leaders in the hallowed enterprise. Their children should be the earliest to lisp hosannas to the Son of David. The closet, the family altar, the social circle, the religious singing-school, the house of God, should all bear testimony to the beauty, the frequency, and the fervor of their offerings of praise.

The time is not distant when the glory of the Lord shall fill the whole earth; when the rocks and the hills and the valleys and the islands and the depths of the sea shall reverberate with the songs of holy joy. How delightful the thought! What a lively picture will such a scene afford of that place where the pure rivers of pleasure are forever flowing from the throne of God! There praise is an employment that shall never end. How pure, how sweet, how hallowed, how transporting must be the anthems of the blessed inhabitants above! Let us so cultivate the praises of God below, as to be prepared at length to unite in the universal, endless songs of heaven.

ARTICLE V.

AUGUSTINE AS A SACRED ORATOR.

By Rev. O. A. Taylor, Manchester, Mass.

THE following article, drawn up in substance several years since, at the suggestion of Dr. Porter, late President of Andover Theological Seminary, is an extract from a larger work, originally intended to contain a brief history of the pulpit from the beginning of the Christian church to the present time. It was to have for its basis a similar work by John William Schmid,* formerly professor of theology at Jena, with such alterations and additions as the case might seem to demand, to constitute substantially, however, an independent production. As much has been already said in previous numbers of the Repository, respecting the life and education of Augustine, it has been

* J. W. Schmid was born in 1744, and died 1798. His work is entitled, "Anleitung zum populären Kanzelvortrag. 3te Ausg. 3 Theile. Th. III. herausgeg. von C. C. E. Schmid," Prof. of Phil. at the same place, who was born in 1761, and died in 1812. It was the third part of the preceding work which was proposed as the basis of this history.

thought best to omit the most that I had written on this part of the subject.*

Augustine is ranked among the most distinguished of the Fathers of the western church, and claims our particular attention as one of her most pious and eloquent preachers. He was born under the reign of Constantius, at Tagaste, a small town of Numidia in Africa, Nov. 13th, A. D. 357. Both of his parents were anxious to have him acquire skill in the liberal arts, but each from different motives. His father, who was a heathen, until near the close of life, had in view his promotion in the world; his mother, who was a very pious woman, his usefulness in the church, and the cause of true religion.

Under such circumstances, Augustine's education received, of course, every attention. His mother began to labor for his spiritual good in his very infancy, teaching him to pray, and endeavoring, with ceaseless assiduity, to imbue his mind and heart with the principles of Christianity. His father, for the accomplishment of his object, early sent him to a public school, at Madaura, near by; and, indeed, though not rich, as long as he lived, took great pains with his son's education. After the father's death, which occurred in Augustine's 17th year, the mother, buoyed up with hopes of the conversion and future usefulness of her child in the church of God, endeavored to complete what her husband had commenced.

Augustine early evinced strong powers of mind, a retentive memory, and great susceptibility of emotion. To the lighter kinds of Roman literature he soon became enthusiastically attached, particularly to the poets. He never read Virgil's account of the death of Dido, without tears. In his trials of skill with his companions, he usually excelled; and for his literary essays he often obtained the plaudits of his hearers, so that he was called a lad of promising genius. Nor did the increase of years belie the promise of his youth, in this particular. In other respects, however, the mother had every thing to quench her ardor. To all kinds of severe disciplinary study, her son was utterly averse.

* In addition to Schmid, as above referred to, the following authorities have been consulted: Augustini Opp., studio Benedict. Cong. St. Maur., Ant. 1700-3; Schröckh's christ. Kirchengeschichte; Du Pin's Hist. of Eccl. Writers, translated from the French; Cave's Scriptorum Eccl. Historia; Butler's Lives; Milner's History of the Church of Christ; Mosheim; etc.

Hence, he never made much progress in the Greek. As to religion, he not only had none, but he showed himself reckless to the last degree. Take his own confession, as sufficient proof on this point. He is speaking of himself, while at Carthage, in the 17th year of his age. "I came to this place," says he, in substance," with the flames of flagitious lusts burning around me, on every side. As yet I knew nothing of the love of God, although abundantly devoted to other loves. Famishing with secret poverty, I could not bear the thoughts of becoming less poor. I constantly ran out in pursuit of the object of my affections; wholly devoted to worldly things, and turned away in disgust from the snareless road of heavenly security."*

But the prayers of the mother, in behalf of the son, at length prevailed. After a long and vicious course, during which he had acquired great reputation as a teacher of rhetoric in various places, he was arrested by the Holy Spirit at Milan, under the preaching of the pious Ambrose, and hopefully converted to God.

Soon after this happy event, accompanied by his now joyful mother, who had followed him thither, Augustine set out for his native place. On this journey, while waiting at Ostia for a passage, he lost his mother. The account which he gives of this event in his Confessions,† is so excellent and affecting, that I shall be pardoned, I trust, for presenting the reader with the substance of it, in a translation. It will serve at least to exhibit the spirit of the man.

By thy secret appointment it so happened that, a few days before her death, she and I stood alone reclining on a window which overlooked a garden, in a house at the mouth of the Tiber; where, remote from crowds, we were, after the fatigues of a long journey, preparing for the voyage before us. There, all alone, we conversed very sweetly together; and, forgetting the past, launched out into the future, endeavoring, as with truth present, mutually to obtain correct views respecting the nature of thy being and that eternal life of the saints, the things of which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived. We sincerely panted after those celestial streams which flow from thee, the fountain of life; in order that thence, sprinkled according to our capacity, we might in any wise rightly contemplate so great a theme.

* Aug. Conf. Lib. III. c. 1. The original, in Augustine's characteristic style, is made up of quibbles and a continual playing upon words.

† Augustine Opp. Tom. I. Lib. IX. c. 10 § 23, p. 121.

Having drawn out our discourse to this point, that no carnal delights, how great soever their pleasure and worldly brilliancy, were worthy of being compared or were so much as named, with the joys of the life to come, we aroused ourselves, with a more ardent affection in contemplations upon this same subject, passing, by degrees, through all the material creation, and even that heaven itself, from which the sun, moon and stars illumine the earth. We ascended, as we reflected, conversed and admired thy works, and came to the consideration of our own minds, and passed beyond them, that we might arrive at the region of perfect fulness, where thou feedest Israel forever with truth; and where life is wisdom, the generator of all things, both those which have been, and those which are unmade itself, but forever existing, just as it was, and thus forever to exist; nay, rather which has neither past nor future, but only the present, since it is eternal, and what either has been, or is about to be, is not eternal. While conversing and panting after this wisdom in full impulse of soul we measurably reached it, and breathed forth our desires, and left there, fast secured, the first fruits of the Spirit, and returned again to the sound of our voice, where the word has its origin and its ending, -unlike thy Word, our Lord himself, renovating every thing else, and never growing old, and then we said: "What if the tumults of any one's flesh should subside, and the phantasies of earth and ocean and air grow calm, and the poles be hushed, and the mind itself become silent, passing on in thought, unconcerned in its own affairs; what if dreams, and imaginary revelations, and every language, and every sign, and every thing else that could be named, should become altogether silent to any one, since to him who listens they all say we did not make ourselves, but he who endures forever,-what," we said, "since thus they now have spoken, erecting our ears towards him who made them, if now they should all become silent, and he alone should speak, not through them, but through himself, so that we could hear his word, not through a tongue of flesh, nor through the voice of an angel, nor through the sound of a cloud, nor through the enigma of a similitude, but through himself alone, whom in these things we love,-could hear him without their intervention, as now we extend ourselves, and with rapid thought reach that eternal wisdom which always remains over all; and what if the voice of him whom we thus heard, should be continued, all other visions of far inferior kind being subtracted, and this one alone left to ravish, absorb and bear away its spectator, wrapping him up in its internal joys, thus rendering eternal life such as we have found this single moment of intelligence for which we have panted, would not this be the meaning of Enter into the joy of thy Lord?' And that joy-when? When we shall all arise, but not all be changed?"*

"Et istud quando? An cum omnes resurgemus, sed non omnes immutabimur?" 1 Cor. 15: 51. While the Greek codices all agree, in the Latin there are three different readings of this passage. Augustine has preferred the Vulgate. The change to which he doubtless conceives allusion to be made, is that of the children of God into the glorious likeness of Christ.

In such a strain was I conversing; and if it was not in this manner and in these words, yet, Lord, thou knowest, that in that day, while we were holding such intercourse together, and the world, even in the midst of our words, with all its delights, was growing more and more vile in our eyes, that then she said to me: My son, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing that any longer delights me in this life. What there is more for me to do here, or why I should longer remain, I know not, my chief desire being consummated. One thing alone there was, for which I wished to live a little longer, that I might see thee become a true Christian before I died. My God has now granted me this, to the full, having permitted me to behold you his servant, also despising earthly felicity. What then do I here!"

What reply I made to these things, I do not sufficiently remember. Scarcely five days elapsed before she fell into a fever. One day, during her sickness, she swooned away, and became for a while insensible. We ran to her, when suddenly recovering her senses, and discovering me and my brother Navigius standing at her side, she said, as if by way of inquiry: "Where was I?" Then beholding us astonished with grief, she said: "Will you bury your mother here ?" I continued silent, and restrained myself from tears. My brother, however, said something in which he indicated that it would be more pleasant to have her die at home, in her own country, rather than abroad among strangers; which hearing, she turned upon him an anxious and reproving look, for his folly; and then, fixing her eyes on me: "See," she said, "what he says;" and directly after, addressing us both, she continued: "Place this body anywhere. Trouble yourselves not at all about it. The only thing I ask of you, is, that you make mention of me at the altar of God, wherever you are."

This was a subject of rejoicing to me, as she had always been anxious to be buried by the side of her husband, where she had already prepared a place for her body. I heard afterwards, that, while we were at Ostia, she had discoursed with some friends, one day, when I was absent, on contempt of life, and the desirableness of death, when, on their expressing surprise that she did not fear to leave her body so far from her own country, she replied: "Nothing is far to God. I have no fears that he will be at a loss where to find me, at the resurrection."

After this affecting scene, Augustine returned to Rome, and staid there until the following year; and then, proceeding on his way to Africa, he came and tarried a while at Carthage; after which, he took up his residence at or near Tagaste, where he lived for about three years,-in company with a few select friends who had all things in common, and devoted his time to fasting, benevolence, prayer, studying the Bible and compo

sition.

The conversion of such a man as Augustine naturally attracted great attention, and elated Christians with ardent hopes.