Contentment

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She said, in a low voice, “Um, do you have any men who are more, you know, guy-next-doorish? Fit but not like a male stripper?” Kathy smiled. “Ah, yes, there are a few. The first is Lonny, who when he had his head hung gutters for a living. Here he is.” Kathy helped Lonny-body stand. Reese feasted her eyes on a headless man with a set of callused hands and a wiry strong build that had come about by work and not by working out. “Then there’s Bosco,” said Kathy. “Bosco is a painter.” “Hm, nice, trim, but too old,” said Reese. “And then there’s Ned,” Kathy said. “He’s my favorite. Come on, Ned.” She cooed at him, gently nudging his arm so that he would stand. “Look at this,” she said. She pinched his nipple, and his arm flapped her hand away. “Ned doesn’t like that, see? He’s got a lot of personality left in his body. He knows how to move. Watch.” She stood behind him and put her hands on his hips, and Ned’s body swayed, his robe flapping. Reese felt a sudden throb, which she masked perfectly. “They’re all very nice,” she said, “but I agree with you that this one is the most normal. If anyone can be normal when he’s missing his head.” “I know what you mean. Just remember that even though he has been freed of his head, he still is going to have some feelings. Treat him well, and he’ll treat you well.” “What do I call him?” Reese asked. “Well, he can’t hear, but it helps to have a name. His head’s name is Ned, so call him Nedbody.” Reese walked up to Nedbody and took his hand. He seemed to sense that she was a different person from Kathy. When she lifted his hand, he didn’t resist, but followed her movements. Kathy showed her that two fingers gently squeezing his arm muscle meant “good.” The room was large and sparely furnished. Kathy explained that furniture had to be kept to a minimum because Nedbody was blind, of course. Then she left. There were some grapes in the corner, and Reese looked at them wistfully, thinking that she could eat them but Nedbody couldn’t. She ate a grape, and then, feeling a little shy, sat down next to him on a couch and put her head on his shoulder. She inspected the low mound of his neck. It was surprisingly easy to get used to his headlessness. If you hadn’t known what human beings looked like you would simply assume that this was the way they were.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Ned Undergoes a Voluntary Head Detachmen t N ed the golfer had incurred terrible debts at the House of Holes, and he was called into the main office. “Let’s see your body, please,” said Lila. Ned removed his shirt and pants. “Very nice,” she said. “And the underpants, please.” He stepped out of them with a smile, his jig swaying. She looked at him for a long time, tapping a pen on the arm of her chair. “Your body is adorable,” she said. “My face is not so good, though,” he said. “Is that what you mean?” “It’s a perfectly nice face. You mean well, you’re a nice man, but you don’t have that smoldering puffy-lipped look that a lot of women like.” “I know. So what on earth do I do?” “I would say that for you, with that body, the fastest way for you to pay off your debts is with the voluntary head detachment.” “What’s that? I’d like to try it.” “Think about it carefully. Your head will be removed and put on a wheeled pedestal. Kathy will roll you around and change your plasma bags and be sure that your electricals are all shipshape.” “And my body?” “Your body will go into one of the six headless rooms.” “Okay, and what happens in there?” “Your body and a woman will get to know each other.” “How? My body won’t have a head.” “No, it won’t. These are women who don’t want you to have a head.” “Oh, I see, okay.” “And your body will have a simple form of consciousness.” “How?” “We put a cap at the top of your spinal cord, and we redirect your nervous system. Your body will be able to think, in a very limited way, with your spine, penis, and balls. Your ass will serve as a neuronal proxy as well.” “I see. Makes sense. Well, let’s do it.” Ned took a pill and was able to remain conscious through the detachment procedure. He felt a faint tugging once or twice and then a powerful wave of vertigo. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was detached and positioned on the wheeled pedestal, his head strapped in a comfortable head-rig. His body sat about ten feet away from him, in a chair. Where his head had been there was a low dome covered in artificial skin. Kathy, his pedestal pusher, was dressing his body, helping it to learn how to move with its limited neural resources. She rubbed the body’s arms, and it stood. She patted them. “Good bodyboy,” she said. She tied a conservative tie around his body’s neck and then planted his body’s hands on her shoulders. She touched his leg, pulling, indicating that he should raise his leg, which he did. She held some khaki pants out for him, and the leg slid them on. Ned noticed that his body’s penis was unusually tumescent. This seemed not to trouble Kathy.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  All at once she was liquefying into pure blue. When the light went away, she was standing in front of the House of Holes concert hall, wearing her black dress and black stockings, still out of breath from her recent exertions. She looked at her shoulders—they were perfectly tanned, not too dark, just right. Chuck came up wearing a rumpled blazer, carrying floppy tickets. His shock of hair excited her. “Hello, hello,” he said. “You look lovely. I got us the Velvet Room.” They went inside, past the bar, and up a wide red stairway to the balcony level. It was very warm, and there were gold sconces in the shape of mermaids. “Where’s the rest of the audience?” Luna asked. “It’s a special kind of concert,” said Chuck. They came to room 28L. The door said “Velvet Room.” They went inside. It was very quiet, very private, and there were two holes in the wall. A strangely shaped low chair was positioned in front of the two holes. “This is nice, but I can’t see the stage,” said Luna . “You can’t see the stage in the Velvet Room. It’s not about seeing.” Chuck smiled and moved his hand lightly over her hair. His eyes had an inner level, through the irises—it felt as if she was looking down a spiral staircase. “Now you must take off your shoes and your black stockings, although they’re very nice, and sit in the chair.” “Okay,” said Luna. She slipped off her stockings and handed them to him. He folded them and put them on a little side table. “Good,” said Chuck. “And now I sit?” Chuck nodded. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. She sat and looked up at him, taking another hit of his eyes. The chair was low, and her dress rode up. “Sorry, a little indelicate here,” she said, hitching to cover the sight of her red panties. “Don’t worry. You’re going to put your legs through the holes.” “Now?” Chuck nodded. She pointed her right foot and put it through the hole. Then her left foot. “Good,” said Chuck. “All the way now.” Luna scooted forward on the seat. “A little further,” said Chuck, taking a position behind her in the chair. Luna felt her legs dangling out in space, and then she felt a man’s hand touch her and cradle her right heel. “I do believe someone is holding my foot,” she said. “That’s Alexander,” said Chuck. The touch was gentle, and Luna sensed that Alexander had a little French-style goatee, perhaps. She could hear him murmuring. Her main thought was: Boy am I glad I shaved my legs this morning. “What’s he saying?” she asked Chuck. Chuck turned up a volume dial. “You can speak to him if you’d like,” he said. “May I ask who you are?” she asked politely.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 24. --What Was the Happiness of the Christian Emperors, and How Far It Was True Happiness. For neither do we say that certain Christian emperors were therefore happy because they ruled a long time, or, dying a peaceful death, left their sons to succeed them in the empire, or subdued the enemies of the republic, or were able both to guard against and to suppress the attempt of hostile citizens rising against them. These and other gifts or comforts of this sorrowful life even certain worshippers of demons have merited to receive, who do not belong to the kingdom of God to which these belong; and this is to be traced to the mercy of God, who would not have those who believe in Him desire such things as the highest good. But we say that they are happy if they rule justly; if they are not lifted up amid the praises of those who pay them sublime honors, and the obsequiousness of those who salute them with an excessive humility, but remember that they are men; if they make their power the handmaid of His majesty by using it for the greatest possible extension of His worship; if they fear, love, worship God; if more than their own they love that kingdom in which they are not afraid to have partners; if they are slow to punish, ready to pardon; if they apply that punishment as necessary to government and defence of the republic, and not in order to gratify their own enmity; if they grant pardon, not that iniquity may go unpunished, but with the hope that the transgressor may amend his ways; if they compensate with the lenity of mercy and the liberality of benevolence for whatever severity they may be compelled to decree; if their luxury is as much restrained as it might have been unrestrained; if they prefer to govern depraved desires rather than any nation whatever; and if they do all these things, not through ardent desire of empty glory, but through love of eternal felicity, not neglecting to offer to the true God, who is their God, for their sins, the sacrifices of humility, contrition, and prayer. Such Christian emperors, we say, are happy in the present time by hope, and are destined to be so in the enjoyment of the reality itself, when that which we wait for shall have arrived.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Your hot wet—pooter. Your kitten. Mhm. You know—” The second set of drinks arrived. Cardell took a long, cross-eyed slurp from the straw and then sighed hugely. “Cold,” he said. “Very. They drank it through straws from a straw-hat factory, and they cooled it with crushed ice from a lake in Massachusetts,” said Jackie. “In England, they used American ice? That’s kind of loony.” “No, it’s rational, because the Wenham Lake ice was the best ice, and the ice salesmen went over to London and Oxford and Cambridge, and they got the word out. They said, ‘Make this sherry cobbler from our recipe, but you have to use real imported American ice, not the dirty ice from the dirty fish shops and the dirty British rivers, because that ice will make you ill.’ ” “And then of course you’ll upchuck, and the spins are no help with that.” “Right, ‘Buy our clean innocent ice from the land of America, where there are clean green tree frogs, and clean shiny fish, and a few noble savages going skippity doodah in their immaculate moccasins.’ It was a big business, the transatlantic ice trade. Charles Dickens bought five pounds’ worth of Wenham Lake ice in 1850.” Jackie pointed at Cardell. “We know that for a fact.” “Interesting,” said Cardell, rubbing his face vigorously. “You know, the English talk a good game, but they’re such hypocrites. All that business about how vulgar it is to have ice in drinks. Look at this freaking peach cobbler!” He held his palms toward his drink. “Just have a look at it!” “Now, Cardell,” said Jackie gently, patting Cardell’s hand, “the peach cobbler is a bit different. It’s baked in an oven.” “Of course, what am I thinking? Peaches and you bake it. Very different. Very hot. So hot you have to let it cool on your fork or you’ll burn your delicate mouth tissues. This is with ice and a straw and you suck it up greedily.” “Shall we summon another?” said Jackie. Again she made one of her expert signals to the bartender. Then she paused, listening. Across the room, the pianist had begun playing. “What song is it?” asked Cardell. “It’s very familiar.” “It’s Hoagy Carmichael, of course,” she said. “ ‘I get along without you very well.’ ” “God, these names. ‘Martin Chuzzlewit,’ ‘Hoagy Carmichael.’ You know, when I’m sitting in some lecture hall, listening to some talk by some really deadly historian—no offense to your profession—my head just gorges itself on obscene images. I can’t help it.” “Like what obscene images?” Jackie said. “Be specific.” “Oh, you know—” Cardell did some quick self-censorship. “Specifically two people tied together at the knees. Loosely tied together.” “Not tied. Oh, please.” “What?” “That’s such a tired trope—people tying each other up and peeing in mayonnaise jars and whatnot,” said Jackie. “You don’t want that, do you?” “Well, no, of course not, but.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  I know you just love jerking off that proud nasty cock.” “That I do,” he said. “Hard as a ship’s biscuit, but fresher.” She had an idea. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Let’s go out on the back deck and I’ll pretend to have sex with my husband, and I’ll tell you all about it, and you’ll watch me pretending. Will that work?” “That sounds like a good fallback,” Cardell said. So they went out to the back deck, and she started with the running commentary. “Usually I’m in bed first,” she said. “He stays up doing the crossword—he’s good at it, but it takes him a long time sometimes, and I read a book.” “Like what?” “Oh, maybe something a little frisky, a little naughty,” said Betsy. “And sometimes I just turn my light off and go to sleep, and sometimes I’m still reading when I hear him washing up and sniffing. He hangs up his pants carefully and puts on his pajamas, which are on a hook on the back of the closet door. We have two hooks. Am I boring you? ” Cardell was smiling, watching her tell the story, lying back on a lounge chair and feeling perfectly happy. He shook his head. “Good. Then he gets in bed, and if I’m awake and I stir he says, ‘Good-night, hon,’ and I say, ‘Good-night, darling.’ And often we go to sleep.” “But sometimes you don’t.” “Right, sometimes we’ve made a prior arrangement to do the triple-X dirty nasty.” “I see.” “And we both know that there’s the appointment. So I lie there, and he rubs my back for a while.” She lay with her eyes closed as she said this, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “Sometimes he teases under my ears, and that makes me shrug, whoo! And then I reach back behind me, and I find his bulgy bits in his pajamas, and I hold them a moment to figure out what’s what. Then I reach my hand in and grab a handful, and then usually he shifts and pulls his pajamas down. And then everything begins to make itself known.” She was reaching behind herself as she said this. “Do you like feeling him get hard?” “Love feeling him get hard, yes. He says, ‘Can I tweak your titties?’ And I lift so he can get at them, and he knows just how to play with my nipples so that the two jagged lightning lines go dingalinging straight down. And then I have to turn toward him—” Here she turned in the chaise longue and held her invisible husband.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 15. --That the Demons are Not Better Than Men Because of Their Aerial Bodies, or on Account of Their Superior Place of Abode. Wherefore let not the mind truly religious, and submitted to the true God, suppose that demons are better than men, because they have better bodies. Otherwise it must put many beasts before itself which are superior to us both in acuteness of the senses, in ease and quickness of movement, in strength and in long-continued vigor of body. What man can equal the eagle or the vulture in strength of vision? Who can equal the dog in acuteness of smell? Who can equal the hare, the stag, and all the birds in swiftness? Who can equal in strength the lion or the elephant? Who can equal in length of life the serpents, which are affirmed to put off old age along with their skin, and to return to youth again? But as we are better than all these by the possession of reason and understanding, so we ought also to be better than the demons by living good and virtuous lives. For divine providence gave to them bodies of a better quality than ours, that that in which we excel them might in this way be commended to us as deserving to be far more cared for than the body, and that we should learn to despise the bodily excellence of the demons compared with goodness of life, in respect of which we are better than they, knowing that we too shall have immortality of body,--not an immortality tortured by eternal punishment, but that which is consequent on purity of soul.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 26. --Of the Image of the Supreme Trinity, Which We Find in Some Sort in Human Nature Even in Its Present State. And we indeed recognize in ourselves the image of God, that is, of the supreme Trinity, an image which, though it be not equal to God, or rather, though it be very far removed from Him,--being neither co-eternal, nor, to say all in a word, consubstantial with Him,--is yet nearer to Him in nature than any other of His works, and is destined to be yet restored, that it may bear a still closer resemblance. For we both are, and know that we are, and delight in our being, and our knowledge of it. Moreover, in these three things no true-seeming illusion disturbs us; for we do not come into contact with these by some bodily sense, as we perceive the things outside of us,--colors, e. g. , by seeing, sounds by hearing, smells by smelling, tastes by tasting, hard and soft objects by touching,--of all which sensible objects it is the images resembling them, but not themselves which we perceive in the mind and hold in the memory, and which excite us to desire the objects. But, without any delusive representation of images or phantasms, I am most certain that I am, and that I know and delight in this. In respect of these truths, I am not at all afraid of the arguments of the Academicians, who say, What if you are deceived? For if I am deceived, I am. [498]For he who is not, cannot be deceived; and if I am deceived, by this same token I am. And since I am if I am deceived, how am I deceived in believing that I am? for it is certain that I am if I am deceived. Since, therefore, I, the person deceived, should be, even if I were deceived, certainly I am not deceived in this knowledge that I am. And, consequently, neither am I deceived in knowing that I know. For, as I know that I am, so I know this also, that I know. And when I love these two things, I add to them a certain third thing, namely, my love, which is of equal moment. For neither am I deceived in this, that I love, since in those things which I love I am not deceived; though even if these were false, it would still be true that I loved false things. For how could I justly be blamed and prohibited from loving false things, if it were false that I loved them? But, since they are true and real, who doubts that when they are loved, the love of them is itself true and real? Further, as there is no one who does not wish to be happy, so there is no one who does not wish to be. For how can he be happy, if he is nothing?

• From The City of God

  Chapter 12. --That Even the Fierceness of War and All the Disquietude of Men Make Towards This One End of Peace, Which Every Nature Desires. Whoever gives even moderate attention to human affairs and to our common nature, will recognize that if there is no man who does not wish to be joyful, neither is there any one who does not wish to have peace. For even they who make war desire nothing but victory,--desire, that is to say, to attain to peace with glory. For what else is victory than the conquest of those who resist us? and when this is done there is peace. It is therefore with the desire for peace that wars are waged, even by those who take pleasure in exercising their warlike nature in command and battle. And hence it is obvious that peace is the end sought for by war. For every man seeks peace by waging war, but no man seeks war by making peace. For even they who intentionally interrupt the peace in which they are living have no hatred of peace, but only wish it changed into a peace that suits them better. They do not, therefore, wish to have no peace, but only one more to their mind. And in the case of sedition, when men have separated themselves from the community, they yet do not effect what they wish, unless they maintain some kind of peace with their fellow-conspirators. And therefore even robbers take care to maintain peace with their comrades, that they may with greater effect and greater safety invade the peace of other men. And if an individual happen to be of such unrivalled strength, and to be so jealous of partnership, that he trusts himself with no comrades, but makes his own plots, and commits depredations and murders on his own account, yet he maintains some shadow of peace with such persons as he is unable to kill, and from whom he wishes to conceal his deeds. In his own home, too, he makes it his aim to be at peace with his wife and children, and any other members of his household; for unquestionably their prompt obedience to his every look is a source of pleasure to him. And if this be not rendered, he is angry, he chides and punishes; and even by this storm he secures the calm peace of his own home, as occasion demands. For he sees that peace cannot be maintained unless all the members of the same domestic circle be subject to one head, such as he himself is in his own house. And therefore if a city or nation offered to submit itself to him, to serve him in the same style as he had made his household serve him, he would no longer lurk in a brigand's hiding-places, but lift his head in open day as a king, though the same coveteousness and wicked ness should remain in him. And thus all men desire to have peace with their own circle whom they wish to govern as suits themselves. For even those whom they make war against they wish to make their own, and impose on them the laws of their own peace.

• From The City of God

  But who can conceive, not to say describe, what degrees of honor and glory shall be awarded to the various degrees of merit? Yet it cannot be doubted that there shall be degrees. And in that blessed city there shall be this great blessing, that no inferior shall envy any superior, as now the archangels are not envied by the angels, because no one will wish to be what he has not received, though bound in strictest concord with him who has received; as in the body the finger does not seek to be the eye, though both members are harmoniously included in the complete structure of the body. And thus, along with his gift, greater or less, each shall receive this further gift of contentment to desire no more than he has.

• From The City of God

  When we shall have reached that peace, this mortal life shall give place to one that is eternal, and our body shall be no more this animal body which by its corruption weighs down the soul, but a spiritual body feeling no want, and in all its members subjected to the will. In its pilgrim state the heavenly city possesses this peace by faith; and by this faith it lives righteously when it refers to the attainment of that peace every good action towards God and man; for the life of the city is a social life.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  588 :—Pass., Thuc. 2. 51, Diog. L. 6.45; c. dat. modi, σωφροσύνῃ μακαρισθείς Xen. Cyn. 1, 11. μᾶκάριος [xa], a, ov, also os, ov Plat. Legg. 803 C: Comp. —wrepos, Sup. -wraros Eur. Tro. 365, 328 :—collat. form of μάκαρ, mostly used in Prose, but also in Poets, as Pind., and often in Eur. : 1. mostly of men, like μάκαρ I, blessed, happy, Pind. P. 5. 61, Eur. Or. 86, etc. ; μ. Te καὶ εὐδαίμων Plat. Rep. 354 A; but distinguished from the abso- lutely happy man (εὐδαίμων) in Arist. Eth. N. 1. 10, 14 and 16; often in such phrases as p. ὅστις... νοῦν ἔχει Menand. Anu. 2, cf. Monost. 357, 614 :—in addresses, ὦ μακάριε, like ὦ θαυμάσιε, my good sir, my dear sir, Plat. Prot. 309 C, Rep. 432 Ὁ, al. :—also c. gen., ὦ μ. τῆς τύχης δίας O happy you for.., Ar. Eq. 186, cf. Vesp. 1512, Plat. Euthyd. 303 C; So, ἰὼ χελῶναι μακάριαι τοῦ δέρματος Ar. Vesp. 12923 also, ὦ μ. σὺ τά τε ἄλλα καὶ .., Xen. Cyr. 8. 3, 39. 2. often in Plat. of μακάριοι, like of ὄλβιοι, οἱ χαρίεντες, the rich and better educated, Plat. Rep. 335 E, cf. Arist. Eth. N. 8. 5, 3, Pol. 7. 1, 4, al.; κινδυνεύω σοι δοκεῖν μ. τις εἶναι Plat. Meno 71 A; τοὺς μ. καλουμένους ὁρῶ πονοῦντας ἡμῖν ἐμφερῆ Menand. Κιθ. τ. 6 ; μακαριωτάτην .. πόλιν Καπύην Polyb. 3. οΙ, 6. 3. of the dead, like μακαρίτης, Plat. Legg. 947 Ὁ, cf. Ar. Fr. 445 a. ΤΙ. of states, qualities, and the like, μ. λέχος Eur. Or.1208; μακαριώταται τύχαι Id. Tro. 327; Bios Cratin. Χειρ. 1, Plat.; Tots θεοῖς ἅπας ὁ Bios μ. Arist. Eth. N. το. 8,8; μ. ἐστιν ἡ τραγῳδία ποίημα Antiph. Ποί. 1; τὸ μακάριον -- εὐδαιμονία, Arist. Eth. N. 1. 8, τό. III. Adv. -ίως, Eur. Hel. gog, Ar. Pl. 629; Sup. -ὦτατα, Plat. Legg. 733 E. eee omms: τος, ἡ, happiness, bliss, Plat. Legg. 661 B, Arist. Eth. N. WON ὅθ μᾶκᾶἄρισμός, οὔ, 6, a pronouncing happy, blessing, Plat. Rep. 591 D, Arist. Rhet. 1. 9, 4. μακαριστέον, verb. Adj. one must deem happy, Polyb. Exc. Vat. 24. 4. μᾶκἄριστός, 7, dv, like ζηλωτός, deemed or to be deemed happy, πρὸς πάντων ἀνθρώπων Hdt. 7. 18; ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν Plat. Phaedr. 256 C; πᾶσι Χαλδαίοις Xen. Cyr. 7. 2, 6: absol. enviable, Ar. Vesp. 550, Xen. Mem. 2. 1, 33 (in Sup. -corératos); μ. γάμος Ar. Av. 17253; ὦ μακα- ριστὲ Κομᾶτα Theocr. 7. 83. Ady. —ras, Joseph. A. J. 2. 6, I. μᾶκαρίτης [1]. ov, 6, like μάκαρ 111, one blessed, i.e. dead, but mostly of one lately dead, Aesch. Pers. 933, Ar. Fr. 445 a, Menand. Incert. 366; freq. in late writers, as, Plut. 2.120 Ο, Ath. 113 E; ὃ μι cov πατήρ your date father, Luc. D. Meretr. 6. 1, etc.; but most common in Christian authors, like Lat. felix, Ruhnk. Tim.: fem. μᾶκαρϊτις, δος, Theocr. 2. 70; ἡ μ.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  Spoupéw, ὁμούρησις, ὁμούριος, dpoupos, Ion. for ὁμορέω, etc. δμ-ούσιος, and ὁμ-ουσιότης, dub. forms of ὁμο-ούσιος, --της. ὁμοφεγγής, és, shining together, Nonn. D. 5. 113. ὁμοφήτωρ, opos, 6, to expl. the Homeric ἀφήτωρ, Eust. 759. 64. ὁμόφθογγος, ov, sounding together, Nonn. D. 1. 157, etc. ὁμοφλεγήξ, és, burning together or at once, Nonn. D. 6. 220. ὁμόφλοιος, v. sub ὁμοιόφλοιος. ὁμόφοιτος, ον, going by the side of, Twos Pind. N. 8. 56, Nonn. Ὁ. 5. 122, etc. δμοφρᾶδής, és, talking together, E. M. 221.39 :—agreeing, Nonn. Jo. 4. 40. ὁμοφράδμων, ov, -- ὁμοφραδής, Poéta ap. Ep. Plat. 310 A. ὁμοφρονέω, Zo be of the same mind, have the same thoughts, εἰ δὴ ὁμο- φρονέοις, says Polyphemus to his ram, Od. 9. 456; ὁμοφρονέοντε von- Haow.., ἀνὴρ ἠδὲ “γυνή in unity of purposes, 6. 183; so, “EAAnvas ὁμοφρονέοντας being all of one mind, Hdt. 9. 2; opp. to γνώμῃ διαφέ- ρέσθαι, Id. 7. 229; of conspirators, Xen. Hell. 7. 5, 7 ;—also, πόλεμος Gpoppovewy a war of common consent, Hdt. 8. 3:—c. dat., οὐ γὰρ ἀλλήλοισι ὁμοφρόνεουσι are not agreed together, Ib. 75. δμοφροσύνη. 7,=cpdvoia, unity of mind and feelings, ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν ἐσθλὴν [θεοί] Od. 6. 181; in pl., 15. 198 ;—also in late Prose, Dion. H. 9. 45, etc. δμόφρων, ovos, 6, ἡ, = ὁμόνοος, agreeing, united, ὁμόφρονα θυμὸν ἔχον- τες I]. 22. 263, Hes. Th. 60, Theogn, 81; ὁμόφρονος εὐνᾶς Pind. O. 7. To; du. λόγοι Ar. Av. 632. Adv. —dvws, Achmes Onir. 44 in titulo; poét. -ovéws, Epigr. Gr. 493. 6. δμοφυής, és, of the same growth, age or nature, Plat. Phaedo 86 A, Rep. 458 C; τινι with one, Ib. 439 E. Spodvia, ἡ, sameness of growth, age or nature, Greg. Naz. ὁμοφῦλία, ἡ, sameness of race or tribe, Strab. 41, Plut. 2.975 E. ὁμόφῦλος, ov, of the same race or stock (wider in sense than ὁμοεθνής, 4. ν.), Hipp. Aér. 289, Thuc. 1. 141, etc.; οἱ Op. those of the same race, Xen. Cyr. 5. 4, 273 φιλία ὁμόφ. friendship with those of the same stock, Eur. H. F. 1200; dy. Ζεύς Plat. Lege. 843 A:—7d ὁμόφυλον, = ὁμοφυ- Xa, Eur. I. T. 346, Dem. 290. 20; τὸ μὴ dp. a city peopled by different races, Arist. Pol. 5.3, 11. 2. generally, of the same breed or kind, ὄρνιθες Xen. Cyr. 1. 6, 39; πρὸς τὸ ὁμ. ἀπιέναι Ib. 8. 7, 20, cf. Arist. Mund. 5,3; τὸ πῦρ συγκρίνει τὰ dp. homogeneous matter, Arist. Gen. et Corr. 2. 2, 4, cf. Cael. 3: 8; 12: ὁμόφῦὕτος, ov, originating together, Theol. Arithm. p. 50. ὁμό-φωκτος, ov, (φώζω) roasted or parched together, Philox. 3. 15. ὁμοφωνέω, to speak the same language with, τινι Hdt. 1.142; cf. dpo- λογέωτ. ΤΙ. to sound together or in unison, Dio C. 41. 58 :-- c. dat. fo sound like, Apoll. Pron. 140 Β; σ. τῷ λόγῳ chimes in with oe, Arist. Eth. N.1.13,17; πρός τι Themist. 258 B. 1053 ὁμοφωνία, 7, in Music, unison (v. ὁμόφωνος 11), Arist. Pol. 2.5, 14.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 26. --That We are to Believe that in Paradise Our First Parents Begat Offspring Without Blushing. In Paradise, then, man lived as he desired so long as he desired what God had commanded. He lived in the enjoyment of God, and was good by God's goodness; he lived without any want, and had it in his power so to live eternally. He had food that he might not hunger, drink that he might not thirst, the tree of life that old age might not waste him. There was in his body no corruption, nor seed of corruption, which could produce in him any unpleasant sensation. He feared no inward disease, no outward accident. Soundest health blessed his body, absolute tranquillity his soul. As in Paradise there was no excessive heat or cold, so its inhabitants were exempt from the vicissitudes of fear and desire. No sadness of any kind was there, nor any foolish joy; true gladness ceaselessly flowed from the presence of God, who was loved "out of a pure heart, and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned. " [760]The honest love of husband and wife made a sure harmony between them. Body and spirit worked harmoniously together, and the commandment was kept without labor. No languor made their leisure wearisome; no sleepiness interrupted their desire to labor. [761]In tanta facilitate rerum et felicitate hominum, absit ut suspicemur, non potuisse prolem seri sine libidinis morbo:sed eo voluntatis nutu moverentur illa membra qua caetera, et sine ardoris illecebroso stimulo cum tranquillitate animi et corporis nulla corruptione integritatis infunderetur gremio maritus uxoris. Neque enim quia experientia probari non potest, ideo credendum non est; quando illas corporis partes non ageret turbidus calor, sed spontanea potestas, sicut opus esset, adhiberet; ita tunc potuisse utero conjugis salva integritate feminei genitalis virile semen immitti, sicut nunc potest eadem integritate salva ex utero virginis fluxus menstrui cruoris emitti. Eadem quippe via posset illud injici, qua hoc potest ejici. Ut enim ad pariendum non doloris gemitus, sed maturitatis impulsus feminea viscera relaxaret:sic adfoetandum et concipiendum non libidinis appetitus, sed voluntarius usus naturam utramque conjungeret. We speak of things which are now shameful, and although we try, as well as we are able, to conceive them as they were before they became shameful, yet necessity compels us rather to limit our discussion to the bounds set by modesty than to extend it as our moderate faculty of discourse might suggest. For since that which I have been speaking of was not experienced even by those who might have experienced it,--I mean our first parents (for sin and its merited banishment from Paradise anticipated this passionless generation on their part),--when sexual intercourse is spoken of now, it suggests to men's thoughts not such a placid obedience to the will as is conceivable in our first parents, but such violent acting of lust as they themselves have experienced. And therefore modesty shuts my mouth, although my mind conceives the matter clearly. But Almighty God, the supreme and supremely good Creator of all natures, who aids and rewards good wills, while He abandons and condemns the bad, and rules both, was not destitute of a plan by which He might people His city with the fixed number of citizens which His wisdom had foreordained even out of the condemned human race, discriminating them not now by merits, since the whole mass was condemned as if in a vitiated root, but by grace, and showing, not only in the case of the redeemed, but also in those who were not delivered, how much grace He has bestowed upon them. For every one acknowledges that he has been rescued from evil, not by deserved, but by gratuitous goodness, when he is singled out from the company of those with whom he might justly have borne a common punishment, and is allowed to go scathless. Why, then, should God not have created those whom He foresaw would sin, since He was able to show in and by them both what their guilt merited, and what His grace bestowed, and since, under His creating and disposing hand, even the perverse disorder of the wicked could not pervert the right order of things?

• From The City of God

  Chapter 10. --Whether It is to Be Believed that Our First Parents in Paradise, Before They Sinned, Were Free from All Perturbation. But it is a fair question, whether our first parent or first parents (for there was a marriage of two), before they sinned, experienced in their animal body such emotions as we shall not experience in the spiritual body when sin has been purged and finally abolished. For if they did, then how were they blessed in that boasted place of bliss, Paradise? For who that is affected by fear or grief can be called absolutely blessed? And what could those persons fear or suffer in such affluence of blessings, where neither death nor ill-health was feared, and where nothing was wanting which a good will could desire, and nothing present which could interrupt man's mental or bodily enjoyment? Their love to God was unclouded, and their mutual affection was that of faithful and sincere marriage; and from this love flowed a wonderful delight, because they always enjoyed what was loved. Their avoidance of sin was tranquil; and, so long as it was maintained, no other ill at all could invade them and bring sorrow. Or did they perhaps desire to touch and eat the forbidden fruit, yet feared to die; and thus both fear and desire already, even in that blissful place, preyed upon those first of mankind? Away with the thought that such could be the case where there was no sin! And, indeed, this is already sin, to desire those things which the law of God forbids, and to abstain from them through fear of punishment, not through love of righteousness. Away, I say, with the thought, that before there was any sin, there should already have been committed regarding that fruit the very sin which our Lord warns us against regarding a woman: "Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart. " [721]As happy, then, as were these our first parents, who were agitated by no mental perturbations, and annoyed by no bodily discomforts, so happy should the whole human race have been, had they not introduced that evil which they have transmitted to their posterity, and had none of their descendants committed iniquity worthy of damnation; but this original blessedness continuing until, in virtue of that benediction which said, "Increase and multiply," [722] the number of the predestined saints should have been completed, there would then have been bestowed that higher felicity which is enjoyed by the most blessed angels,--a blessedness in which there should have been a secure assurance that no one would sin, and no one die; and so should the saints have lived, after no taste of labor, pain, or death, as now they shall live in the resurrection, after they have endured all these things. [721] Matt. v. 28. [722] Gen. i. 28.

• From The City of God

  We shall then ascertain who it is who can be saved by fire, if we first discover what it is to have Christ for a foundation. And this we may very readily learn from the image itself. In a building the foundation is first. Whoever, then, has Christ in his heart, so that no earthly or temporal things--not even those that are legitimate and allowed--are preferred to Him, has Christ as a foundation. But if these things be preferred, then even though a man seem to have faith in Christ, yet Christ is not the foundation to that man; and much more if he, in contempt of wholesome precepts, seek forbidden gratifications, is he clearly convicted of putting Christ not first but last, since he has despised Him as his ruler, and has preferred to fulfill his own wicked lusts, in contempt of Christ's commands and allowances. Accordingly, if any Christian man loves a harlot, and, attaching himself to her, becomes one body, he has not now Christ for a foundation. But if any one loves his own wife, and loves her as Christ would have him love her, who can doubt that he has Christ for a foundation? But if he loves her in the world's fashion, carnally, as the disease of lust prompts him, and as the Gentiles love who know not God, even this the apostle, or rather Christ by the apostle, allows as a venial fault. And therefore even such a man may have Christ for a foundation. For so long as he does not prefer such an affection or pleasure to Christ, Christ is his foundation, though on it he builds wood, hay, stubble; and therefore he shall be saved as by fire. For the fire of affliction shall burn such luxurious pleasures and earthly loves, though they be not damnable, because enjoyed in lawful wedlock. And of this fire the fuel is bereavement, and all those calamities which consume these joys. Consequently the superstructure will be loss to him who has built it, for he shall not retain it, but shall be agonized by the loss of those things in the enjoyment of which he found pleasure. But by this fire he shall be saved through virtue of the foundation, because even if a persecutor demanded whether he would retain Christ or these things, he would prefer Christ. Would you hear, in the apostle's own words, who he is who builds on the foundation gold, silver, precious stones? "He that is unmarried," he says, "careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord. " [1573]Would you hear who he is that buildeth wood, hay, stubble? "But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife. [1574]"Every man's work shall be made manifest:for the day shall declare it,"--the day, no doubt, of tribulation--"because," says he, "it shall be revealed by fire. " [1575]He calls tribulation fire, just as it is elsewhere said, "The furnace proves the vessels of the potter, and the trial of affliction righteous men. " [1576]And "The fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide"--for a man's care for the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord, abides--"which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward,"--that is, he shall reap the fruit of his care. "But if any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss,"--for what he loved he shall not retain:--" but he himself shall be saved,"--for no tribulation shall have moved him from that stable foundation,--"yet so as by fire;" [1577] for that which he possessed with the sweetness of love he does not lose without the sharp sting of pain. Here, then, as seems to me, we have a fire which destroys neither, but enriches the one, brings loss to the other, proves both.

• From The City of God

  This Sabbath shall appear still more clearly if we count the ages as days, in accordance with the periods of time defined in Scripture, for that period will be found to be the seventh. The first age, as the first day, extends from Adam to the deluge; the second from the deluge to Abraham, equalling the first, not in length of time, but in the number of generations, there being ten in each. From Abraham to the advent of Christ there are, as the evangelist Matthew calculates, three periods, in each of which are fourteen generations,--one period from Abraham to David, a second from David to the captivity, a third from the captivity to the birth of Christ in the flesh. There are thus five ages in all. The sixth is now passing, and cannot be measured by any number of generations, as it has been said, "It is not for you to know the times, which the Father hath put in His own power. " [1700]After this period God shall rest as on the seventh day, when He shall give us (who shall be the seventh day) rest in Himself. [1701]But there is not now space to treat of these ages; suffice it to say that the seventh shall be our Sabbath, which shall be brought to a close, not by an evening, but by the Lord's day, as an eighth and eternal day, consecrated by the resurrection of Christ, and prefiguring the eternal repose not only of the spirit, but also of the body. There we shall rest and see, see and love, love and praise. This is what shall be in the end without end. For what other end do we propose to ourselves than to attain to the kingdom of which there is no end? I think I have now, by God's help, discharged my obligation in writing this large work. Let those who think I have said too little, or those who think I have said too much, forgive me; and let those who think I have said just enough join me in giving thanks to God. Amen. [1690] Ps. lxxxiv. 4. [1691] Numbers. [1692] Lev. xxvi. 12. [1693] 1 Cor. xv. 28. [1694] Or, the former to a state of probation, the latter to a state of reward. [1695] Ps. xlvi. 10. [1696] Gen. ii. 2, 3. [1697] Gen. iii. 5. [1698] Deut. v. 14. [1699] Ezek. xx. 12. [1700] Acts. i. 7. [1701] [On Augustin's view of the millennium and the first resurrection, see Bk. xx. 6-10. --P. S. ]

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Although, as the omnipresent Spirit, God may be worshipped in all places of the universe, which is his temple,684 yet our finite, sensuous nature, and the need of united devotion, require special localities or sanctuaries consecrated to his worship. The first Christians, after the example of the Lord, frequented the temple at Jerusalem and the synagogues, so long as their relation to the Mosaic economy allowed. But besides this, they assembled also from the first in private houses, especially for the communion and the love feast. The church itself was founded, on the day of Pentecost, in the upper room of an humble dwelling. The prominent members and first converts, as Mary, the mother of John Mark in Jerusalem, Cornelius in Caesarea, Lydia in Philippi, Jason in Thessalonica, Justus in Corinth, Priscilla in Ephesus, Philemon in Colosse, gladly opened their houses for social worship. In larger cities, as in Rome, the Christian community divided itself into several such assemblies at private houses,685 which, however, are always addressed in the epistles as a unit. That the Christians in the apostolic age erected special houses of worship is out of the question, even on account of their persecution by Jews and Gentiles, to say nothing of their general poverty; and the transition of a whole synagogue to the new faith was no doubt very rare. As the Saviour of the world was born in a stable, and ascended to heaven from a mountain, so his apostles and their successors down to the third century, preached in the streets, the markets, on mountains, in ships, sepulchres, eaves, and deserts, and in the homes of their converts. But how many thousands of costly churches and chapels have since been built and are constantly being built in all parts of the world to the honor of the crucified Redeemer, who in the days of his humiliation had no place of his own to rest his head!686 § 57. Sacred Times—The Lord’s Day. Literature. George Holden: The Christian Sabbath. London, 1825. (See ch. V.) W. Henstenberg: The Lord’s Day. Transl. from the German by James Martin, London, 1853. (Purely exegetical; defends the continental view, but advocates a better practical observance.) John T. Baylee: History of the Sabbath. London, 1857. (See chs. X. XIII.) James Aug. Hessey: Sunday: Its Origin, History, and Present Obligation. Bampton Lectures, preached before the University of Oxford, London, 1860. (Defends the Dominican and moderate Anglican, as distinct both from the Continental latitudinarian, and from the Puritanic Sabbatarian, view of Sunday, with proofs from the church fathers.) James Gilfillan: The Sabbath viewed in the Light of Reason, Revelation, and History, with Sketches of its Literature. Edinb. 1861, republished and widely circulated by the Am. Tract Society and the "New York Sabbath Committee," New York, 1862. (The fullest and ablest defence of the Puritan and Scotch Presbyterian theory of the Christian Sabbath, especially in its practical aspects.)

• From American Religious History (2001)

  Scope: This course has shown that religion has played a central theme in the development of American society and in shaping its distinctive characteristics. Pluralistic from the first, it became steadily more so, with its original Protestant bodies embracing first Catholics, then Jews, and more recently an array of Asian religions and new forms of spirituality. At the same time, it has tended steadily to become less doctrinal and more ethical and emotional in content. Most striking in comparative perspective is the fact that American religious involvement and commitment did not decline at a time when such declines were the experience of the other Western industrial nations. It proved able to overcome intellectual objections, the growing distractions of a materialistic society, and an intricate dalliance with the political system (never too close, never too remote). Numerous other themes in American religion could be addressed to further enrich this survey given sufficient additional time. Outline I. Many more issues could be examined with unlimited time. A. Sights: America has many ma jestic churches, including the National Cathedral in Washington, DC; Princeton Chapel; St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York; and the National Basilica in Washington, DC, among others. Some very humble places, such as Quaker meeting houses, can also have a significant impact on religious emotions. B. Clothing: Americans dress up out of respect for their religion. The American Easter parade is an example of this. C. Social life: American churches are often places where flirting and courtship take place. D. The unusual: American churches are often forums for unusual events, the study of which can be revealing and rewarding. The Baptist and Mormon baptismal ceremonies are examples. ©2001 The Teaching Company. 99

• From Augustine: A New Biography (2005)

  Yet his worldly career came to an end, as we shall soon see, and when it did, he did as most others would do: he went home to make the best of things. Even with a worldly career of the sort we have just imagined, it’s likely that he would still have ended, sooner or later, back where he started. In 388, he settled on his family property and lived there without visible hopes or plans for three years. Here is how his first biographer, Possidius, described his intention: And it pleased him, after he had been baptized, to take his friends and neighbors who had joined him in serving god, and go back to Africa, to his own house and lands. When he got there and settled down, for about three years he put aside worldly cares and with those who stayed with him he lived for god, with fasting, prayer, and good works, meditating on the law of god day and night. And whatever god revealed to him as he thought and prayed, he taught to others; with conversation and with books he taught one and all, near and far.14 Many writers have spoken of the Augustine of 388–91 as a monk, or at least a monk-in-all-but-name. That is an anachronism.15 His retirement to the family property was entirely in character and entirely typical. That he chose philosophy over philandering would have puzzled only a few of his neighbors or relatives. In Tagaste, after his time in Italy, he was an oddity, to be sure. No one we can see in Africa of that time at all resembles the gentlemanly Augustine.16 The closest contemporary comparison that presents itself is an unflattering one—to the fractious and obtuse Consentius of Minorca: amateur of theology, self-absorbed, and not much inclined to hear what anybody was saying to him. (We’ll meet him later.) Consentius is in many ways the classical “idiot,” the man living too much on his own and with his own ideas. If Augustine had really succeeded in finding isolation and retirement in Tagaste, he might very well have developed his own quirks and eccentricities. (As though there were not plenty of people to say that the Augustine of Hippo had his share of eccentricities!) But this Augustine is an easy one to imagine—beginning to age, obsessive, not quite in touch with the ideas and issues of his world, but ready to offer an opinion all the same. Instead, he found himself back in the public eye.