To Pammachius.
15From all which considerations it is clear that I have said nothing at all new concerning virginity and marriage, but have followed in all respects the judgment of older writers—of Ambrose, that is to say, and others who have discussed the doctrines of the Church. “And I would sooner follow them in their faults than copy the dull pedantry of the writers of to-day.” Let married men, if they please, swell with rage because I have said, “I ask you, what kind of good thing is that which forbids a man to pray, and which prevents him from receiving the body of Christ?” When I do my duty as a husband, I cannot fulfil the requirements of continence. The same apostle, in another place, commands us to pray always. “But if we are always to pray we must never yield to the claims of wedlock for, as often as I render her due to my wife, I incapacitate myself for prayer.” When I spoke thus it is clear that I relied on the words of the apostle: “Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to…prayer.” The Apostle Paul tells us that when we have intercourse with our wives we cannot pray. If, then, sexual intercourse prevents what is less important—that is, prayer—how much more does it prevent what is more important—that is, the reception of the body of Christ? Peter, too, exhorts us to continence, that our “prayers be not hindered.” How, I should like to know, have I sinned in all this? What have I done? How have I been in fault? If the waters of a stream are thick and muddy, it is not the river-bed which is to blame, but the source. Am I attacked because I have ventured to add to the words of the apostle these words of my own: “What kind of good thing is that which prevents a man from receiving the body of Christ?” If so, I will make answer briefly thus: Which is the more important, to pray or to receive Christ’s body? Surely to receive Christ’s body. If, then, sexual intercourse hinders the less important thing, much more does it hinder that which is the more important.
I have said in the same treatise that David and they that were with him could not have lawfully eaten the shew-bread had they not made answer that for three days they had not been defiled with women —not, of course, with harlots, intercourse with whom was forbidden by the law, but with their own wives, to whom they were lawfully united. Moreover, when the people were about to receive the law on Mount Sinai they were commanded to keep away from their wives for three days. I know that at Rome it is customary for the faithful always to receive the body of Christ, a custom which I neither censure nor indorse. “Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.” But I appeal to the consciences of those persons who after indulging in sexual intercourse on the same day receive the communion—having first, as Persius puts it, “washed off the night in a flowing stream,” and I ask such why they do not presume to approach the martyrs or to enter the churches.
Is Christ of one mind abroad and of another at home? What is unlawful in church cannot be lawful at home. Nothing is hidden from God. “The night shineth as the day” before Him. Let each man examine himself, and so let him approach the body of Christ. Not, of course, that the deferring of communion for one day or for two makes a Christian any the holier or that what I have not deserved to-day I shall deserve to-morrow or the day after. But if I grieve that I have not shared in Christ’s body it does help me to avoid for a little while my wife’s embraces, and to prefer to wedded love the love of Christ. A hard discipline, you will say, and one not to be borne. What man of the world could bear it? He that can bear it, I reply, let him bear it; he that cannot must look to himself. It is my business to say, not what each man can do or will do, but what the Scriptures inculcate.
16Again, objection has been taken to my comments on the apostle in the following passage:
“But lest any should suppose from the context of the words before quoted (namely, ‘that ye may give yourselves…to prayer and come together again’) that the apostle desires this consummation, and does not merely concede it to obviate a worse downfall, he immediately adds, ‘that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency.’ ‘And come together again.’ What a noble indulgence the words convey! One which he blushes to speak of in plainer words, which he prefers only to Satan’s temptation, and which has its root in incontinence. Do we labor to expound this as a dark saying when the writer has himself explained his meaning? ‘I speak this,’ he says, ‘by way of permission, and not as a command.’ Do we still hesitate to speak of wedlock as a thing permitted instead of as a thing enjoined? or are we afraid that such permission will exclude second or third marriages or some other case?” What have I said here which the apostle has not said? The phrase, I suppose, “which he blushes to speak of in plainer words.” I imagine that when he says “come together,” and does not mention for what, he takes a modest way of indicating what he does not like to name openly—that is, sexual intercourse. Or is the objection to the words which follow—“which he prefers only to Satan’s temptation, and which has its root in incontinence”? Are they not the very words of the apostle, only differently arranged—“that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency”? Or do people cavil because I said, “Do we still hesitate to speak of wedlock as a thing permitted instead of as a thing enjoined?” If this seems a hard saying, it should be ascribed to the apostle, who says, “But I speak this by way of permission, and not as a command,” and not to me, who, except that I have rearranged their order, have changed neither the words nor their meaning.
17The shortness of a letter compels me to hasten on. I pass, accordingly, to the points which remain. “I say,” remarks the apostle, “to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they cannot contain, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn.” This section I have interpreted thus: “When he has granted to those who are married the use of wedlock, and has made clear his own wishes and concessions, he passes on to those who are unmarried or widows, and sets before them his own example. He calls them happy if they abide even as he, but he goes on, ‘if they cannot contain, let them marry.’ He thus repeats his former language, ‘but only to avoid fornication,’ and ‘that Satan tempt you not for your incontinence.’ And when he says, ‘If they cannot contain, let them marry,’ he gives as a reason for his words that ‘it is better to marry than to burn.’ It is only good to marry, because it is bad to burn. But take away the fire of lust, and he will not say ‘it is better to marry.’ For a thing is said to be better in antithesis to something which is worse, and not simply in contrast with what is admittedly good. It is as though he said, ‘It is better to have one eye than none.’” Shortly afterwards, apostrophizing the apostle, I spoke thus: “If marriage is good in itself, do not compare it with a conflagration, but simply say, ‘It is good to marry.’ I must suspect the goodness of a thing which only becomes a lesser evil in the presence of a greater one. I, for my part, would have it not a lighter evil but a downright good.” The apostle wishes unmarried women and widows to abstain from sexual intercourse, incites them to follow his own example, and calls them happy if they abide even as he. But if they cannot contain, and are tempted to quench the fire of lust by fornication rather than by continence, it is better, he tells them, to marry than to burn. Upon which precept I have made this comment: “It is good to marry, simply because it is bad to burn,” not putting forward a view of my own, but only explaining the apostle’s precept, “It is better to marry than to burn;” that is, it is better to take a husband than to commit fornication. If, then, you teach that burning or fornication is good, the good will still be surpassed by what is still better.
But if marriage is only a degree better than the evil to which it is preferred, it cannot be of that unblemished perfection and blessedness which suggest a comparison with the life of angels. Suppose I say, “It is better to be a virgin than a married woman;” in this case I have preferred to what is good what is still better. But suppose I go a step further and say, “It is better to marry than to commit fornication;” in that case I have preferred, not a better thing to a good thing, but a good thing to a bad one. There is a wide difference between the two cases; for, while virginity is related to marriage as better is to good, marriage is related to fornication as good is to bad. How, I should like to know, have I sinned in this explanation? My fixed purpose was not to bend the Scriptures to my own wishes, but simply to say what I took to be their meaning. A commentator has no business to dilate on his own views; his duty is to make plain the meaning of the author whom he professes to interpret. For, if he contradicts the writer whom he is trying to expound, he will prove to be his opponent rather than his interpreter. When I am freely expressing my own opinion, and not commenting upon the Scriptures, then any one that pleases may charge me with having spoken hardly of marriage. But if he can find no ground for such a charge, he should attribute such passages in my commentaries as appear severe or harsh to the author commented on, and not to me, who am only his interpreter.