every man is eloquent on his own subject. Statesmen, lawyers, men of science, poets, soldiers, traders, each in his own craft, is ready and fluent at any time, howsoever sudden. They speak with facility and fulness. The habitual thoughts of each are upon his calling, work, or craft, and without preparation he is ready at any moment to speak correctly and promptly. Why is it, then, that a priest cannot without preparation speak for God and for His kingdom, for His truth and for His law? If we were full of these things, if we realised them and lived in them as the convictions of our reason and the affections of our hearts, to speak of them would be even a relief. We are never weary or embarrassed in speaking of those we love, and of the things that are dear to us. In the measure in which we realise the world of faith, the eternal truths, the nature of sin, the love of souls, their danger of perishing, we shall find no difficulty in speaking on them with sincerity and simplicity. It is the desire to be eloquent and to shine as orators that causes unreality, vain-glory, and emptiness.[1] If we could only forget ourselves and speak seriously for God, we should find less difficulty in preaching; and the
- ↑ "Conturbatus quia siccatus: siccatus quia exaltatus."—S. Aug. Serm. 131, tom. v. p. 642.
