On Christian Doctrine 4.21–4.28

But these apostolic writings are clear in such a way that they are also deep; and they were so written and committed to memory that they need not only a reader or hearer but also an expositor, if anyone, not content with the surface, seeks their depth. Let us therefore see these kinds of speaking in those who, by reading these writings, have advanced in the knowledge of divine and wholesome things and have ministered it to the Church.

The blessed Cyprian uses the subdued kind of speaking in that book where he discusses the sacrament of the cup. For there he resolves the question whether the Lord's cup ought to contain water alone or water mixed with wine. But by way of example something from it must be set down. After the beginning of the letter, then, as he begins to resolve the question proposed, he says: “Know that we have been admonished that in offering the cup the Lord's tradition should be kept, and that nothing else should be done by us than what the Lord first did for us, so that the cup which is offered in remembrance of him should be offered mixed with wine. For since Christ says, ‘I am the true vine,’ the blood of Christ is certainly not water but wine; nor can his blood, by which we have been redeemed and given life, be seen to be in the cup, when the wine is lacking from the cup by which the blood of Christ is shown, which is proclaimed by the sacrament and testimony of all the Scriptures. For we find in Genesis, in regard to the sacrament of Noah, that this same thing went before, and that a figure of the Lord's passion appeared there: that he drank wine, that he was drunk, that he was stripped in his house, that he lay with his thighs naked and uncovered; that his father's nakedness was noticed by the middle son but covered by the elder and the younger, and the rest, which there is no need to go through, since it is enough to grasp this alone, that Noah, showing a type of the truth to come, drank not water but wine, and so expressed an image of the Lord's passion. Likewise we see the sacrament of the Lord prefigured in the priest Melchizedek, according to what the divine Scripture testifies, saying: ‘And Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. He was priest of the most high God, and he blessed Abraham.’ And that Melchizedek bore a type of Christ the Holy Spirit declares in the Psalms, saying in the person of the Father to the Son: ‘Before the morning star I begot you. You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.’” These and the other things that follow in this letter keep to the manner of the subdued style, as readers can easily find out.

Saint Ambrose too, when he treats a great matter concerning the Holy Spirit, to show that he is equal to the Father and the Son, nevertheless uses the subdued kind of speaking; because the subject undertaken requires not ornaments of words, nor emotional stirring to move minds, but proofs of things. So, among other things, at the beginning of this work he says: “Gideon, moved by the divine word, when he had heard that, though thousands of the people failed, the Lord would free his people from their enemies through one man, offered a kid of the goats, whose flesh, according to the angel's command, he placed with unleavened bread upon a rock, and poured broth over them; and as soon as the angel of God touched them with the tip of the rod he was carrying, fire burst from the rock, and so the sacrifice that was offered was consumed. By this sign it seems to be declared that that rock bore a type of the body of Christ, because it is written, ‘They drank from the rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ.’ This certainly refers not to his divinity but to his flesh, which flooded the hearts of the thirsting peoples with the everlasting stream of his blood. Even then, therefore, it was declared in a mystery that the Lord Jesus, crucified in his flesh, would abolish the sins of the whole world, not only the offenses of deeds but also the desires of minds. For the flesh of the kid refers to the guilt of the deed, the broth to the allurements of desires, as it is written, ‘For the people lusted with a most evil lust, and they said, Who will feed us with flesh?’ That the angel stretched out his rod and touched the rock, from which fire came out, shows that the Lord's flesh, filled with the divine Spirit, would burn up all the sins of the human condition. Hence the Lord too says, ‘I came to cast fire on the earth,’” and the rest, in which he is chiefly occupied with teaching and proving the matter.

Of the temperate kind is that praise of virginity in Cyprian: “Now our discourse is to virgins, for whom the care is greater as their glory is more sublime. They are the flower of the Church's sprouting, the beauty and ornament of spiritual grace, a joyful nature of praise and honor, a work whole and incorrupt, the image of God answering to the holiness of the Lord, the more illustrious portion of Christ's flock. Through them, and in them abundantly, the glorious fruitfulness of mother Church rejoices and flourishes; and the more glorious virginity adds to its number, the more the mother's joy increases.” And in another place, at the end of the letter: “As we have borne,” he says, “the image of him who is of the clay, so let us also bear the image of him who is from heaven. This image virginity bears, integrity bears, holiness and truth bear; those bear it who are mindful of God's discipline, keeping justice with religion, steadfast in faith, humble in fear, strong for all endurance, gentle in bearing injuries, ready in doing mercy, of one mind and concord in brotherly peace. All of which you, good virgins, ought to observe, love, and fulfill, you who, free for God and Christ, go before toward the Lord to whom you have dedicated yourselves, in the greater and better part. You who are advanced in years, give teaching to the younger; you who are younger, give service to the older, and encouragement to your equals; rouse one another by mutual exhortations, provoke one another to glory by examples of virtue that rival each other; endure bravely, go on spiritually, arrive happily; only remember us then, when virginity begins to be honored in you.”

Ambrose too, in the temperate and ornate kind of speaking, sets before professed virgins, as in the form of an example, what they should imitate in their conduct, and says: “She was a virgin not only in body but also in mind, who did not corrupt her sincere affection by any circuit of guile: humble in heart, grave in words, prudent in mind, sparing in speech, eager in reading; placing her hope not in uncertain riches but in the prayer of the poor; intent on work, modest in speech; accustomed to seek as judge of her mind not man but God; to harm no one, to wish all well; to rise before her elders, not to envy her equals; to flee boasting, to follow reason, to love virtue. When did she hurt her parents even by a look? When did she disagree with her relatives? When did she disdain the lowly? When did she laugh at the weak? When did she avoid the needy? She was accustomed to visit only those gatherings of men which mercy need not blush at nor modesty pass by. Nothing fierce in her eyes, nothing forward in her words, nothing immodest in her action; no effeminate gesture, no loose gait, no wanton voice; so that the very appearance of her body was an image of her mind, a figure of uprightness. For a good house ought to be recognized in its very entrance, and show at the first entering that no darkness lies hidden within, as the light of a lamp set within shines outside. Why should I go through her sparing use of food and her abundance of services, the one going beyond nature, the other almost falling short of nature itself? In the latter no times were left out; in the former days were doubled in fasting; and if ever the wish to take refreshment came, food was usually what was at hand, to keep off death, not to supply delights,” and so on. I have put these as an example of this temperate kind because he is not here urging those who have not yet vowed virginity to vow it, but describing what those already vowed ought to be like. For to lead the mind to undertake so great and such a resolve, it must certainly be roused and kindled by the grand kind of speaking. But the martyr Cyprian wrote about the dress of virgins, not about undertaking the resolve of virginity. This bishop, however, kindles them even to this with great eloquence.

But I shall cite examples of the grand style from a matter both of them treated. For both inveighed against women who color, or rather discolor, their appearance with cosmetics. The former, when treating this, says among other things: “If some painter had depicted someone's face, appearance, and bodily form in rivaling color, and, when the likeness was already depicted and finished, another were to lay hands on it, as if, being more skilled, he would reshape what was already formed and painted, it would seem a serious injury to the first artist and a just cause for indignation. Do you think that you will get away unpunished with the boldness of such shameless rashness, an offense against God the artist? For though you are not unchaste toward men, and not impure by alluring cosmetics, yet, having corrupted and violated what is God's, you are held to be a worse adulteress. That you think you are being adorned, that you think you are being dressed up, is an assault on the divine work, a betrayal of truth. The voice of the warning Apostle is: ‘Purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, as you are unleavened. For Christ our Passover has been sacrificed. Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.’ Do sincerity and truth persevere when what is sincere is polluted, and true things are changed into a lie by adulterous colors and the disguises of cosmetics? Your Lord says, ‘You cannot make one hair white or black’; and you wish to be stronger, so as to overcome the voice of your Lord. With bold endeavor and sacrilegious contempt you dye your hair; with an evil omen of the future you already make your hair flame-colored.” It would take long to insert all that follows.

The latter, to speak against such women, says: “From this arise those incitements to vices, that they paint their faces with sought-out colors while they fear to displease men, and from the adultery of their faces meditate the adultery of their chastity. What madness this is, to change the likeness of nature, to seek a painting, and, while they fear their husband's judgment, to betray their own! For she who wishes to change what she was born pronounces first on herself: so, while she strives to please another, she first displeases herself. What truer judge of your ugliness, woman, shall we seek than yourself, who fear to be seen? If you are beautiful, why do you hide? If ugly, why do you lie that you are beautiful, to gain the favor neither of your own conscience nor of another's error? For he loves another woman; you wish to please another man; and you are angry if he loves another, who is being taught adultery in you. You are a bad teacher of your own injury. For even a woman who has suffered a procurer refuses to act the procuress; and though she is a cheap woman, she sins not against another but against herself. The crimes in adultery are almost more tolerable; for there chastity is adulterated, here nature.” It is clear enough, I think, that by this eloquence women are forcefully driven, both to shame and to fear, not to adulterate their appearance with cosmetics. Therefore we recognize this kind of style as neither subdued nor temperate, but wholly grand. And in these two whom I chose to set forth out of all, and in other churchmen who say good things, and say them well, that is, as the matter requires, sharply, ornately, and ardently, these three kinds can be found in many of their writings or sermons, and can grow ingrained in students by constant reading or hearing, with practice added too.

Nor should anyone think it contrary to the rules of the art to mix these; rather, as far as can fittingly be done, speech should be varied with all the kinds. For when it is long drawn out in one kind, it holds the hearer less. But when there is a passage from one to another, even if it is rather long, the discourse proceeds more fittingly; although each kind too has its own varieties in the speech of the eloquent, by which they do not allow the feelings of their hearers to grow cold or lukewarm. Yet the subdued style alone can be tolerated longer than the grand style alone. For the more the emotion of the mind must be aroused so that the hearer may agree with us, the less long it can be held in that state once it has been aroused as much as is sufficient. And so we must beware lest, while we wish to raise higher what has been raised, it falls even from the point to which it had been brought by the arousing. But when things that are to be said in a more subdued way are interposed, one returns well to the things that need to be said grandly, so that the surge of speech ebbs and flows like the tide of the sea. Hence it is that the grand kind of speaking, if it must be continued for some time, ought not to be alone, but varied by the interposition of the other kinds; yet the whole speech is assigned to the kind which has predominated in quantity.

For it matters which kind is interposed into which, or applied, at certain necessary points. For even in the grand style the beginnings should always, or almost always, be temperate. And it is in the power of the eloquent man to say some things in a subdued way that could be said grandly, so that the things that are said grandly may be made grander by comparison with them and more luminous, as it were, by their shadows. But in whatever kind some knots of questions are to be untied, sharpness is needed, which the subdued kind properly claims for itself. And so that kind is to be used in the other two kinds too, when such things occur in them; just as, when something is to be praised or blamed, where neither anyone's condemnation nor acquittal, nor assent to any action, is required, in whatever other kind it occurs, the temperate kind is to be applied and interposed. In the grand kind, then, the other two find their places, and likewise in the subdued. The temperate kind, however, needs the subdued, not always indeed, but sometimes, if, as I said, a question whose knot must be untied comes up; or when some things that could be adorned are not adorned for that reason, but are said in subdued speech, so as to give a more prominent place to certain ornaments, as to raised borders, so to speak. But the temperate style does not require the grand: for it is undertaken to delight minds, not to move them.

Certainly, if a speaker is applauded more often and more loudly, he is not on that account to be thought to be speaking in the grand style; for the sharpness of the subdued kind and the ornaments of the temperate also produce this. The grand kind, however, usually presses down voices by its weight, but presses out tears. Indeed, when at Caesarea in Mauretania I was dissuading the people from a civil war, or rather worse than civil, which they called the Caterva (for not only citizens, but even relatives, brothers, and finally parents and children, divided into two sides, fought one another with stones for several days in succession, solemnly, at a fixed time of year, and each killed whomever he could), I spoke indeed in the grand style, as far as I was able, to tear out and drive by speaking so cruel and inveterate an evil from their hearts and customs; yet I did not think I had achieved anything when I heard them applauding, but when I saw them weeping. For by their applause they showed that they were being taught and delighted, but by their tears that they were being moved. When I saw these, I believed that that monstrous custom, handed down from their fathers and grandfathers and from their ancestors long before, which was besieging, or rather possessing, their hearts like an enemy, was overcome, before they showed it in fact. And as soon as the sermon was finished, I turned their hearts and mouths to giving thanks to God. And behold, it is now about eight years or more, by the favor of Christ, since nothing of the kind has been attempted there. There are many other experiences too by which we have learned that people have shown what the grandeur of a wise man's speech has done in them, not by applause but rather by groaning, sometimes even by tears, and finally by a change of life.

Many too have been changed by the subdued kind of speaking; but so as to know what they did not know, or to believe what seemed incredible to them; not so as to do what they already knew was to be done and were unwilling to do. For to bend hardness of this kind one must speak grandly. For even praises and censures, when they are spoken eloquently, though they belong to the temperate kind, so affect some people that they are not only delighted by the eloquence in the praises and censures, but themselves seek to live praiseworthily and shun living blameworthily. But are all who are delighted changed, as in the grand kind all who are moved act, and in the subdued kind all who are taught know, or believe to be true what they did not know?

From this it is gathered that what those two kinds aim to accomplish is most necessary for those who wish to speak wisely and eloquently. But what is done in the temperate kind, namely that eloquence itself should delight, is not to be employed for its own sake; but so that for things that are said usefully and honorably, if they need neither teaching nor moving speech, because they have hearers who both know and are favorable, assent may come somewhat more readily, or cling more tenaciously, from the very delight in the style. For since the universal duty of eloquence, in whichever of these three kinds, is to speak in a way suited to persuasion, and the end, what you intend, is to persuade by speaking, in whichever of these three kinds the eloquent man speaks indeed in a way suited to persuasion, but unless he persuades, he does not reach the end of eloquence. In the subdued kind he persuades that what he says is true; in the grand, that what is already known should be done is done; in the temperate kind he persuades that he is speaking beautifully and ornately: what need have we of this end? Let those seek it who glory in their tongue and show themselves off in panegyrics and speeches of that kind, where the hearer is neither to be taught nor moved to do anything, but only delighted. But let us refer this end to another end, namely that what we wish to accomplish when we speak grandly we should wish to accomplish by this too, that is, that good conduct be loved or evil avoided; if people are not so estranged from this action that they seem to need to be urged to it by the grand kind of speaking; or, if they are already doing it, that they may do it more zealously and persevere in it firmly. So it comes about that we use even the ornament of the temperate kind not boastfully but prudently; not content with its end, by which the hearer is only delighted, but aiming rather that by it too he may be helped toward the good of which we wish to persuade him.

So those three things which we set out above, that one who speaks wisely, if he also wishes to speak eloquently, ought to aim at being heard with understanding, with pleasure, and with obedience, are not to be taken as though each were assigned to one of those three kinds of speaking, so that being heard with understanding belongs to the subdued, with pleasure to the temperate, and with obedience to the grand; but rather so that he always aims at these three, and achieves them as far as he can, even when he is engaged in any one of those kinds. For we do not wish even what we say in a subdued way to be found tiresome; and so we wish to be heard not only with understanding but also with pleasure. And what do we aim at, when we teach what we say by divine testimonies, but to be heard with obedience, that is, that they be believed, with the help of him to whom it is said, “Your testimonies have become very credible”? What does one who narrates something to learners, even in subdued speech, desire but to be believed? And who would wish to hear him unless he holds the hearer with some charm too? For if he is not understood, who does not know that he can be heard neither with pleasure nor with obedience?

Often, however, the subdued style itself, when it resolves very difficult questions and demonstrates them with an unexpected clarity; when it digs out and shows very sharp ideas from some caves, as it were, where they were not expected; when it convicts an opponent's error and teaches that what seemed to be said invincibly by him is false; especially when there is in it a certain grace that is not sought but in a way natural, and some rhythm of closes, not showy but as it were necessary, and, so to speak, wrung out by the things themselves: it arouses such applause that it is scarcely understood to be subdued. For because it goes forth neither adorned nor armed, but engages as if naked, it does not on that account fail to crush its opponent with sinews and muscles, and to overthrow and destroy resisting falsehood with very strong limbs. And why are those who speak in this way frequently and much applauded, except that truth so demonstrated, so defended, so invincible, delights? In this subdued kind, then, this teacher and speaker of ours ought to aim at being heard not only with understanding but also with pleasure and with obedience.

That eloquence of the temperate kind too, in the eloquent churchman, is neither left unadorned nor indecently adorned; nor does it aim only at delighting, which is all that it professes among others; but in the things it praises or blames, so that the former may be sought or held more firmly and the latter avoided or rejected, it certainly wishes to be heard with obedience. And if it is not heard with understanding, it cannot be heard with pleasure either. Therefore those three, that those who hear may understand, be delighted, and obey, must be aimed at in this kind too, where delight holds the chief place. Now where there is need to move and bend the hearer in the grand kind (which is needed when he admits that something is said truly and pleasingly, and yet does not wish to do what is said), one must without doubt speak grandly. But who is moved if he does not know what is said? Or who is held to listen if he is not delighted? Hence in this kind too, where the hard heart is to be bent to obedience by the grandeur of speech, unless the speaker is heard both with understanding and with pleasure, he cannot be heard with obedience.

But for being heard with obedience, the speaker's life has greater weight than any grandeur of speech. For one who speaks wisely and eloquently, but lives wickedly, does indeed instruct many who are eager to learn, though he is useless to his own soul, as it is written. Hence the Apostle too says: “Whether in pretense or in truth, let Christ be proclaimed.” Now Christ is the truth, and yet the truth can be proclaimed even not in truth: that is, things that are right and true can be preached with a wicked and deceitful heart. For so Jesus Christ is proclaimed by those who seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. But since good believers listen with obedience not to just any man, but to the Lord himself, who says, “What they say, do; but what they do, do not do; for they say and do not do,” those who do not act profitably are nevertheless heard profitably. For they are eager to seek their own interests, but they do not dare to teach their own things, namely from the higher place of the church's chair, which sound teaching has established. That is why the Lord himself, before he said what I have mentioned about such people, said first, “They have sat on the chair of Moses.” That chair, then, not theirs but Moses', compelled them to say good things even when they did not do good things. So they did their own things in their life; but the chair, which was another's, did not allow them to teach their own things.

So they benefit many by saying what they do not do; but they would benefit far more by doing what they say. For there are plenty who seek a defense of their own bad life from their very superiors and teachers, answering in their heart, or even, if they break out so far, with their mouth, and saying: “What you command me, why do you not do it yourself?” So it comes about that they do not listen with obedience to one who does not listen to himself, and they despise the word of God which is preached to them together with the preacher himself. Finally the Apostle, writing to Timothy, when he had said, “Let no one despise your youth,” added how he might not be despised, and said, “But be an example to the believers in word, in conduct, in love, in faith, in chastity.”

Such a teacher, in order to be heard with obedience, speaks without impudence not only in the subdued and temperate styles but also in the grand style, because he does not live contemptibly. For he chooses a good life in such a way as not to neglect a good reputation either, but to provide what is good before God and men, as far as he can, fearing the one and caring for the others. In his discourse itself, too, let him prefer to please by things rather than by words; and let him not think anything better said unless it is more truly said; nor let the teacher serve the words, but the words the teacher. For this is what the Apostle says: “Not in wisdom of word, lest the cross of Christ be made void.” To this also applies what he says to Timothy: “Do not quarrel about words; for it is useful for nothing but the subversion of the hearers.” For this was not said so that we should say nothing for the truth when opponents attack it. And then where would be what he says, among other things, when he showed what kind of man a bishop ought to be: “that he may be able in sound teaching to refute those who contradict”? For to quarrel about words is to care not how error may be overcome by truth, but how your speech may be preferred to another's. But one who does not quarrel about words, whether he speaks in the subdued, temperate, or grand style, aims by his words that truth may be made plain, that truth may please, that truth may move; since not even love, which is the end of the commandment and the fulfillment of the Law, can in any way be right if the things loved are not true but false. And just as one who has a beautiful body and an ugly soul is more to be pitied than if he also had an ugly body, so those who say false things eloquently are more to be pitied than if they said such things in an ugly way. What, then, is it to speak not only eloquently but also wisely, except to use words that are adequate in the subdued kind, splendid in the temperate, forceful in the grand, but about true things which ought to be heard? But one who cannot do both should say wisely what he cannot say eloquently, rather than say eloquently what he says foolishly.