On Christian Doctrine 4.6–4.12

Here someone may perhaps ask whether our authors, whose divinely inspired writings have formed the canon for us with most wholesome authority, should be called only wise, or eloquent as well. This question is very easily resolved for me and for those who think with me what I say. For where I understand them, nothing can seem to me not only wiser, but also more eloquent. And I dare to say that all who rightly understand what they say understand at the same time that they ought not to have spoken otherwise. For just as there is a certain eloquence that better befits youth, and another that befits old age, and it should no longer be called eloquence if it does not suit the person of the speaker, so there is a certain eloquence that befits men most worthy of the highest authority and plainly divine. With this they spoke; and no other befits them, nor does it befit others; for it suits them, but the humbler it seems, the higher it surpasses others, not by windiness but by solidity. Where, however, I do not understand them, their eloquence is less apparent to me, but I do not doubt that it is such as it is where I understand. The very obscurity of the divine and wholesome sayings had to be mingled with such eloquence, in which our understanding should make progress not only by discovery but also by exercise.

I could indeed, if there were time, show in the sacred writings of these men, whom divine providence provided to instruct us and to transfer us from this wicked world to the blessed world, all the virtues and ornaments of eloquence about which those people are puffed up who prefer their own language to the language of our authors, not by greatness but by swelling. But it is not the things these men have in common with the orators or poets of the pagans that delight me more than can be said in that eloquence; I admire and am amazed rather at this, that they used this eloquence of ours through another eloquence of their own in such a way that it was neither lacking in them nor prominent in them; because it was fitting for them neither to reject it nor to show it off; the one would happen if it were avoided, the other might be thought if it were easily recognized. And in the places where perhaps it is recognized by the learned, such things are said that the words in which they are said seem not to have been applied by the speaker, but to have been joined to the things themselves as if of their own accord; as if you understood wisdom proceeding from its own house, that is, from the breast of the wise man, and eloquence following like an inseparable handmaid even when not called.

For who does not see what the Apostle meant to say, and how wisely he said it: “We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation works patience, and patience proof, and proof hope; and hope does not put to shame, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us”? If anyone, so to speak, unskillfully skilled, were to contend here that the Apostle had followed the rules of the art of eloquence, would he not be laughed at by Christians learned and unlearned? And yet here is recognized the figure which is called κλῖμαξ in Greek, and in Latin by some gradatio, since they did not wish to call it scala (“ladder”), when words or ideas are connected one from another; as here we see patience connected from tribulation, proof from patience, hope from proof. Another ornament is also recognized: after some phrases, each finished by the tone of the voice, which we call members and clauses, and the Greeks κῶλα and κόμματα, there follows a rounded sentence or circuit, which they call περίοδος, whose members are held in suspense by the speaker's voice until it is finished by the last. For of those which precede the circuit, the first member is “because tribulation works patience”; the second, “and patience proof”; the third, “and proof hope.” Then the circuit itself is added, which is completed in three members, of which the first is “and hope does not put to shame”; the second, “because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts”; the third, “by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” These and similar things are taught in the art of style. Just as we do not say that the Apostle followed the rules of eloquence, so we do not deny that eloquence followed his wisdom.

Writing to the Corinthians in the second letter, he refutes certain false apostles from among the Jews, who were disparaging him; and since he is compelled to commend himself, ascribing this to himself as a kind of folly, how wisely he speaks, and how eloquently! But as the companion of wisdom and the leader of eloquence, following the one, going before the other, and not rejecting it as it follows. “I say again,” he says, “let no one think me foolish; otherwise, receive me as foolish, that I too may glory a little. What I speak, I do not speak according to God, but as it were in foolishness, in this confidence of glorying. Since many glory according to the flesh, I too will glory. For you gladly bear with the foolish, since you yourselves are wise. For you bear it if someone brings you into slavery, if someone devours you, if someone takes from you, if someone exalts himself, if someone strikes you in the face. I speak as to dishonor, as though we had been weak. But in whatever anyone dares (I speak in foolishness), I dare too. Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I. Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more. In labors more abundantly, in prisons more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in deaths often. From the Jews five times I received forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I suffered shipwreck; a night and a day I was in the depth of the sea; in journeys often, in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils from my own race, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brothers; in labor and hardship, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness: besides those things that are without, the daily pressure upon me, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn? If I must glory, I will glory in the things that concern my weakness.” How much wisdom there is in these words, those who are awake see. But with how great a river of eloquence they flow, even one who is snoring notices.

Further, one who knows recognizes that those clauses which the Greeks call κόμματα, and the members, and the circuits, of which I spoke a little before, being interspersed with most fitting variety, have made the whole form of this discourse, and as it were its face, by which even the unlearned are delighted and moved. For from where we began to insert this passage, there are circuits: the first is the smallest, that is, of two members; for circuits cannot have fewer than two members, though they can have more: so the first is, “I say again, let no one think me foolish.” Another follows of three members: “Otherwise, receive me as foolish, that I too may glory a little.” The third, which follows, has four members: “What I speak, I do not speak according to God, but as it were in foolishness, in this confidence of glorying.” The fourth has two: “Since many glory according to the flesh, I too will glory.” And the fifth has two: “For you gladly bear with the foolish, since you yourselves are wise.” The sixth too is of two members: “For you bear it if someone brings you into slavery.” Three clauses follow: “If someone devours you, if someone takes from you, if someone exalts himself.” Then three members: “If someone strikes you in the face, I speak as to dishonor, as though we had been weak.” A circuit of three members is added: “But in whatever anyone dares (I speak in foolishness), I dare too.” From here, single clauses being put as questions, single clauses are likewise given in answer, three to three: “Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I.” But when a fourth clause is put with a similar question, he answers not with another clause but with a member set against it: “Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more.” Then the four following clauses pour out, the questioning being most fittingly dropped: “In labors more abundantly, in prisons more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in deaths often.” Then a short circuit is interposed, since it is to be marked off by a suspended pronunciation, “From the Jews five times,” so that this is one member, to which the other is joined, “I received forty lashes less one.” From there he returns to clauses, and three are set down: “Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I suffered shipwreck.” A member follows: “A night and a day I was in the depth of the sea.” Then fourteen clauses flow forth with a most fitting rush: “In journeys often, in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils from my own race, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brothers; in labor and hardship, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.” After these he interposes a circuit of three members: “Besides those things that are without, the daily pressure upon me, the care of all the churches.” And to this he adds two members as an inquiry: “Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?” Finally this whole passage, as if panting, is concluded with a circuit of two members: “If I must glory, I will glory in the things that concern my weakness.” And what beauty and delight there is in the fact that after this rush, a little narrative being interposed, he in some way rests, and causes the hearer to rest, cannot be said enough. For he goes on to say: “The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is blessed forever, knows that I do not lie.” And then he narrates very briefly how he was in danger and how he escaped.

It would take long to go through the rest, or to show these things in other places of the holy Scriptures. What if I had also wished to show the figures of speech which are taught in that art, at least in the passages I have mentioned from the Apostle's eloquence? Would not serious men more easily think me excessive than any of the studious think me sufficient? When all these things are taught by masters, they are held of great value, bought at a great price, and sold with great boasting. I fear that I too smell of that boasting while I discuss these things in this way. But an answer had to be given to badly learned men who think our authors are to be despised, not because they do not have, but because they do not show off, the eloquence which these men love too much.

But perhaps someone thinks that I have chosen the apostle Paul as if he were our one eloquent writer. For where he says, “Even if I am unskilled in speech, yet not in knowledge,” he seems to have spoken as if conceding it to his detractors, not as if acknowledging it as true by confessing it. But if he had said, “I am indeed unskilled in speech, but not in knowledge,” it could in no way be understood otherwise. Knowledge he plainly did not hesitate to claim, without which he could not be the teacher of the Gentiles. Certainly, if we bring forward anything of his as an example of eloquence, we bring it from those letters which even his detractors, who wished his speech in person to be thought contemptible, admitted to be weighty and strong.

I see, then, that I must say something also about the eloquence of the prophets, where many things are veiled by figurative language. The more they seem covered by figurative words, the sweeter they become when they have been opened. But in this place I ought to mention something of such a kind that I am not compelled to expound what was said, but only to commend how it was said. And I shall do this above all from the book of that prophet who says that he was a shepherd or herdsman, and was taken from there by God and sent to prophesy to God's people. Yet not according to the Seventy translators, who, themselves also translating by the divine Spirit, seem to have said some things differently for this reason, that the reader's attention might be more prompted to search out the spiritual sense; hence also some things of theirs are more obscure, because more figurative; but as they have been translated from the Hebrew into the Latin language by the presbyter Jerome, skilled in both languages. When, then, he was rebuking the ungodly, the proud, the luxurious, and therefore the most neglectful of brotherly love, this prophet, a rustic or from rustics, cried out, saying: “Woe to you who are wealthy in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, you nobles, heads of the peoples, who enter the house of Israel with pomp! Pass over to Calneh, and see, and go from there to Hamath the great, and go down to Gath of the Philistines, and to all the best kingdoms of these, if their border is wider than your border. You who are set apart for the evil day, and draw near to the throne of iniquity; who sleep on beds of ivory and wanton on your couches; who eat the lamb from the flock and calves from the midst of the herd; who sing to the sound of the psaltery. Like David they thought they had instruments of song, drinking wine from bowls and anointed with the finest ointment; and they suffered nothing over the affliction of Joseph.” Would those who, as if learned and eloquent, despise our prophets as untaught and ignorant of style, have wished to speak otherwise, if they had had to say something of this kind or to such people, those of them at least who did not wish to rave?

For what is there that sober ears could desire more in this eloquence? First, the invective itself, with what a roar is it dashed against them, as if against drowsy senses, to wake them: “Woe to you who are wealthy in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, you nobles, heads of the peoples, who enter the house of Israel with pomp!” Then, to show them ungrateful for the benefits of God, who gave them the wide spaces of a kingdom, since they trusted in the mountain of Samaria, where of course idols were worshiped, he says: “Pass over to Calneh, and see, and go from there to Hamath the great, and go down to Gath of the Philistines, and to all the best kingdoms of these, if their border is wider than your border.” At the same time, while these things are said, the style is adorned with the names of places as with lights: Zion, Samaria, Calneh, Hamath the great, and Gath of the Philistines. Then the words joined to these places are most fittingly varied: “you are wealthy,” “you trust,” “pass over,” “go,” “go down.” Next the captivity to come under a wicked king is announced as approaching, when there is added: “You who are set apart for the evil day, and draw near to the throne of iniquity.” Then the deserts of luxury are added: “Who sleep on beds of ivory and wanton on your couches; who eat the lamb from the flock and calves from the midst of the herd.” These six members have produced three circuits of two members each. For he does not say: “You who are set apart for the evil day, who draw near to the throne of iniquity, who sleep on beds of ivory, who wanton on your couches, who eat the lamb from the flock and calves from the midst of the herd.” If it were said so, this too would be beautiful, that the six members should each run from one repeated pronoun, and each be finished by the speaker's voice; but it has been made more beautiful by having two attached to the same pronoun each time, setting out three ideas: one belonging to the foretelling of captivity, “You who are set apart for the evil day, and draw near to the throne of iniquity”; the second to lust, “Who sleep on beds of ivory and wanton on your couches”; the third to gluttony, “Who eat the lamb from the flock and calves from the midst of the herd.” So it is in the speaker's discretion either to finish each one, so that there are six members, or to suspend the first, third, and fifth with the voice, and, connecting the second to the first, the fourth to the third, and the sixth to the fifth, to make most fittingly three circuits of two members: one showing the impending calamity, the second the impure bed, the third the prodigal table.

Then he rebukes the luxurious pleasure of the ears. Here, when he had said, “Who sing to the sound of the psaltery,” since music can be practiced wisely by the wise, with a wonderful grace of speech, relaxing the rush of the invective and speaking no longer to them but about them, so as to remind us to distinguish the music of the wise man from the music of the luxurious, he does not say, “Who sing to the sound of the psaltery, and like David think you have instruments of song”; but when he had said to them what the luxurious ought to hear, “Who sing to the sound of the psaltery,” he also in a way pointed out their lack of skill to others, adding, “Like David they thought they had instruments of song, drinking wine from bowls and anointed with the finest ointment.” These three are better pronounced if the first two members of the circuit are suspended and they are finished with the third. And as for what is added to all these, “And they suffered nothing over the affliction of Joseph,” whether it is said continuously so as to be one member, or more fittingly suspended, “and they suffered nothing,” and after this pause there is added, “over the affliction of Joseph,” so that it is a circuit of two members: with wonderful grace it is not said, “they suffered nothing over the affliction of their brother,” but “Joseph” is put for “brother,” so that any brother is signified by the proper name of the one among the brothers whose fame is renowned, both for the evils he suffered and for the good he returned. Whether this trope, by which “Joseph” makes any brother understood, is taught in that art which we learned and taught, I do not know. But how beautiful it is, and how it affects those who read and understand it, there is no need to tell anyone who does not feel it himself.

And more things belonging to the rules of eloquence can be found in this very passage which we have set down as an example. But a good hearer is not so much instructed by its being carefully analyzed as he is set on fire by its being ardently delivered. For these things were not composed by human industry, but poured forth by the divine mind both wisely and eloquently; not wisdom intent on eloquence, but eloquence not departing from wisdom. For if, as certain very eloquent and acute men have been able to see and say, the things that are learned as the art of oratory would not have been observed and noted and reduced to this teaching unless they had first been found in the minds of orators, what wonder if they are found also in these men, whom he sent who makes minds? Therefore let us confess that our canonical authors and teachers are indeed eloquent, not only wise, with such eloquence as befitted persons of that kind.

But even if we take some examples of style from those of their writings which are understood without difficulty, we ought by no means to think that we should imitate them in those things which they said with a useful and wholesome obscurity, to exercise and in a way polish the minds of readers, to break down boredom and sharpen the zeal of those who wish to learn, and also to conceal them from the minds of the ungodly, whether so that these may be converted to piety or shut out from the mysteries. For they spoke in such a way that those who came after and understood and expounded them rightly might find another grace in the Church of God, unequal indeed, yet following upon theirs. Their expositors, then, ought not to speak as though they were putting themselves forward to be expounded with similar authority; but in all their discourses they should labor first and foremost to be understood, speaking with such clearness as they can, so that either the one who does not understand is very slow, or the reason why what we say is understood less or more slowly lies in the difficulty and subtlety of the things we wish to explain and show, not in our manner of speaking.

For there are some things which by their nature are not understood, or are scarcely understood, however much and however plainly they are turned over in the speech of the speaker; these should be put before a popular audience rarely, if something urges it, or never at all. But in books, which are written in such a way that they in a sense hold the reader to themselves when they are understood, and when they are not understood are not troublesome to those unwilling to read them, and in conversations with individuals, this duty must not be abandoned: to bring true things, however difficult to understand, which we have already grasped ourselves, to the understanding of others with whatever labor of argument, if the desire to learn holds the hearer or the person conversing with us, and capacity of mind is not lacking to receive what is conveyed in whatever way; the teacher caring not with how much eloquence he teaches, but with how much clarity.

An earnest desire for this clarity sometimes neglects more polished words, and does not care what sounds well but what indicates and conveys well what it intends to show. Hence someone, when he was treating of this kind of speech, said that there is in it a kind of careful carelessness. Yet this removes ornament in such a way as not to contract dirt. Although in good teachers there is, or ought to be, so great a concern for teaching that a word which cannot be correct Latin without being obscure or ambiguous, but is said in the popular way so that ambiguity and obscurity are avoided, should be said not as the learned say it, but rather as the unlearned are accustomed to say it. For if our translators were not ashamed to say, “I will not gather their assemblies from bloods,” because they felt it pertained to the matter that this noun, which in Latin is used only in the singular, should be expressed in the plural in that place, why should a teacher of piety, speaking to the unlearned, be ashamed to say ossum rather than os (“bone”), lest that syllable be understood not as the singular of ossa (“bones”) but of ora (“mouths”), since African ears do not judge the shortening or lengthening of vowels? For what does correctness of speech profit if the hearer's understanding does not follow it, since there is no reason at all for speaking if those for whose understanding we speak do not understand what we say? One who teaches, then, will avoid all words that do not teach; and if instead of them he can say other correct ones that are understood, he will choose that rather; but if he cannot, either because there are none or because they do not occur to him at the moment, he will use even less correct words, provided that the thing itself is taught and learned correctly.

And this applies not only to conversations, whether held with one person or with several; but much more, when a sermon is delivered to the people, we must press to be understood. For in conversations everyone has the power of asking questions; but where all are silent so that one may be heard, and turn their attentive faces toward him, there it is neither the custom nor fitting for each to ask about what he has not understood; and so the care of the speaker ought most of all to come to the help of the silent listener. A crowd eager to learn usually shows by its movement whether it has understood; until it shows this, what is being discussed must be turned over with many kinds of variety in speaking; which is not in the power of those who deliver what they have prepared and memorized word for word. But as soon as it is clear that it has been understood, either the sermon should be ended or one should pass on to other things. For just as one who clears up what is to be known is welcome, so one who drives home what is known is burdensome, at least to those whose whole expectation hung on the resolving of the difficulty of what was being opened up. For known things are also said for the sake of delight, where not the things themselves but the manner in which they are said is attended to. And if that too is already known and pleases the hearers, it makes almost no difference whether the one who speaks is a speaker or a reader. For things that have been aptly written are usually read with pleasure not only by those to whom they first become known, but are also reread not without pleasure by those to whom they are already known and have not yet been erased from memory by forgetfulness, or heard gladly by both. And what anyone has already forgotten, he is taught when he is reminded of it. But I am not now treating of the manner of delighting; I am speaking of the manner in which those who desire to learn are to be taught. That manner is best by which the hearer hears the truth and understands what he hears. When this end has been reached, no more labor should be spent on the matter itself as if it needed further teaching, but perhaps on commending it so that it may be fixed in the heart; and if this seems necessary, it must be done with such moderation as not to reach the point of tedium.

In teaching, this is precisely the eloquence by which speaking brings it about, not that what was repugnant becomes pleasing, or that what was disliked is done, but that what was hidden becomes clear. Yet if this is done without charm, its fruit reaches only a few very studious people, who desire to know what is to be learned, however humbly and roughly it is said. When they have obtained it, they feed with delight on the truth itself; and it is the mark of good minds to love the truth in the words, not the words. For what use is a golden key if it cannot open what we want? Or what harm is a wooden one if it can, since we seek nothing but that what is shut should be opened? But since those who eat and those who learn have some likeness to one another, because of the fastidiousness of most people even the foods without which one cannot live must be seasoned.

A certain eloquent man, then, said, and said truly, that the eloquent man ought to speak so as to teach, to delight, and to move. Then he added: “To teach is a matter of necessity, to delight of charm, to move of victory.” Of these three, the one put first, the necessity of teaching, lies in the things we say; the other two in the manner in which we say them. One who speaks when he wishes to teach, then, as long as he is not understood, should not think he has yet said what he wishes to the one he wishes to teach. For even if he has said what he himself understands, he is not to be thought to have said it yet to the one by whom it has not been understood; but if he has been understood, in whatever way he has said it, he has said it. But if he also wishes to delight or to move the one to whom he speaks, he will not do it in whatever way he speaks; but how he speaks matters for doing it. And just as the hearer must be delighted in order to be held to listening, so he must be moved in order to be stirred to action. And just as he is delighted if you speak with charm, so he is moved if he loves what you promise, fears what you threaten, hates what you condemn, embraces what you commend, grieves over what you magnify as grievous; when you proclaim something to be rejoiced over, he rejoices; he pities those whom by speaking you set before his eyes as pitiable; he flees those whom by terrifying you hold up as to be avoided; and whatever else can be done by grand eloquence to move the minds of hearers, not so that they may know what is to be done, but so that they may do what they already know is to be done.

But if they do not yet know, they must certainly be taught before they are moved. And perhaps, when the things themselves are known, they will be so moved that there is no need to move them by greater powers of eloquence. Yet when there is need, it must be done; and there is need when they know what is to be done and do not do it. And for this reason teaching is a matter of necessity. For people can both do and not do what they know. But who would say that they ought to do what they do not know? And so moving is not a matter of necessity, because it is not always needed, if the hearer assents to one who only teaches, or also delights. But moving is a matter of victory, because it can happen that someone is taught and delighted and does not assent. And what use will those two be, if this third is lacking? But neither is delighting a matter of necessity: for when true things are shown by speaking, which belongs to the duty of teaching, it is not done by eloquence, nor is the aim that either the things or the eloquence itself should delight, but they delight of themselves, because they are true, once they are made manifest. Hence even false things, when exposed and refuted, often delight. For they do not delight because they are false; but because it is true that they are false, the speech by which this has been shown to be true also delights.