you have not forgotten me but regard me with your customary affection, and that you take great pleasure in whatever gifts the Lord has deigned in His mercy, and not for my deserving, to bestow on me. It was gracious of your Holiness to write to me, and in your letter, my dear lord whom I cherish with reverence and very genuine devotion, I discerned once more that fatherly feeling for me which is no new or sudden refreshment to me from your generous heart, but a joy already experienced and appreciated.

The literary efforts I expended in the composing of some books have been well recompensed by your Grace's reading them. Surely that came from no other source than the Lord's desire (for my soul is subject to Him) to appease my anxieties and abate the fear that of necessity harassed me in such an undertaking, of stumbling, through my comparative inexperience and imprudence, even in the straight and level path of truth. For when my writings find favour with you, I know with whom it does find favour, for I know who it is that dwells in you: He who apportions and bestows all spiritual gifts has by your verdict ratified my obedience. For whatever my writings contained that merited your satisfaction, it was God who said Let it be done, and it was done, by me as His instrument, while in your approval it is the Lord who saw that it was good. a

If my own dullness has prevented me from grasping those problems you were good enough to bid me solve, still I could unravel them with your valued assistance. But I do beg you to intercede with God for me in my weakness, and not only to give the careful attention of a reader, but also to adopt the critical attitude of a reviewer, to any works of mine that happen to come into your holy hands, both those on which it was your kind and fatherly desire that I should try my hand, and any others. For I am fully conscious of God's gifts, and no less of my own mistakes.

In spirit I am well, so far as it is the Lord's good pleasure and as He deigns to grant me strength; in body, I am confined to bed. I can neither walk nor stand nor sit down because of the pain and swelling of piles or tumours. b Yet even so, since that is the Lord's good pleasure, what else should I say than that I am well? If we do not like what pleases Him, we ourselves are rather to assume the blame than to imagine that He is wrong in what He either does or allows. This is all familiar to you, but since you are my second self, what can I say to you with more pleasure than what I say to myself? To your holy prayers then I commend both my nights and my days; pray for me, that I may not squander my days and that I may endure my nights with patience; pray that even if I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, the Lord may be with me that I may fear no evil. c

You will have already heard, I am sure, of the death of the Senior Megalius a; as I write, it is almost twenty-four days since his body was laid to rest. Let me know, if possible, whether you have seen his successor in the primacy, as was your intention. We are not without our trials, yet not without our refuge; we are not without our sorrows, yet not without comfort either. And you are excellently well aware, my excellent brother, how carefully amid such vexations we must watch that no ill-feeling towards anyone takes possession of our inmost heart and prevents us from entering into our chamber, closing the door and praying to God,b and even closes the door against God Himself. Although no angry person thinks his own anger is unjustified, it grows upon him, and anger that becomes inveterate in this way passes into hatred,c since the pleasureableness that accompanies an apparently justified resentment keeps it longer in the vessel until the whole thing grows sour and spoils the vessel. For this reason it is much better to be angry with no one, even when it is justifiable, than from apparently justified anger to slip by the stealthy tendency of passion into hatred of anyone. We have a proverbial saying about welcoming unknown guests that it is much better to endure a bad man than through ignorance to risk shutting out a good one from fear of welcoming a bad one. But with our passions the opposite is true: for it is beyond comparison a more beneficial thing not to open the shrine of our heart at the knock of even justified anger than to yield it entrance; once in, it will not easily be expelled, and it will grow from a sapling to a sturdy tree, since it boldly and shamelessly develops at an even greater speed than people imagine, for it is not put to shame in the darkness, when the sun has gone down upon it. a You can at any rate bethink you of the care and anxiety with which I write this, if you bethink you of your remarks on a recent journey we made together.

Give my greetings to brother Severus b and his company. I should perhaps be writing to them too, if the bearer's haste allowed it. I want, however, to express my thanks through your Holiness to our brother Victor for letting me know when he was going to Constantine. c Please help me by asking him if he would mind making his return journey by Calama, as he promised me he would, because of that business he knows of; it is weighing very heavily on me, for the elder Nectarius d is very insistent about it. Good-bye.

Who could have expected or anticipated that I should be demanding by brother Severus the replies that you, my dear friends, have failed to send, though I have waited for them so long and so eagerly: What have I done, to be compelled to endure this thirst for news for two whole summers, and that too in Africa? What more shall I say? You are making daily distribution of what wealth you have—why not pay your debt to me r Can it be that you have so long postponed writing to me from the desire to finish and send the work which I had heard you were writing against devil-worshippers and which I had shown myself very anxious to peruse? I do hope that it will at least be a groaning table at which you eventually receive my hungry appetite, so long denied the products of your pen. But if as yet it be not set and ready, my complaints will give you no respite if, while your book is finishing, you still leave me famishing.

Greet the brethren, especially Romanus and Agilis. Those who are with me here greet you. If they are less exasperated than I am, it is because their affection for you is less than mine.

When we think of the peace that you enjoy in

Christ, we too, though harassed by manifold irksome tasks, find peace in your affection. For we are one body under one head, so that you share our occupation and we share your relaxation, since if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it, and if one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it. a So we exhort and beg and beseech you by Christ's profound humility and compassionate exaltation to remember us in your holy prayers; yours are, we are confident, more watchful and composed, for ours are often crippled and weakened by the gloom and bustle of worldly affairs. Not that we have any of our own, but those who compel us to go a mile and we are bidden to go with them other twain b impose so many burdens on us that we have scarcely time to draw our breath; yet we are confident that He before whom comes the sighing of the prisoner c will deliver us, by the help of your prayers, from every distress, while we endure in that ministry in which fie has pleased to place us with the promise of reward.

We exhort you in the Lord, brethren, to maintain your purpose and to persevere unto the end,d and if the Church, your mother, seeks any service from you. not to undertake it with eager elation nor to refuse it under the solicitation of indolence, but submit to God with lowly heart, suffering with meekness Him who governs you, who guides the meek in judgement and will teach them His ways. e And do not place your own ease before the Church's needs, for if no good men were willing to minister to her in her travail, you would find no means of being born yourselves. But just as a man must hold the path between fire and water if he would avoid either burning or drowning, so should we regulate our way between the peak of pride and the gulf of sloth, as it is written declining neither to the right hand nor to the left. a For there are some who, over-afraid of being snatched up and borne, as it were, to the right hand, slip and sink down upon the left; and there are some again who, while withdrawing too far from the left hand from fear of being engulfed in the slothful weakness of indolence, are corrupted and destroyed on the other side by the arrogance of boastfulness and vanish away into smoke and ashes. So then, beloved, do you love ease in such fashion as to restrain yourselves from every earthly delight, and remember that there is no spot free from a possible snare laid by him whose fear it is that we may take our flight back to God; let us reckon him whose prisoners we once were to be the foe of all good men, and bear in mind that there is no perfect rest for us until iniquity has ceased and judgement shall return unto righteousness. b

Likewise, when you do anything with vigour and fervour and are unweariedly labouring in prayer or in fasting or in almsgiving or bestowing something on the needy or forgiving injuries, as God also for Christ's sake hath forgiven us, c or subduing evil habits and chastening the body and bringing it into subjection, d or bearing tribulation and (before anything else) " bearing one another in love "—for what can he endure, who does not endure his brother?—or looking out for the craftiness and guile of the tempter and " with the shield of faith " averting and quenching his fiery darts, e or " singing and making melody to the Lord in your heart " f or with voices in harmony with your heart: do all to the glory of God,g who worketh all in all, h and be so " fervent in spirit " i that your soul may make her boast in the Lord. j For on the straight path that is the behaviour of those whose eyes are ever upon the Lord, for He shall pluck their feet out of the net. a Such behaviour is neither parched by business nor chilled by ease, neither boisterous nor enervated, neither reckless nor runaway, neither headstrong nor supine. These things do, and the God of peace shall be with you. b

Let your Charity not think me troublesome in wishing to have converse with you even by letter. I have given you these admonishments, not with the idea that you are failing to perform them, but in the belief that if what you do by His favour you do in remembrance of my exhortation, I have no slight commendation to God from you. For a good savour of Christ from your holy conduct had already reached me, first through rumour and now through the brethren, Eustasius and Andrew, who have come from you. Of these Eustasius has gone before us to that rest, which no waves beat upon as they do upon your island, nor does he long for Caprera, for in its hair-cloth he seeks no more his raiment. c

Earth quakes and the heavens shake at the most glaring criminality and shocking barbarity of your fiendish conduct, winch has made your streets and shrines run red with blood and resound with cries of murder. Among you the laws of Rome have been consigned to oblivion, the fear of righteous judgement has been trampled under foot, and for the Crown you have assuredly neither respect nor awe. Among you the innocent blood of exactly sixty Christian brethren has been spilt, and he who has the more murders to his credit has enjoyed various honours and been appointed to the chief post in your assembly. See now, let us come to the chief point. If you mention your Hercules, we shall straightway restore it to you; we have quarries at hand, and there is no lack of stone; there are in addition various kinds of marble and a sufficient supply of craftsmen. Moreover, your god will be chiseled, smoothed off and ornamented: we shall even add red ochre to paint the blush with which your holy prayers may be uttered. For if you say the Hercules is your own, we shall contribute a penny each and buy a god for you from your own craftsman. Restore then the souls that your ferocious hand has destroyed, and as we give back your Hercules, so do you restore these many souls.

Since we parted from each other in body, I have received no letter from your Holiness, but now I have read a letter of your Grace about Donatus and his brother. For a considerable time I could not settle what answer to make, but after repeated consideration of what would further the welfare of those whose nurture in Christ is the aim of our service, I could reach no other conclusion than this: we must not put God's servants in the way of thinking that the worse their behaviour, the easier their advancement to better posts. For it would only make backsliding easier for them and lay a quite undeserved slight on the regular clergy, if we selected for clerical service monks who had run away from their monastery, seeing that our usual practice is to select for adoption to the ranks of the clergy only those of higher merit and character from among the monks who stay on in their monastery. The common people say that a bad accompanist makes a good singer; do we want these same common people to laugh at us in the same way and say that a bad monk makes a good clergyman? It is a great pity if we encourage monks to such demoralizing pride and think fit to lay so serious a slight on the clergy, to whose ranks we ourselves belong. Sometimes even a good monk hardly makes a good clergyman, if he possesses sufficient self-control and yet has not the necessary education or the finish of a man who has gone through the normal training.

In the case we are discussing, your Holiness may,

I think, have assumed that it was with my consent that they abandoned monastic life for a more desirable sphere of service among the men of their own district. That, however, is not so; they left of their own accord, of their own accord they deserted their vocation, notwithstanding the most strenuous efforts I could make to oppose them, for their own best good. With Donatus, who has already managed to get himself ordained before we could decide anything in the Council a about this matter, just do in your wisdom as you will, if he happens to have been cured of his obstinate pride. But since you understand what I feel, I am at a loss what to say about his brother, for whose sake most of all Donatus himself left his monastery. Yet I do not presume to oppose one of your wisdom, rank and kindliness, and I do hope that you will do what you see to be beneficial for the members of the Church. Amen.

I greet your Honour with the respect due to your merits and earnestly commend myself to your prayers. I have to report to your Wisdom that a man by the name of Abundantius was ordained priest on the manor of Strabonian. c which belongs to my diocese, but, as he did not walk in the paths of God's servants, he began to acquire a bad reputation. This alarmed me, but yet I did not lightly give it any credence; yet, my worry clearly increasing, I made an effort to reach, if it were at all possible, some incontrovertible proofs of his evil conduct. And my first discovery was that he had embezzled money belonging to a certain countryman, entrusted to him for religious purposes, and could give no satisfactory account of it. The next charge proved against him and admitted by himself was that, on the fast-day of Christmas, when the church of Gippi was fasting like all the others, he took leave of his colleague, the priest of Gippi, about 11 o'clock in the day, on the pretext of departing for his own church; and although he had no clergyman with him, he remained in the same manor and dined and supped and stayed in the same house with a woman of ill fame. But one of our clergy of Hippo was already living from home in the local inn, and since Abundantius was very well aware of this, he could not deny the charge, but a what he did deny I left to God, passing sentence upon the facts he was not allowed to conceal. I was afraid to trust him with a church, especially one situated in the very midst of frenzied and snarling heretics. And when he asked me to give him letters explaining his case to the priest of the manor of Armenian in the district of Bulla,b from which he had come to us, so that no worse suspicion might be conceived against him and that there he might live, if possible, a reformed life with no duties as a priest, I was moved by pity to do so. But it was my duty to report these facts particularly to your Wisdom, lest any misrepresentation be practised upon you.

I heard his case one hundred days before Easter

Sunday, which will fall on the 6th April. This fact I have been careful to mention to your Reverence because of the Council, and I have not concealed it from him either, but have revealed to him exactly what was decided. And if he thinks fit to take some action and fails to present his case within a year, let no one thereafter hearken to his plea. But for my part, my saintly lord and reverently cherished father, if I thought that these evidences of evil conduct on the part of the clergy, especially when a bad reputation has begun to attend them, deserved no punishment except in the manner prescribed by the Council, I should now be compelled to agree to the discussion of things that cannot be ascertained, and either to condemn things that are unproved or to pass over things that are really unknown. For my own part, at any rate, I have decided that a priest who, on a fast-day which was actually being observed by the local church, took leave of his colleague, the local priest, dared to stay, unaccompanied by a clergyman, with a woman of ill fame, to dine and sup and sleep in the same house, ought to be deposed from the office of priest, since I was afraid thereafter to entrust to his care a church of God. If the ecclesiastical judges happen to take a different view, because the Council decreed that six bishops should pronounce the final verdict in a case affecting a priest, let who will entrust him with a church situated within his own jurisdiction; personally, I confess my own fear of entrusting any congregation to people of that kind, especially when they have no good reputation to urge in defence as a reason for condoning this delinquency; otherwise, if any more heinous disorder broke out, I should with pain feel responsible for it myself.

You should have feared God at least, but since it was your desire to be feared like a man in your re-baptizing of the Mappalians, why is a royal command of no avail in the province, if a provincial command has been of such avail on a private property? If you compare the persons concerned, you are the possessor, he is emperor; if you compare the positions of both, you are on an estate, he is on a throne; if you compare the motives of both, he aims at mending what is rent, you at rending what is one whole. But we are not seeking to make you afraid of a man, for we could make you pay up ten pounds of gold, according to the imperial decrees. Or perhaps you have no money with which to pay the fine imposed on those who re-baptize, after your great expenses in bribing people to accept re-baptism? But, as I said, we are not seeking to make you afraid of a man; let Christ rather make you afraid. I want to know what answer you would make to Him, if He were to say to you: Crispinus, was it a high price you paid for the fear of the Mappalians, and was my death a small price to pay for the love of all the nations? Was the money that was counted out from your purse of greater value for the re-baptizing of your serfs than the blood which flowed from my side for the baptizing of my nations? I know that if you were to give ear to Christ, you could hear more such questions and be warned by your very property how impious are the words you and your like speak against Christ. For if you reckon that by human law you have a sure title to what you have bought with your own money, how much surer by divine law is Christ's title to what He has bought with His own blood! And yet He will have an unshakable title to everything, for it is written of Him: He shall have dominion from sea to sea and from the river unto the ends of the earth. a But how do you expect with any assurance that you will not lose what you think you have bought in Africa, when you assert that Christ has lost the whole world and has been left for Africa alone?

But why multiply words? If it was of their own free will that the Mappalians went over to your communion, let them hear us both, our statements being written down and, after being attested by our signatures, translated into Punic for them; and without any fear of intimidation let them choose what they want. For from what we say it will be made clear whether they are abiding in falsehood from compulsion or are holding fast the truth of their own choice. For if they do not understand what is involved, how had you the boldness to take them over to your side with no understanding of the points at issue? But if they do understand, let them, as I said, hear us both and do as they wish. Further, if there are any congregations who have come over to us and whom you believe to have done so under compulsion from their overlords, let the same course be followed there too: let them hear us both and choose what they please. But if you are unwilling to do this, who can fail to see that your party has no confidence in the truth? Yet you must beware of the wrath of God both here and hereafter. I adjure you by Christ to reply to what I have written.

I have heard that my letter has safely reached you, but I would by no means make it a charge against your affection that as yet I have not been favoured with a reply; no doubt something has come in your way. So I recognize that I must rather beseech the Lord to provide the opportunity of carrying out your intention to send the answer you have written, since He has already provided that of writing it, for you can very easily do so when you feel so disposed.

Further, I have hesitated whether indeed to give credence to a report which has reached me, but it is my duty not to hesitate about writing something to you concerning it as well. Briefly, this is the point: I have been told that certain brethren have hinted to your Charity that I wrote a book against you and sent it to Rome. Rest assured that this statement is untrue: I call our God to witness that this I have not done. But if some remarks happen to be found in some of my writings, in which I am found taking a different view from you on any point, I think you ought to know, or if you have no means of knowing, to believe, that what I have written is not directed against you, but is an expression of my own opinion. And indeed, in so saying, I not only profess myself quite prepared to accept in a brotherly spirit any objections you conceive to whatever you disapprove of in my writings and to feel glad either at having my faults corrected or at such evidence of your goodwill; I even demand and claim it as a right.

O that it were possible to enjoy sweet and frequent converse in the Lord with you; if not by living with you, at least by living near you! But since that is denied us, I beg you to do your best to maintain and increase and perfect this one object, that we should be together, as far as we can, in Christ, and not to disdain replying to me, even if it be only occasionally.

Greet with my respects your saintly brother Paulinianus a and all the brethren who rejoice in the Lord with you and because of you. May you, remembering us, be heard by the Lord in all your holy desires, beloved lord and much desired and honoured brother in Christ.

The sorrow of the church at Thiava b prevents my heart from being at rest until I hear that they have been brought back to the same disposition towards you as before, and that must be done quickly. For if the Apostle was so much concerned about one individual when he said, Lest such a one should be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow, a adding there the words, Lest Satan should get an advantage of us; for we are not ignorant of his devices, b it much more becomes us to act with circumspection so that we may not have the same thing to lament in a whole flock, and especially in those who have but recently come over to the peace of the Catholic Church, and whom I can in no wise abandon. But as the shortness of time did not allow us any opportunity to take careful counsel together on the matter and to clarify our opinions, may it please your Holiness to accept the decision I have reached after lengthy consideration since we parted, and, if you decide likewise, let the letter I have written them in our common name be dispatched to them without delay.

Your proposal was that they should have the one half and that I should make up the other half to them from some other source. But it is my opinion that if they were deprived of the whole property, it might reasonably be said that we had so greatly exerted ourselves not for the sake of the money, but for the sake of justice. But when we yield them a half and on those terms arrange at some time a settlement with them, it will look pretty obvious that we were interested in only the financial aspect, and you see what a pernicious result would follow. For on one hand we shall be regarded by them as having taken one half to which we had no right, and they on the other will be regarded by us as having unfairly and dishonourably agreed to accept help from a half which belonged entirely to the poor. For your remark that we must beware, while endeavouring to settle a doubtful matter, of causing more serious wounds, will have as much force if they be granted a half. For because of this half, those whose conversion to monastic life we wish to encourage will find excuses for delaying and putting off the sale of their own property so as to be dealt with under this precedent. Moreover, is it surprising that by this doubtful matter the whole Christian community is so much offended when they imagine their bishops, whom they honour so highly, to be smitten with sordid avarice, so long as they do not avoid the appearance of evil?

For when a man turns to monastic life and does so in a genuine spirit, he does not think of that, especially when he has been warned of the great sinfulness of such conduct. But if he is a deceiver and is seeking his own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's, a he certainly is without charity, and what does it profit him, if he bestow all his goods upon the poor and give his body to be burned b? Further, as we already agreed together, that difficulty may be avoided for the future, and an arrangement made with any individual who is turning monk, that he cannot be admitted to the society of the brethren before he has rid himself of all those encumbrances and throws off his life of ease, his property having now ceased to belong to him. There is, indeed, no other possible way of avoiding this spiritual death of weak brethren and this grievous obstacle to the salvation of those for the winning of whom to the peace of Catholicism we so strenuously labour, unless by giving them very clearly to under- stand that we are in no way concerned about money in such cases; and this they will not understand unless we leave for their use the property which they always supposed to belong to their priest, because, if it did not belong to him, they ought to have known this from the beginning.

It seems to me, therefore, that in matters of this kind we should abide by this rule, that whatever belonged by the law of possession to one who is ordained to be the clergyman of any place, is the appurtenance of that church over which he was ordained. Now, by the same law, the property in question so far belonged to the priest Honoratus that, had he still been, when he died, in the monastery of Tagaste, instead of being ordained to another post, and had neither sold his property nor transferred it to any other by an express deed of gift, no one but his heirs would have succeeded to it, just as brother Aemilianus succeeded to the thirty shillings left by brother Privatus. These precautions must then be taken beforehand, but if they have not been taken, we should in their case comply with those laws which were drawn up to regulate the possession or the disposal of property according to civil society, so that we may avoid as far as possible not only all reality, but even all appearance of evil,a and retain the untarnished reputation which is so necessary to our office as executors. And just how evil this appearance is, let your holy Wisdom observe. After hearing of their disappointment, which we fully realized, from fear that I might perchance be mistaken (as usually happens when I incline with the more partiality to my own opinion), I stated the case to our brother and colleague, Samsucius, without telling him at the time what I have now decided, but rather adding what we had both decided when we were resisting their claims. He was very much shocked and marvelled that we had so decided, and what disturbed him was nothing else than this very appearance of foul dealing, very unworthy not only of our life and character, but of anyone's.

I beseech you, therefore, not to postpone signing and sending the letter I have written them in our common name. And if from it you very clearly realize that this course is just, let not those who are weak be compelled now to learn what I myself do not yet understand, so that in this affair we may observe towards them this saying of the Lord's: I have many things to say to you, but ye cannot bear them now. a For He had compassion on such weakness and made the further remark about the payment of tribute: Then are the children free; notwithstanding, lest we offend them, b and so on, when He sent Peter to pay the half-shekel that was at that time exacted. He was acquainted with another law by which He had no such obligation, but Peter paid tribute for Him in accordance with that same law by which, as I have already said, the heir of the priest Honoratus would have succeeded, if he had died before either giving away or selling his property. And yet. under the law of the Church itself, Paul the Apostle had compassion on the weak and did not exact the subsidy due to himself,c though quite convinced in his own mind that he had every right to exact it, but with no other intention than to escape the suspicion which would spoil the sweet savour of Christ and to defend himself from that appearance of evil in those districts where he knew that such was his duty and in fact before he had experienced men's disappointment. But now, though we are somewhat behindhand, let us even profit by our experience and put right what we ought beforehand to have guarded against.

Finally, since I am completely a prey to fear and recall the proposal you made when we parted, that the brethren at Tagaste should hold me responsible for the half of the sum named, if you clearly view this proposal as fair, I do not reject it, but on this condition, that I pay the amount when I have it, that is. when so great a sum falls to our monastery at Hippo that it may be done without unduly straitening us, so that, after subtracting the large amount owing them, our people may acquire no less than an equal share in proportion to the number of resident brethren.

I myself feel how hard-hearted I must appear, and I can scarcely excuse myself for not sending and lending to your Holiness my son the deacon Lucilius, your brother. But when you yourself begin to surrender some of the very dearest and sweetest of those you have nurtured to the needs of churches situated far from you, then you will understand the pangs of regret that stab me at losing the bodily com- panionship of individuals united to me in the closest and most pleasing intimacy. For, to leave the fact of your kinship quite out of account, the blood-bond between you may be as strong as you please, vet it is not superior to the bond of friendship that binds brother Severus and me so closely to each other; and yet you know how seldom I have the happiness of seeing him. And it is not my wish or his that is responsible for this, but the fact that the claims of our mother, the Church, having regard to the world to come, in which we shall live together and never part, are more important than the claims of our own time. Out of consideration, therefore, for the welfare of that same mother, the Church, you ought with all the greater equanimity to endure the absence of the brother with whom you have not been browsing upon the food of the Lord as long as I did with my delightful fellow-townsman. Severus,a who yet holds converse with me now with difficulty and at intervals by means of meagre letters, and those indeed packed, for the most part, with other cares and concerns instead of bringing any evidence of our wanderings in the sweet meadows of Christ.

At this point you may perhaps reply, What then? Here too, beside me, will my brother not be of service to the Church, or is it for any other reason that I want to have him with me? Certainly, if his being with you seemed as profitable for the winning and directing of the Lord's flock as it is here to me, there is no one who would not justly blame—I shall not call it my hard-heartedness, but my unfairness. But since he is familiar with a language b the lack of which in our territories greatly hinders the administration of the Gospel, while where you are the same language is in general use, do you think it is our duty so to provide, for the welfare of the Lord's people that we send this ability to you and deprive ourselves of it here, where our need of it is so great and so heart-felt? Forgive me. then, for doing, not only in spite of your desire but also in spite of my own feelings, what my zeal for the office with which I am burdened compels me to do. The Lord, upon whom you have staved your heart, will make your labours such that you will be rewarded for this kind service; for it is kind of you to surrender the deacon Lucilius to the thirsty eagerness of our territories rather than claim him for yourself. And it will be no small favour if you will refrain from laying upon me any request concerning this matter in the future, so that I may not appear to your revered and holy Benevolence to be only too hard-hearted.

The purity of your administration and your virtuous reputation, as well as the praiseworthy zeal and genuine sincerity of your Christian devotion—gifts of God that you rejoice to have bestowed upon you by Him whose promise makes you hope for still better things—have stimulated me to share with your

Excellency by means of this epistolary converse the anxieties arising from my controversies. For in proportion as we have been gladdened by the surprising success of your measures in favour of catholic unity throughout the other parts of Africa, so do we regret, my distinguished lord and son truly and deservedly honoured and cherished in Christ's love, that the district of Hippo Regius and the territories adjoining it on the borders of Numidia have not yet been honoured with the vigorous support of your edict as governor. I have thought it better to mention this fact to your Excellency, so that it may not be attributed rather to negligence on my part, since I bear the burden of episcopal office at Hippo. If you condescend to ascertain from my brethren and colleagues, who are in a position to recount the facts to your Highness, or from the priest whom I am sending with this letter, how far the heretics have had the boldness and effrontery to go in this same region of Hippo. I am confident you will, with the help of the Lord our God, take steps to have this puffed-up irreverence and conceit healed by methods tending to discourage it rather than cut away by measures that are purely retaliatory.

I find it admirable but not surprising that, though age is beginning to chill your limbs, your heart still glows with patriotic zeal, and I am not sorry, but rather delighted, to learn that you do not merely remember the maxim that to good men there is no limit or end of devotion to their country, but actually exemplify it in your life and character. That is why we should like to have you enrolled in person as a citizen of a country which is above, in holy love for which we endure perils and toil, as far as in us lies, among those whose good we seek in urging them to make that country their own—and such a citizen that you would think there should be no limit or end to devotion to that fragment of it which is on pilgrimage in this land. So would you become a better man in proportion as you discharged here and now the duties due to that better country, in whose eternal peace you will find no end to rejoicing, if you prescribe for yourself no end to the devotion you bestow upon its temporal tasks.

But until you do so—for we must not surrender the hope that it is in your power to gain, or that even already you must be wisely thinking how you should gain that country to which your own father, who begot you here, has gone before you—until you do so. you must forgive us if for the sake of our country, which we have no desire ever to leave, we inflict distress upon your country, which you desire to leave in the full flower of prosperity. Yet if I were to hold a discussion with your Wisdom about its flowering, I have every confidence that you would not be difficult to convince, or rather that you would easily discover for yourself, in what way a country ought to flower. That poet who enjoys the most renown in your literature has commemorated certain flowers of Italy a; but in that country of yours we have experienced not so much " with what men it has flowered " as with what arms it has blazed, nay rather, not arms, but fires, and not blazed, but set on fire. If the heinous offence before us were left unpunished with no adequate chastisement of the miscreants, do you think that you would leave your country in full flower? Flowers indeed, but promising thorns, certainly not fruit! Just make the comparison and see whether you prefer your country to flower by practising piety or by escaping punishment, by the discipline of character or by the protection of violence; make the comparison and see whether in love for your country you outdo us, whether your desire to behold it in full flower is greater and more genuine than ours.

Look for a moment at those very books On the State a from which you imbibed that sentiment of a loyal subject, that to good men there is no limit or end of devotion to their country. Look at them, I pray you, and notice the praise with which frugality and self-control are extolled, and fidelity to the marriage-bond, and chaste, honourable, and upright character. When a country is distinguished for these qualities, it may truly be said to be in full flower. Now, it is in the churches that are springing up throughout the world, in the sacred lecture-rooms, one might say, of the nations, that these moral qualities are being taught and learned, and most especially the piety with which worship is paid to the true and truthful God, Who not only commands men to undertake, but also gives them the power to perform, all those things by which the human spirit is trained and fitted for fellowship with God and for dwelling in the everlasting heavenly country. It is for that reason that He predicted the future overthrow of the images of the many false gods and enjoined that that overthrow should begin now. a For there is nothing that makes men so unsuited for fellowship by reason of their depraved lives as does the imitation of those gods, such as they are described and commended by pagan literature.

In short, those learned men who in private discussion sought after and even portrayed what seemed to them the model republic and earthly state instead of bringing it into being and giving it shape by public service, usually put forward as examples for the training of the youthful character those men they deemed famous and praiseworthy rather than their own gods. And, in fact, that young man in Terence b who, on gazing upon a painted wall-panel which represented the adultery of the king of the gods, felt fuel added to the fire of passion that was consuming him by the encouragement given by an authority so eminent, would certainly not have fallen into that sin through desire nor have been overcome by it through bringing it to pass, if he had chosen Cato as his model rather than Jove. But how could he do that when in the temples he was compelled to reverence Jove instead of Cato? And yet perhaps I should not put forward these scenes from comedy to confute the wantonness and the sacrilegious superstition of the ungodly. Read or recall how carefully it is argued in those same books that the writing or acting of comedies could by no means have received public approbation if they had not harmonized with the character of those who approved of them. So the authority of the most outstanding men, both those who are prominent in the State and those who discuss the nature of the State, establishes our point that by imitating the gods—not, to be sure, true gods, but false and fabricated gods—the most depraved of men become still worse.

But it may be objected that all those ancient tales about the life and character of the gods are to be understood and interpreted far differently by men of wisdom. Thus, in fact, we heard just the other day harmless interpretations of this kind read to the people gathered in the temples. a Tell me, is the human race so blind to truth as not to perceive facts so evident and open? In so many places Jove is exhibited committing his numerous adulteries by painters, founders, smiths, sculptors, writers, reciters, actors, singers and dancers; what was the use of reciting, in his own Capitol at any rate, decrees forbidding such sins? If, with no one to forbid them, these foul deeds that are the culmination of turpitude and ungodliness are enthusiastically acclaimed by the people, worshipped in the temples, applauded in the theatres b; if, when victims are sacrificed to their perpetrators, even the poor are despoiled of their flock, and when actors represent them in dance and action, the rich lavish their fortunes on them—are countries to be described as in flower? Such flowers as these certainly do not owe their birth to fruitful soil or to any bounteous virtue; they have found a worthy parent in that goddess Flora,c whose theatrical games are celebrated with such unusually abandoned and shameless vileness that anyone may understand what is the nature of a divinity that cannot be conciliated unless there perish as victims on her altars not birds or beasts or even human bodies, but (a much viler scandal) human modesty and shame.

I have spoken of these things because of the statement in your letter that the nearer you come to the end of your life, the more strongly you desire to leave your country in sound condition and full flower. Take away all those frivolous and unwholesome practices and let men turn to the genuine worship of God and to purity and godliness of character, then you will see your country in full flower, not in the empty opinion of the foolish, but in the sober judgement of the wise, when this country that gave you birth after the flesh has become a part of that country to which we are born not by the body, but by faith. There, after the wintry labours of this life, all God's saints and faithful people will flower in an endless eternity. Therefore is it our dear desire neither to put away Christian meekness nor to leave your country as a baleful example for others to follow. In our attempt to realize this hope, God will be at hand to help, provided He be not too grievously wroth with them. Otherwise both the meekness that we desire to preserve and the punishment that it is our aim to impose in moderation may be arrested, if God in His hidden wisdom ordaineth differently, whether He appoint that this immeasurable evil be punished with a keener chastisement, or whether, should the guilty fail to repent and to turn to Him, He shall will in still more vehement wrath to leave it in this world unpunished.

Your Wisdom lays down for me certain principles for the conduct of my episcopal office and pleads that your native place has been brought to a serious pass by a grave misdemeanour on the part of its in- habitants. Should we estimate it by the severity of the public law. it deserves to be punished with a harsher sentence, but a bishop "—you say—" may not do aught but contribute to men's welfare, and attend court a to improve conditions there, and win before Almighty God pardon for other men's sins. It is certainly our endeavour to secure greater mercy, either from ourselves or from any other through our intercession, in the sentencing of those who are punished, and it is our desire to contribute to men's welfare. But that welfare consists in the happiness that comes from righteous living, not in the impunity that may attend evil-doing. And as for pardon, we earnestly endeavour to win it not merely for our own sins, but for those of others as well, but we certainly cannot obtain it except for those who have repented. You go on then to say, I entreat you with all possible urgency not to prosecute the guiltless, if the matter must come to a prosecution, but to ward off any trouble from the innocent.

Let me briefly remind you of the offence, then draw the distinction for yourself between the innocent and the guilty. In defiance of quite recent legislation a sacrilegious celebration was held on the first of June, a pagan feast-day, with no prohibition from anyone and with such insolent effrontery that an impudent crowd of dancers actually passed along the same street in front of the church-doors—a thing that never happened even in Julian's time. When the clergy attempted to stop this most illegal and insulting procedure, the church was stoned. Then, almost a week later, when the bishop had drawn the attention of the magistrates to the well-known laws on the subject, and they were, to all intents and purposes, preparing to put the legal prescriptions into effect, the church was stoned again. Next day, when our people wanted to lodge a complaint in court, with the object, apparently, of inspiring those abandoned characters with fear, their rights were denied them, and on the very same day, to see if menaces from heaven might not dismay them, their stonings were answered by a shower of hail: but when it was over, they immediately cast another shower of stones and finally fire upon the roofs of the church and the people within. One servant of God who was wandering about and may have run into them, they put to death, the others partly taking shelter wherever they could, partly escaping wherever they could. In the meantime the bishop was hiding in a certain spot into which he had thrust himself to lie all cramped, and from which he kept hearing the voices of those who were seeking him to put him to death and were reproaching themselves for letting him escape and so for perpetrating such a heinous crime to no effect. This went on from almost four o'clock until a late hour of night. No attempt at repression, no attempt at rescue was made by any of those who could have exercised some weight of authority. Only one person interfered, a stranger, by whom a considerable number of God's servants were delivered from the hands of those who were seeking to slay them, and much property as well was recovered from looters. His example made it clear how easily those outrages might have been wholly prevented, or have been arrested if they had actually begun, provided only that the inhabitants and, most of all, the leading citizens had forbidden them, either from the very first or after they had started.

Accordingly you will hardly be able to draw a distinction in the whole community between the innocent and the guilty, but only perhaps between the less guilty and the more guilty. For slight is the sin of those who were deterred by fear (and especially by fear of offending those known to them to be men of great influence in the town and hostile towards the Church) from venturing to give any assistance; but all are guilty who, although not participating or instigating, were consenting to the outrage; more guilty are those who perpetrated it, and most guilty of all are those who instigated it. Let us assume that we have only suspicions who these instigators were, and no certain knowledge, and let us refrain from discussing facts which simply cannot be ascertained without the torturing of the witnesses. Let us, too. make allowance for the fear felt by those who thought it better to pray to God for the bishop and God's servants than to give offence to influential enemies of the Church. What about those who remain? Do you give it as your opinion that they should escape all punishment and censure? And do you think we should set the example of leaving so barbarous an outrage unpunished? We have no desire to gratify our anger by exacting retribution for past offences, but we are concerned to provide for the future in a spirit of compassion. Evil men have certain points in which they can be punished by Christians not only in gentleness, but also with profit and improvement to themselves. They have the life and health of the body; they have the means of sustaining that life;

they have the means of living a wicked life. Let the first two be untouched so that there may be some who repent; this is our prayer, this, as far as in us lies, we spare no effort to secure. But for the third, if it be God's will to take it away like some foul and virulent growth, He will inflict punishment in great compassion; but if it be His will to go farther and to allow not even this, the reason for this higher and certainly more just design rests with Himself. Our duty is to devote our zeal and efforts, according to the light that is granted us, to praying God for His approval of our intention to promote the welfare of all and to let nothing be done through us that is not for the good both of ourselves and of the Church; for He knows that much better than we do.

Recently when I was at Calama with the purpose of consoling the distress, or else appeasing the indignation, of our people in their grievous sorrow, I used all my influence with the Christians to bring about what I thought was at the moment expedient. Then when the pagans themselves, the fount and cause of this great outrage, besought me for an interview, I received them, with the object of advising them on this occasion of the course of action that they ought to pursue if they were wise, not only to banish the present anxiety but also to seek for everlasting salvation. They listened to many things that I said, and even made many petitions themselves; but far be it from me to be such a servant as to take delight in petitions by those who make no petitions to my Master. So with your quick mind you will clearly see that, while preserving our meekness and Christian moderation, we must direct our efforts either to deterring others from imitating their ob- stinacy or to praying that others may imitate their repentance. The losses that were inflicted are either being borne by Christians or are being made good by Christians. As for the gain of souls, which we long to secure even at the peril of our own body, we hope that your district will furnish an unusually precious harvest and that other districts will not be kept back by that example. May God in His mercy grant us to rejoice over your salvation!

As soon as we heard of your well-deserved promotion, although the report that reached us was still very indefinite, we were confident that your attitude towards the Church of God, of which we rejoice that you are truly a son, is no other than what you have now revealed in your letter. Nevertheless, I write to you, my excellent and justly distinguished lord and son worthy of much honour in the love of Christ, with all the greater confidence after reading that letter in which of your own accord you deigned to send us, even if we were hesitant and backward, a very kind invitation to use our humble efforts to point out to you how, through your pious obedience, the Lord, by whose gift you have become what you are. may at this juncture come to the assistance of His Church.

And indeed, many of the brethren, my holy colleagues, have by reason of the Church's serious troubles started out almost as fugitives for the imperial court; you may have seen them or by some fortunate encounter have received a letter of theirs from Home. But for my part, although I was unable to talk over any plans with them, I could not miss the opportunity provided by this brother and fellow-priest of mine, who is driven by the urgent peril of a fellow-citizen to make the journey as best he can, even though it is mid-winter, to your part of the world, of greeting and exhorting you by that affection you have in Christ Jesus our Lord, to hasten on your good work with the most pressing attention. So shall the enemies of the Church know that those laws about the demolition of idols and the correction of heretics, which were sent to Africa while Stilicho a was still alive, were drawn up at the desire of our most godly and faithful emperor. They deceitfully allege or fondly imagine that this action was taken without his knowledge or against his will, and thus they incite the mind of the ignorant to the utmost pitch of violence and to a vehemence of hostility that is fraught with peril to us.

But I am quite sure that in submitting this petition or suggestion for your Eminence's consideration, I am acting agreeably to the desire of all my colleagues throughout Africa. My opinion is that steps very easily could and should be taken at the first opportunity that arises to let those vain men, whose welfare we seek even though they are our opponents, know, as I said already, that it was due to the care of Theodosius's son a rather than of Stilicho that the laws that were sent to Africa for the Church of Christ were sent at all. For this reason, then, the above-mentioned priest, the bearer of this letter, being from the district of Mileve, was ordered by his bishop, my revered brother Severus,b who joins me in sending hearty greetings to your genuine affection, to pass through Hippo Regius, where I am stationed, because, as we happened to be together in the great tribulations and anxieties of the Church, we were seeking an opportunity of writing to your Excellency and found none. I have already sent one letter about the business of my holy brother and colleague, Boniface,c the bishop of Cataquas, but this more serious news had not yet reached us to trouble us more keenly. As to the way in which you may come to our assistance in suppressing and punishing those offences with a wiser plan according to the method of Christ, that will more suitably form the subject of negotiation between the bishops who have made the voyage with that end in view, and yourself in your great and heartfelt benevolence. They have been able to bring with them some scheme that has been carefully thought out in mutual consultation, as far as the shortness of time allowed. But this other point, how to let the province know the attitude of our most gracious and godly sovereign towards the Church, should on no account be post- poned; I recommend, beg, beseech, implore you to hurry it on, even before you see the bishops who are on their way, as soon as is possible for you in your most earnest watchfulness for the members of Christ who are undergoing this very heavy trial. Amid these evils the Lord has given us no small comfort by being pleased to extend your sphere of influence much beyond what it was before, for even then we were rejoicing in the number and magnitude of your good works.

We have indeed much cause for rejoicing in the firm and steadfast faith of some, and they are not a few, who were converted to the Christian religion and to Catholic peace by the opportuneness of those laws; for their eternal welfare we are glad even to risk our temporal welfare. For on this account we are enduring more violent outbreaks of hostility especially from men of excessive and obdurate perversity; and these some of the converts endure most patiently with us. But we have very great fears for their weakness until by the help of the Lords compassionate favour they acquire the wisdom and the strength to despise the present age and the day of men a with sturdier and stouter spirit. The letter of instructions I am sending with this for my brother-bishops will your Excellency hand to them when they arrive, if. as I imagine, they have not yet come? Such confidence we place in your most unfeigned devotion that with the help of the Lord our God we wish to have you not only bestow assistance, but also take a share in our counsels.

Three letters from your Grace have reached me up to the moment of my writing this reply; the first still demanded a letter from me, the second intimated that you had by then received it, and the third contained the assurance of your most kind solicitude on my behalf, especially in the matter of the house belonging to that illustrious and distinguished young man, Julian, which adjoins my own walls. On receiving it I lost no time in replying promptly, since your Excellency's agent wrote that he was in a position to send to Rome at an early date. His letter caused me grievous disappointment, in that he did not take the trouble to let me know what is happening in and around Rome, so that we might know for certain what we were reluctant to believe on uncertain rumour. The letters of the brethren that were sent to us before his, conveyed news that was vexatious and affecting enough, but still none too serious, but I was more surprised than I can tell you that my brethren, the holy bishops, did not seize such an excellent opportunity to write to me as that provided by your bearers, and that your letters gave me no news at all about the great trials that you are passing through, though they are ours too by reason of our heart-felt affection. But perhaps you decided not to mention them, because you thought it would do no good or because you did not want your letter to sadden me. It does do some good, in my humble opinion, to know even sad news, first because it is unfair to be willing to rejoice with them that do rejoice and to be unwilling to weep with them that weep, a and then because tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope; and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us. b

Far be it from us. then, to refuse to hear even the bitter and sorrowful things that befall those who are very dear to us. For somehow or other what one member suffers is mitigated if the other members suffer with it. c But this mitigation of affliction is effected not by participation in the calamity but by the consolation love provides, and so, although some bear the actual burden of sorrow and others share the burden with sympathetic understanding, the tribulation is yet common to both, since they have in common the same experience, the same hope, the same love and the same spirit. But all of us alike have the consolation of the Lord, who both foretold these temporal afflictions and promised eternal blessings after them. And he who after the battle would receive the crown ought not to be broken in spirit while the battle is on, for He Who prepares unspeakable gifts for the victors ministers strength to them when they are engaged in the conflict.

Do not let that reply of mine take away your confidence in writing to me, especially since you have had a quite acceptable excuse for soothing my fears. I return the greetings of your little ones and pray that they may grow up for you in Christ.

Already, young as they are, they perceive how dangerous and harmful is the love of the present world. And would that, when the tall and sturdy things are shaken, the lowly and yielding may receive correction! What shall I say about that house, except to thank you for your very generous thought? For the house I can give they do not wish, and the one they wish, I cannot give, since it was not left to the Church by my predecessor, as they were wrongly informed, but is held among its ancient properties and adjoins the one ancient church just as the one now under consideration adjoins the other. a

I should wish indeed that the African Church were not placed in such afflictions as to require the aid of any earthly power, but since, as the Apostle says, there is no power but of God, c it is true that when you, a very whole-hearted son of our Catholic Mother, come to her aid, our help is in the name of the Lord, Who made heaven and earth. d For amid such grievous afflictions who does not realize, my excellent lord, worthy of all honour, and eminently praiseworthy son, that no small consolation has been sent us from heaven, when a man of your character and great devotion to the name of Christ has been raised to the dignity of proconsul, so that your power seconded by your goodwill may restrain the enemies of the Church from their criminal and sacrilegious violence? In short, there is only one thing that we fear in your administration of justice, namely, that perhaps, since whatever evil impious and irreverent men commit against the Christian community is surely more serious and more heinous than if the same evil were committed against others, you personally may decide to administer punishment in proportion to the enormity of the offence instead of in accordance with regard for Christian gentleness. We beseech you for Jesus' sake to refrain from doing so. For we exact no vengeance from our enemies on this earth, nor indeed should our sufferings drive us to such mental straits that we forget the injunctions of Him for Whose truth and name we suffer; we love our enemies and pray for them. a So, in availing ourselves of the terror of judges and laws, we desire their repentance, not their death, so that they may be saved from falling into the penalties of the eternal judgement. We do not wish to see them quite absolved from punishment, nor, on the other hand, visited with the torments they deserve. Check their sins, therefore, in such a way as to produce repentance in at least a few.

I beg you then, when you are trying cases concerning the Church, however outrageous the injuries with which you discover it has been assailed or distressed, to forget that you possess the power of life and death, but not to forget my entreaty. And do not think it an unimportant or contemptible thing, my honoured and well-beloved son, that I ask you to spare the lives of men whom we pray God to bring to repentance. Even setting aside the fact that we ought not to depart from the eternal principle of overcoming evil with good,a let your Wisdom take this other fact into account, that no one takes the trouble to bring Church cases before you, except churchmen themselves. So if in such cases you think fit to put men to death, you will deter us from having any such cases brought before your tribunal; and when our opponents ascertain this, they will proceed with all the more unrestrained effrontery to destroy us, when the necessity is laid upon us of choosing rather to die at their hands than to hale them before your tribunal to suffer death themselves. Do not receive with contempt, I beg you, this exhortation, this request, this entreaty of mine. For I do not think that you will forget that, even if you were in a much more exalted position than the one you now occupy, and even were I not a bishop, I might still have had great confidence in addressing you. Meanwhile, let the heretical Donatists quickly learn by your Excellency's edicts that the laws passed against their error are still in force, though they now think that they are of no effect, and boast that, not even if they were, could they to any extent spare us. But you will very greatly assist our labours and perils to bear fruit, if you strive to repress by the imperial laws that sect of theirs which is so flaunting and so full of impious pride, in such a way that they do not appear to themselves or their supporters to be enduring hardships, no matter how slight, for the sake of truth and righteousness; but allow them, when this is requested from you, to be convinced and instructed by the incontrovertible evidence of clearly ascertained facts either in your Excellency's own court or in that of inferior judges, to the end that those who are arrested at your command may themselves bend their stubborn will, if it can be bent at all. to the better side and profitably read those proofs to others. For the effort to make men abandon even a great evil and cleave to a great good produces more trouble than benefit, if they act merely under compulsion and not from conviction.

I should not now write any letter to your holy

Charity without sending those books that you demanded from me by the most urgent right of holy affection, that by this act of obedience at least I might make reply to those letters of yours with which you were good enough to burden me rather than to honour me. Yet where I am bent low by the burden, even there I am raised up by your love. For it is no ordinary person that loves me, upraises me and makes me feel a picked man, but he can do so, that priest of the Lord, whom I feel to be so acceptable to God that when you lift up your good soul to the Lord, you lift me up too, since you hold me in it. I should then be now sending the books I had promised to revise, but I am not sending them for the reason that I have not revised them; not because I did not want to, but because I had no chance to do so, being engrossed in a multitude of very cogent duties. But it would have been excessively ungrateful and hard-hearted to allow this holy brother and colleague of mine, Possidius,a in whom you will find no small traces of me, either to miss making your acquaintance, since you are so dear a friend of mine, or to make it without a letter from me. For by my efforts he has been brought up not on those studies which men who are enslaved to every kind of lust call liberal, but on the bread of the Lord, in so far as it could be supplied to him from my meagre store.

For what else can we say to those who, although wicked and ungodly, believe themselves to be men of a liberal education, except what we read in the book that is truly liberal: If the Son has made you free, then shall ye be free indeed " b? For it is by His gift that whatever even those disciplines that are termed liberal by men who have not been called unto liberty, contain that is liberal, can be known at all. For they contain nothing consonant with liberty, unless what they contain consonant with truth. That is why the Son Himself says, And the truth shall make you free. c Those innumerable ungodly tales with which the verses of empty poets abound are in no wise consonant with the liberty that is ours, nor are the pompous, finely-turned falsehoods of the orators, nor even the long-winded subtleties of the philosophers themselves, who were either completely without knowledge of God or else, when they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, neither were thankful, but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened; professing themselves to be wise they became fools, and changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man and to birds and four-footed beasts and creeping things, a or who, though not given, or not excessively given, to such images, yet worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator. b Far be it, therefore, from us rightly to give the name of liberal studies to the lying conceits and follies, the empty trifles and complacent misrepresentations of those unhappy men who did not recognize the grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by which alone we are delivered from the body of this death. c even in those things which they felt to be true. Their historical works, whose writers claim to be especially reliable in their narratives, contain something perhaps that may fitly be learned by the free, since what they narrate, whether the fortunes or the misfortunes of mankind, is at any rate true. And yet, I completely fail to see how men who were without the assistance of the Holy Spirit, and were compelled by the very nature of human infirmity to gather mere rumours together, were not in their search for facts mistaken in most of them. Yet in such writings there is an approximation to liberty, provided that the writers have no intention of deceiving and do not mislead men, except in so far as they themselves, through human infirmity, are misled by their informants.

Now, since the power of rhythm in every kind of movement is most easily studied in sounds, and since the study of those leads upwards to the highest secrets of truth by a kind of gradual ascent in following which Wisdom pleasantly reveals herself and in every act of providence a meets those who love her, I intended at the beginning of my retirement, when my mind was free from greater and more necessary tasks, to make those books you asked from me a preliminary trial of strength. I then wrote six books exclusively on rhythm,b and proposed, I confess, to write others, six perhaps, on music, as I was expecting to have leisure before me. But after the burden of ecclesiastical concerns was laid upon me, all those trifles vanished from my hands so completely that now, when I cannot but respect your desire, which is more a command than a request, I can hardly find my own manuscript copy. But if I actually am able to send the treatise to you, the regret will not be mine for submitting to your pressure, but yours for so eagerly demanding it from me. For five books of it are very difficult to follow, unless you have beside you someone who can not only distinguish the parts of the interlocutors, but also give by his enunciation the proper quantity to the syllables uttered, so that in them the character of the metre is expressed and strikes the sensitive ear, especially as some of the feet contain, besides, pauses of fixed length, which cannot be sensed at all, unless the reader gives the hearer an idea of them by his method of enunciation.

But the sixth book, which I have found in a revised condition, contains the whole harvest of the others, and I am sending it to your Charity at once; it perhaps will not so markedly shrink from the attentions of one of your sober-mindedness. For the earlier five will hardly appear to our son and fellow-deacon, Julian, to be worth reading or knowing, since he too is now engaged in the same warfare as ourselves. Of him I dare not say that he is dearer to me than you are, for it would not be true to say that, but still I do dare to say that I long for him more than I do for you. It may seem strange how I long for him more, for I love you both equally: but this is the result of the greater hope I have of seeing him, for I think that if you were to send him or bid him come to me, he would both be doing what a young man should do, especially when he is not yet hindered by heavier responsibilities, and he would the more speedily bring you yourself to me.

I have not mentioned the nature of the verse in which the Psalms of David are composed, because I do not know, for the translator from the Hebrew tongue, which is unknown to me, could not reproduce the verse, for fear of being compelled by the needs of metre to depart from accuracy in his translation farther than was consistent with the meaning. But that they are composed in a definite metre I believe on the authority of those who have a thorough knowledge of that language; for that holy man loved sacred music, and he more than any other writer kindled in me a zeal for its study.

May you all dwell for evermore in the secret place a of the Most High, you who in one house dwell together in oneness of heart, b father and mother, of the same brotherhood as your children, and all of you children of one Father. Remember us.

This letter from me, which has been brought to you by my very dear son and fellow-deacon, Timothy,d was ready for his departure, when my sons Quodvultdeus and Gaudentius e reached us with a letter from you. That is the reason why Timothy, who was departing forthwith, did not bring a reply from me, since after their arrival he waited with us here only a very short time and was apparently on the point of departure at any minute. But even if I had sent a reply by him, I should still be in your debt, for even now, though I seem to have replied, I am in your debt, I do not mean for affection, for the more we have paid of that, the more we owe (we are always in debt for it, as the Apostle's words show, Owe no man anything but to love one another a). but for this letter of yours; for when could I make a fair return for your graciousness and the great eagerness of your spirit conveyed to me in the reading of your letter? Not that it told me anything in you that was not well known to me before, but yet, though not suggesting anything new, it was a new demand for a reply.

You perhaps wonder why I describe myself as unable to make an adequate repayment of this debt, when you, who know me as well as my own soul does, have conceived so great an opinion of me. But it is this very fact that makes it so difficult for me to reply to your letter, because I refrain for your modesty's sake from expressing the great esteem I entertain for you, and so by this restraint in expressing myself, when you have heaped so much praise upon me, what can I do but remain in your debt? This I should not mind, if I knew that your remarks to me about myself were inspired by flattery, that destroyer of friendship, and not by a very genuine affection, for in those circumstances I should not have been in debt at all, as it would have been no duty to pay back in the same coin. But the better I know the sincerity of mind with which you speak, the more I realize the burden of debt with which I am saddled.

Now just see what I have brought upon myself: in saying that you were sincere in praising me, I have been in a way praising myself. Yet what else could I say than what I have suggested about yourself, what else than what you know? But there I have put myself in another dilemma, one you did not set for me and which you perhaps expect me to resolve. Was it not enough for me to be in your debt without burdening myself with a debt even greater? Still, it is easy to show (and if I do not show, it is easy for you to see) that the truth can be uttered with insincerity, and untruth with sincerity; for a man who believes what he says speaks with sincerity, even if what he says be untrue, while a man who does not believe what he says speaks with insincerity, even if what he says be true. Have I any doubt that you do believe what you wrote about me? Yet, when I fail to recognize in myself the things you praise, it is possible that in all sincerity you were saying about me what was not true.

But I do not want you to be so misled even in your kindness of heart; to that kindness I am already in debt, since I could say with no less sincerity and no less kindness things that are true about you, if I were not anxious, as I said already, to spare your modesty. As for me, when praise is given me by one who is very near and very dear to my soul, I feel as if I were being praised by myself. So you see how embarrassing a position it is, even if what is said is true; how much more embarrassing since you, being my other soul—nay, we are but one soul, you and I—are just as misled in thinking I possess qualities that I do not possess, as a single individual can be misled about himself. And I do not want that to happen, not simply to keep you, so dear a friend of mine, from being misled, but also to keep you from slackening in your prayers that I may become what you believe I am already. I am not in your debt in such a way that with the same kindness and anticipation I should believe and speak favourably about qualities which you yourself are aware of not as yet possessing, but I am in debt in this way, that with just the same kindliness of intention I may describe you as possessing those good qualities, sent from God above, which I am certain are in you. And if I refrain from doing so, it is not from fear that I may be misled, but from fear that when I have been praising you, you may seem to have been praising yourself, and because of that principle of justice. a since I do not' want this done to myself. If this should be done, I prefer to be in debt as long as I keep thinking that it should not be done; but if it should not be done, then am I not in debt.

But I know the answer you may make to this:

You speak as if I had wanted from you a lengthy letter in my praise. Far be it from me to think that of you: yet your letter, so full of my praises (how true or untrue no matter), did demand this repayment from me, even if you did not intend it. For if you wished me to write in any other way, it was not a repayment you wanted from me but a fresh gift. Moreover, justice prescribes this order, that we should pay our debt first, and that only then we should, if we so decide, make a gift to our creditor in addition: yet, even the things you wanted me to write to you are, if we more carefully consider the Lord's injunctions, a repayment rather than a gift, if we are to owe no man anything but to love one another b; for love requires the payment of our debt, to the end that, in obedience to brotherly affection, we may, wherever we can, help him who has the right desire to be helped. But, my brother, I think you know how full my hands are; into them even the smallest drops of time hardly trickle for my refreshment amid the anxieties that constitute the inevitable bondage of a servant of the Lord. If I squander those on other business, I seem to myself to be neglecting my duties.

Yet, when you want me to write you a lengthy letter, I do indeed owe you that, I must confess; I surely do owe that to your sweet, sincere, and single-minded desire. But since you are a good lover of justice, I warn you to hear with the greater favour what I say about this object of your affection. You see that what I owe to you and others as well has a prior claim over what I owe to you alone; and time fails me for everything, when it fails me even for my first duties. So all those who are nearest and dearest to me (and in Christ's name you are among the first of these) will only be doing their duty if they not only lay no further burden of writing on me themselves, but with all the authority and holy kindness they can, forbid others also to do so, so that I may not seem hard-hearted when I fail to give what each one has asked, my own desire being all the time to pay the debt I owe to all. Finally, when your Reverence visits me, as I hope you will, for I have your promise, you will understand with what literary tasks so much of my time is taken up, and you will be more insistent in doing what I have asked, deterring any others you can from their desire to impose any more writing on me. May the Lord our God fill your spacious and holy breast and heart which He Himself has made, my most saintly lord!

Your Holiness is well acquainted with Faventius,b the tenant of the estate at Paratianis. c Being apprehensive of something or other at the hands of the proprietor of that same estate, he fled for refuge to the Church of Hippo, where he remained, as those who seek sanctuary d usually do, waiting to see if by my interposition he could bring the affair to a satisfactory end. Becoming, as each day passed, less and less vigilant—a usual occurrence—and lulled to security by the delusion that his enemy was growing remiss, he was leaving a friend's house after supper when he was suddenly seized and abducted by one Florentinus, said to be an officer of the Count,e aided by what they thought to be for the purpose a suffi- ciently large band of armed men. This was reported to me; but since there was as yet no information who his abductors were nor where they had taken him, though suspicion fell on the man who had frightened him into seeking protection from the Church, I at once communicated with the tribune in command of the coast-guards. He sent soldiers; no one could be found, but in the morning we discovered the house in which he had been detained and found that his keeper had left with him after cock-crow. I also sent to the place to which it was said he had been carried off. When the afore-mentioned officer was found, he refused to grant to the priest I had sent permission even to see him. Next day I sent a letter requesting for him the privilege winch the Emperor appointed in such cases as this,a namely, that those under summons to appear in court should be asked at the municipal bench if they were willing to spend thirty days in that town under lenient observation, to put their affairs in order or to prepare their finances. My expectation was that during that period we could perhaps reach a settlement of his case by friendly discussion. Already, however, he had gone off with that officer and was taken to prison, but there is some fear that if he be brought before the governor's tribunal, he may suffer some hardship, for although that judge has an excellent reputation for rectitude, Faventius's opponent in the case is a very wealthy man. So to prevent the exercise of any undue influence in that court by his money, I beg your Holiness, my dearest lord and venerable brother, to hand my letter to the honourable magistrate, a man very dear to me, and to read this one to him, for I do not think it necessary to write a second account of the same case; and let him postpone the hearing of his case, since I do not know whether he is innocent or guilty. And let him not make light of the fact that in dealing with him the legal procedure was not observed, in that he was seized and abducted and was not taken, as the Emperor enjoined, before the municipal court to be questioned whether he wished to avail himself of the concession of delay. In this way we may be able to reach a settlement with his opponent.

I particularly beg you, my friends, and beseech you for Jesus' sake, not to be grieved that I am absent from you in the body, for I believe you are confident that in no wise could I depart from you in spirit and heart-felt affection. Y"et I am more grieved than perhaps you are yourselves that in the weak state of my health I cannot adequately cope with all the attentions required from me by the members of Christ, whom love and fear of Him compel me to serve. For you are well aware, my dear friends, that I have never been absent because of any selfish desire for a free time, but because of the obligations imposed on me by my servitude, which has often compelled my holy brethren and colleagues to undertake tasks on the sea and over the sea, from which I have been excused not from want of conscientiousness,a but from imperfect bodily health. Accordingly, my brethren, let your behaviour be such that, as the Apostle says, whether I come and see you or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel. b If you are harassed by some temporal vexation, it ought the more to remind you how you ought to think of that life which you are to live without any toil, escaping not the vexatious hardships of this fleeting age, but the terrible penalties of the everlasting fire. For if you now expend so much forethought,, so much effort, so much toil, in saving yourselves from falling into any transitory torments, how anxious you should be to escape from everlasting miseries! And if the death which ends the toil of this life inspires such fear, how greatly that death is to be feared which casts men into everlasting pain! And if the vile and short-lived charms of this world are so loved, how much more eagerly are the undefiled and unending joys of the world to come to be sought after! Meditate upon these things and be not slothful in good works, that in due season you may come to the harvest of your sowing.

I have been informed that you have forgotten your habit of clothing the poor; to that work of mercy I exhorted you when I was with you, and I now exhort you not to be overcome and made slothful by the trials of this present world, which you now see visited by such calamities c as our Lord and

Redeemer, who cannot lie, foretold would come to pass. So far then from having any right to curtail your works of mercy, you ought to increase them beyond your usual measure. For just as they who see in the crumbling of its walls the impending downfall of their home, hasten to remove themselves to places more secure, so ought Christian hearts, the more they feel by the increase of its trials the approaching downfall of this present world, to be the more prompt and active in transferring to the treasury of heaven those goods they were proposing to store up on earth; in this way, if any human misfortune occurs, he who has removed from the place of destruction may rejoice, but if no such misfortune follows, he may not grieve, since, destined some day to die, he has committed his own possessions to his everlasting Lord, to Whom he will one day depart. Therefore, my beloved brethren, from what he has let each one of you according to his ability—and of that each man is the best judge—give his accustomed share with more than his accustomed cheerfulness, and cherish in your hearts amid all the vexations of this present world that admonition of the Apostle, in which he says: The Lord is at hand; be careful for nothing. a Let me have such reports of you that I may know that it is not because of my presence but because of God's command, Who is never absent from you, that you follow the practice you have followed for many years while I was present with you, and sometimes even when I was absent. The Lord preserve you in peace, my beloved brethren. Pray for us.

Although from the state of my health, or from my natural constitution, I cannot endure cold, still I have never had a chance of suffering greater feverishness than I have done this dreadful winter because of my inability—I shall not say to go, but to fly, to you (for to see you I would have flown across the seas) now that you are settled so near, after coming so far to visit us. And perhaps you will think, my godly friends, that this same severity of the winter was the only cause of my affliction; far be it from me, beloved! For what difficulty or trouble or even danger lies in those storms that I would not have undergone and endured in order to be with you, our great comfort in our great troubles, who in this crooked and perverse generation are lights kindled into such brightness by the Light supreme, and are the loftier for the humility you have taken upon you and the more illustrious for the lustre you have scorned? At the same time I should have too such great spiritual enjoyment in my earthly birthplace, since it has had the honour of your presence; in your absence, it had heard what you were by birth and what by the grace of Christ you have become, yet though in love it believed this, yet it was perhaps afraid to tell it to others in case they might not believe it.

I shall tell you, then, my reasons for not coming and the troubles that have kept me from so great a pleasure; thus I may gain not only pardon from you, but also, through your prayers, compassion from Him Who worketh in you to make you live unto Him. The people of Hippo, to whom the Lord gave me as a servant, are to a great extent, indeed to an almost complete extent, so feeble, that the infliction of even a trivial distress can seriously impair their well-being, and now they are smitten with such a great distress that, even were they not so feeble, they could scarcely endure it without a considerable risk of mental collapse. When I returned recently, I found them offended to a very dangerous degree at my absence. Now you, whose spiritual strength has given us such joy in the Lord, can certainly relish with wholesome palate the point of the saying: Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended, and I burn not? a particularly since there are here many who by disparaging us attempt to stir up against us the minds of the others by whom we seem to be loved, in order to make room in them for the devil. But when those whose salvation is our concern are angry with us, their great method of taking revenge is to lust after death, not the death of the body, but of the soul, where the fact of dissolution is secretly perceived by the odour of corruption before we can guess at it and take measures against it. This anxiety of mine I am sure you will gladly pardon, especially since you would perhaps find no heavier punishment, if you were angry and wanted to punish me, than what I have been enduring at not seeing you at Tagaste. But I hope that by the help of your prayers it may be granted me as soon as possible to pay you a visit, when this emergency that now detains me is past, wherever in Africa you may be, if this city that is the scene of my labours be unworthy, as I myself do not venture to consider it worthy, to share with me the joy of your presence.

It is right that I should assuage, and not augment, the grief of your spirit, which you describe in your letter as inexpressible; in this way I may, if possible, heal your suspicions and not add to the agitation of your heart, so venerable and so devoted to God, by indignantly repudiating them for my own sake. The people of Hippo did nothing to make our holy brother, your son Pinianus, apprehensive of death, even though he himself perhaps entertained some fear of it. We ourselves, indeed, were afraid that some of the ruffians who often mix with a crowd from some secret design might find an opportunity for rioting and produce an outburst of violence and outrage, stirring it up from apparently justified resentment; but we later had opportunity to ascertain that nothing of this kind was either suggested or attempted by anyone, although, to tell the truth, many insulting and opprobrious remarks were made against my brother Alypius—for which enormous offence I would that his prayers might win them pardon. But for my part, after their outcries began, I told them I could not ordain him against his will, being prevented by the promise I had already made, and I went on to say that if they made me break faith and had him as their priest, they would not have me as their bishop. I then left the crowd and returned to the clergy's stalls, whereupon, like a flame somewhat checked by the wind, they hesitated for a moment in consternation at my unexpected reply and then began to be much more afire with excitement, thinking that possibly they could wring from me the repudiation of my promise, or else that, if I stuck to my pledged word, he might receive ordination from another bishop. To those more notable and more venerable persons who came up to me in the apse a I kept saying, when possible, that I could not be deflected from keeping my pledged word, nor could any other bishop ordain in the church entrusted to me without my permission asked and given; even if I did allow that, I should none the less be departing from my pledge. I added, too, that if he were ordained against his will, they would only drive him away after his ordination. They would not believe that this could possibly happen, but the crowd standing before the steps and expressing their unchanged and obstinate determination with the most persistent and hideous din and shouting made them irresolute and perplexed. It was then that those opprobrious outcries arose against my brother, and then that I was afraid of more serious consequences.

Yet, although I was much perturbed at the excitement among the people and the turmoil in the church, and assured the crowd only of my inability to ordain him against his will, even under those circumstances I was not induced to make any suggestion to him about accepting priestly orders, for that was just what I had promised I would not do; if I could have succeeded in making him accept my suggestion, then he would not be ordained against his will. I remained faithful to both promises, not only the one I had revealed to the people, but also the other which, so far as men were concerned, had only one witness to bind me. I was faithful, I repeat, even in the face of such danger, to what was a promise, not an oath. We learned afterwards that our apprehensions of danger were without foundation, yet whatever danger there was threatened all of us alike, and the apprehension was shared by all, and I myself had thoughts of withdrawing, being chiefly apprehensive for the safety of the church in which we were gathered. But there was reason to fear that if I were not there, some such outrage might be more likely to result from the increase of their disrespect and the greater violence of their resentment. Further, if I did leave in company with brother Alypius through the crowded ranks of the people, we should have had to see that no one ventured to lay hands upon him; while if I left without him, what a shameful reputation I should earn if anything happened to him and I appeared to have deserted him with the sole purpose of delivering him over to the frenzy of the people.

Amid this feverish anxiety and oppressive anguish, when I was without a breath of any plan, lo! our holy son Pinianus suddenly and unexpectedly sends a servant of God to me to tell me that he wanted him to swear to the people that, if he were ordained against his will, he would leave Africa altogether; his notion was, I imagine, that seeing he could not break his oath, they would not go on clamouring with such persistence, if it only resulted in driving from the country a man whom we ought at least to have as a neighbour. But since it appeared to me that we had to fear a more violent outburst of resentment from them in consequence of an oath of this kind, I kept it to myself and said nothing about it; and as he had asked at the same time that I should go to him, I went at once. After telling me the same thing, he immediately added to that oath a point that he had sent another servant of God to put to me while I was on my way to him, namely, about his residence in Hippo, provided that no one compelled him to undertake the burden of clerical office against his will. At such an impasse, this refreshed me like a breath of air, but I said nothing to him and went with hurried step to brother Alypius and told him what he had said. But he, seeking, I think, to avoid responsibility for any occurrence that he thought might give you offence, made answer, Let no one ask my advice about it. On hearing this, I returned to the people, who were still in an uproar, and when silence had been obtained, I made them aware of the promise he had made and of the oath he had promised in addition. But as their mind and heart were set only on making him a priest, they did not accept his offer as I thought they would, but after a short time of muttering among themselves, demanded that he would add to his promise and oath the declaration that, if ever he decided to consent to undertake clerical office, he should do so only in the church of Hippo. I reported this to him; he agreed without hesitation; I returned to them with his answer; they were overjoyed, and presently demanded the oath he had promised.

I returned to our son, and found him at a loss for words in which to frame his promise confirmed by his oath, allowing for necessities that might occur to make his departure essential. At the same time, too, he revealed what it was he feared, namely, the occurrence of a hostile invasion, to avoid which it would be necessary to depart. The saintly Melania wanted to add to this the excuse of the unhealthy climate, but his reply to this reproved her. I stated that he had brought forward a ground of necessity that was grave and not to be despised, one which would compel the inhabitants as well to abandon the town; but if that reason were intimated to the people, it was to be feared that we might seem to be prophesying disaster, while if his excuse were stated in general terms of necessity, they would think that the necessity was only a make-believe. Yet he decided that we should test the mind of the people about it, and we found the result was exactly what we had anticipated. For when his words were read out to them by the mouth of a deacon and everything had been received with approbation, as soon as the word " necessity " that he had introduced fell on their ears, they immediately remonstrated and took exception to his promise, while the outcry was renewed, and the people jumped to the conclusion that the negotiations were meant only to deceive them. When our holy son perceived this, he ordered the word necessity to be struck out, and the people were restored to their condition of delight.

And although I pleaded weariness, he would not approach the people without me, so we went together. He stated that it was his message they had heard the deacon recite, that he had confirmed it by oath and would carry out what he had promised, and straightway he repeated everything just as he had dictated it. The response was made, Thanks be to God, and it was asked that the whole written statement should be subscribed. We dismissed the catechumens a and straightway he subscribed the statement. Then the people began to ask (not by shouting out, but still through some of the faithful of good report, commissioned by them) that I. as bishop, should subscribe it too. But when I began to subscribe it, the saintly Melania opposed it. I wondered why she intervened at that late hour, as if my refraining from subscribing could invalidate his promise and oath; but yet I humoured her, and so my subscription remained unfinished, and no one thought of insisting any further on my subscribing.

But what the feelings and remarks of people were on the following day, after they learned of his departure, I have taken the trouble to indicate to you, my saintly friend, as far as seemed to me necessary, in my official communication. Anyone, therefore, who happens to give you an account which contradicts the one I have given you is either lying or misinformed. I am conscious of having passed over certain points which seemed to me irrelevant to my purpose, but not of having made any false statement. Likewise, it is true that our holy son, Pinianus, took the oath in my presence and with my permission, but it is not true that he took it at my instigation. He knows this himself; the servants of God whom he sent to me know it, first the saintly Barnabas, then Timasius, by whom too he sent me the message about his promise to take up residence in Hippo. The people, too, were urging him by their cries to accept office as priest, not to take an oath; but when it was offered, they did not refuse it, in the hope that, if he came to live among us, he might become willing to agree to ordination, and that he would not take his departure, as he had sworn to do, if he were ordained against his will. And so even they were actuated in their outcries by concern for God's work—for the consecration to priesthood is surely God's work—and afterwards feeling dissatisfied with his promise of residence here without the further stipulation that if he eventually decided to agree to undertake clerical office he would do so only in the church of Hippo, it is quite evident that they were hopeful too of his taking up house among them, and so, here too, they did not depart from their zeal for God's work.

How then can you maintain that in so doing they were impelled by a base love of money? In the first place, the people who raised the outcry have simply nothing to do with that; for just as the people of Tagaste derive from your gifts to the church of

Tagaste only joy in your good deed, so, too, with the people of Hippo and of any other place where you have followed out the Lord's injunctions about the mammon of unrighteousness, a or wherever you will do so. Thus, in demanding with such eagerness that their own church should reap the advantage of so outstanding a man, the people did not seek their own monetary gain from you, but testified their esteem for the scorn of money in you. For if because they had heard that I had scorned my few paternal acres and had turned to the willing bondage of God, they testified their esteem for me and did not grudge them to the church of Tagaste, which is my earthly birthplace, but, since it had not imposed clerical office upon me, laid violent hands upon me when they had the opportunity to make me their own, how much more ardently could they esteem in our friend Pinianus his overcoming and treading under foot such worldly ambitions, such wealth, such prospects! I indeed appear in the opinion of many who compare themselves with themselves b not to have forsaken a fortune but to have come into a fortune, for my patrimony can scarcely be reckoned to be a twentieth part in proportion to the property of the church, which I am now considered to possess as a master. But let our brother become—I do not say a priest, but a bishop in any church, especially in Africa, he will be extremely poor, in comparison with his former wealthy condition, even if he acts in the spirit of a proprietor. In one in whom there can be no suspicion of coveting a position of greater affluence, the love of Christian poverty is therefore much more clearly apparent and certain. It was that which inflamed the people's mind and stirred them up to that violent and most insistent clamour. Let us not accuse them in addition of sordid covetousness, but rather let us allow them, without imputation of base motives, to esteem in others at least the good they themselves do not possess. For even if that crowd had an admixture of poor persons or beggars who joined in the shouting and hoped for an addition to their meagre store from what your Honours could spare, even that, in my opinion, is not sordid covetousness.

It remains, then, that your charge of a most sordid lust for money is indirectly levelled at the clergy, and especially at the bishop. For it is we who are thought to be lording it over the Church's property, and to be enjoying its resources. In short, whatever income we have received from those sources, it is we who either have it still in our possession or have expended it as we pleased: no portion of it have we distributed to the people who are outside the ranks of clergy or outside the monastery, except to a very few in want. I do not say, then, that the charges you made were necessarily uttered against us particularly, but that we are the only people against whom they could be credibly uttered. What then shall we do? If we cannot clear ourselves before our enemies, how at least shall we do so before you? It is a matter of conscience, it lies within, hidden from mortal eyes, and is known only to God. What then remains to us but to call as our witness upon God, to Whom it is all known? Since such is your feeling about us, you do not enjoin us to take the much better course which you have thought fit in your letter to cast up to me as blameworthy, but you absolutely force me to take an oath, not threatening me with the death of this body of mine, as the people of Hippo are supposed to have done, but threatening me with the death of my good reputation, which is surely to be reckoned more precious than even the life of this body, because of the weak brethren, to whom we strive by our conduct, such as it is, to show ourselves an example of good works. a

Yet, though you do in this way force me to take an oath, I am not indignant with you, as you are with the people of Hippo, for, like men judging other men, even if you believe the things which are not in us, still you do not believe the things that cannot be in us. That is a fault in you that is rather to be cured than to be censured, and, if our conscience is clear in the sight of the Lord, our character has to be cleared in your sight. It may be, as my brother Alypius and I said in conversation before that temptation occurred, that God will grant that not only you, our beloved fellow-Christians, but also our enemies, may know without a shadow of a doubt that no lust for money defiles us in our administration of the Church's business. Until that happen (if the Lord grants it to happen), just see, I am doing as a temporary expedient what you force me to do, in order to avoid the slightest possible delay in soothing your feelings. God is my witness that it is only because of the service I owe to the love of my brethren and the fear of God that I put up with all the administration of the Church's business over which I am supposed to love the exercise of lordship, and that I have so little liking for it that I should wish to do without it, if it could be done without unfaithfulness to my office. God Himself is my witness that I believe the same to be quite true about my brother Alypius. Neverthe- less, because in his case the people (and what is worse, the people of Hippo) held a different belief, they rushed into that abuse of him, and in our case, because you believed such accusations, though nominally censuring the same people, who have simply nothing to do with this charge of covetousness, you, who are saints of God and full of tender compassion, tried to get at us and reprove us, though to be sure it was for our improvement, and not from dislike—far be that from you. And so I should not be angry, but grateful, since you could not have acted in a more respectful or a more courteous manner, not offensively hurling at the bishop the reproof you had in mind, but leaving it to be indirectly understood.

Do not be offended and think yourselves in a way ill-used, that I have thought it necessary to take an oath, for the apostle was not ill-using or ceasing to have affection for those to whom he said, Neither used we at any time flattering words, as ye know, nor took any opportunity for covetousness; God is witness. a For the known fact he took them to witness themselves, but for the hidden fact, God alone. If he then was right in fearing that human ignorance might conceive some such opinion about himself, whose labours were open for all men to see and who only in extreme necessity took anything for his own benefit from the peoples to whom he ministered the grace of Christ, producing with his own hands everything necessary for his sustenance; how much more should we exert ourselves to secure men's confidence, for both in holy merit and in mental courage we are far inferior and are unable with our own hands to make anything that would support this life; even if we could, the many demands upon us, such as I do not think they in their day endured, would altogether prevent us. So in this matter let no further reproach of the base lust for money be made against the Christian people who constitute the Church of God. It is more tolerable that it should be made against us,for on us suspicion of that sin could fall, though without ground, yet not without probability, than upon those who are well known to be far removed from this lust and this suspicion.

For minds endowed with any faith—and how much more Christian faith!—to deny an oath, I do not say to assert anything that contradicts it, but to waver in regard to it at all, this is utterly wrong. In the letter a I wrote to my brother I have, I think, revealed with sufficient clearness my opinion on this point. Your Holiness has written to me, asking whether the people of Hippo or I think that anyone should abide by an oath that was extorted by force. What do you think yourself? Does it meet with your approval that a Christian should call upon the name of the Lord his God with intent to deceive, that a Christian should make his God a witness to a falsehood, even under the menace of certain death, the fear of which was in this case unfounded? Surely if he were compelled by the menace of death to bear false witness besides his oath, he ought to fear the loss of honour more than the loss of life. Hostile armies confront each other with weapons and contend with the undoubted and avowed purpose of dealing death, and yet when they take an oath to each other, we praise those who keep their word and rightly execrate those who break it. What impelled them to take an oath, unless the fear on each side of being slain or captured? And so, unless the oath extorted by the fear of either death or captivity be respected, unless the faith they have pledged in it be kept, even men of that kind are held back by the fear of being charged with sacrilege and perjury, because they are more afraid of breaking faith than of taking human life; and yet we debate like splitters of hairs whether an oath should be fulfilled that was extorted from servants of God who are most notable by reason of their holiness, from ascetics who even by the distribution of their own property are swift to carry out Christ's commandments.

Is it that his promised residence here, I ask you, is burdened with the name of exile or transportation or banishment? I do not suppose that the office of priest is an exile. Would our friend then choose it in preference to that exile? Far be it from us to make that excuse for one who is a saint of God and very dear to ourselves; far be it from us, I repeat, to say of him that he preferred exile to the priestly office, or preferred perjury to exile. I might say that, if the oath by which he promised to reside here had been really extorted from him by us or by the people, but in point of fact it was not extorted in spite of his refusal, but accepted on being proffered, and that in the hope and belief, as I said above, that by his residence here he might possibly comply with their desire that he should undertake clerical office. In the last place, whatever opinion be entertained of the people of Hippo or of us, there is a great difference between the case of those who may have compelled him to take the oath and that of those who may have persuaded, not to say compelled, him to break it. Further, let him of whom we speak not refuse to consider whether an oath taken under the compulsion of any kind of fear is a worse thing than the breaking of that oath, when the actual fear has been removed.

Thanks be to God that the people of Hippo regard his promise towards themselves as being fulfilled if he comes to the town with the intention of residing in it, and departs whither necessity calls him with the purpose of returning. If they were to regard the letter of his oath and demand its literal fulfilment, God's servant ought in no wise to depart rather than in any wise to break his word. Yet, since it would be criminal for them so to bind any individual, not to mention a man of his quality, they themselves have proved that they entertained no other expectation, for on hearing that he had departed with the promise of return, they manifested their satisfaction; and fidelity to an oath requires no more and no less than the performance of what was anticipated from it by those to whom it was made. What is the use of saying that in taking the oath that he framed with his own lips, he added a proviso about circumstances that might necessitate his leaving the town; the fact is that with his own lips he again ordered that clause to be struck out. To be sure, he might have put it in again when he spoke to the people, but if he had, they surely would not have made answer, Thanks be to God! but would have returned to that protest which they made when it was read out by the deacon with the proviso inserted. And does it really affect the point, whether the excuse of necessity for leaving the town was inserted or was not? Nothing more and nothing less was expected from him than what I mentioned above, and anyone who disappoints the expectations of those to whom he takes an oath cannot be anything but a perjurer.

Therefore let his promise be fulfilled and the heart of the weak brethren be healed, so that this notable precedent may not encourage those who approve of it to commit similar perjury, or those who disapprove of it to say with perfect justice that no one of us is to be believed, not only on promise of anything, but even on oath. In this connexion we ought rather to safeguard ourselves against the tongues of our enemies, which our greater enemy employs like darts to slay the weak. But be it far from us to hope for anything from a soul like his, other than what the fear of God inspires, and its own great, native excellence of holiness exhorts. As for myself, you say I ought actually to have forbidden his oath, but I confess I could not be so minded as to prefer seeing the church I serve overthrown by such an uproarious outbreak to accepting the offer made to me by a man of his standing.

Those Circumcellions and clergy of the Donatist party whom the guardians of public order had taken from Hippo to be tried for their misdeeds, have been heard, I am informed, by your Excellency, and the majority of them have confessed to having murdered Restitutus, a Catholic priest, and beaten Innocentius, another Catholic priest, and gouged out his eye and cut off a finger. This news has plunged me into the deepest anxiety, lest perchance your Highness may decide that they must endure a legal sentence so severe that their punishment shall be similar in kind to their crime. For that reason I implore you by the faith you have in Christ, by the mercy of Christ the Lord Himself, neither to do this nor to let it be done at all. For although we can disclaim responsibility for the death of men who were clearly made to appear before the court on no accusation of ours, but on the indictment of those officers who were concerned with the safe-guarding of the public peace, still it is not our desire that the sufferings of God's servants shall be avenged by the infliction of similar punishments, as if by way of retaliation; not that we refuse to allow wicked men to be deprived of impunity in crime, but that we rather desire that justice be satisfied in such a way as to turn the wicked by means of coercive measures from their mad frenzy to the peaceableness of sane men, without taking their life or crippling them in any part of the body, and so set them to some useful work instead of their works of malice. That too is called a penal sentence, but who can fail to see that it is to be termed rather a benefit than a punishment, when, on the one side, bold and frenzied violence is not allowed a free hand, and, on the other, the remedy of repentance is not withheld;

Christian judge, fulfil the duty of a devoted father; be angry at wickedness, yet forget not humane considerations, and do not give rein to the desire to seek revenge for the atrocity of their sinful deeds, but exert your will to the curing of the sores of the sinners. Do not lose that fatherly care that you maintained at the inquiry, when you extracted the confession of those heinous offences, not by stretching them on the rack, or by furrowing their flesh with hooks, or by burning them with flames, but by beating them with rods—a method of coercion employed by schoolmasters and by parents themselves, and often by bishops as well in their courts. Do not then punish with harsher sentence what you found out by gentler methods. The need for finding out is greater than that of punishment, for even the gentlest of men investigate a hidden crime with care and insistence, to the end that they may find out those whom they are to spare. That is why it is usually necessary to pursue the investigation with greater harshness, so that, when the guilt has been brought to light, there may be an opportunity for showing moderation. For all good works delight in being set in the light, not to gratify human vanity, but, as the Lord says, that men may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven. a And for this reason the Apostle was not satisfied with admonishing us to preserve our moderation, but urged us further to make it known to all, saying. Let your moderation be known to all men, b and elsewhere, Showing moderation to all men. c So, too, that very remarkable forbearance of the holy David, when in his clemency he spared the enemy who was delivered into his hands,d would not be so conspicuous, if his power to act otherwise were not equally apparent. So then, do not let your power to exact punishment drive you to harsh measures, when the need for making an investigation did not make you discard your clemency. Do not send for the executioner after finding out the crime, when to find it out you did not use the services of the torturer.

Finally, it is for the benefit of the Church that you have been sent. I solemnly avow that such a line of action is to the advantage of the Church as a whole or, not to have the appearance of going beyond the limits of my own stewardship, of the church belonging to the diocese of Hippo Regius. If you will not give ear to the petition of a friend, give ear to a bishop's advice; in fact, since I am addressing a Christian, it would not be arrogant in me to say, especially in a matter of this kind, that it is your duty, my noble and justly distinguished lord and well-beloved son, to give ear to a bishop's commands, concerning that for which most of all, as I know, the Church cases have devolved upon your Excellency; but as I believe this responsibility belongs to that illustrious and admirable man, the Proconsul, I have written a letter to him too, which I beg you to take the trouble to hand to him and, if need be, to recommend to his notice yourself. And I beseech both of you not to think I am importunate with either my intercession or advice or anxiety, and not to let the sufferings of the Catholic servants of God, which ought to be of benefit in the spiritual up-building of the wreak, be sullied by the retaliation of punishment on the enemies at whose hand they suffered; rather, blunting the edge of judicial rigour, exert every effort to commend your faith, since ye are sons of the Church, and at the same time the moderation of your Holy Mother.

May Almighty God enrich your Excellency with all good things, my noble and deservedly distinguished lord and well-beloved son.

If that which greatly distressed me in your city has been removed, if the hardness of the human heart, resisting the most evident and, as one might say, the most notorious truth, has been overcome by the power of that same truth, if there is relish for the sweet savour of peace, and the brotherly love that springs from unity no longer dazzles aching eyes, but fills with light and vigour eyes that are sound, this is not my doing, but God's; I would not in the least attribute it to human resources, even if the conversion of so great a multitude had taken place when I was among you, in response to my own addresses and exhortations. That is His doing, His achievement, Who uses his ministers to draw attention to the external signs of things, but teaches men by things themselves within, through none but Himself. Yet the fact that whatever praiseworthy change has been wrought in you has been wrought not by us, but by Him Who alone doeth wonderful works, a is no reason why we should be less eager to stir ourselves to visit you. With much more eagerness ought we to hasten to behold the works of God than our own, for we too, in so far as we are good at all, are His work, not the work of men. That is why the Apostle says. Neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth, but God that giveth the increase. b

You mention in your letter an incident which I too recall from classical literature, how by discoursing on the fruits of temperance Xenocrates suddenly converted Polemo c to another mode of life, though he was not only a drunkard but was actually drunk at the time. Now although he was not won for God, but was only delivered from the thraldom of self-indulgence, as you have wisely and truly apprehended, yet I would not ascribe even that change wrought in him for the better to the work of man. but to that of God, for from God alone, by Whom nature was created and made perfect, come whatever good qualities there are in the body itself, the lowest part of us, such as comeliness and strength and health and the like. How much more sure is it, therefore, that no other can bestow its good qualities upon the soul. Can human folly harbour a more arrogant or ungrateful thought than the notion that whereas God makes man beautiful in body, man makes himself pure in heart? In the book of Christian Wisdom it is written, When I perceived that no one could have self-restraint, un- less God give it him, and that this itself is a part of wisdom, to know whose gift it is. a If, then, in being converted from dissipation to self-restraint, Polemo had known whose gift that was, and so had thrown over the superstitions of the heathen and worshipped Him in reverence, he would then have become not only self-restrained, but also truly wise and soundly religious, and that would have secured for him not only virtue in the present life, but also immortality in the life to come. How much less, then, should I presume to claim for myself the credit for your conversion or that of your people, which you have just reported to me; in those in whom it really was accomplished, it was unquestionably accomplished from above, without either my words or even my presence. Recognize this fact, therefore, above everything else; with humility and reverence keep it before your mind. To God, my brethren, to God render your thanks; fear God, so that you may not fall back; love Him, so that you may go forward.

If, however, there are some whom the love of man keeps secretly apart and the fear of man keeps mistakenly united,b let all such take note that the human conscience lies naked to God and that they can neither deceive Him as witness nor escape Him as judge. c But if, from anxiety to secure their own salvation, they are at all disturbed over this question of unity, let them force themselves to do what is, in my opinion, a thoroughly fair thing, namely, to accept the statements of Holy Scripture about the Church Catholic (that is, the Church spread abroad throughout the world) rather than the mis-statements of human tongues. With reference to this schism which has arisen among men (who, whatever they may be, assuredly do not impair the promises of God, Who said to Abraham, In thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, a a promise believed when it was heard as a prophecy and denied when it is seen as an accomplished fact), let them for the present meditate upon this very brief, but, unless I am mistaken, very unanswerable argument, that the case was either tried before a church court across the sea, or was not tried; if it was not tried there, the society of Christians among all the overseas nations is guiltless; we rejoice in communion with that society, and so their separation from those guiltless brethren is clearly an act of sacrilegious disruption. If, again, the case was tried there, who can fail to understand, and feel, and see, that those whose communion is sundered from those others are the defeated party in the case? Let them have their choice then, whether they prefer to accept the verdict of the ecclesiastical judges or the insinuations of the defeated plaintiffs. Notice carefully, as you are wise enough to do, that no serious confutation can be offered against this tersely expressed, yet easily understood, dilemma; and yet Polemo in his dissipation was more easily turned from his drunkenness than they from the folly of their deeply rooted error. b

Grant me pardon, my noble and justly honoured lords, my beloved and much longed for brethren, for a letter which is perhaps more lengthy than agreeable, but yet, in my opinion, more likely to profit you than to flatter you. May God give fulfilment to the desire we both share, that I should visit you! Words fail me to express the great and fervent love that inflames me to see you, but I have no doubt at all that you will be good enough to recognize that it is so.

I am very grateful for your kindness in cheering me by a letter from you and in giving me news of your welfare. The Lord recompense you, my greatly beloved lord and much longed for brother, with such blessings that you may be ever blessed and may live eternally with Him Who is eternal. Although I do not recognize myself in those encomiums of me contained in your Benevolence's letter, yet I cannot be ungrateful for your goodwill towards one so insignificant as I. At the same time I urge you rather to pray for me, that the Lord may make me what you imagine I already am. [In another hand] May you abide in safety and be well-pleasing unto the Lord, my greatly beloved lord and much longed for brother. Forget us not!

You have filled my heart with joy, the more delightful because of your affection, and the more welcome because of your promptitude.For while the consecration of a daughter of your house to the life of virginity is being proclaimed by busy rumour wherever your fame is known, and that is everywhere, you outstripped its speediest flight by the surer and more trustworthy information in your letter and made us exult at the news of so very excellent a blessing before we had time to doubt the rumour of it. What words are adequate to tell, what commendation worthy to commemorate, how incomparably greater is the glory and the gain, that Christ should have women from your family dedicated to virginity than that the world should have men from it elevated to the consulship? For if it is a great and notable thing to leave the mark of an honoured name upon the scrolls of time, how much greater and more notable it is by unsullied innocence of mind and body to rise above them! So let this maiden, noble in her race, nobler in her holiness, find more cause for joy that she is destined to obtain through this divine espousal an especial distinction in heaven than if she had been destined to become through an earthly marriage the mother of a distinguished line. It was a more noble-minded thing for a scion of the Anicii a to prefer to magnify that illustrious family by repudiating marriage rather than to increase it by bearing children and now in the flesh to imitate the life of the angels rather than from the flesh still further to augment the number of mortals. It is a richer and more prolific happiness not to grow big with child but to grow great in mind, not to have milk in the breasts but to have purity in the heart, to bring forth not the earthly through travail, but the heavenly through prayer. May it be yours, ladies most worthy of honour and daughters deservedly famous and most distinguished, to enjoy in her what you surrendered to give her birth! May she be steadfast unto the end, cleaving to that union which has no end! May many low-born maids imitate her, the highborn mistress, and those whose eminence is perishable follow her who through humility has reached a higher eminence; may the virgins who covet the splendour of the Anician family choose to emulate its holiness! The one will always elude their grasp, however much they long for it; the other will soon be theirs, if their longing be whole-hearted. May the right hand of the Most High be your covering unto safety and fuller happiness, ladies most worthy of honour and daughters most distinguished! In the love of the Lord and with the respect due to your deservings, we greet the children of your holy house, especially her who is outstanding in holiness. We have been very glad to receive the gift a commemorating her taking the veil.

The brother who brings this, Barbarus by name, is a servant of God who has been settled for a long time now at Hippo and is an eager and diligent hearer of the word of God. He besought this letter from me to your Holiness, in which I commend him to you in the Lord and through him offer you my due greetings. To reply to your Holiness's letter, into which you have woven big questions, is a very considerable undertaking even for men of leisure, possessing much more skill in argument and greater acuteness of understanding than I do. Of the two letters from you, containing many extensive queries, one, indeed, has somehow or other gone astray and after a long search has eluded discovery, but the other, which was found, contains a very charming commendation of a servant of God, a good and chaste young man, telling how he departed this life and by what testimony from the visions of brethren you were able to have assurance of his worth. Then you take the opportunity to set forth and discuss a very obscure question about the soul, whether, when it leaves the body, it is united with any other material body, so that it may be conveyed to material places or be enclosed in material places. The treatment of this problem, if indeed it can be clearly investigated by one such as myself, demands attention and the most laborious application, and therefore a mind quite free from such occupations as mine. But if you want to hear my opinion in a word or two, I certainly do not hold that the soul departs from the body with a material body.

How those visions and predictions of future events come about is for him first to try to explain who knows what agency produces all those images that are in anyone's mind when he is thinking. For we see and clearly perceive that in it are found countless images of many objects that are discernible by the eye or by the other bodily senses; it is of no importance for the moment whether they are produced in regular sequence or at random, but only that, since they do take place, as is obvious, anyone who can explain by what agency and in what way these phenomena are produced, all of which are of daily and repeated occurrence, may warrant ably venture a conjecture or a definition about those very rare visions too. But for my part, the more I realize my incom- petence to account for the occurrence of the experience we have throughout life, asleep and awake, the more I shrink from attempting to explain these others. For while I am dictating this letter to you, I have a picture of you yourself in my mind, though naturally you are far away and unaware of my thoughts, and, in the light of my inward knowledge of you, I try to see how my words can affect you; and I fail to comprehend and discover how that process takes place in my mind, though I am sure that it is not caused by material particles or material qualities, although the actual picture is very like something material. For the present, accept this as a statement dictated in haste and under the pressure of work. However, in the twelfth book of my treatise on Genesis,a this problem is examined with thoroughness, and the discussion there is luxuriant with numerous examples drawn from personal experience and trustworthy report. When you read it, you will be able to judge of my competence or success in it, if the Lord is but pleased to grant me the opportunity of publishing those books suitably corrected and by concluding the discussion to end the suspense of anticipation in many of m v brethren.

I shall give you a brief account, however, of one such example, which I commend to your consideration. Our brother Gennadius,b the physician, very well known to almost everybody and very dear to us, who now lives at Carthage and was a leading figure in the practice of his art at Rome, is, as you know, a man of devout mind, unwearied compassion, most gracious geniality, and great kindness to the afflicted poor. But at one time, as he told me recently, while he was still in the prime of life and most zealous in those works of charity, he was assailed by doubt of the existence of any life after death. As God would in no wise abandon a man so compassionate in temper and deeds, there appeared to him, accordingly, while he was asleep, a young man of striking appearance and imposing mien, and said to him, Follow me. He followed him and came to a certain city, in which he began to hear on the right hand the strains of a song so very sweet that it surpassed the sweetness of known and ordinary music; listening eagerly, he asked what it was and was told that it was the hymns of the blessed and the holy. What he reported he had seen on the left hand, I do not clearly remember. He awoke and his dream fled, and he thought only of it as one does of a dream.

Yet another night, lo, the same young man in person appeared to him again and asked if he recognized him. Gennadius replied that he recognized him perfectly well. Then the young man asked where he had got to know him; he had quite a clear recollection of the answer to that too, and he told all about that vision and the hymns of the saints which, under the other's guidance, he had gone to hear, with that readiness which marked the recollection of very recent experiences. At this point the other asked him whether he was asleep or awake when he saw what he had been telling of; the answer was that he was asleep. The other replied, Your memory is good; you are right, you were asleep when you saw that, but you must know that even now you can see, though you are asleep. When Gennadius heard that, he accepted it as true and expressed his belief. Then his teacher went on to say, Where is your body now? to which he made answer, In my bed-chamber. Do you know, said the other, that in that puny body your eyes are at this moment bound down and shut and idle and that with those eyes you see nothing? He said, I know. To which the other answered, What eyes then are those with which you see me? Finding no reply to that question, Gennadius was silent, and when he hesitated, the young man revealed the lesson he was trying to teach by these questions and immediately replied, Just as those eyes of your body that lies sleeping in bed are now inactive and do nothing and yet you have eyes with which you behold me and employ another power of sight, so when you are dead and the eyes of your flesh have ceased to do anything, you still will have a life by which you will live and perceptions by which you will perceive. Henceforth remember not to doubt the continuance of life after death. In this way that trustworthy man declares that his doubts concerning immortality were taken away. What taught him but the providence and mercy of God?

Someone may say that by this story I have not solved but complicated this great problem. But yet, since each man is free to believe what I have said or to disbelieve it, each one has a very deep problem in himself, and with that he may delight himself. Man wakes and sleeps each day and thinks. Let any man tell whence proceed those occurrences; they are not material bodies, yet bear a likeness in shape, in properties and in motion, to material bodies; let him tell, if he can, but if he cannot, why is he so hasty to pronounce a kind of final judgement about experiences he has very seldom or not at all, when he cannot explain matters that occur each day and every day? Though, for my part, words fail me to explain how those semblances of material bodies without a real body come to be, yet, just as I know that they are not produced by the body, so I should wish to know how we can separate those things that are seen at times by the spirit and are thought to be seen by the body, or how we can distinguish the things seen by those who are often deluded by error or by impiety, when the majority of the visions they tell of bear a likeness to those seen by the good and the holy. If I had wanted to give examples of these, I should have been short of time rather than material. Remember me, my saintly lord and revered and longed for brother, and may the mercy of the Lord be your refreshment!

If you could see my heart-felt grief and anxiety for your salvation, you would perhaps have pity on your own soul, doing what is pleasing unto God b by giving ear to the injunction which is not ours, but His, and you would not impress His Scriptures on your memory only to close your heart against them. You are angry because you are being dragged to salvation, although you and your friends have dragged so many of our people to destruction. What other intention have we, but to arrest you and bring you before the judge and preserve you from perishing? As for the fact that you received a slight bodily injury, you are to blame for that yourself, for you would not make use of the mule that was at once brought for you, and dashed yourself with violence to the ground; for, as you know, the other person who was taken away with you, a colleague of yours, arrived uninjured, since he did not cause any such injury to himself.

But even that, in your opinion, should not have been done to you, for you hold that no one should be forced to what is good. Mark the words of the Apostle, If a man desire the office of bishop, he desireth a good work, a yet in spite of them, many men are led to undertake the office of bishop only by being detained against their will, brought from one place to another, shut up and kept under supervision, subjected to treatment that they do not like, until they acquire a willingness to undertake that good work. b How much more fitting it is that you should be torn away from that pernicious error, by clinging to which you are your own worst enemies, and brought to either a knowledge or acceptance of the truth, so that you may not only retain your honour with safety to yourselves, but also escape the great misery of destruction. You say that God has given man free-will and that therefore no one should be forced even to good. Why then are those men I spoke of above compelled to good? Mark well then a point you refuse to take into consideration: the reason why a good will expends itself in works of mercy is to provide guidance for man's evil will. For who does not know that man is not damned unless for a his evil will, nor, on the other hand, granted deliverance, unless he has a good will? Still b it does not follow that those we love are to be cruelly left to enjoy their evil will without correction, but where the power is granted, they are to be both prevented from evil and forced to good.

(For if an evil will is always to be left to enjoy its liberty, why were such severe scourges employed to prevent the disobedient and querulous Israelites from evil and to compel them to the land of promise? c If an evil will is always to be left to enjoy its liberty, why was Paul not allowed the free use of his perverted will to persecute the Church, but was thrown to the ground to be blinded, and blinded to be transformed, and transformed to be made an apostle, and made an apostle to endure for the truth sufferings such as he had inflicted when in error? d If an evil will is always to be left to enjoy its liberty, why do the Holy Scriptures admonish a father not only to correct his obstinate son with rebukes, but also to punish his bodyT with blows, so that, compelled and subdued, he may be led to habits of goodness? e That is why the same writer says, Thou shalt beat him with a rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell. f If an evil will is always to be left to enjoy its liberty, why are careless pastors rebuked with the words, Ye have not brought back the wandering sheep, ye have not sought that which was lost g? You too are Christ's sheep; you bear the mark a of the Lord in the sacrament you have received, but you have wandered away and are lost. There is no reason why you should be angry with us for recalling you from wandering and seeking you when you were lost, for it is better for us to carry out the will of the Lord, Who gave us the injunction to compel you to return to His fold, than to acquiesce in the will of the wandering sheep and allow you to be lost. Do not then say what I hear you keep saying, I want to wander in my own way; I want to be lost in my own way, for it is better that we should not allow that at all, as far as in us lies.)

When lately you threw yourself into a well with the intention of slaying your body, you certainly did that of your own free will. But how cruel the servants of God would have been if they had handed you over to your own evil will and not delivered you from that death! Who would not have justly blamed them? Who would not have been right in judging them inhuman? And yet you threw yourself into the water, intending to slay your body, of your own free will, and they lifted you out of the water, to defeat your intention, against your will; you acted according to your own will, but to your own destruction, while they acted against your will, but for your own preservation. If then the preservation of the body is to be safeguarded so that those who do not wish it are to be secured by their friends, how much more the preservation of the spirit, for the abandoning of which the fearsome consequence is eternal death! And yet the death you sought to deal yourself was not only a death for time but for eternity, for even if you were being compelled to some evil deed instead of to self-preservation, to the peace of the Church, to the unity of Christ's body, or to holy and indivisible charity, even so, you had no right to attempt to take your own life.

Examine the Holy Scriptures and scrutinize them to the best of your ability, and see if at any time any one of the righteous and the faithful took this course, although they endured such great sufferings at the hands of those who sought to impel them to everlasting destruction, not to everlasting life, to which you are being forced. I have heard that you have said that the apostle Paul indicated that self-immolation was lawful, in the words, Though I give my body to be burned, a on the supposition that, as he was there enumerating all the good things that are of no avail without charity, such as the tongues of men and of angels, and all mysteries, and all knowledge and all prophecy and all faith that could remove mountains, and the bestowal of one's property on the poor,b he intended among these good things to count even self-immolation. But observe carefully and notice in what sense the Scripture says that a man may give his body to be burned: certainly not that he may throw himself into the fire when he is harassed by a pursuing enemy, but that when the proposal is made to him that he should do wrong or else suffer wrong, he should choose not to do wrong rather than not to suffer wrong and so give his body over to him who has power to slay it, as did those three men who were compelled to worship the golden statue, when he who applied the compulsion threatened them with the fiery furnace if they did not comply. c They refused to worship the image; they did not cast them- selves into the fire, and yet it was written even of them that they yielded their bodies that they might not serve nor worship any god except their own God. a That is the sense in which the Apostle said, If I give my body to be burned.

Notice, however, what follows: If I have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. b To that charity you are summoned; by that charity you are withheld from perishing, and yet you think that to throw yourself headlong to destruction does to some degree profit you, although even if you suffered death at the hands of another person while you are still a foe to charity, that would profit you nothing; indeed, as long as you remain outside the Church and severed from the fabric of unity and the bond of charity, you would be punished with everlasting chastisement, even if you were burned alive for Christ's sake. That is what the Apostle means when he says, Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Bring back your mind, then, to sane reflection and sober thought; consider carefully whether it is to error and impiety that you are being summoned, and endure any troubles you like for truth's sake. But if you rather are living in error and in impiety, and truth and piety rather exist in the place to which you are summoned, for the reason that there are to be found Christian unity and the charity of the Holy Spirit, why do you keep on trying to be your own worst enemy?

It was with this end in view that God in His mercy provided your bishops and us with an opportunity of meeting at Carthage in a crowded and well-attended conference c and of reasoning together in the most orderly manner about this very question of separation. The minutes were written down; further, our signatures are on record. Read them, or have them read to you, and choose then which you prefer. I have heard you have stated that you could have some discussion with us about those minutes, if we leave out the words of your bishops, in which it is said, One case does not compromise another case, nor one person another person. a You want us to leave these words out, which truth itself spoke through them, though they knew it not. But you will say that in this point they were mistaken and through lack of foresight fell into a false opinion; we say that what they said was true, and we very easily prove this by referring to yourself. For if you refuse to allow those bishops of yours, chosen by the entire Donatist party to represent the whole body in such wise that whatever they did, the rest should take as satisfactory and acceptable, to prejudice your case by what you hold to be a rash and incorrect statement on their part, by this refusal you admit the truth of their statement that one case does not compromise another case, nor one person another person. And at this point you ought to grant that, if you refuse to allow the person of so many of your bishops as represented in those seven b to compromise the person of Donatus, priest of Mutugenna,a all the less ought the person of Caecilian, even if some degree of evil had been detected in him, to compromise Christian unity, which is not confined to the single village of Mutugenna, but is spread abroad throughout the world.

But see, we shall do as you have desired; we shall treat with you as if your bishops had not said, One case does not compromise another case, nor one person another person. Do you find out what they ought to have replied to that point, when the objection was made to them of the case and person of Primianus,b who although he joined the others in anathematizing those who had anathematized him, nevertheless received back with their former honours those whom he had anathematized and cursed, and chose rather to recognize and accept, than to abolish and breathe scorn upon,c the baptism given by dead men (for of them it was said in that famous decree a that the shores were full of dead men), and so gave a complete denial to that argument which you are wont to deduce from a wrong interpretation of the words, He that washeth himself after touching a dead body, what availeth his washing? b If then your bishops had not said, One case does not compromise another case, nor one person another person, they would have been held to share the guilt in the case of Primianus; but in making that assertion they secured the Catholic Church, as we contended, from any guilt in the case of Caecilian.

But read all the rest and examine it well. Notice whether they have succeeded in proving any evil against Caecilian himself, from whose person they attempted to compromise the Church; notice whether they have not rather achieved much in his favour and altogether confirmed the soundness of his case by the comparatively large number of extracts they produced and recited to the detriment of their own position. Read those, or have them read to you; consider the whole matter, give it a further careful investigation, and choose which you will follow, whether you will share our joy in the peace of Christ, in the unity of the Church Catholic, in brotherly affection, or, in the cause of wicked discord, the Donatist party and sacrilegious schism, will endure still further the importunity of our love for you.

I hear that you often quote and draw attention to the fact recorded in the Gospels that seventy disciples withdrew from the Lord and were left to their own choice in this wicked and undutiful desertion, and that to the other twelve who remained it was said, Will ye also go away? a But you neglect to draw attention to the fact that then the Church was just beginning to sprout with new shoots and that as yet that prophecy had not received fulfilment in her: All kings shall fall down before him, yea, all nations shall serve him b; it is in proportion to the more complete fulfilment of that prophecy that the Church enjoys greater authority, so that she not only invites, but actually compels, men to goodness. This is what our Lord intended in that incident to indicate, for although He possessed great authority, He chose rather to give the example of humility. This too He taught clearly enough in that parable of the feast, in which, after a message had been sent to the invited guests and they had refused to come, the servant was told, ' Go out into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in hither the poor and the maimed and the halt and the blind.' And the servant said to his lord, ' It is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room.' And the lord said to his servant,' Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.' c Just notice the phrase used of those who came first: bring them in, not the phrase, compel them to come in; that symbolized the incipient stage of the Church, still developing to the point where it would have the strength to compel men to it. Accordingly, since it was right that when it had grown stronger in power and extent men should actually be compelled to the feast of everlasting salvation, the words were afterwards added: It is done as thou hast commanded, and still there is room. And the lord said, ' Go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in.' Wherefore, if you were walking quietly outside this feast of the Church's holy unity, we should find you, so to speak, in the highways; but as it is, you are, so to say, full of thorns and sharpness, by reason of the many cruel sufferings you inflict on our people, so we find you, as it were, in the " hedges " and compel you to come in. He who is compelled is forced to go where he has no wish to go, but when he has come in, he partakes of the feast right willingly. So curb your hostile and rebellious spirit, that you may find the feast of salvation within the true Church of Christ.

I was young when I began my work on the Trinity,b the supreme, true God; I am old now when it is published. I had indeed abandoned the task, after learning that someone had stolen it from me or at least stolen a march on me before I could finish and revise it and give it the final touch I had intended. For I had decided not to publish the books separately but all together, for the reason that the later books are linked up with the earlier in a progressive inquiry.

Seeing, then, that my intention was prevented from being carried out because of those persons who were able to have access to some of the books before I wanted them to, I broke off my dictation and abandoned it, thinking to voice my complaint in some other work of mine, so as to let those who could, know that those same books were not published by me, but were taken out of my hands before they seemed to me fit for publication by me. But compelled by the most urgent demands of many of my brethren and most of all by your command, I have taken the trouble to bring to completion, with the help of God, a work on which I have expended so much effort, and now by our son and dear fellow-deacon I am sending them to your Grace, and handing them over for anyone to hear, read, or copy, corrected as well as I could, not as well as I would, in case they might differ too much from those copies which were stolen from me and are already in circulation. If I could have stuck to what I intended in them, they should have contained the same opinions, but should certainly have been much less obscure and more easy to read, as far as the difficulty of explaining such weighty matters and my own ability allowed it. Now there are some people who possess the first four or rather five books without the introductions and the twelfth without the last portion, which is of a fair length; but if this edition happens to come to their notice, they will be able to make all the corrections, if they have the wish and the ability. I beg you by all means to give instructions for the placing of this letter at the head of those books, but apart from them. Pray for me.

I would not for anything venture to cherish resentment that I have not been honoured with letters from your Holiness; for it is better for me to believe that you, my saintly lord and deservedly revered brother, were without anyone to convey them, than to harbour the suspicion that your Grace was scorning me. But now, as I have learned that Luke, the servant of God by whom I am sending this letter to you, is going to return very shortly, I shall give hearty thanks to the Lord and to your Benignity, if you have the kindness to visit me by letter. As for Pelagius, our brother and your son, to whom I hear you show much affection, I suggest that the affection you show him be such that the people who know him and have carefully listened to him may not imagine that your Holiness is being deceived by him.

Some of his disciples, indeed, young men of very noble birth and education in the liberal arts,b gave up their worldly prospects at his persuasion and betook themselves to the service of God. When, however, they gave evidence of certain theories at variance with sound doctrine as contained in the Gospel of the Saviour and declared in the words of the apostles—that is, when they were discovered to be arguing against the grace of God, by means of which we become Christians and in which we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith, a and were beginning to reject their errors under my strictures, they gave me a book which, they said, was by the same Pelagius, asking me instead to reply to him. After I saw that it was my duty to do so in order the more thoroughly to drive that wicked error from their hearts, I read it and composed an answer.

In that book he declares the grace of God to be only nature, in which we are created with free-will. As for that grace, however, which Holy Scripture commends to us in countless texts, teaching that it is by it that we are justified, that is, made just, and assisted, by God's mercy, in doing or completing every good work (as is shown too very clearly by the prayers of the holy, in which those things are sought from the Lord which have been enjoined by the Lord)—this grace, then, he not only passes over in silence, but advances many statements opposed to it. (For he asserts and urgently argues that through free-will alone human nature can be sufficient to do the works of righteousness and keep all God's commandments. From that anyone can see, on reading the same book, what an attack is made upon the grace of God, of which the apostle says, O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? The grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, b and how there is no place left for that divine assistance because of which it is our duty to say, when we pray, Lead us not into temptation c; further, the Lord seems to have had no reason for saying to the apostle Peter, I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not, a if all this receives its fulfilment in us without any help from God, but by the power of our will alone.

So these perverted and sacrilegious arguments not only give the lie to our prayers, in which we ask the Lord for anything that we read and believe that the holy have asked, but also are in conflict with the benediction we give, when over the people we utter the prayer and petition to God that He will make them to increase and abound in love one towards another and towards all men, b and grant them according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened with might by his Spirit, c and fill them with joy and peace in believing and make them to abound in hope and in the power of the Holy Spirit. d Why do we ask these things for them which we know the apostle asked from the Lord for the nations, if even now our nature, created with free-will, can provide all of them for itself by its own will? And why does this same apostle say too, For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God, e if we are led by the spirit of our nature to be made the sons of God? And why does he likewise say, The Spirit helpeth our infirmities, f if our nature is created such that it does not need any help from the Spirit to do the works of righteousness? And why does Scripture say, But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it, g if we have been created such that by the strength of our freewill we are able to overcome all temptations by simply enduring them?

Why need I dilate upon the point to your Holiness, when I already realize that I am wearying you, especially as you listen to my letter through an interpreter?a If you love Pelagius, may he too love you, or rather deceive himself and not you! For when you hear him confessing God's grace and God's help, you think he means the same as you do, who understand them in the light of the Catholic rule of faith, because you are unacquainted with what he has written in his book. For this reason I have sent the book itself and the reply I wrote to it; from these your Reverence may see what grace or help of God he speaks of, when the objection is made to him that he is speaking of something opposed to the grace and help of God. Open his eyes then by teaching and exhorting him and praying for the salvation he ought to have in Christ, so that he may confess that grace of God the saints are proved to have confessed, when they sought those things from the Lord which He commanded them to seek, for those things would have not been commanded unless to the end that our will should be revealed, nor would they be asked for, unless to the end that the weakness of our will should have the help of Him who commanded them.

Let the question be openly put to him whether he approves of praying the Lord that we fall not into sin. If he disapproves of it, let the apostle be read in his ears, in the words, Now I pray to God that ye do no evil b: but if he does approve of it, let him openly preach that grace which assists us, so that he himself may be kept from doing much evil. For it is by this grace of God through Jesus Christ our Lord that all those who are delivered, are delivered, since no one can be delivered in any other way than through it.

For that reason it is written, For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive, a not that no one will be damned, but that no one will be delivered in any other way; for just as all those who are children of men are so through Adam, so all those who are children of God are so through Christ. So all children of men are able to become such only through Adam, and all of them who have become children of God, only through Christ. Let him therefore openly express his views on this further point, whether he accepts the fact that even little children, who have not yet reached the stage of willing righteousness or of refusing it, yet because of one man, by whom sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned. b are delivered by the grace of Christ—whether even for them, because of original sin, he believes that the blood of Christ was shed, which was, to be sure, shed for the remission of sins. c About these points in particular I am anxious to know what he believes and holds, what he definitely confesses and preaches. In the other points, however, that are raised against him, even if he be proved to be in error, none the less until he accepts correction, it is more tolerable to bear with him.

Further, I beg you to have the kindness to send to me the minutes of the Church council d which declare him to be cleared of the charge of heresy. This I beg at the desire of many bishops who have, like me, been troubled by the indefinite rumour about this; I have written, however, asking this in my own name for the reason that I did not want to miss the opportunity of the messenger, who is in a position, I understand, to return to us speedily. In place of these minutes Pelagius has already sent us not indeed any portion of the minutes, but a kind of defence of himself, written by his own hand, in which he says he has answered the objections of the Gauls. a In it, to leave other matters out, he replied to the objection made to him that he had said man could live without sin and keep God's commandments if he wished to; his words are: I maintained that this power was conferred upon him by God; I did not maintain that any person would be found who had never committed a sin from his infancy to his old age, but that after turning from sin by his own effort and with the help of God's grace he can live without sin, and that the fact of having sinned does not prevent a man from turning from it at a future date.

In this reply of Pelagius your Reverence can discern that he has confessed that a man's earlier life, that is in infancy, is not without sin, but that he can be turned by his own effort, assisted by the grace of God, to the sinless life. Why then, in the book I have replied to, does he allege that Abel lived a life that was completely without sin? These are his words about this point: This can with justice be said of those of whose good deeds and evil deeds alike Scripture has no record; but it would assuredly have recorded the sins of those whose righteousness it records, if it had perceived that they had sinned at all. But granted, he says, that in other ages the great throng of men made Scripture neglect to weave an account of the sins of every one: right at the very beginning of the world, when there were only four people in existence, what reason, he asks, can we give for its failure to mention the sins of every one? Is it because of the great number of people? There was as yet nothing of the kind. Is it because it remembered only those who had committed sin, and was unable to remember the one who had not committed any? To be sure, he says. in the first age of the world there were Adam and Eve. from whom were born Cain and Abel—four people only are mentioned as existing. Eve sinned; the Scripture has revealed that to us; Adam also sinned: the same Scripture does not omit to mention it, and that Scripture has testified too that Cain sinned as well, and it points out not only their sins, but also the nature of their sins. If Abel too had sinned, that too would have been mentioned by Scripture; but it is not mentioned, so he did not sin. a

I have culled from his book these words, which your Holiness will be able to find in the volume itself, so that you may understand what manner of credence you should afford him when he denies the other points as well; unless perhaps he says that Abel himself committed no sin, but that he was not therefore without sin and could not therefore bear comparison with the Lord. Who alone in mortal flesh was without sin, since in Abel there was original sin inherited from Adam, not committed by himself in his own person (I wish he would at least make this assertion, so that we might for the present obtain from him a definite expression of opinion about infant baptism); or unless he says perhaps, since he has used the words from infancy to old age, that Abel did not sin because he is shown not to have lived to old age. This is not what his words indicate: he said that from the beginning the earlier period of life was given to sin, but that the later could be sinless; for he declares he did not state that anyone would be found who from infancy to old age had not committed sin, but that after turning from sin by his own effort and with the help of God's grace, he could live without sin. For when he says turning from sin, he shows that the earlier part of life was lived in sin. Let him then admit that Abel did sin, since his early life was lived in the world, and it, according to his admission, is not without sin; and let him take another look at his own book, where it is quite plain he did make the statement which in this defence he denies having made. a

But if he asserts that this book, or this passage in the book, is not from his pen, I on my side have adequate witnesses, men of honour and reliability and undoubted friends of his own, and I can acquit myself by their testimony that they handed this same book to me containing that sentence and that they declared it was from the pen of Pelagius; that evidence at any rate is sufficient to deter anyone from saying that it was written or fabricated by me. Now among these let each man choose whom to believe. It is not my business to discuss the matter at any greater length. I ask you to convey to him by a sure hand, if he denies that those are his opinions, the points to which objection is taken as being in conflict with the grace of Christ. So plausible is his defence, indeed, that we shall rejoice with exceeding joy if he has not deceived your wise Holiness, unacquainted as you are with his other writings, by any ambiguous statement. For the rest we care not overmuch whether those perverted and impious opinions were never his, or if at last he has renounced them.

I had already written my reply to your Charity, but when I was looking for an opportunity of transmitting my letter, my beloved son Faustus arrived on his way to your Excellency. After receiving the letter which I had already composed for conveyance to your Benevolence, he intimated to me your strong desire that I should write something to you that would build you up unto that eternal salvation of which your confidence is in Christ Jesus our Lord. And although I was busily occupied, he urged me with that instancy which, as you know, is proportioned to his affection for you, not to postpone the writing of it. To meet his haste, then, I have chosen rather to write something in haste than to keep your holy desire in suspense, my noble and justly distinguished lord and honourable son.

All then that lean say in the short time I have is this:

Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy strength, and love thy neighbour as thyself. a These are the words in which the Lord while upon earth summed up everything, saying in the Gospel: On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. b In this love therefore make daily progress by both prayer and good deeds, so that by the help of Him who enjoined it upon you and granted you to possess it, it may find nourishment and increase, until being perfect it makes you perfect. For that is the love which, in the words of the apostle. is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us c; it is that love which he also describes as the fulfilling of the law d; it is that by which faith worketh, of which he says again, Neither circumcision availeth anything nor uncircumcision, but faith, which worketh by love. e

In this love all our holy fathers and patriarchs and prophets and apostles pleased God; in it all true martyrs contended against the devil even unto blood,f and because in them it neither waxed cold nor failed, they won the day; in it all good believers make daily progress, seeking to attain not unto an earthly kingdom, but unto the kingdom of heaven, not unto a temporal, but unto an eternal inheritance,g not unto gold and silver, but unto the incorruptible riches of the angels, not unto any of this world's good things, which make life full of fear and which no one can take with him when he dies, but unto the vision of God. h His sweetness and delight transcend all beauty of form not only in earthly things, but even in heavenly, transcend all loveliness of souls however righteous and holy, transcend all the comeliness of angels and powers above, transcend not only everything that language can express about Him, but also everything that the mind can imagine. And let us not despair of the fulfilment of a promise so great, since it is great indeed, but rather let us have faith that we shall obtain it, since He is great Who made the promise; as the blessed John the apostle says, Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. a

Do not think that it is impossible for anyone to please God while engaged in military service. Among such was the holy David, to whom the Lord gave so great a testimony, and among such were also many righteous men of that dispensation; among such too was that centurion who said to the Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest come under my roof, but speak the word only and my servant shall be healed; for I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me, and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth, and to another, Come, and he cometh, and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it, and of whom the Lord said, Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. b Among such too was that Cornelius to whom an angel said, Cornelius, thine alms are accepted, and thy prayers are heard, c by which words he signified that he should send to the blessed apostle Peter and hear from him what he should do; to which apostle he sent a godly soldier, asking him to visit him. Among such too were those who came to be baptized by John, the holy forerunner of the Lord and the friend of the bridegroom, about whom the Lord Himself said, Among them that are born of women there hath not arisen a greater than John the Baptist d; they asked of him what they should do, and he made answer to them: Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely, and be content with your wages. a To be sure, when he commanded them to be content with their military wages, he did not forbid them to serve as soldiers.

They have a greater place before God, who abandon all these worldly employments to serve him with the strictest self-discipline and chastity; but everyone, as the apostle says, hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner and another after that. b There are some, then, who by praying for you fight against your invisible foes, while you by fighting for them are striving against the visible barbarians. Would that there were one faith in all, for there would be less of striving and the devil with his angels would be more easily overcome! But as it is necessary in this world that the citizens of the kingdom of heaven should be harassed by temptations among erring and irreverent men so that they may be exercised and tried as gold in the furnace,c we ought not before the appointed time to desire to live with the saints and righteous alone, so that we may deserve to receive this blessedness in its own due time.

Think, then, of this point first of all when you are arming for battle, that your strength, even that of the body, is a gift from God; in this way you will not think of using God's gift against God. For when faith is pledged, it is to be kept even with the enemy against whom you are waging war; how much more with the friend, for whose sake you are fighting! You ought to have peace as the object of your choice and war only as the result of necessity, so that God may deliver you from the necessity and preserve you in peace; for peace is not sought in order that war may be aroused, but war is waged in order that peace may be obtained. So then be a peace-maker even when warring, that by overcoming those whom you conquer, you may bring them to the advantages of peace, for blessed are the peace-makers, says the Lord, for they shall be called the children of God. a Yet if human peace is so sweet for procuring the temporal salvation of men, how much sweeter is peace with God for procuring the eternal salvation of the angels! So let it be your necessity and not your choice that slays the enemy who is fighting against you. Just as violence is the portion of him who rebels and resists, so mercy is the due of him who has been conquered or captured, especially when a disturbance of the peace is not to be feared.

Let your character be adorned by chastity in the marriage-bond, adorned by sobriety and moderation, for it is a very disgraceful thing that lust should overcome one whom man finds unconquerable, and that wine should overwhelm one whom the sword assails in vain. If you lack earthly riches, let them not be sought in the world by evil works; but if you possess them, let them be laid up in heaven by good works. The manly Christian spirit ought neither to be elated by their accession nor depressed by their departure. Let us rather keep in mind what the Lord says, Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also, b and certainly when we hear the exhortation to lift up our hearts, we ought unfeignedly to make the response which you know we do make. c

In such matters as this, however, I know that you are very zealous, and I take great delight in your reputation and greatly congratulate you in the Lord upon it. This letter, then, may rather serve as a mirror to you, in which you can behold what manner of man you are, rather than as a lesson to you what manner of man you ought to be. And yet, whatever you find either in this letter or in Holy Scripture that you still lack for a good life, be instant in prayer and in deeds, so that you may acquire it; and from what you have, render thanks to God as the fount of goodness, from Whom you have received it, and in all your good deeds ascribe the glory to God and the humility to yourself, for, as it is written, Every good and perfect gift is from above and cometh down from the Father of lights. a Yet whatever progress you make in the love of God and of your neighbour and in genuine godliness, do not imagine that you are without sin, as long as you are in this life, concerning which we read in Holy Writ, Is not the life of man upon earth a life of temptation? b And so, since it is necessary for you, as long as you are in this body, always to say in prayer what the Lord taught us, Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, c remember quickly to forgive anyone who has sinned against you and has asked for pardon, so that you may be able to pray with sincerity and succeed in obtaining pardon for your own sins.

I have written these exhortations to you, my dear friend, in haste, as the haste of the bearer compelled me, but I render thanks to God that I have in some degree been able to comply with your holy desire. May the mercy of God always be your protection, my noble lord and deservedly distinguished and honourable son!

Since the letter your Grace sent by the hands of our holy brother, the priest Firmus, reached Hippo during my absence, and on my return I had the chance to read it only after the bearer of it had taken his departure, this first opportunity of replying (and it is a very welcome one too) is afforded by our well-beloved son, the acolyte Albinus. b Your letter, addressed to Alypius and myself together, came at a time when we were not together, so in consequence you receive a letter from each of us, not one in the common name of us both, for the bearer of this letter, having left me, will on his way pass by my revered brother and fellow-bishop, Alypius, so that he may write one for himself in reply to your Holiness; that letter of yours, after reading it, I sent on to him by the same bearer. As for the great joy with which your letter filled me, why should one attempt to utter feelings that defy utterance? Indeed, I am not sure that you have any adequate conception yourself of the amount of good you have done to us in writing as you did, but take our word for it; for just as you can bear witness to your own soul, so we can to ours, of the extent to which we have been moved by the very transparent sincerity of your letter. For if we transcribed with exulting joy and with great fervour read to all we could that very short letter of yours on this same problem that you sent by the acolyte Leo a to our most saintly Senior, Aurelius—a letter in which you expounded to us your views about that most pernicious doctrine, and, on the other hand, about the grace of God bestowed by Him upon small and great, to which that doctrine is violently opposed,—how great do you think was the exultation with which we read that lengthier statement from your pen, and how great the care with which we have had it read by all we could offer it to and can still offer it to? For what more welcome document could be read or heard than so faultless a defence of the grace of God against its enemies, uttered by one whom those same enemies boasted of as an influential supporter of their cause? Or is there anything that should make us more abundantly grateful to God than this, that His grace is so well defended by those to whom it is given, against those to whom it is either not given or by whom it is so ungraciously received when given, since by the secret and righteous judgement of God it is not given them to accept it graciously?

Wherefore, my venerable lord and holy brother cherished in the love of Christ, although you do an excellent service in writing on this question to the brethren before whom its supporters are in the habit of boasting of your friendship, yet this larger duty awaits you of not only having punishment of wholesome severity administered to those who dare with over-much freedom to rave about that error which is such a dangerous challenge to the name of Christ, but also for the sake of the Lord's weaker and more simple-minded sheep of employing with all the vigilance of a pastor the most careful safeguards against those who, though in a stealthier and more covert manner, still do not cease to whisper it, creeping into houses, a as the apostle says, and with practised ungodliness doing the other things that he goes on to mention. Nor should those be overlooked who under the restraint of fear conceal their opinions under the deepest silence, but yet do not cease to cherish the same perverted opinions. Some, indeed, of their party may have attracted your attention before that pestilence was denounced by the most explicit condemnation of the Apostolic See itself, and may now, as you can see, have suddenly become silent, so that it is impossible to ascertain whether they have been cured of it unless they not only refrain from uttering those false doctrines, but actually take up the defence of the contrary doctrines with the same fervour they showed in propounding error. These, however, surely call for milder treatment: what need is there to terrify them, when their very silence shows that they are terrified enough? At the same time, they are not to be passed over and spared remedial attention, as though they were quite sound, because their sore is hidden. For while they are not to be terrified, yet they ought to be taught, and, in my opinion, this process is easier while the fear they have of severe measures assists him who teaches them the truth. In this way, after they have learned through the Lord's assistance to understand and love His grace, they may by their utterance refute the errors which they no longer dare to utter.

I was far away when the clerk Projectus brought the letters your Holiness sent to me at Hippo, yet as soon as I returned and read them and realized that I was in your debt, I was awaiting a chance of paying my debt, when lo! the unexpected departure from us of our well-beloved brother, the acolyte Albinus, has provided a most welcome opportunity. Rejoicing, therefore, in your good health, which is the object of my earnest desire, I return your Holiness the salutation I was owing you. But I always owe you love, the only debt which, after being repaid, still keeps one a debtor. For it is repaid when it is expended, but is still owing even if it has been repaid, since there is no time when it does not require to be expended. Nor is it lost when it is repaid, but rather by repayment it is multiplied, for it is repaid by retaining it, not by getting quit of it. And since it cannot be repaid unless it be retained, so it cannot be retained unless it be repaid—nay rather, when a man repays it, it increases in him, and the more lavishly he expends it, the more of it he gains. But how can that be refused to friends which is owing even to enemies? To enemies, however, it is paid out with hesitation, while to friends it is paid back with confidence. Nevertheless, it makes every possible effort to recover what it has expended, even from those to whom it renders good for evil. For we desire to have as a friend the man whom we truly love as an enemy, because we do not love him unless we wish him good, and that cannot be the case unless he gives up the evil of enmity. a

Love, then, is not expended like money, for in addition to the fact that money is diminished by expenditure and love is increased, they differ in this too, that we give greater evidence of good-will towards anyone if we do not seek the return of money we have given him; whereas no one can sincerely expend love unless he tenderly insist on being repaid; for when money is received, it is so much gain to the recipient but so much loss to the donor; love, on the other hand, is not only augmented in the man who demands it back from the person he loves, even when he does not receive it, but the person who returns it actually begins to possess it only when he pays it back.

Wherefore, my lord and brother, I willingly repay to you, and gladly receive back from you, the love we owe each other, and that which I receive back, I still claim; that which I repay, I still owe. For it is our duty in all teachableness to hearken to our one Master, before Whom we are fellow-pupils, when He speaks through His apostle and bids us owe no man anything but to love one another. a

I have long been disappointed that, after writing several times, I have not had the honour of receiving any reply from your Excellency. Now quite unexpectedly I have received three letters from your Benignity, one of them, not exclusively to me, by the hands of my fellow-bishop Vindemialis,c and not long afterwards two by the hands of my fellow-priest Firmus. d That holy man, with whom I have ties of the most intimate and affectionate nature, as you may have heard from him, talked at length to me about your Excellency and gave me such a true conception of you, as he found you in the tender mercies of Christ, e that he outdid not only the letters brought to me by the afore-mentioned bishop or by himself, but even those I was complaining of not receiving. And his account of you was all the more pleasant in that he told me those things which, for fear of becoming addicted to singing your own praises (which Holy Scripture forbids a), you yourself cannot write back tome even when I pointedly ask them. In fact I myself am afraid to compliment you on them when I write to you, my distinguished and justly renowned lord and well-beloved son in the love of Christ, in case I incur the suspicion of flattering you.

So you can just imagine what a pleasure and delight it was to me to hear your praises in Christ, or rather the praises of Christ in you, from one whose own truthfulness prevents him from deceiving me and whose friendship with you provides him with a knowledge of them. Yet others too have furnished me with other information, which though not so full or so sure, was still worth hearing: how sound and catholic your faith is, how godly your hope of the world to come, what love you have towards God and towards the brethren, how humble-minded you are amid your high honours, and how your hope is not placed in the uncertainty of riches but in the living God,b how abounding you are in good works, and what a rest and consolation your home is to the holy and what a terror to the ungodly, what zeal you exhibit to keep any who skulk under the cloak of the name of Christ, whether they be His old or His newer enemies, from laying snares for the members of Christ; and yet how-careful you are to procure the salvation of these same enemies, while opposing their errors. These and such-like things, as I said, I am in the habit of hearing from others too, but now I have had much fuller and surer testimony to them through the above-mentioned brother.

Further, about your conjugal continence, what information could I have to be in a position to praise and love that too in you, save from someone intimately familiar with you, who knew your life not on the surface, but within? So, since you are thus, by God's blessing, good possessing,a I too take pleasure in talking with you more intimately and at rather greater length. I know I shall not weary you if I send you something comprehensive, the reading of which will keep you all the longer in my company. For I have learned too that among your many arduous duties you are ready and glad to read my little books, and take considerable delight in them, when they happen to come into your hands, even if they are addressed to others; how much greater should be your pleasure in receiving one addressed to yourself, in which I speak to you as though you were present, and how much more thorough the attention you kindly bestow upon it! From this letter, then, pass on to the book that accompanies it; why it was written and why it was especially sent to you, your Reverence will more conveniently find out from the opening chapter.

I have received your Excellency's letter, in which you ask me to write to you. This you would not desire, did you not believe that what you thought I would write to you would be acceptable and pleasant

—in other words, if you longed for the vanities of this world while they were unknown to you, you scorn them now they are known, for the charm in them is illusory, the toil unrewarded, the anxiety unremitting, the uplifting dangerous; man seeks them at first without reflection and abandons them at last with remorse. So it is with all the things that are sought in the tribulation of this mortal life with more eagerness than reflection, but it is far different with the hope of the godly; different with the reward of their toil, different too with the outcome of their perils. For in this world fear and grief, toil and peril, are unavoidable, but it is of the utmost importance for what cause, with what hope, and to what end a man endures those things. For my part, when I look upon those who love this world, I know not at what moment wisdom can most opportunely undertake the healing of their souls, for when things apparently are prosperous with them, they scornfully disdain her wholesome warnings and deem them but a kind of old wives' song; but when they are in the pangs of adversity, they rather think of escaping the source of their present pangs than of seizing the things that may provide a cure and a haven of refuge, in which their pangs will be completely prevented. At times, however (though these are less frequent in prosperity and more frequent in adversity), some of them turn the ears of their heart a to apply them to the truth, yet these are few, for so it was foretold. b Among them I desire you to be, my noble and most distinguished lord and son much longed for, because I love you truly. Let this counsel to you be my answer to your letter, for, though I should not wish you to endure henceforward such sufferings as you have endured in the past, my wish is yet greater that you may not have endured them without some change of your life for the better.

First of all I pay my tribute of congratulation to your merits that the Lord our God has placed you in that apostolic chair with (as we are informed) no division among His people. In the next place, I lay before your Holiness the state of affairs with us,-so that you may come to our assistance not only by praying for us, but also by giving us your counsel and assistance,c for I am writing to your Holiness under deep affliction: by my lack of foresight and caution I have brought a great disaster upon certain members of Christ in our neighbourhood, though I had intended only their benefit.

Fussala d is the name of a small town not far from the district of Hippo; formerly there was never a bishop there, but along with the adjoining country it belonged to the diocese a of the church of Hippo. Of Catholics that region had but few; all the other congregations there, located among a fairly dense population, were under the wretched influence of the Donatist error, so that in this town there was no Catholic at all. In the mercy of God it came about that all those districts became attached to the unity of the Church; it would take too long to tell you what toil and danger that involved us in, such that the priests there, who were originally appointed by us to gather them b together, were robbed,beaten,maimed,blinded, and killed; yet their sufferings were not ineffectual or unfruitful, for by them unity was there securely achieved. But since the aforesaid town is forty miles distant from Hippo, and in the superintendence of the people and the gathering together of the remnants, however small, of the wandering bands, composed of both sexes, who were no longer threatening others but fleeing for their own safety, I saw myself drawn farther afield than was fitting, and unable to exercise that careful oversight which I perceived and was thoroughly convinced should be exercised, I arranged that a bishop should be ordained and appointed there.

For this purpose I needed a man fitted and suitable for the place, one, too, possessing a knowledge of Punic, and I had in my mind a priest ready for the post, for whose ordination I wrote asking the holy Senior who at the time held the office of Primate of Numidia to make the long journey to us, and he agreed. When he was already with us and the minds of all were exalted in expectation of the solemn cere- mony, at the last minute a the man who had appeared to me to be ready left me in the lurch by absolutely opposing our plans. As the event proved, I ought certainly to have postponed a matter fraught with such dangers, instead of hurrying it on; however, not wanting the very eminent and holy Senior, after being at the trouble of coming all the way to us, to go back home without accomplishing the purpose for which he had made such a long journey, I put forward, without waiting to be asked, a certain young man Antoninus, who was with me at the time. He had been brought up by me in the monastery from his earliest years, but beyond holding the office of reader, he had no experience of any of the ranks or labours of clerical life; yet those unfortunate people, not knowing what lay before them, very dutifully acquiesced in my offer of him. Why say more? The deed was done; he began his career as their bishop. b

What am I to do? I do not want to charge before your Reverence one whom I gathered in and fostered, nor do I want to abandon those for whose in-gathering I travailed with anxiety and pain; and how I am to do both I cannot discover. The matter has indeed come to such a scandalous pass that those who yielded to my wish to have him undertake episcopal office, in the belief that it was to their own best interest, have approached me here and laid charges against him. Among these charges the most serious offence of gross immorality made against him, not by those over whom he was bishop, but by certain others, was found to be quite unproved, and, apparently cleared of the most malicious of the imputations made against him, he was reduced to what we and others thought such a pitiful state that whatever complaint the town's-people and those of the district made about his intolerable tyranny, his rapacity and oppression and abuses of various kinds, seemed to me by no means so grievous that, because of it or of all of them put together, we should reckon it necessary to deprive him of his office as bishop; it seemed enough to make him restore the things that were proved to have been taken away.

In short. I so tempered my judgement with mercy that he was not deprived of office, although his faults were yet not left altogether unpunished; they were not of a kind either to be repeated by him in the future or held up to others as a model. In correcting the young man, we therefore left him his rank unimpaired, but as a punishment we limited his authority, so that he should no longer be over those whom he had treated in such a way that from justified resentment it might have been impossible for them to endure having him over them at all; they might perhaps show their impatience and resentment by breaking out into some misdeed fraught with danger to themselves and to him. That this was the state of their mind even at the time when the bishops were discussing his case with them appeared very clearly, although by now the eminent Celer,a of whose very influential interference against him he complained, exercises no authority either in Africa or anywhere else.

But why make a long story of it? I beseech you to lend me your assistance, my saintly lord venerable for your piety and holy father revered with all due affection, and give orders that all the documents sent you be read to you. See how he conducted himself in his office as bishop, how, when deprived of communion until after everything had been restored to the people of Fussala, he so far accepted our decision, then later set aside a sum in compensation for the things, quite apart from the legal decision, so that he might regain the privilege of communion; see too with what crafty persuasion he led the holy Senior, that very excellent man our Primate, to believe all his statements and to recommend him to the revered Pope Boniface as one in every way blameless. What need is there for me to rehearse all the rest, since the venerable Senior afore-mentioned will have reported the affair to your Holiness in all its details?

From the numerous minutes, however, that contain our judgement upon him, I should rather fear to appear to you less severe in judging him than I ought to have been, if I did not know that you are so prone to mercy as to reckon it your duty to spare the man himself and us as well for sparing him. But what we did, either from kindness or from carelessness, he is now trying to turn to account and employ as a legal objection. His cry is, Either I ought to be sitting in my own episcopal chair or else I ought not to be a bishop at all, as if he were now sitting in any chair a but his own. For it was for this very reason that those districts in which he was bishop before were set apart and set under his care that he might not be said to have been illegally transferred to another see contrary to the statutes of the Fathers. a Or should anyone be so extreme an advocate of severity or of gentleness as either to exact absolutely no punishment from those who do not seem to merit deprivation of the honour of the bishop's office, or on the other hand to deprive of the honour of that office those who have been judged to deserve some punishment? b

There are on record among the judgements given by the Apostolic See itself, or its confirmations of the judgements of others, precedents for not depriving certain bishops, tried for certain offences, of their episcopal rank, and yet for not leaving them altogether unpunished. Not to seek out examples that are far from our own day, I shall mention some of recent date. Hear the protest of Priscus,c a bishop of the province of Caesarea d: Either the office of Primate ought to be open to me too. or else I ought not to retain my episcopal office. Let the protest be heard of another bishop of the same province, Victor, who when left in the same fault as Priscus, is not allowed to receive communion from any bishop unless within his own diocese—let his protest, I repeat, be heard: Either I ought to communicate anywhere, or else I ought not to communicate even in my own district. Let the protest be heard of a third bishop of the same province, Laurentius, and heard indeed in the very words of Antoninus: Either I ought to sit in the see to which I was ordained, or else I ought not to be a bishop at all. But who would find fault with those sentences, except one who does not reflect that, on the one hand, all these offences must not be left unpunished, and on the other, that they are not all to be punished in the same way?

In his letter about Antoninus, addressed to his bishop, the saintly Pope Boniface, with the vigilance and caution of a true pastor, put the words, Provided that he has faithfully revealed the sequence of events to us. So now accept this statement of the sequence of events which he in his memorandum passed over in silence, and further, of what happened after the letter of that man of blessed memory was read in Africa; do you come to the aid of men who implore your aid in Christ's mercy more earnestly than did he, from whose harassment they seek deliverance. For threats are being made to the people, either by Antoninus himself or by oft-repeated rumours,a of legal processes and public officials and military attacks that are to enforce the decision of the Apostolic See: in consequence, those unfortunate people, though Catholic Christians, are in dread of heavier punishment from a Catholic bishop than what they feared from the laws of Catholic emperors when they were heretics. Do not let that be so, I implore you by the blood of Christ, by the memory of the apostle Peter who warned those placed in authority over Christian peoples not to lord it over their brethren. b For myself, I commend to the gracious love of your Holiness both the Catholics of Fussala, my children in Christ, and bishop Antoninus, my son in Christ, for both are dear to me. And I do not blame the people of Fussala for pouring into your ears their just complaint against me that I imposed upon them a man whom I had not tested and who was, in age at least, immature, to cause them such afflictions; nor do I wish any harm to Antoninus, whose vile greed I oppose all the more stubbornly because I hold him in such genuine affection. Let your compassion be extended to both—to them, so that they may suffer no harm, to him, that he may do none; to them, so that they may not hate the Catholic Church,a if Catholic bishops and especially the Apostolic See itself fail to come to their defence against a Catholic bishop; to him, so that he may not involve himself in such great wickedness as to alienate from Christ those whom he is striving to win for Him against their will.

As for myself, however, I must confess to your

Holiness that in the danger that threatens both I am racked by such great fear and grief that I contemplate retiring from the responsibility of carrying on my episcopal office and giving myself over to lamentation befitting my fault, if I see the Church of God despoiled through one whose election as bishop I supported through lack of foresight and even (which may God forbid) brought to destruction along with the destruction of the despoiler himself. For in remembrance of the Apostle's words, If we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged by the Lord, b I shall judge myself, so that I may be spared by Him Who shall judge the quick and the dead. c But if you secure the recovery of the members of Christ in that district from their deadly fear and sorrow and at the same time comfort my old age by administering justice tempered with mercy, He Who through you brings us deliverance in this trial and Who has set you in your See will recompense unto you good for good, both in this life and in the life to come.

The Lord is good 0 and everywhere His mercy is shed abroad, which comforts us with your love in Him. How greatly He loves those who believe and hope in Him and who love both Him and one another, and what blessings He stores up for them to enjoy hereafter, He shows most of all by this, that upon the unbelieving and the abandoned and the perverse, whom He threatens with eternal fire in company with the devil if they persist in their evil disposition unto the end,c He nevertheless in this present world bestows so many benefits, making His sun to rise on the evil and on the good and sending rain on the just and on the unjust. d That is a brief sentence, meant to suggest further thoughts to the mind, for who can count up how many benefits and unearned gifts the wicked receive in this life from Him whom they despise? Among these is this great blessing, that by the instances of intermingled tribulation with winch, like a good physician, He blends the charm of this world, He warns them, if they but pay heed, to flee from the wrath to come a and to agree, while they are in the way b (that is, in this life) with the word of God, which by their wicked lives they have made their adversary What, then,is not sent to men by the Lord God in His compassion, when even tribulation is a blessing sent by Him? For prosperity is God's gift when He comforts us, while adversity is God's gift when He is warning us. And if, as I said, He furnishes these even to the wicked, what does He prepare for those who wait for Him c? Among this number rejoice ye that by His grace you have been gathered, forbearing one another in love, endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. d For there will not fail to be occasion for your bearing with one another, until the Lord has borne you hence and " death is swallowed up in victory " and God shall be all in all. e

Yet in strife we ought never to take pleasure, though from time to time it is either born of love or puts love to the test. For who is easily found that is willing to endure reproof? And, what about f that wise man of whom it is said, Rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee g? Surely then we ought not to refrain from reproving and correcting a brother in case he go down to death in false security? It is a usual experience and a common occurrence for one who is reproved to be mortified at the time a and to wrangle and be recalcitrant, yet afterwards to reflect within himself b in silence, alone with God, where he is not afraid of displeasing men by being reproved, but is afraid to displease God by refusing correction, and thenceforward to refrain from doing the thing for which he was justly rebuked, and in proportion as he hates his sin, to love the brother whom he realizes to have been the enemy of his sin. But if he belongs to the number of those of whom it is written, Rebuke a fool and he will go on to hate thee, c the contention is not born of his love, but yet it tries and tests the love of his reprover, since he does not repay hatred with hatred, but the love which prompted his rebuke endures undisturbed, even when he who was rebuked requites it with hatred. If the reprover, however, choose to render evil for evil to the man who takes offence at being reproved, he was not fit to reprove another, but clearly fit to be reproved himself. Act upon these principles, so that occasions of provocation may either not arise among you, or, when they do occur, be immediately quenched in speedy peace. Strive more earnestly to disseminate harmony among yourselves than to encourage fault-finding, for just as vinegar corrodes a vessel if it remain too long in it, so anger corrodes the heart if it linger on to another day. d These things, therefore, do, and the God of peace shall be with you. e At the same time pray for us, that we may with cheerful mind carry out the good advice we have given you.

Just as severity is ready to punish the sins it discovers, so love is anxious not to discover sins to punish. That was the motive which withheld me from coming to you, when you besought my presence, not to rejoice in your peacefulness, but to increase your strife. For how could I have made light of your wrangling or left it unpunished, if even in my presence it had arisen to the same pitch as that which in my absence, though it was hidden from my eyes, yet assailed my ears with your clamour? Perhaps your rebelliousness would have been even greater in my presence, which it was necessary for me to withhold from you since you were demanding, to the detriment of sound discipline, things inexpedient for you and furnishing a most dangerous precedent. Thus I should not have found you such as I desire, and you would have found me such as you did not desire.

The Apostle writes to the Corinthians and says, I call God for a record upon my soul, that to spare you I came not as yet unto Corinth. Not for that we have dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your joy. a I too say the same to you: to spare you I came not unto you; further, I spared myself, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow b from you, and preferred not to show my face before you but to pour out my heart to God for your behoof and to conduct this perilous case of yours, not by speech before you, but rather by tears before God,c lest He turn to mourning the joy wherewith I am wont to rejoice in you and to find some little comfort, amid the great offences with which this world everywhere abounds, in the remembrance of your large community and your chaste love and holy conversation and the more abundant grace of God that has been given you, whereby you have not only renounced carnal wedlock, but have also chosen to dwell with one accord in fellowship together under the same roof, to have " one soul and one heart " unto God. d

When I consider these excellences you show, which God did bestow, my heart is wont to find some sort of peace amid the many storms that arise through evils elsewhere to agitate it. Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth? This persuasion cometh not of God that called you. A little leaven e—what follows I prefer to leave unsaid, for it is rather my desire and prayer and exhortation that the leaven itself may return to something better, not that " the whole lump " may turn (as it had almost done already) to something worse. If then you have blossomed again into soundness of mind, pray that ye enter not into temptation, f nor fall once more into debates, envyings, wraths, strifes, backbitings, tumults, whisperings. g For we did not so plant and water the garden of the Lord among you as to reap these thorns from you a; yet if your weakness still causes turmoil, pray to be delivered from temptation. Yet unless those sisters that trouble your peace reform b (if they still trouble it), they shall bear their judgement, whosoever they be. c

Consider what an evil thing it is that we should have to bewail internal discords in your monastery, when we are rejoicing over the Donatists d in unity. Be steadfast in the good purpose you have set before you and you will not desire to change your superior; steadfastly abiding in that monastery for so many years, she begot you not of the body, but of the soul, and you have grown both in numbers and in age. All of you, when you came to it, found her either doing service that was well-pleasing to the holy superior my sister, or else acting as superior herself and adopting you. Under her you received your training, under her you took the veil, under her you have been increased; and yet you demand with all this clamour that we should replace her for you, when you ought to be lamenting if we proposed to replace her for you. She is the one you have learned to know; she is the one to whom at first you came; she is the one under whom for so many years you have grown. No new official has been given you except the priest-superior; or if it be because of him that you seek some new thing and through jealousy for him that you have thus rebelled against your mother, why did you not rather ask to have him changed for you? But if you shrink from that (since I know with what reverence and affection you regard him in Christ), why not the more shrink from the other course? For in ruling you the efforts of the priest-superior are so thwarted by your dis-orderliness, that he himself is the rather minded to abandon you than to endure such an invidious reputation from you as to have it said that you would not have demanded another mother-superior, if you had not begun to have him as priest-superior. May God then calm and compose your hearts! May the work of the devil not gain the upper hand within you,a but may the peace of Christ rule in your hearts b! And do not rush headlong unto death, either from mortification that your desire is not granted or from the shame that you experience from desiring what you ought not to have desired. Rather by repentance renew your salvation, nor ought it to be the repentance of Judas the betrayer,c but rather the tears of Peter the shepherd. d

These are the rules we lay down for your observance, who have entered upon monastic life. e

Firstly, to fulfil the end for which you have gathered into one community, dwell together in the house as single-minded sisters, and have one mind and one heart f towards God. And call not anything your own, but let everything be common property; and let there be a distribution made to each of you by your superior of food and raiment, not in equal portions to all, since you are not all of equal importance, but to each one according as she has need. For in the Acts of the Apostles you read that they had all things common, and distribution was made to every man according as he had need. a Let those of you who had any possessions in the world before you entered the monastery willingly consent that they become common property; let those, on the other hand, who had none, not seek in the monastery for things they could not have outside it, but yet let what is needful be conceded to their weakness, even if their poverty, while they were outside, was such that they could not procure even the bare necessities of life. Nevertheless, let them not think themselves fortunate only because they have procured such food and raiment as they were unable to procure outside.

And let them not go about with head erect because they are associating with those whom they did not dare to approach outside, but let them lift up their hearts and not seek earthly goods, in case the monasteries become of service to the rich and not to the poor, while in them the rich are bowed down with humility and the poor in them puffed up with vanity. But again, let not those who in the world considered themselves something, hold in scorn their sisters who have come to that holy fellowship from poverty b; let them endeavour to take greater pride in the fellowship of their poor sisters than in the rank of their wealthy parents. And let them not exalt themselves, if they have made some contribution from their own resources to the common life, lest they grow more vain of their wealth because they are sharing it with the monastery, than if they were enjoying the use of it in the world; for every other kind of iniquity prompts the doing of evil deeds, but pride lurks even in good deeds to their undoing. And what does it avail to scatter wealth in alms to the poor and to become poor oneself, when the wretched soul is rendered prouder by despising wealth than it was by possessing it? Live, then, all of you, in singlemindedness and harmony, and in each other honour God, Whose temples you have become. a

Be instant in prayer b at the appointed hours and seasons. In the oratory let no one do anything but that for which it was made and from which it received its name, so that if any of you have leisure and wish to pray outside the appointed hours, you may not be hindered by others who think they should be doing something else in it. When you pray to God with psalms and hymns, meditate in your heart upon that which you utter with your voice, and do not sing anything unless what you read is to be sung; what is not written to be sung, is not to be sung.

Subdue your flesh by fasting and abstinence from meat and drink, as far as the health allows. When, however, anyone is unable to fast, let her not take any nourishment outside of the hour of repast, unless when ill. From the time of your coming to table until you rise from it, hearken without din and wrangling to what according to the custom is read to you; let not your mouths alone take food, but let your ears too hunger for the word of God.

If those who are of weaker health from their former mode of life are treated differently with regard to food, this ought not to be vexatious or to seem unfair to others whom a different mode of life has made stronger. And let them not imagine these weaker sisters more fortunate than themselves because they enjoy a fare which is denied to themselves, but let them rather congratulate themselves that they have strength which is denied to the others. And if they who have come to the monastery from a more delicate upbringing are granted any food, clothing, bedding, or covering, that is not granted to others who are stronger and therefore more fortunate, those to whom it is not granted should consider how great a descent the others have made from their sphere of life in the world to this one. even although they have been unable to attain to the severe simplicity of those who are stronger in body. Nor should they hanker after what they see others receiving (not as a mark of higher favour, but as a mark of patient long-suffering) to a greater degree than they do themselves, lest there arise the abominable travesty of monastic life whereby the rich, as far as possible, are to be compelled to toil, and the poor allowed to live in luxury. Certainly, just as those who are ill have of necessity to take, less food so as not to aggravate their disease, so after their illness they must receive such treatment as will help them to a speedier recovery, even although the worldly station from which they have come was one of the deepest poverty; just as if the illness they have just passed through had bestowed on them the privileges allowed to the wealthy because of their previous mode of life. But when they have made up their former strength, let them return to their own more fortunate mode of life, which is all the more befitting the handmaidens of God as it involves fewer wants; and let not their choice keep them, when they are well, in the privi- leged position to which necessity had raised them, when they were ill. Let those reckon themselves richer who in enduring frugality have been stronger; it is better to want less than to receive more.

Let not your apparel be conspicuous, and aspire to please, not by your attire, but by your conduct; let the covering of your head not be so thin that the nets appear under it. Do not let any part of your hair be uncovered, and, when you are outside the monastery, do not let it fly loose through carelessness or be arranged with fastidiousness. a When you go in procession, walk together; when you reach the place you are going to, stand together. In walking, in standing, in deportment, in all your movements, let nothing be done that might attract the desire of anyone, but let everything be in keeping with your holy character. Though your eyes may be cast upon anyone, let them be fixed upon no one; for when you are in procession, you are not forbidden to look upon men, but to desire to make approaches to them or to have them make approaches to you. It is not by touch only and by bearing that a woman solicits approaches or makes them, but by look as well. And do not say that you have chaste minds if you have unchaste eyes, because an unchaste eye is the messenger of an unchaste heart, and when unchaste hearts send messages to each other, even though the tongue is silent, by the exchange of a look and agreeably to the lust of the flesh find pleasure each in the other's ardour, the body may actually remain uncontaminated by any unclean violation and yet purity may take its departure from the character. And she who fixes her eye upon a man and takes delight in having his fixed upon herself, must not imagine that, when she does so, she is not observed by others; she assuredly is observed, and observed by those she wots not of. But just suppose she does escape detection and is not observed by any human being, what will she do about that observer from above, Whose detection nothing can escape? a Is He to be considered to observe nothing, because He observes with as much long-suffering as wisdom: Let each holy woman therefore cherish the fear of displeasing Him, so as to avoid the desire of sinfully pleasing man; let her keep in mind that He observes everything, so that she may avoid the desire of sinfully observing man. For it is fear of Him. and that in this self-same matter, that is commended to us by the passage, One that fixeth the eye is an abomination to the Lord. b So then, when you are together in church and in any place where men too are present, keep mutual guard upon your chastity, for in that way too God. Who dwelleth in you, c makes you His guards upon yourselves.

And if in anyone of your number you perceive this frowardness of eve of which I am speaking, at once admonish her, so that what has begun may go no farther, but may be remedied straightway. But if. even after admonishment, you notice her doing the same thing again on any other day, whoever has had the opportunity of noticing this should report her for treatment, as one afflicted with a sore, but not before she has been pointed out to a second or a third, so that she may be convicted from the mouth of two or three witnesses d and be punished with becoming severity. And do not judge yourselves to be acting from malice when you point out anything of this kind; for the truth rather is that you share the guilt if you allow your sisters to perish by keeping silence, when it lies in your power to correct them by pointing them out. For if your sister had a sore on the body that she wanted to conceal from fear of the surgeon's knife, would it not be cruel on your part to say nothing about it, and compassionate to point it out? How much rather, then, are you bound to expose her, so that she may not incur greater risk from the canker in her heart? But before she be pointed out to the others whose witness is to convict her if she deny her guilt, she ought first to be reported to the superior, if on being warned she has neglected to reform so that through the more private rebuke she may not escape the others' knowledge. If, however, she denies her guilt, then she should, on making this false assertion, be confronted with the others, so that in the presence of all she may be convicted by two or three witnesses, and not charged simply by one. After conviction she ought to be visited with corrective punishment at the discretion of the superior or the priest-in-charge; if she refuses to undergo that and does not of herself take her departure, let her be expelled from your community. This extreme step is taken not out of cruelty, but out of compassion, as a precaution against the destruction of many others through deadly contamination. And let my remarks about wanton looks be carefully observed, with love of the sinner and hatred of the sin,a in the discovery, prohibition, denunciation, trial and punishment of the other sins. But if anyone of you has gone to such lengths in sin that she is secretly receiving from a man letters or any kind of gifts, let her be pardoned and prayer be made for her, if she confesses it of her own accord; but if she is detected and it be proved against her, let more serious punishment be inflicted on her at the discretion of the priest-superior or the other priests in a body or even the bishop.

Keep your clothes under the care of one or two or as many as may be necessary to shake them out for protection against moths; and just as your food is supplied from one store-room, so let your clothing come from one wardrobe. And whatever is brought forth for you to wear according to the weather, let it not concern you, if you can attain this, whether each of you receives the garment she put off, or another that someone else had been wearing, so long as each is not denied what she needs. But if this gives occasion for strife and murmuring among you, and someone complains that she has received a worse garment than she was wearing before and considers herself too good to be clad in the same way as her sister was, let that be evidence to you how far deficient you are in that inward holy apparel a of the heart, when you quarrel about the apparel of the body. Nevertheless, if your weakness is so far indulged that you are granted the dress you had put off, let what you put off be, nevertheless, kept in one place in charge of the ordinary keepers of the wardrobe; thus no one will work at anything for her own use, whether it be clothing or bedding or underclothing or covering or head-dress; but let everything you make be for the common stock, with greater zeal and more cheerful urgency than if you were making anything for yourself. For the love about which it is written that it seeketh not its own b is to be understood as that which prefers the common good to personal good, not personal good to the common good. And so, the more attention you give to the common good in preference to your own, the more progress you will know you have made, so that the love which endureth a may be conspicuous in everything needed for the wants that pass away. It follows, then, that even what a man or woman bestows upon the inmates of the monastery, be they daughters or relatives, whether the gift be clothing or any other things that may be regarded as necessaries, must not be received in secret, but it must lie in the power of the superior to put it to the common stock and to hand it over to any inmate that needs it. b If anyone conceal a gift bestowed on her, let her be sentenced and condemned for theft.

Let your garments be washed, either by yourselves or by washer-women, at the discretion of the superior, so that excessive solicitude for clean raiment may not infect the soul with inward vileness. c Let the bathing of the body and the use of baths not be incessant, but be granted at the usual interval of time, that is, once a month. If, however, the need arising from any illness demands the washing of the body, let it not be too long postponed, and let it be done without murmuring for medical reasons; if anyone refuse, let her do at the command of the superior what needs to be done for health's sake. But if she wishes it and it does not happen to be for her good, she must not give in to her desire, for there are times when what is pleasant is thought to be beneficial, even though it really do harm. Finally, if a handmaid of God has some hidden pain in the body, and tells what ails her, she should be believed without hesitation; but still, if there be uncertainty whether that which pleases her is suitable for curing her pain, let the doctor be consulted. When they go to the baths, or wherever they have to go, let there not be less than three; and the sister who requires to go somewhere is not to go along with those she chooses herself, but with those the superior orders. The care of the sick, whether they be convalescing or be afflicted with some weakness, yet without fever, ought to be devolved upon someone, so that she herself may procure from the store-room what she sees to be needful for each. Further, the sister who has charge either of the store-room or the wardrobe or the library,a must serve her sisters without murmuring. Let the manuscripts be applied for at a fixed hour each day; outside that hour those who apply for them are not to receive them. As for clothes and shoes, whenever they are required for those in need, let those who have charge of them not delay to supply what is asked for.

You should either have no quarrels or put an end to them as speedily as possible, lest anger develop into hatred and make a beam out of a mote b and turn the soul to murder. For it is not only to men that the saying applies, He that hateth his brother is a murderer, c but the female sex too has received this commandment along with the male sex, which God created first. Whoever has injured a sister by taunt or abuse, or even by casting up faults, must remember to make amends at the first opportunity and heal the wound she has caused; and the injured sister must forgive her without further argument. But if they have caused mutual injury, they will require to grant mutual pardon because of your prayers, which from their frequency ought to be the holier. She who is often tempted by anger and yet hastens to beg for forgiveness from the sister whom she acknowledges she has hurt, is better than she who is slower to anger and is more stubborn in turning to seek for pardon. As for her who always refuses to seek for pardon or who seeks it without sincerity, she has no reason to be in the monastery, even if she is not expelled from it. Wherefore, refrain from harsh words; if they fall from your lips, do not think shame with the same lips that caused the hurt to utter words of healing. When, however, the needs of discipline compel the speaking of harsh words for the controlling of the younger inmates, you are not required to ask their pardon even if you feel that you have gone somewhat too far; otherwise, in observing too much humility towards those whose duty it is to be subject to you, you will undermine your authority in controlling them. But still you must seek pardon from the Lord of all, Who knows how great is the goodwill and love you have even for those whom you rebuke, perhaps, with undue severity. The love you bear each other ought, however, not to be carnal, but spiritual, for the things that immodest women do even to other women in low jests and pranks ought not to be done, not only by widows and chaste handmaidens of Christ following your holy way of life, but by Christians at all, be they married women or maidens destined for marriage.

Let the superior be obeyed like a mother, with all due honour, so that you offend not God through offending her; much more should you obey the priest who has charge of you all. Upon the superior particularly will fall the responsibility of seeing that all these regulations are carried out and, if anything is not carried out, of not carelessly passing over the offence, but of applying the remedy to heal and correct it; she may, further, refer to the priest-in-charge any matter that goes beyond her province or power. But let her think herself fortunate, not in having authority to rule, but in having the love to serve. a In honour in the sight of men let her be preferred to you; in the sight of God let her be beneath your feet. Towards everyone let her show herself a pattern of good works. b Let her warn the unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient to all. c Let her be cheerful in maintaining discipline and fearful to impose it; and although both are necessary, vet let her endeavour to be more loved by you than feared, always bearing in mind that she has to render an account of you to God. d Wherefore, by yielding her greater obedience, have compassion on her as well as on yourselves, because the higher her position is among you, the greater is the risk she runs.

May the Lord grant you to observe all these rules with love, as those whose affection is set upon spiritual beauty and who are fragrant with the sweet savour of Christ in your good conduct,e not as bonds women under the law, but as free women under grace. f In order, however, that you may examine yourselves in this treatise as in a mirror and may not neglect any point through forgetfulness, let it be read to you once each week, and when you find yourselves practising the things written in it, render thanks to the Lord, the giver of every good gift. But when any one of you perceives herself deficient in some point, let her lament the past and take precautions for the future, praying both that her trespass may be forgiven and that she may not be led into temptation. a

There have come to me two young men, Cresconius and Felix, declaring themselves members of your community, who have reported to me that there is some disturbance and dissension in your monastery because certain brethren are extolling grace to such an extent that they deny the freedom of the human will and, what is more serious, assert that on the day of judgement God will not render to every man according to his deeds. a But yet they have pointed out too that there are many of you who do not share these opinions, but confess that our free-will is aided by the grace of God so that we may think and do what is right, and that, when the Lord comes to render to every man according to his deeds, he will find our deeds good—deeds which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them. b Those who hold these opinions, hold right opinions.

I beseech you, therefore, brethren, as the apostle besought the Corinthians, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing and that there be no divisions among you. c For in the first place, the Lord Jesus, as is written in the Gospel of John the apostle, did not come to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved d; secondly, as the apostle Paul writes, God shall judge the world, e when He has come, as the whole Church confesses in the Creed, to judge the quick and the dead. f If then there is no grace of God, how does He save the world? And if there is no free-will, how does He judge the world? Wherefore, the treatise or letter of mine, which the afore-mentioned brethren brought with them to us, you are to understand in the light of that confession of faith, so that you neither deny the grace of God nor defend free-will in such a way as to sunder it from God's grace, as if without it we could by any means think or do anything well-pleasing to God—a thing which is utterly impossible. That is why the Lord, speaking about the fruits of righteousness, says to His disciples, Without me ye can do nothing. g

So you must know that the letter I have mentioned was written to Sixtus, a priest of the Roman Church, against the new heretics, the Pelagians, who declare that the grace of God is bestowed according to our merits; so that he who glories has to glory, not in the Lord, but in himself, that is, in man, not in the Lord. Now this is forbidden by the apostle, in the words, Let no man glory in man, and in another place he says, He that glorieth let him glory in the Lord. a But these heretics, imagining that they become righteous of themselves, as if it was they themselves and not God who granted this to them, consistently enough glory in themselves and not in the Lord. To such the apostle says, Who maketh thee, to differ from another?,b saying this on the ground that what makes a man to differ from that mass of perdition which had its origin in Adam and makes him a vessel unto honour and not unto dishonour,c is God alone. But since carnal man, swollen with empty pride, might, on hearing the question Who maketh thee to differ from another?, make answer either in thought or in word and say, It is my faith that makes me to differ; my prayers that make me to differ; my righteousness that makes me to differ, the apostle at once met these thoughts half-way and said, For what hast thou that thou didst not receive? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou didst not receive it? d For they glory just as if they did not receive it, those who imagine they are justified of themselves; they glory therefore in themselves and not in the Lord.

That is the reason why, in that letter that has come into your hands, I, the author of it,e have proved from passages of Holy Scripture, which you can examine in it, that our good works and our holy prayers and our right faith could certainly not have come into being within us, unless we had received them from Him of Whom the apostle James says, Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and cometh down from the Father of lights. a This makes it impossible for anyone to say that it is for the merit of his own works or the merit of his own prayers or the merit of his own faith that the grace of God was bestowed upon him, and to imagine that what these heretics say is true, that the grace of God is bestowed according to our merits. This is utterly untrue; not because there are no merits—either good merits in the righteous, or evil merits in the unrighteous—otherwise how will God judge the world?—but because a man is converted by the mercy and grace of God. of which the Psalm says, As for my God. His mercy shall prevent me, b so that the unrighteous may be justified, that is, be made just instead of unrighteous, and begin to possess that good merit which the Lord will crown when He comes to judge the world.

There are many communications I wished to send you for your perusal: you would then have had more exact and detailed knowledge of the whole action that was brought against these same Pelagians by the councils of bishops. But the brethren who came to us from your company had to hurry away. By them I am sending you this letter, which is not a reply to any of yours, for they brought none to us from your Charity. Yet we received them, as their straightforwardness was sufficient evidence that they were incapable of fabricating anything. Their purpose in hurrying away is to spend Easter with you, so that so holy a day may, with the Lord's help, find you in peace, rather than in strife.

It will, however, be better for you to do what I earnestly beg you will do; send to me, if it will not trouble you, the brother who is said to have caused this dissension, for either he has misunderstood my book, or perhaps he has made himself misunderstood, in his attempt to elucidate and unravel a question which is very difficult and intelligible to few. It is no other than the question about God's grace, which has caused men of small intelligence to imagine that the apostle Paul says, Let us do evil that good may come. a With reference to this the apostle Peter says in his second Epistle, Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, be diligent, that ye may be found of Him in peace, without spot and blameless; and account that the long-suffering of our Lord is salvation; even as our beloved brother Paul also, according to the wisdom given unto him, hath written unto you; as also in all his epistles, speaking in them in these things; in which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other Scriptures, unto their own destruction. b

Take heed, then, to avoid what the great apostle describes so fearsomely, and when you realize that you do not understand, put your faith for the present in the inspired statements that in man there is both freewill and divine grace, without the aid of which freewill can neither be turned to God nor make any advance towards God; and pray that what you submissively put your faith in, you may come wisely to understand. And indeed it is for this very purpose that we have free-will, namely, that we may wisely understand, for unless we had freedom of will in understanding and practising wisdom, we should not be commanded in the words of Scripture, Under- stand now, ye simple among the people; and ye fools, at length be wise. a From the very fact, then, that we have been commanded and instructed to understand and be wise, it follows that our obedience is demanded, and it cannot exist unless through freewill. Yet if it were in our power of our own free-will to obey this precept to understand and be wise, without the assistance of grace, it would be useless to say to God, Give me understanding, that I may learn Thy commandments, b nor would it be written in the Gospel, Then opened He their understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures c; nor would the apostle James say, If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, Who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him. d But the Lord is able to grant both to you and to us, to rejoice in the speedy tidings of your peace and holy concord. I greet you, not only in my own name, but also in the name of the brethren who are with me, and I beseech you to pray for us with one heart and with all instancy. The Lord be with you! Amen.

I could never find a more trustworthy man or one who could have easier access to your presence as bearer of my letter than the servant and minister of Christ, the deacon Paul,a a dear friend of us both, who has just now been provided for me by the Lord. I must say something to you, not with regard to the power and the honour you bear in this evil world, nor with regard to the preservation of your corruptible mortal body b (for it too is destined to pass away, and how long it may endure is always uncertain), but with regard to the salvation promised us by Christ. Because of it He was degraded and crucified here below, so that He might teach us rather to despise than to desire the good things of this world, and to set our affection and our hope upon that which He revealed in His resurrection; for He is risen from the dead and dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over Him. c

I know that you have no lack of friends who love you as far as your life in this world is concerned, and, so far as it is concerned, give you advice, sometimes useful, sometimes not; for they are only human and the highest wisdom they as such can have looketh only to the present hour, and they do not know what may happen on the morrow. But as far as God is concerned, it is not easy for anyone to give you advice that will prevent the destruction of your soul; it is not that you lack friends who would do this, but because it is difficult for them to find an opportunity of speaking of those subjects with you. I myself, indeed, have always wanted to do so, but I have never found the place or the time to deal with you as I ought to deal with one for whom I have a great affection in Christ. Yet you know what I was like when you saw me at Hippo, on the occasion of your gracious visit to me a: I was so worn out and weak in body that I could scarcely speak. But now, my son, hearken to me when I converse with you by letter at least; while you were in danger, I never had a chance of sending one to you. from apprehension of danger to the bearer and fear that m v letter might come into the hands of people whom I should not have wished it to reach. I beg you. therefore, for forgiveness, if you have the impression that I was more apprehensive than I should have been; vet I have stated that I was apprehensive.

Hear me, therefore: nay, hear the Lord our God through me. His feeble servant. Recall to mind what manner of man you were while your first wife, of hallowed memory, was still in the flesh, and how just after her death you took a horror of the vanity of this life, and how you longed to enter the service of God. b We know, we can testify. what you said in conversation with us at Tubunae c about your state of mind and your intentions, when brother Alypius and I were alone with you. Indeed, I do not think that the earthly cares which now engross you have so prevailed as to be able to wipe that conversation from your memory. You wanted, in fact, to abandon all the public business that engaged you and to retire to a holy retreat and to live the life lived by God's servants the monks. What was it that restrained you? Only the reflection, which we urged on you, of the great advantage the work you were doing would be to the churches of Christ, if you pursued it with the sole purpose of protecting them from the hostile attacks of barbarians,a so that they might live, as the apostle says, a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty, b while you yourself would seek from this world nothing but what was necessary for the maintenance of your own life and that of your household, girding yourself with the chastest continence, and wearing along with the armour of the body the surer and stronger defence of the armour of the spirit.

When, in consequence, we were rejoicing in this design of yours, you sailed for Italy and you married a wife c; your sailing was an act of obedience, which you owed, according to the apostle, to the higher powers d; but you would not have married a wife if you had not been overcome by desire and abandoned the continence you took upon yourself. When I learned of this, I confess I was thunderstruck with amazement, yet in some measure I found consolation for my grief in the fact that I heard you had refused to marry her until she turned Catholic. But in spite of that, the heresy of those who deny the true Son of God has acquired such influence in your home that it was by them that your daughter was baptized. If the report that reached us was not untrue (and would to Heaven that it were!), that those same heretics have even re-baptized maidens consecrated to God, what fountains of tears we should need now to bewail such a calamity! Further, people say that you have not been content with your own wife, but have degraded yourself by having intercourse with some concubines or other. But perhaps this is lying gossip.

These evils, numerous and grave and known to everybody, have been perpetrated by you since your marriage, and so what am I to say? You are a Christian, you possess intelligence,a you cherish the fear of God. Consider for yourself the things I am unwilling to utter, and you will find how great are the evils for which you ought to do penance. I believe it is for that that the Lord is sparing you and delivering you from all dangers, so that you may do it as it should be done, but on condition that you hearken to the words, Tarry not to be converted to the Lord and put not off from day to day. b You maintain that your cause is just,c but I cannot judge of that, for I am unable to hear both sides; but whatever your cause be, and of that at present there is no need of inquiry or discussion, can you deny before God that you would not have fallen into these straits if you had not loved the good things of this world, which like a servant of God, as we knew you to be formerly, you ought entirely to have despised and counted as nothing? Accepting what was bestowed on you, you should have employed it to advance your godliness; that which was denied you or was entrusted to you to administer, you should not have sought after in such a way as to reduce yourself because of it to the present straits, in which, because of the love felt for vain things, evil things are done—few, indeed, by you, but many because of you, and since fear is felt for things which hurt for only a short time (if indeed they hurt at all), things are done which really hurt for all eternity.

To mention only one of these things: who can fail to see that many men cleave to you for the preservation of your power or your personal safety, who (assuming that they are all loyal to you and that you need not apprehend treachery from any one of them) yet desire through you to attain to those good things which they too love, not in order to please God, but from worldly motives? As a result, you, whose duty it was to bridle and check your desires, are compelled to satisfy those of others; and before that can be done, many things have to be done that are displeasing to God. Even so, such desires as theirs are not quite satisfied, for it is easier altogether to cut them off in those who love God, than ever to give them appeasement in those who love the world. That is why Holy Scripture says, Love not the world nor the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever, as God abideth for ever. a When, then, will you succeed with so many armed men whose desires have to be humoured and whose vindictiveness is to be feared—when, I repeat, will you succeed in bringing the desires of these men who love the world, not to actual repletion (for that is simply impossible), but to a moderate gratification, in order to avoid a universal destruction, if you do not do the things that God forbids and for which His vengeance will fall on the doers? And to afford them gratification, you see the havoc has been so widespread that now hardly anything, however small its value, can be found for them to plunder. a

And what shall I say about the devastation of

Africa that is being wrought by African barbarians? They meet with no opposition, so long as you are taken up with the difficulties of your own situation and take no measures to avert this calamity. After the appointment of Boniface as Count of the Household and of Africa with so great an army and such extensive authority—Boniface, who, while tribune, aided by a few confederates, quelled all those tribes by force of arms and the menace of his name,b—who would ever believe, who would ever be afraid, that those barbarians would be so daring, would encroach so far, would spread such devastation, seize so much plunder, make desolate so many places that were once crowded with people? Did not everyone declare that, as soon as you took over the authority of Count, the African barbarians would not only be subdued, but would actually be made tributary to the Roman Empire? And now you see how men's hopes have been dashed to the ground. On this subject I need not linger, for your own mind can suggest more to you than I can say.

But perhaps you reply to this with the defence that the blame must rather be laid upon those who have injured you, who instead of a fair reward for the virtues you displayed in office, rendered you the very opposite. The rights or wrongs of that I personally am unable to examine and decide; rather look at and look into your own case, not as it Res between you and any men, but as it lies, to your own personal knowledge, between you and God; for as you live in Christ as a believer, you ought to cherish fear of giving offence to Him. The cases that engage my attention are rather those of the world above, for it is to their own sins that men ought to attribute the fact that Africa is undergoing such calamities. Nevertheless, I do not want you to be of the number of those evil and unrighteous men whom God uses to scourge with temporal punishments those whom He chooses; since for the unrighteous themselves, whose evil nature He justly employs to inflict temporal evils on others, He reserves everlasting punishment, if they do not reform. But as for yourself, fix your mind upon God, turn your thoughts to Christ, Who has bestowed such great blessings and endured such great sufferings. Those who desire to attain to His kingdom and to live with Him and under Him in everlasting blessedness, love even their enemies, do good to those who hate them and pray for those who persecute them a; and if at any time in the interests of discipline they employ irksome severity, they do not, however, lay aside their sincere affection. If, then, benefits have been conferred upon you by the Roman Empire, though they be earthly and transitory b (for that Empire itself is earthly, and not heavenly, and it can bestow only what lies within its own power); if, then, benefits have been bestowed upon you, render not evil for good; but if evil has been inflicted upon you, render not evil for evil. a Which of these two has been your lot, I do not wish to discuss nor am I able to decide; for my part I am speaking to a Christian: render not evil for good nor yet evil for evil.

You perhaps say to me, What do you want me to do in these straits? If you ask advice from me as after the spirit of this world, how your safety, transitory as it is, may be secured, and your power and wealth either preserved in their present condition or increased to greater dimensions, I am at a loss what to answer you; things as uncertain as these do not admit of any certain counsel. b But if, as in the sight of God. you consult me about saving your soul from destruction and fear the word of Truth Who says, What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?, c I certainly have an answer to give; I am ready with advice which you must hear from me. Yet what need is there for me to say anything different from what I have already said: Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the will of God, abideth for ever, even as God abideth for ever. d Here is advice for you; lay hold of it and act upon it. Let it now be seen if you are a strong man: vanquish the desires with which you love the world. Do penance for the misdeeds of the past, when these desires had you vanquished and empty passions dragged you in their train. If you will receive this advice and hold fast to it and keep it, you will both attain to those blessings which are certain and pass through the midst of these uncertain things without harm to your own soul.

But perhaps you ask me again how you are to accomplish this, involved as you are in the great distresses of this world. Be earnest in prayer and say to God the words you find in the Psalm, Bring thou me out of my distresses, a for then are these distresses ended when those desires are overcome. He who has answered your prayers and our prayers for you and has delivered you from the many great dangers of the warfare in which men visibly risk their bodies, in which the stake is but this life that must sooner or later come to an end, while the soul escapes destruction unless it be held in captivity by evil desires—He will Himself also answer your prayer for an invisible and spiritual victory over your inward and invisible foes, that is these same desires, and help you to use this world as not abusing it, b so that with its good things you may do good, instead of becoming evil. For these things are good in themselves and are not given to men save by Him Who has power over all things in heaven and in earth: and on the one hand they are bestowed upon the good, so that they may not be thought to be evil; on the other, they are bestowed upon the evil, so that they.may not be thought to be the great or supreme good; and likewise they are taken away from the good, in order to try them, and from the evil, in order to punish them.

Who is so ignorant, who so foolish, as not to see that the health of this mortal body and the strength of its corruptible members, and victory over men who are our foes, and honour and temporal power and all other earthly blessings, are bestowed upon both the good and the evil and are taken away from both the good and the evil? But the health of the soul, along with the immortality of the body, and the strength of righteousness and victory over the desires that are our foes, and glory and honour and peace for evermore, are bestowed upon the good alone. These things, then, love and desire and seek by every possible means. To secure them and hold them fast, give alms, pour forth prayers, practise fasting as much as you can without harming your body; but love not those earthly blessings, however much you may abound in them. Make such use of them that you do many good deeds by them and no single evil deed because of them. For all such things will pass away, but good deeds do not pass away, even those which are done with the aid of the good things that pass away.

If you had not a wife, I should tell you what we said to you already at Tubunae, that you should live in the holy state of continence; to that I should add what we then forbade you to do, namely, that you should withdraw from your military labours as far as is possible without endangering the peace of mankind, and obtain the leisure to follow that quiet life you then expressed your desire to follow, in the community of the holy, where the soldiers of Christ a contend in silence, not with the purpose of taking men's lives, but of conquering principalities and powers and spiritual wickedness, a that is, the devil and his angels. b For these are the enemies whom the holy vanquish, enemies they cannot see; and yet they vanquish the enemies they cannot see by vanquishing the objects of their senses. But to that kind of life I am prevented from urging you, for your wife stands in the way, and without her consent you cannot adopt a life of continence; because, although you had no right to marry her after what you said at Tubunae, yet she became your wife in all innocence and single-mindedness, knowing nothing of your declaration. Yet would that you could persuade her to continence, so that with nothing in your way you could render unto God what you know you owe Him! But if you cannot arrange that with her, preserve at least your conjugal chastity and ask God, Who can bring you out of your distresses, to grant that you may be able to do sooner or later what you find impossible now. But yet, in order to love God, you must give up loving the world; in your warfare (if you have still to be engaged in it) keep the faith and ensue peace; use this world's goods to do good deeds, and to obtain this world's goods do not do evil deeds—in these duties a wife is not a hindrance, or ought not to be.

I have written thus to you, my beloved son, at the bidding of the love wherewith I love you, not in the way of this world, but in God's way. And when I recall to mind the words of Scripture, Reprove a wise man and he will love thee; reprove a fool and he will hate thee more, c I had to think of you as surely not a fool, but a wise man.

Brother Paul has arrived back safely; he reports that his affairs have been considered favourably; the Lord will grant that this may be the last of them. He sends you hearty greetings and gives us the joyful news about Gavinianus, that having secured deliverance, by God's mercy, from that case of his, he is now not only a Christian but has become a very admirable member of the Church,b having received baptism last Easter, and professing in his heart and with his mouth c the grace that was bestowed on him. I could never express the greatness of my longing for him, but you know how dear he is to me. The town physician,d Dioscurus, has also become a Christian and joined the Church, having received grace at the same time. I must tell you how it came about, for one so stiff-necked and sharp-tongued could have been subjugated only by a miracle.

His daughter, an only child, the pride of his life, was ill, and she reached a point when the recovery of her bodily health was quite despaired of, and her own father gave her up. The story goes (and its truth is vouched for by the fact that even before the return of brother Paul it was told me by Count Peregrinus,a an admirable man and a thorough Christian, who received baptism at the same time as they did)—the story goes then that the old man finally turned to implore the pity of Christ and bound himself by a vow to become a Christian, if he saw her out of danger. That prayer was granted, but in spite of that he neglected to fulfil his vow. But his hand was still high. b For suddenly he is smitten with blindness and it immediately occurred to him why that had happened. He cried out. confessing his fault, and made another vow that, if he received back his sight, he would fulfil his earlier vow. He received it back, he fulfilled his vow. And still his hand was high.5 He had not memorized c the Creed, or perhaps had refused to memorize it, and had offered the excuse that he could not. Let God be judge. But just after the completion of the ceremony of his admission, he fell into a paralytic seizure affecting many, if not all, of his members. Then, being warned in a dream, he confessed in writing that he had been told this had befallen him for the reason that he had failed to repeat the Creed. After that confession the use of all his limbs was restored to him. saving only his tongue. Yet he confessed on paper that in spite of that seizure he had learned the Creed and still retained it in his memory. And thus was destroyed in him all the scurrility which, as you know, was a great blemish on his natural kindness and made him. when he mocked Christians, a very sacrilegious man. What shall I say save Let us sing a hymn to the Lord and highly exalt Him for ever a? Amen.

From my holy brethren and fellow-bishops Urbanus and Novatus c I have learned of your character and high position; one of them had the good fortune to make your acquaintance in the town of Hilari near Carthage and recently at Sicca, the other at Sitifis. Through them it has been brought about that I too cannot regard you as unknown to me. For the fact that my bodily weakness and the twofold cold, of winter and of old age, does not permit me to have converse with you face to face, has not prevented me from seeing you, for one of these friends, when present with me on a visit he was good enough to make, revealed to me the countenance of your heart, if not of your body, and the other did so by letter, so that I have all the greater pleasure in seeing the more inward man. This countenance of yours both you and I, by God's favour, behold with joy in the Holy Gospel, as in a mirror, where the words are written that were uttered by Him who is truth: Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. a

Those men are indeed great and they have their own honour who as warriors display not only great courage but also (what is the source of more genuine praise) great fidelity, and by their toils and perils, with the assistance of God's protection and aid, subdue foes before invincible, and procure peace for the state and for the tranquillized provinces. But it is a greater glory to slay war with a word than men with the sword and to gain and maintain peace by means of peace, not by means of war. For even those who fight are certainly seeking peace, if they are good men, but seeking it by the shedding of blood, while you have been sent to prevent the seeking of anyone's blood. Others are therefore under the necessity of taking life, while you have the felicity of sparing it. Wherefore rejoice, my deservedly illustrious and most distinguished lord and son warmly cherished in Christ, in the great and genuine blessing that is yours and enjoy it in the Lord to Whom you owe it that you are what you are and that you have undertaken the task it is yours to accomplish. May God " strengthen that which He hath wrought for us through you"a! Accept this my greeting and be good enough to repay it with one from you. As I am informed by the letter of my brother Novatus, he has taken steps to make your learned Excellency acquainted with me also in my writings. If, then, you have read the works he gave you, I too have become known to your more inward perceptions, nor would you, I imagine, find me very unsatisfactory, if your reading has been done with greater inclination to love than to harshness. It is not asking very much, but it will be very much appreciated, if in return for my writings, both this one and those others, you send me a single letter. I greet too with all due affection the pledge of peace,b whom you have been happy enough to receive by the favour of the Lord our God.

You wanted a reply from me as evidence that I have received your letter with joy, so, see, I send you one. And yet in a reply, be it this one or any other, it is impossible for me, whether writing briefly or at great length, to make that evident, for neither a few words nor many can be evidence of what words cannot make evident at all. And for my part, though I have the gift of copious expression, I have only a limited power of se]f-expression; yet I would certainly not admit that any man, however gifted with the power of expression, could describe in a letter, no matter how good or how long, the feelings awakened in me by your letter; it is quite beyond my power, and he cannot observe them within me as I do myself. It only remains for me, then, to give you the evidence you wanted to have in such a way that in my words you may feel evidence of what they cannot express. So what shall I say but this, that I was very, very pleased with your letter? The repetition of that word is not so much a repetition as a constant utterance, but since the perpetual utterance of it is quite impossible, I have done the only thing possible by at least repeating it. In this way, perhaps, things, may be uttered that completely defy utterance.

At this point, if anyone were to ask what after all it was in your letter that pleased me so very much, if it was its eloquence, I shall say No; he will perhaps reply, Then it was the praise of yourself, and to that too I shall say No; not for the reason that your letter was without these, for it was eloquent enough very notably to reveal the fact that your natural endowments are of the finest quality and that your training in the literary disciplines has been good; and, further, your letter was full of praises of myself. And so, someone may say, things of that kind give you no pleasure? It is the other way round, for, as someone has remarked, my heart is not made of horn, a that I either do not feel such things or feel them without pleasure. I do take pleasure in even such things as these, but, alongside that which made me, as I said, very pleased, what are such things after all? Your eloquence does give me pleasure, so gravely sweet and so sweetly grave it is: with the praise of myself. however, though certainly I neither find pleasure in every kind nor from every man. but only in such as you consider me worthy to receive and from men such as you are, who for Christ's sake love His servants—even with the praise of myself contained in your letter I cannot deny that I was very well pleased.

Let serious-minded and experienced men consider what opinion they should form of the well-known Themistocles a (if I remember his name aright), who at a banquet, on refusing to play on the lyre, a usual practice among the distinguished and learned men of Greece, and being on that account deemed a less cultured person, and scorning all that kind of amusement, is said, when asked what he did take pleasure in hearing, to have made answer, My own praises. Let such men consider what they think the aim and intention of this remark was or what was the intention of the speaker. He was. indeed, a very high-minded man, in the eyes of this world, for when the further question was asked him, What then do you know? he replied, How to make a small state great. For myself, however, I hold that the saving of Ennius that All mortal men are eager to be praised. b is partly to be approved of, partly to be taken as a warning. For just as truth is to be sought after, as being without a doubt the only thing deserving of praise, even if praise be withheld, so is the easily and furtively developing pride in the praise of men to be shunned. And that is the case when, on the one hand, those good qualities that are worthy of being praised are thought not worth possessing unless a man is praised by his fellows, or, on the other hand, when a man desires great praise for things which are worthier of either slight praise or even censure. Hence Horace was much more cautious than Ennius in saying a:

Swell you with lust for praise? Then read thrice o'er Some book whose charms are potent to restore.

You see he thought that the swelling arising from the lust for human praise was to be, as it were, charmed away, like some serpent's bite, by healing words. The Good Master has accordingly taught us by His apostle not to live right and do right with the object of being praised by men, that is. not to make the praise of men the motive of our doing right, and yet He has taught us for men's sake to seek men's praise. b For when good men are praised, the praise confers a benefit on those who bestow it, not on those who receive it. For as far as concerns the good, the fact that they are good is sufficient, but the others, whose interest it is to imitate the good, are to be congratulated when they bestow praise on the good, since by doing so they show' that they are pleased by those whom they praise in sincerity. So the apostle says in a certain passage, If I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ, c and he says in another passage, Please all men in all things, even as I please all men in all things d; but he adds the reason, Not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many that they may be saved. See what he sought in men's praise, of which he says further, Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report: if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. Those things, which ye have both learned and received and heard and seen in me. do; and the God of peace shall be with you. a So the other things he mentioned above he included under the word virtue, saying, If there be any virtue; what he meant by the words, Whatsoever things are of good report, he followed up by the single, appropriate phrase, If there be any praise. So his words, If I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ, are to be understood in this way, as if he had said, If I were doing the good I do with the motive of receiving human praise, I should be ' swelling with the lust for praise.' " The apostle wanted therefore to please all men, and found joy in pleasing those whom he edified in Christ by receiving their praise, not those whose praise made him swell within himself. Why should I not therefore find pleasure in being praised by you, when you are (unless I am mistaken in you) a good man and bestow your praise upon the things which you admire and which it is profitable and wholesome for you to admire, even if they be lacking in me? This benefits not only you, but me too, for if they are lacking in me, it is wholesome for me to be shamed and inflamed with desire to acquire them. And so the qualities I recognize in your praises as my own I rejoice in possessing and in having you love them and me for their sake; those on the other hand that I fail to recognize as mine I yearn to acquire, not only in order to possess them for myself, but also to keep those who have a genuine love for me from being deluded when they praise me.

See how much I have said, and I have not yet said what it is in your letter that delighted me far more than your eloquence, far more than your praise of myself. What else do you think it is, honoured Sir, than this, that I have gained the friendship of a man of your character, even without seeing you—if I ought to use the words without seeing you, when I have seen your mind, if not your body, in your letter; in it I gained an impression of you not, as before, from the testimony of my brethren, but for myself. Already, indeed, I had been told what manner of man you were, but I had not experienced what kind of man you were towards me. But I am sure that from this friendship of yours even my praises (which delight me in a way I have already sufficiently spoken of) will redound all the more richly to the profit of the Church, since you possess and study and admire and commend even my labours in defence of the Gospel against the remnant of ungodly demon-worshippers to such an extent that, in proportion to your high station. I gain all the greater reputation; illustrious yourself, you add lustre to their lowliness, and celebrated yourself, you celebrate them, and wherever you see that they can do good, you will certainly not allow them to remain unknown. If you ask me how I know that, it is as such that you have shown yourself to me in your letter. See now from this how great delight your letter was able to give me, if, with your good opinion of me, you think how delighted I am by gains for Christ. And when you inform me that you yourself, who have had the good fortune, as you say in your letter, to acquire Christian rights from your parents, your grandparents, and even your remotest ancestry, were yet helped by my efforts in the contest with pagan rites as by nothing else, can I think it a small matter, the amount of good that through your commendation and circulation my writings can bestow on others, and they numerous and famous, and through them easily and profitably on other people in need of some such message? Or with that thought in mind can I be imbued with the satisfaction of joys that are only slight or commonplace?

Since then I could not express in words the extent of the delight your letter gave me. I have spoken of that in it which was the source of my delight, and now I leave you to conjecture for yourself what I have been unable sufficiently to tell, that is, the delight it gave me. Take then, my son, take, excellent Sir, Christian that you are not on the surface only, but with Christian love—take, I repeat, those books of my Confessions that you asked for; in them behold me. so that you praise me not beyond what I am; in them give your belief to me, not to others who speak of me; in them observe me and see what I was of myself, by myself, and if anything in me gives you pleasure, join me in praising for it Him Whom I desired to have praise from me, and not myself; for He hath made us and not we ourselves a—indeed we had destroyed ourselves, but He Who made us, re-made us. And when in them you find me, pray for me that I may not suffer defeat,b but may be made complete; pray, my son, pray. I realize what I am saying; I know what I am asking; let it not seem to you unfitting and beyond your merits; you will deprive me of great assistance, if you do it not. Pray for me, not only you, but all others who have learned to love me from your lips; inform them of this my request, or rather, if you esteem me highly, consider that my request is a command; in any case, grant my request or carry out my command: pray for me. Read God's letters and you will find that the apostles themselves, the leaders a of the flock, requested this from their children or enjoined it on their hearers. For myself, since you make the same request from me for yourself, He Who answers prayer sees to what extent I am doing it, and saw to what extent I was doing it even before; but in this matter do you show me an equal return of love. We are your overseers, and you are God's flock. Reflect and see that our dangers are greater than yours, and pray for us (for this profits both us and you) that we may render a good account of you to the Chief Shepherd b and Head of us all and that we may likewise escape this world's allurements, more dangerous than its afflictions, unless when its peace makes for that for which the apostle warned us to pray, that is, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. c For if godliness and honesty be wanting, what is quietness and peaceableness from those and the other evils of the world but an opportunity for self-indulgence and destruction, either by inviting to it or by assisting towards it? So, then, that we may obtain this " quiet and peaceful life in all godliness and honesty " which my prayers ask for you, let your prayers ask it for me, wherever you are, wherever we are; for He is everywhere, Whose we are. d

I am sending other books as well, though you did not ask for them; I did not want to do only what you asked and nothing more. They are On Faith in Things Unseen. On Patience. On Continence, On Providence, and a bulky book On Faith, Hope and Charity. If you read all these while in Africa, send me your opinion of them; either send it to me or send it to a place from which it can be sent to me by my lord, the Senior Aurelius. a Yet wherever you are, I hope to receive letters from you and to send some to you while I am able. I have been very glad to receive the materials you were kind enough to send to the assistance both of my health, though it is only of the body, since you want me to suffer no impediment in the devotion of my time to God, and also of our library,b so that we may have the means of either preparing books or repairing them. May the Lord recompense you, both in this life and in the life to come, with those blessings He has prepared c for such as He has willed that you should be! I beg you to convey my greetings once again, as you did before, to the pledge of peace d entrusted to you and very dear to us both.

If perchance those who are Catholic Christians among you have sent me a letter of this kind, my only surprise is that it was in the name of the municipal senate a instead of their own. But if, in very truth, you all or almost all of the municipal senate have deigned to write to me, I am surprised that you have written the words To Father Augustine and Salutation in the Lord; for to my great grief I am well aware of your superstitious devotion to idols, against which idols it is easier to close your temples b than your hearts, or rather those idols are more enclosed in your hearts than they are in your temples. But perhaps you have at last given wise consideration and thought to that salutary life which is in the Lord and in which you wanted to give me salutation. For if it be not so, I ask you, praiseworthy lords and well-beloved brethren, what harm have I done to your Benevolences, what offence have I given, that you should think fit to mock at me by the superscription of your letter instead of honouring me?

For when I read the words you wrote, To Father Augustine, eternal salutation in the Lord, I was suddenly uplifted with such hope as to believe that you had already turned to this Lord and this eternal salvation, or were through my ministry desirous of turning. But when I read the rest, my spirit was chilled; I inquired, however, from the bearer of the letter whether you were already Christians or were anxious to become so. After learning from his answer that you were in no way changed, I was the more deeply grieved that you thought fit not only to spurn from you the name of Christ to which you see the whole world already in subjection, but even to make mock of it in my person. For I was unable to think of any other Lord in whom a bishop could be addressed by you as Father, except the Lord Christ; and if there were any doubt on this point about the meaning of the words you used, it would be removed by the closing sentence of your letter, in which you plainly put the words, We pray, my lord, that always in company with your clergy you may rejoice in God and His Christ for many years. After reading it all and pondering it, what else could I, what else can any man, think than that it was written either as a genuine expression of the writers' mind or with an intention to deceive? But if what you wrote is a genuine expression of your mind, who has barred your way to this truth? Who has strewn it with sharp thorns? Who has out of enmity set up steep rocks against you? Who, finally, has shut the church door in your face when you sought to enter, that you refuse to be partakers with us of that same salvation in that same Lord by whom you gave us salutation? But if it was with the intention to deceive and to mock that you wrote what you did, is that indeed the way in which to lay upon me the conduct of your affairs, not exalting with due honour the name of Him through Whom it is possible for me to do anything, but having the effrontery to bandy it about with insulting flattery?

You must understand, my dear friends, that it is with unspeakable quaking of the heart on your account that I say this to you, for I realize how much greater will be the seriousness and the doom of your case before God, if what I say to you has no effect. There is nothing that has happened to the human race in past times and has been recorded and handed down to us by our ancestors, nothing either that we experience and hand down to our posterity, that Holy Scripture has not spoken of, as far as it pertains to the seeking and the holding of true religion; everything comes to pass exactly as it was foretold it would come to pass. You plainly see the Jewish people torn from their abode and dispersed and scattered throughout almost the whole world; the origin of that people and its development and the loss of its realm and its dispersion everywhere—everything has happened just as it was foretold. You plainly see that the word of God and the law that came forth from that same people through Christ (Who was miraculously born of them) has laid fast hold upon the faith of all the nations; all these things, as we may read, were predicted just as we see them. You plainly see many cut off from the root of the Christian society, which through the sees of the apostles and the succession of bishops is spread abroad in unmistakable diffusion throughout the world, who yet boast, under cover of the Christian name, of the mere outward likeness they bear to their origin, like withered branches, which we term heresies and schisms; it was all foreseen, foretold and put down in writing. You plainly see some of the temples of idols fallen into ruin and not restored, some cast down, some closed, some converted to other uses,a and the idols themselves either smashed to pieces or burned or destroyed; and you see how the powers of this world, who at one time for the sake of their idols persecuted the Christian people, are vanquished and subdued by Christians who did not take up arms but laid down their lives, and have now turned their attacks and their laws against the very idols for whose sake they were in the habit of slaying Christians; and you see the most eminent dignitary of this noble Empire lay aside his crown and bow in supplication before the tomb of the fisherman Peter. a

All these things were long, long ago foretold to be coming to pass by the testimony of Holy Scripture, which has now come into the hands of everyone: all of them have happened, to our joy and to the greater strengthening of our faith as we find the Holy Scripture foretold them with a more imposing authority. Are we then, I ask you, to imagine that it is God's judgement alone, which those same Books foretell to their readers as deciding between the believing and the unbelieving—are we then to imagine that this judgement of God's alone will not come about, when all those other things came about just as they were foretold? Yea, verily, just as they all came about, so it too will come. Nor will there be any man of our times who at that judgement will be able to put forward any defence for being an unbeliever, when the name of Christ is on every man's lips: the righteous invokes it for justice, and the perjurer for deceit and the king for rule and the soldier for battle and the husband for establishing his authority and the wife as a sign of her submission and the father for his commands and the son for his obedience, the master for his lordship and the servant for his service, the humble man for piety and the proud man for ambition, the rich man when he gives away and the poor man when he receives, the drunkard in his cups and the beggar at the gate, and the good man that he may do good and the bad man that he may deceive, both the Christian worshipper and the pagan time-server—all repeat the name of Christ, and with what purpose and what lips they repeat it, to that same Christ, whose name they repeat, they shall most assuredly render an account. a

There is an invisible something from which, as a creator and first cause, all that we see derives its being, supreme, eternal, unchangeable and inexpressible save only to itself. There is a something by which that supreme majesty utters and declares itself, the Word, not inferior to its begetter and utterer, by which He Who begets the Word reveals Himself. There is a certain holy thing, the sanctifier of everything that is begotten in sanctity, which inseparably and undividedly unites that unchangeable Word, through which the First Principle utters itself, with the First Principle, which utters itself in the Word which is its equal. Who could contemplate with perfectly tranquil and pure mind this whole, which I have attempted to express without expressing it and by expressing it not to express, and from that contemplation draw blessedness, and lose and forget self in that object of contemplation, and press forward to that which, once seen, makes man hold himself as nothing—which means to be clothed with immortality and to lay hold upon that eternal salvation, in which you think fit to give me salutation—who could do this, save he who, confessing his sins, has laid low all the empty swellings of his pride and prostrated himself in meekness and humility to receive God as his teacher?

Since then we have first to be reduced from the vanity of pride to humility, so that rising thence we may acquire real exaltation, it was impossible for us to have communicated to us this spirit (the more glorious for its very gentleness) whereby our ungovernableness is subdued by persuasion instead of by force, had not this Word—through Whom God the Father reveals Himself to the angels,a Who is His strength and wisdom, Whom the human heart, blinded by the desire for things visible, was unable to perceive—condescended to act out His part in human form and exhibit His being in such a way as to make mankind more afraid of being uplifted by the pride of man than of being brought low by the example of God. So the Christ Who is preached throughout the world is not a Christ Who is adorned with an earthly kingdom, nor a Christ rich in earthly possessions, nor a Christ shining with any earthly splendour, but Christ crucified. b This was a matter for ridicule at first by proud nations and still is to a remnant, but it was a matter for faith first to a few, now to nations, for then according to the faith of the few and in spite of the ridicule of the nations, when Christ crucified was preached, the lame walked, the dumb spoke, the deaf heard, the blind saw, and the dead rose again. c Thus at last conviction was brought to the pride of the world that nothing in the world itself was more potent than divine humility, so that under the protection of that divine example the most wholesome human humility may find shelter against the scornful assaults of pride.

Awake at last from your slumbers, ye men of

Madaura, my brethren and my fathers! a This opportunity of writing to you has been furnished me by God. As far as was possible, I stood by and gave my assistance, as God willed, in this affair of brother Florentius, who brought your letter to me; but the affair was such that even without my aid it could very easily have been carried through, for almost all the men of that family who are at Hippo know Florentius and deeply lament his bereavement. But your having sent a letter to me made it not presumptuous in me to write to you and, availing myself of the opportunity you provided, to say something to idol-worshippers about Christ. But I beseech you, if your naming of Him in your letter was not a vain gesture, that what I have written to you may not be in vain. If you wanted to make mock of me, fear Him Who on being at first condemned was made mock of by the proud world, which now awaits Him in subjection as Judge. For my heart's desire for you, expressed as well as I could in these pages, will be a witness against you at His judgement, when He will confirm those who believe in Him and confound those who do not. May the one true God free you from all the vanity of this world, my praiseworthy lords and well-beloved brethren, and turn you to Himself.

What you are to do with those who refuse to comply requires more consideration than how you can show them that what they are doing is unlawful. But at present the letter of your Holiness has found me extremely busy and at the same time the bearer's great haste to return has not allowed me either to make no reply to you or to give an adequate answer to the problems on which you asked my advice. Still, I should not like you to make any over-hasty decision about the forbidding of ornaments of gold or finery, except that those who are neither married nor desirous of being married ought to be thinking how they may please God. For that class of people think of worldly things, how they may, if they are husbands, please their wives, or if wives, please their husbands b; the one exception is that it is not becoming in women, even in those who are married, to uncover their hair, since the apostle bids them cover the whole head. c But as for painting the face d so that it may appear ruddier or fairer, this is immoral deceit.

I am quite sure that even their own husbands do not want to be so taken in, and they are the only people for whom women should be allowed to adorn themselves, and that as a concession, not as a command. For not only is lying paint no real adornment of Christian men and women, nor yet is the ostentation of gold and finery; but a good character is.

It is an accursed superstition to wear amulets,a among which must be reckoned also the earrings b that men wear on the top part of the ear on one side; they are employed not to please men, but to do homage to devils. Who could expect to find in the Scriptures individual prohibitions of every kind of ungodly superstition, when the apostle says in general terms, I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils, c and again, For what concord hath Christ with Belial?,d unless in naming Belial and forbidding in general terms fellowship with devils, he perchance allowed Christians to sacrifice to Neptune, because we do not read that any prohibition was made of Neptune specifically. e

Meanwhile, let those unhappy people be warned that if they refuse to comply with these more wholesome counsels, they must at least refrain from defending their acts of irreverence, from fear of involving themselves in greater guilt. Yet what are we to do with them, if they are afraid to put off their earrings and are not afraid to receive the body of Christ while wearing the devil's badge?

I cannot accept responsibility for the ordaining of one who was baptized in the Donatist party; it is one thing to do it if you are compelled, and another thing to advise you to do it.

On the problem of Fate and Chance, which is seriously perturbing your mind, as I noticed when I was with you and am now assured in a more gratifying and definite manner by your letter, I ought to reply to you at considerable length; the Lord will enable me to furnish you with such an explanation as He knows will be best suited for you and for your spiritual welfare. For it is no slight evil that perverted opinions not only induce men by the allurement of pleasure to commit sin, but lead them away from the remedy of confession to a defence of their sin.

Let me, however, at once and in a word assure you of this, that all legislation and all rules, all repressions, all commendations, censures, exhortations, menaces, rewards, punishments, and all other things by which the human race is controlled and governed, are utterly overthrown and subverted and left devoid of any particle of justice, if the cause of sinning is not the will. How much more legitimate and right, therefore, is it for us to reject the errors of the astrologers,a than to be forced to condemn and repudiate the divine laws or even the supervision of our own households. The astrologers themselves do not do so, for when one of them has sold his silly horoscopes to wealthy persons and turns his eyes away from the ivory tablets to the management and supervision of his own household, he immediately reproves his wife, not with objurgations only but even with blows, if he finds her not to say engaged in fro ward dalliance, but even looking too much out of the window. Yet if she were to say to him: Why do you beat me? Beat Venus, if you can, for it is the influence of her planet that makes me do this, his concern then is not what empty jargon he can concoct for the deception of strangers, but what just lashes he can inflict for the correction of his own household. b

When a man, then, upon receiving censure, throws the responsibility on Fate and therefore declines to accept the blame on the ground that it was under the compulsion of Fate that he did the action which is condemned, let him come to himself again and observe this same principle in dealing with those attached to him; let him refrain from chastising a servant who steals; let him utter no complaint of an abusive son and no threats to an offensive neighbour. Would he be acting justly in doing any of these things, if all those who do him some injury are driven to perform such actions, not by any fault of their own, but by Fate? If, however, from his personal rights and his responsibility as the head of a household, he exhorts to good those persons who for the time being are under his authority, deters them from doing evil and commands them to carry out his will, honours those who obey his nod, punishes those who set him at naught, renders thanks to the obliging, and hates those who are ill-disposed—shall I expect him to argue against Fate, when I find him proclaiming, not in words but in deeds, such convictions as to make him almost appear to be breaking with his own hands all the tables of the astrologers over their own heads?

So then, if these few remarks do not appease your thirst for information and you desire on this subject a book that will take a longer time to read, you must await with patience until I have a free interval, and ask God to be pleased to grant me both the leisure and the ability to satisfy your mind on this question. Yet my eagerness will be increased, if your charity does not grudge to write often and remind me, and also to reply informing me what you think about this letter.

The girl about whom your Holiness wrote to me is so minded, that if she were once of full age, wise nor ought I to do otherwise), so far was he from being reluctant to agree to it that he actually expressed his delight, but he regretted that they had no written instructions on the matter, as their friendly relations not unreasonably entitled him to expect. For perhaps the girl's mother will come forward, though she has not come forward as yet, and her wishes about the handing over of her daughter naturally have, in my opinion, precedence over all others, unless the girl is by that time of an age to have a more legitimate claim to choose for herself what she wants. Take this point too into consideration, my true friend, that if supreme and undivided power over her marriage were entrusted to me and she herself, if of age and desirous of marrying, left me free, with God as my Judge, to give her hand to the one I desired, then I declare, and declare with sincerity, my satisfaction with the condition you suggest, provided that, because of God my Judge, I should not be repudiating a better one; but whether a better one will turn up, is naturally uncertain. So your Charity will see how many considerations conspire to make it quite impossible for me at present to promise her to anyone.

I have torn myself away from my many preoccupations (or rather have slipped away and, so to speak, stolen myself away from them) in order to write to you, my oldest friend; and yet I did not really have you as a friend until I clove to you in Christ. You know, to be sure, the definition of friendship given by Tully, the greatest master of the Roman tongue, as he has been called a; he said, and said very truly, Friendship is agreement, with kindliness and affection, on things human and divine. b At one time, my dear friend, you were in agreement with me about things human, when it was my wish to enjoy them as the common people do, and by your encouragement you stretched my sails to the eager pursuit of things whereof I am now ashamed—or rather, along with the rest of my admirers of that time (and you were among the chief of them) you filled the sails of my ambitions with the breeze of praise. On the other hand, our friendship was defective on the side of things divine, of which at that period no gleam of truth had come to me, though they form the more important half of that definition; it included only the human things, not those as well that are divine, although it was agreement with kindliness and affection.

And after I abandoned those desires, you with persistent kindliness desired that in earthly welfare I should do well and be successful with that material prosperity which the world is wont to wish for one, and so, because of this, you still to some extent shared with me this kindly and affectionate agreement on things human. So, now, how can I explain in words the joy I have of you, when he who was so long my friend in some kind of way, is at last my friend in a genuine way? For there has been added the agreement in things divine as well, since you, who formerly spent this temporal life with me in the most charming kindness, have now begun to be with me in the hope of life eternal. Now, indeed, even on things human there is no disagreement between us, for we weigh them in the knowledge of things divine, so as not to concede to them more than their measure most justly demands, nor yet to slight their Creator, the Lord of things heavenly and earthly, by throwing them away with undeserved contempt. It is on these grounds that those friends who are not in agreement about things divine cannot be in complete and genuine agreement about things human either; for of necessity one who has a contempt for things divine must hold a different opinion from what he should hold about things human, and anyone who does not love Him Who made man has not learned to love man aright. Hence I do not say that now you are more completely my friend, instead of being, as you were before, only partially so; but, as far as reason can show, you were not even partially so before, since the friendship you cherished with me then was not even genuine in things human: for, assuredly, you were not yet my comrade in those things divine by which the human things are rightly weighed. Partly it was that at that time I had no interest in them myself, partly that after I began to have a taste (however slight) for them, you still entertained for them a strong aversion.

I do not want you to feel annoyed or to think it absurd that at that time, when I was aflame with desire for this world's empty show, you were not yet my friend, although you seemed to have a great affection for me; for then I was not even a friend to myself, but an enemy instead. For I loved iniquity, and that saying that is written in the Holy Books is true, because divine: He that loveth iniquity hateth his own soul. a Hating then my own soul as I did, how could I have a true friend in one who wished me those things in which I was suffering myself to be my own enemy? But after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour b dawned upon me, not according to my merits, but according to His mercy, how could you, when you were a stranger to it, be my friend? That which could give me happiness was quite unknown to you, nor did you love me in that wherein I had already been made a friend (however poor) unto myself.

Thanks be therefore to the Lord, that He is good enough to make you a friend of mine now at last; for now we have that agreement, with kindliness and affection, about things human and divine c in Christ Jesus our Lord, Who is our real peace. In two commandments He has summed up all God's injunctions, saying: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself; on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. d In the first of these is " agreement, with kindliness and affection " about things divine, in the second, about things human. If you are with me in holding these two commandments with tenacity, our friendship will be genuine and everlasting and it will join us not merely to each other but also to the Lord Himself.

That this may be so, I exhort you, my wise and honoured friend, now also to partake of the Sacraments available for those in full communion, for this would become one of your age a and be appropriate, in my opinion, to your character. Remember your remark to me when I was on the point of leaving you; you recalled that verse from one of Terence's comedies, but still, though from a comedy, very apposite and proper:

To-day now introduces a different life and demands a different character. b

If you were sincere in quoting it, as I have no right to doubt you were, you certainly are living now in such a way as to be worthy of receiving through the saving rite of baptism the remission of your past sins. There is none other at all, save the Lord Christ, to whom the human race can say:

Under Thy guidance, whatso tracks remain Of our old wickedness, once done away, Shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear. c

Virgil confessed to adopting this thought from the Cumaean, that is, the Sibylline, prophecy, and perhaps that seer too had had some message to her spirit about the only Saviour, which she had of necessity to confess.

This, my lord deservedly honoured and brother cherished in Christ and longed for, be it little or be it perchance much, I have at any rate written you, though in one way and another extremely engrossed in business. I long to receive a reply from you and to learn at any moment that you have entered your name among the candidates for baptism or are on the point of doing so. May the Lord God, in Whom you have put your trust, keep you, my lord deservedly honoured and brother cherished in Christ and longed for, both here and in the world to come!

After reading your Reverence's letter and asking its bearer the questions that remained to be asked, I have been very greatly grieved that you chose so to act towards your husband that the edifice of chastity which had already begun to be built up in him has, through his failure to persevere, toppled to the pitiful downfall of adultery. If after making to God a vow of chastity and already undertaking its observance in deed and in disposition, he had returned to his wife's body, his case would have been deplorable enough; but how much more deplorable is it now that he has plunged to deeper destruction, with such precipitate collapse into adultery, furious towards you, injurious to himself, as if his rage at you would be the more violent if he accomplished his own ruin! This great mischief has come about because you failed to treat him with the moderation you ought, for although by agreement you were no longer coming together in carnal intercourse, vet in all other things you ought to have shown the subjection of a wife to your husband in compliance with the marriage-bond, especially as you were both members of the body of Christ. b Indeed, if you, a believer, had had a husband who was an unbeliever, it would have been your duty to conduct yourself with submissiveness, as the Apostles enjoined, so as to win him to the Lord.

I leave out of account the fact that I know you took this chastity upon yourself before he consented, which was not according to sound doctrine, for he should not have been defrauded of the debt you owed him of your body, before his will too joined with yours in seeking that good which is above conjugal chastity. But perhaps you had not read or heard or meditated upon the apostle's words: It is good for a man not to touch a woman; nevertheless, to avoid fornication, let every man have his own wife and let every woman have her own husband. Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence; and likewise also the wife unto the husband. The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband; and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife. Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to prayer; and come together again that Satan tempt you not because of your incontinency. a According to these words of the apostle's, even if he had desired to practise chastity and you had not, he would be bound to render you due benevolence, and God would give him credit for chastity, since he would have been granting you marital intercourse through regard not for his own weakness but for yours, so as to prevent you from falling into the damnable sin of adultery. How much more fitting was it that you, who ought to have been in greater subjection, should give way to his desire in the rendering of this benevolence, so that he might not be led by the devil's tempting into adultery, since your desire for chastity would have been acceptable to God, as you were unable to carry it out for fear of driving your husband to destruction! I leave this fact, as I said, out of account, because after you had refused to consent to render him this conjugal benevolence he consented to the same bond of continence and lived for a long time in the greatest continence with you; and by consenting he absolved you from your sin in denying him carnal benevolence. So now in this problem of yours the question is not involved whether you ought to return to intercourse with your husband; for what you both with one consent vowed unto God, you both ought to have persevered unto the end in paying; even if he has fallen away from your resolution, do you at least persevere in it with the utmost fidelity. I should not be urging you to this course unless for the fact that he gave you his consent to that plan; for if you had never obtained his assent, no lapse of years would excuse you, but had you consulted me, however long afterwards, I should have made you no other answer than the saying of the apostle: The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband. a By this power of his he had already allowed you to practise continence and undertook to practise it with you himself.

But this is the point which I am grieved you did not observe more carefully: you were bound to give way to him in your private conduct with all the greater humility and submission, since he had so devotedly followed your example and conceded you so much. For he had not ceased to be your husband because you had both agreed to abstain from carnal intercourse; instead of that, the tie that bound you to each other as husband and wife remained all the more holy because of the greater holiness of the resolutions you were with one accord carrying out. You had no right, therefore, to do anything with your garments, anything with your gold or silver or money or with any of your earthly property, without his approval, for fear of scandalizing a man who had joined you in vowing more important things to God and had continently refrained from what he had lawful authority to demand from your body.

Finally, it came about that when scorned he burst the bond of continence with which he had girt himself when loved, and from anger with you, did not hesitate to harm himself. For, as the bearer of your letter informed me, when he learned that you had given away everything, or nearly everything, that you possessed to two passing monks,a of some kind or other, as if it were alms you were giving to the poor, then he cursed them and you together, and thinking that they were the kind of men who creep into other people's houses, and not servants of God, and that they had led you captive b and plundered you, he was provoked to throw off the holy obligation he had undertaken along with you. For he was weak, and therefore, since you seemed the stronger in your common resolution, he required to be supported by your love and not disquieted by your obstinacy; even if he happened to be slower in being moved to greater generosity in giving those alms, he could have learned even that from you, had he not been exasperated by your unlooked-for extravagance, but won over to it by the compliance he expected from you; so even this that you did of yourself so indiscreetly, you would in harmonious affection have done together with much more deliberation, much more orderliness and more decency, and no blasphemy would have been directed at servants of God (if that is what those men really were, who accepted such large sums from a woman they did not know, another man's wife, in the absence of her husband and without his knowledge) and praise would have arisen to God from your works. In them your companionship would have been so trustful that you would jointly have embraced not only the strictest chastity, but also glorious poverty.

Now, however, by your ill-advised haste see what you have done. For although I were to think the best about those monks by whom he complains you were not edified but robbed, and were not readily to take the part of a man whose eye was confused by anger a against those who were perhaps God's servants, is the good you have done in refreshing the bodies of the poor by your over-generous alms as great as the evil you have done in subverting your husband's mind from his virtuous resolution? Or ought anyone's temporal welfare to have been more precious to you than his eternal welfare? Would not God have credited you with still richer alms, if, meditating a wider sphere of mercy, you had postponed the distribution of your wealth to the poor in order to avoid putting a stumbling-block in your husband's way and making him die to God? So, if you recall what you gained when you won your husband to the service of Christ with you in holier chastity, you can understand how much weightier is the loss with which you have been smitten through your almsgiving, which overturned his heart, than is the gain which you thought you were laying up in heaven. For if the breaking of bread for the hungry a has a great place there, how great must we believe to be there the place of the compassion by which a man is snatched from the devil, as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour b!

Now, by this I do not mean that if our good works put a stumbling-block in anyone's way, we should imagine that we must cease from them; but the case of strangers differs from that of those bound to us by any tie: that of the believer differs from that of the unbeliever, that of parents towards their children from that of children towards their parents, and finally the case (which in the present circumstances must be particularly considered) of a husband and a wife, where the married woman has no right to say, I shall do what I like with what is my own. She is not her own, but belongs to her head, that is, her husband,c for after this manner, as the apostle Peter reminds us,d the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection unto their own husbands, even as Sara obeyed Abraham, calling him lord; whose daughters, he says, though he was speaking to Christian not to Jewish women, ye have become.

And was it surprising that a father refused to have the son of both of you stripped by his mother of the means of supporting this life, when he did not know what career he would pursue when he came to be a little older, whether he would undertake the vows of a monk or service in the Church or the tie of marriage relations? For although the children of holy parents should be prompted and trained for better things, still every man hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and another after that a; unless indeed a father is to be blamed who exercises foresight and caution about such things, though the apostle says, But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith and is worse than an infidel. b But when he speaks of almsgiving, he says, I mean not that other men be eased, and ye burdened. c Together, you should deliberate on all matters, together you should apportion what treasure you should lay up in heaven and what you should leave as a sufficiency in this life for yourselves and your household and your son, so that " other men " should not be eased and ye burdened. And in the ordering and doing of this, if any better plan happened to occur to you, you should have suggested it to your husband with deference and with obedience submitted to his authority as that of your head. In this way all sensible people to whom the report could come of this good thing in you would rejoice at the fruitfulness and peace of your household, and your adversary would be put to shame, having nothing to say about you that was amiss.

Further, if in the matter of alms-giving and bestowing your property upon the poor—a good work and important, about which the Lord has given such unmistakable commandments—it was your duty to take common counsel with your husband, a Christian and observing with you the holy vow of continence, and not to scorn his wishes, how much more necessary w-as it for you, not to change or to adopt against his will anything in the way of attire or dress—a thing about which there are no divine orders for us to read. It is, indeed, written that women should have modest apparel, and " the wearing of gold " and " the broidering of the hair"a and other suchlike things, usually employed either for empty show or to give allurement to the body, are deservedly condemned. But there is a kind of matronly dress, befitting a person's station, distinct from the garments of a widow, which may become Christian wives without affronting Christian decorum. If your husband did not wish you to put that aside,so that you should not vaunt yourself as a widow while he was still alive,b I am of opinion that on this point he should not have been driven to the scandal of quarrelling with you, for the harm done by your disobedience was greater than the good you did by any of your self-repression. For what is more preposterous than a wife's domineering over her husband about a humble garment, when it would be more becoming in you to yield him compliance in shining deeds than to contend with him about gloomy clothes? Even if a nun's dress pleased you, you would have been happier in assuming even it when you had shown due regard for your husband and received his permission, than in presuming to don that other, without asking his advice or paying him any respect. And if he altogether refused to allow it, wherein would your resolution have been the loser? Far be it from us to imagine you would dis- please God by wearing, while your husband was still alive, not the dress of Anna, but of Susanna. a

Nor even if he had wished you to put on the dress of a matron and not of a widow, would he who had already begun with you to observe the great virtue of continence, have been driving you also to adopt adornment that was unbecoming; even had he compelled you to it by some galling condition, you could have had a humble heart beneath your haughty finery. Surely, in the time of the patriarchs, Queen Esther feared God, worshipped God and obeyed God, and yet in submission served the foreign king, her husband, who did not worship the same God as she did. At a time of the utmost danger, not to herself alone but to her race as well, who were then God's chosen people, she prostrated herself before God in prayer, and said in her prayer that she regarded her royal adornment " as a menstruous rag"b; and so her prayer was immediately heard and answered by Him that pondereth the heart, c Who knew that she was speaking the truth. And yet her husband was a man with many wives and worshipped strange, false gods. But you, if your husband had persevered in the resolution he had undertaken with you and had not fallen into sin on provocation from you, you had a husband who was not only a believer and a worshipper with you of the true God, but was also practising continence, and who undoubtedly, recollecting your common resolution, even if he did compel you to wear matronly dress, would nevertheless not have compelled you to wear proud ornaments.

I have written this to you, since you thought fit to ask my advice, not in order to undermine your righteous design by any words from me, but because I am grieved at what your husband has done as a result of your irregular and imprudent conduct. It is your duty most earnestly to think how he may be restored, if your wish to belong to Christ is sincere. Put on therefore humility of mind, and in order that God may keep you while you persevere, do not you scorn your husband while he perishes. Pour forth for him devoted and constant prayers; offer the sacrifice of tears as though they were the blood of a stricken heart, and write him an apology, begging his forgiveness for that you sinned against him in doing with your property what you thought should be done, without asking his advice and consent; not that you should repent of having given to the poor, but of having refused to let your husband share and direct your good deeds. Promise for the future, with the help of the Lord, that, if he repents of his evil conduct and returns to the continence he had abandoned, you will be subject to him, as it is fitting you should be, in all things, if peradventure God will give him repentance and that he may recover himself out of the snare of the devil, by whom he is taken captive at his will. a And as for your son, who does not know that, since you got him in lawful and honourable wedlock, his father has greater authority over him than you have? So he cannot be denied him, when he learns his whereabouts and claims him by law. Hence, in order that he may be nurtured and trained, as you would have him, in the wisdom of God, it is essential for him too that you both should be in harmony.

Your devotion, my holy brethren, to our Lord Jesus

Christ, well known to me and often tested, has given me, though absent, reason to place reliance in that wherein I have been wont to rejoice when present: in spirit I am always with you, not only because the great sweetness of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ ever continueth its fragrance, but also because you do not suffer me, who am your servant in the Gospel, to endure any hardship. Now, our brother Fascius was being pressed for payment of a debt of seventeen solidi b by the tribute-gatherers and found for the moment no way of escape from his entanglement; wherefore, so as not to suffer bodily injury, he fled to the protection of Holy Church. c And as those tax-collectors were compelled to take their departure and so were unable to grant him a respite, they heaped on me the most grievous abuse, declaring that I ought to hand him over to them or to furnish the means where from they could receive the debt which they proved was owing them. I made the offer to Fascius to speak to you, holy brethren, about his needs, but, deterred by shame, he implored me not to do it. So I myself, under pressure of greater needs, accepted seventeen solidi from our brother Macedonius,a and these I immediately handed over on his behoof, while he promised that on a certain day he could meet the repayment, and agreed that if he was not able to meet it, an appeal should be made for him to that compassion of yours, which it is your habit to display as a brotherly feeling for our brethren.

Wherefore, now that he is absent, it remains for you to give your backing, not to him, for no one can apply compulsion to him in his absence, but to my promise, for with you my good name and fame are always present. For already the day on which he promised he would meet the debt, is past and gone, and I find no reply to make to him who gave me the amount on trust, save to do what I promised I would do. But since I had no information about this matter on the day of Pentecost, so that I might have made an appeal when the crowd at Church was greater than usual, I ask you to be good enough to take this letter as my voice, while in your hearts Our Lord and God speaks warning and exhortation; in Him you have put your trust, and He never leaves us so long as we fear and honour His name; in Him I too am united with you, although in body I seem to have departed from you; from Him comes the promise of the harvest of eternal life from this seed of good works, for the apostle says: And let us not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we faint not. As we therefore have opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith. a Since then he is of the household of faith, a member of the Christian Church, a Catholic brother of our own, for the satisfaction of whose needs I ask you to do what the Lord bids you do, do it without grudging, without complaint, and with gladness and cheerfulness; for your trust is in God, not in man, and He has promised that you will lose nothing of the things you do in mercy, but will receive them on that day with eternal usury. b And since the apostle himself says, But this I say, He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly, c you should understand that now is the time for us, while we are still in this life, to purchase with haste and cheerfulness the gift of eternal life: for when the end of the world comes, it will be given only to those who through faith have bought it for themselves before it was possible for them to see it.

I have written to the priests as well that, if there be any deficiency after the offering made by you, my holy friends, they should make it up from the Church's store, provided that you have all made cheerful offering, each man as he will; for whether the gift come from you or from the Church, it is all God's, vet your devotedness will be far more acceptable than the treasures of the Church, as the apostle says, Not because I desire a gift, but I desire that fruit may abound. d Gladden my heart, then, for I wish to have joy of your fruits;. for you are God's trees which even through my ministry He deigns to water with unceasing showers. e May the Lord keep you from all evil, both in this world and in the world to come, my well-beloved lords and much longed for brethren.

So important is the ceremony to which your brotherly affection invites me, that I should drag my poor body to you with willingness, were it not detained by weakness. I might have come, had it not been winter; I might have scorned the winter, had I been young; for either the glow of youth would have endured the rigour of the season, or else the glow of summer would have allayed the chill of age. As it is, my saintly lord, my holy and revered brother and fellow-priest, in winter I cannot bear so lengthy a journey since I must bear with me the frigidity of great age. I return the greeting that I owe to your merits: my own welfare I commend to your supplications, while beseeching the Lord myself that peace and prosperity may follow upon the dedication of so great a building.