De locis theologicis

Although I see many who hold that opinion—that anyone who cannot illuminate his thoughts with splendor of expression abuses both learning and letters shamelessly if he writes—I am so far from disdaining a theologian who brings no eloquence that I do not even demand it. For to speak clearly about obscure matters that are difficult to understand, and to express oneself not only with subtle thoughts but also with polished words, is so laborious and difficult that anyone who insisted on it would be unreasonable. Indeed, I see that this has so far happened to few: that the same men labor in both kinds of discourse and, in theological controversies, pursue both the elegant style of speaking and the subtle style of disputing. Let others judge how much progress we have made in each; certainly we have pursued both. For we dislike a torrent of empty words devoid of meaning, nor are we captivated by subtle thoughts if the discourse is dry. As for the polish of my style, let each reader use his own judgment freely; I do not object at all. But in treating the many serious and useful matters that we shall discuss accurately and fully in these books, we seem to offer great assistance to our theologians, so that not only the untrained but perhaps even the learned may gain something both for discussion and for judgment. I would not have this said arrogantly. While conceding to many the art of eloquence, I have spent my life in the study of what is peculiar to the school: to discuss briefly and concisely and, as it were, cut everything to the quick. If I claim this for myself as a kind of right, I am not arrogant, unless I am mistaken. Nor am I so foolish that I do not fear I have often been mistaken even about the matters themselves. But it is one thing never to hold a false opinion—something I do not claim for myself;

it is another to treat matters at once most serious and most difficult in a methodical and reasoned way, something I have indeed undertaken with good reason, as I think; yet I can be mistaken, and may the offense be forgiven. Everything I have said is directed not toward arrogating knowledge of things to myself—for what could be more alien to a modest man?—but toward ensuring that no candidate in polished letters demands from me, in scholastic disputation, a refined style, much less one adorned with the trappings of rhetoricians. I wish to satisfy the school; I do not dare to remove the words and distinctive forms of expression proper to the school. For although I wish to dispute more elegantly than our people are accustomed to, I must not impose two labors on theologians: one in understanding the subject matter, the other in understanding the words. I briefly disclose to my readers the secret of my mind: whoever is to learn from me a method of discussion in theology, I do not want him to find my writings difficult to understand and to seek out a grammarian as an interpreter to understand a theologian. But enough of this. It is now time to pursue the matters that must be explained next. They will indeed present us with a great task and an extensive disputation. But the length will be offset by its usefulness. Nothing more useful can be handed down to the school of theologians than to teach them which locus supplies firm arguments and which, by contrast, supplies weak ones. It is through this above all that the sinews and joints of theology stand taut and solid.