Letter 18

Pope Pelagius IIUnknown|c. 585 AD|pelagius ii

**Letter to Saint Aunarius, Bishop of Auxerre**

To the most blessed lord and father adorned with apostolic insignia, my spiritual father Bishop Aunarius — from Stephanus, servant of all the servants of Christ.

Having read through the letter of your apostolate, I clearly recognized what the burning desire of your holy zeal so eagerly sets forth. It is therefore your devoted intention that the noble deeds from the flourishing lives of those most distinguished men, Germanus and Amator [4th–5th century bishops of Auxerre, both venerated as saints], should be written down. But let your attention be directed toward those of elegant style who are able to examine the lights of their virtues with equal skill.

As for me — whose sluggish mind grows numb with a twofold stiffness, and whose stammering tongue, impeded amid the hoarse passages of the throat by the rough grip of dryness, does not speak but rather screeches — how could I set forth in polished speech the divinely inspired gifts of these most holy men, when I cannot even manage to explain ordinary matters that arise by human chance? Unless I am mistaken, anyone who takes upon himself a burden beyond the limit of his own ability exposes himself to ridiculous and hopeless mockery.

Do not the hunters of wild beasts, if their cunning efforts have fashioned a less effective trap, see their bold rashness come to ruin? A raw recruit never carried on a painted shield the trophies of victory, if the trained hand of a veteran's example did not instruct him. Nor did a bird ever safely cut through the open path of sky granted to it, if a dark-feathered mother had not gone before it as guide. Surely anyone who, trusting in the guarantee of his own impudence, thrusts an untrained hand upon the rudder of a ship will lie shattered by the crashing of the waves. So too is each person torn apart on the hook of inexperience in various ways, if he is not supported by the encouragement of the learned.

I beg you, most blessed sir, that the summit of your authority impose upon me only what it does not doubt I can easily accomplish. Yet if you will bear patiently whatever my rustic chatter may produce in this work — graceless or witless as it may be — I shall undertake it, and I shall do what your fatherly authority brings upon me and commands. Farewell for a long time, lord father.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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