been given up to the powerlessness of illness, this it is which is the most perplexing of all to a man without reflection; for if not for himself, he wanted his health for others. He was an excellent general: he had waged war, he said, not against unbelievers only, but against demons and the devil himself. All his enemies were fiercely assailing him, dispersing his army, and taking it captive. This man could lead thousands to the truth, and he was sick. If no further harm than this had been done to our work by that illness, a man says, that alone was sufficient to make believers grow more careless and negligent. If soldiers see their general confined to bed, they grow careless and less eager for battle; so it was much more natural that the faithful of those days, seeing the master who worked signs so great constantly ill and weak in his body, should suffer, humanly speaking, at the sight. This is not all; but enquiries go on to something else, and ask again why neither he cured himself, nor his master, who saw him thus prostrated, cured him either; whereas they were raising the dead, and casting out demons, and conquering death with authority, they did _not_ cure this one sick body; and whilst in life and in death they were showing forth a wonderful power in other bodies, they did _not_ restore this ailing stomach. And, what is more, Paul was not ashamed, after wonders so great as he had shown forth, by a mere word writing to Timothy, of advising him to try the remedy of wine-drinking. Not that drinking wine is bad. Far from it. This is what heretics assert; but that he deemed it not beneath him that the cure of one sick member could not be affected without this help. He was so far from being ashamed of this that he made it clear to all succeeding generations. Do you see how deeply we have gone into the matter: how that which appears a small thing gives rise to endless questions? Let us, then, add the explanation, for we _have_ gone into it thus deeply in order to rouse your minds and establish them in security.