Augustine of Hippo, Letters

I received the letter of your Excellency, in which you ask me to write to you. This assuredly you would not have done unless you had esteemed acceptable and pleasant that which you suppose me capable of writing to you. In other words, I assume that, having desired the vanities of this life when you had not tried them, now, after the trial has been made, you despise them, because in them the pleasure is deceitful, the labour fruitless, the anxiety perpetual, the elevation dangerous. Men seek them at first through imprudence, and give them up at last with disappointment and remorse. This is true of all the things which, in the cares of this mortal life, are coveted with more eagerness than wisdom by the uneasy solicitude of the men of the world. But it is wholly otherwise with the hope of the pious: very different is the fruit of their labours, very different the reward of their dangers. Fear and grief, and labour and danger are unavoidable, so long as we live in this world; but the great question is, for what cause, with what expectation, with what aim a man endures these things. When, indeed, I contemplate the lovers of this world, I know not at what time wisdom can most opportunely attempt their moral improvement; for when they have apparent prosperity, they reject disdainfully her salutary admonitions, and regard them as old wives fables; when, again, they are in adversity, they think rather of escaping merely from present suffering than of obtaining the real remedy by which they may be made whole, and may arrive at that place where they shall be altogether exempt from suffering. Occasionally, however, some open their ears and hearts to the truth,—rarely in prosperity, more frequently in adversity. These are indeed the few, for such it is predicted that they shall be. Among these I desire you to be, because I love you truly, my noble lord and most excellent and loving son. Let this counsel be my answer to your letter, because though I am unwilling that you should henceforth suffer such things as you have endured, yet I would grieve still more if you were found to have suffered these things without any change for the better in your life.

EPISTOLA CCIII . Augustinus Largo, ut bona saeculi hujus vana expertus contemnat, utque ex perpessione malorum melior evadat.

Domino insigni et praestantissimo, et desiderantissimo filio LARGO , AUGUSTINUS, in Domino salutem.

Accepi litteras Eximietatis tuae, quibus me ad te petisti ut scriberem. Quod quidem non desiderares, nisi et hoc quod me posse scribere existimasti, gratum haberes atque jucundum. Id autem est, ut vana saeculi hujus, si inexperta concupisti, experta contemnas. Fallax est enim in eis suavitas, et infructuosus labor, et perpetuus timor, et periculosa sublimitas. Initium sine providentia, et finis cum poenitentia. Ita se habent omnia quae in ista mortalitatis aerumna cupidius quam prudentius appetuntur. Alia est autem spes piorum, alius laboris fructus, alia periculorum merces. Nam in hoc mundo non timere, non dolere, non laborare, non periclitari impossibile est: sed plurimum interest qua causa, qua exspectatione, quo termino ista quisque patiatur. Ego quidem cum amatores saeculi hujus intueor, nescio quando possit esse ad eorum animos sanandos opportuna sapientia: quando enim res velut prosperas habent, fastu respuunt salubres monitus, et quasi anilem reputant cantilenam; quando autem in adversis agunt, magis cogitant evadere unde ad praesens anguntur, quam capere unde curentur, et unde perveniant ubi angi omnino non possint. Aliquando tamen quidam cordis aures admovent atque adhibent veritati, rarius inter prospera, crebrius inter adversa; sed tamen pauci sunt, ita enim praedicti sunt: inter quos te esse cupio, quia veraciter diligo, domine insignis et praestantissime, ac desiderantissime fili. Haec admonitio tibi sit mea resalutatio, quia etsi te deinceps talia perpeti qualia pertulisti, nolo; plus tamen doleo haec ipsa te sine aliqua in melius vitae mutatione fuisse perpessum.