CORNELL 
 
 UMVERSITY 
 
 LIBR;i\iiY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 Prof. R. S. Hosmer 
 
B...- .-.f"!?'" University Library 
 BR65.A92 C61 1842 
 
 Confessions of St. Augustine. 
 
 olln 
 
 3 1924 029 217 309 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tinis book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029217309 
 
THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS 
 
 ST. AUGUSTINE. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 E. P. PEABODY, 13 WEST STREET, 
 1842. 
 
PREFACE TO AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 This translation of St. Augustine's Confessions is made up 
 of two'^, one, very old one, from a copy whose title-page is lost, 
 and many of its leaves wanting, and which has omitted much of 
 the three last books^ the other, PuseJ^'s translation, lately pub- 
 lished in England, making the first volume of the Library of the 
 Fathers. The old translation, as far as it went, seemed to the 
 publisher richer in style, and betrayed less of the Latin idiom. 
 It does better justice to the gushing heart of St Augustine, his 
 ardentia verta. 
 
 It would be superfluous to dwell upon the reasons for publish- 
 ing this work in America. The English edition is very costly, 
 and tills is a book that should be within the reach of every Chris- 
 tian. The humility is absolute, yet without a shadow of cant. 
 It is that of a man, not unaware that he was on the summit of 
 human nature, intellectually, and, at last, morally, and who made 
 use of his position, not to look back and compare himself with 
 the shorter comings of others, but to look out of the finite crea- 
 ture and its ideal, into that Law which may be called in contra- 
 distinction, the Ideal of God ; and which reproves the best life 
 of man. Many wUl feel, in reading this book in a wise spirit of 
 self-examination, that they have been, all their days, " without 
 God in the world," although they have cherished that holy VVame, 
 clustered roundabout with a thousand sweet and even sublime 
 associations ; that they have never, like St. Augustine, renounced 
 their own wisdom and virtue, to make room for the Wisdom and 
 Righteousness of God, although they have wished to be modest 
 and faithful, and, in a multitude of their relations, have been so. 
 Here they will find the depth of the meaning of the text, " He 
 that loseth his own life shall find it." 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 One especial advantage, in a practical point of view, which 
 this work has over most of the devotional books written since the 
 Reformation, is the absence of the technology then invented to 
 serve the purposes of the controversies of the day, and which 
 darkens the great doctrines of life to many,. not only of those 
 who have yet to learn them, but of those who idly or supersti- 
 tiously accept " the form of sound words." 
 
 St Augustine never loses sight of the distinction between good 
 and evil, between human and Divine nature ; but in overcom- 
 ing the Manichsean heresy, 'he apprehended, and has expressed, 
 that God made the earth as well as heaven, the darkness as well 
 as light, the waters below the firmament as well as those above. 
 We seem to discern the final cause of evil, in the profound stu- 
 dies of the few last books, which we should read and interpret 
 in the same humble spirit, in which he read and interpreted Mo- 
 ses, nor hastily conclude that that is not true, which may not be 
 expressed where St Augustine thought he saw it ; but which he 
 saw, nevertheless, and which is true at all events. Whether or 
 not the parable of the Spiritual birth with the Creation, as re- 
 lated in the first chapter of Genesis, be legitimate, the account 
 of the Spiritual birth may not be gainsayed, and only a mind 
 greater tlian St Augustine's, is competent to say, that he is fan- 
 ciful, when he considers the Song of Creation, nay the Creation 
 itself, as the Shadow of that Reality, the Allegory of that 
 Truth — the ejcpression in matter of that Energy of Love, creat- 
 ing by Wisdom, which brings the soul of every individual Chris- 
 tiaij out of darkness into marvellous light 
 
 THE PUBLISHER. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 Confession of the greatness and iinaearchabloneEs of God; of God 'a mercies in ia- 
 fancy and boyhood, and human wilTulness; of hia own sins of idleness, abuse o 
 his studies, and of God's gifts up to his fifteenth year. page 9 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 Object of these Confessions, Further ills of idleness developed in his aii^teenth 
 y«ar. Evils of ili society, which betrayed him into theft. S7 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK. 
 
 His residence at Carthage from his seventeenth to his nineteenth year. Source 
 of his disorders. Love of show^. ' Advance in studies, and love of wisdom. 
 Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Manichsana. Refutation of snmo 
 of their tenets. Grief of his mother Monnica at his heresy, and prayers for his 
 conversion. Her vision from God, and answer through a Bishop. 37 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's Ufa from nineteen to eight and twenty; himself a Manichsean, nnd se- 
 ducing others to the same heresy ; partial obedience amidst vanity and sin; 
 consulting astrologers, only partially shaken herein ; loss of an early friend, who 
 is converted by being bilptized when in a swoon; reSections on grief, on real 
 and unreal friendship, and love of fame;' writes on " the fairandfit," yet cannot 
 rightly, though God had given him great talents, since he entertained wrong,Do- 
 tions of God ; and so even his knowledge he applied ill. 50 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 St. Augustine's twenty-ninth year. Fauatus, a snare of Satan to many, made 
 an instrument of deliverance to St. Augustine, by shewing the ignorance of the 
 Maniuhees on those things, wherein they professed to have divine knowledge. 
 Augustine gives up all thought of going further among the Manichees : is guid 
 ed to Rome and Milan, whore he hears St. Ambrose, leaves the Manichees, and 
 becomes again a Catechumen in the Church Catholic. 67 
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 Arrival of Monnica at Milan ; her obedience to St. Ambrose, and his value for 
 her; St. Ambroses habits; Augustine's gradual abandonment of error; finds 
 that he has blamed the Church Catholic wrongly; desire of absolute certainty, 
 but struck with the contrary analogy of God's natural Providence ; how shaken 
 in his worldly pursuits; God's guidance of his friend Alypius ; Augustine 
 debates with himself and his friends about their mode of life ; his inveterate 
 sins, and dread of judgment. . 84 
 
 THE SEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's thity-first year ; gradually extricated from his errors, but still with 
 material conceptions of God ; much aided by an argument of Nebridius ; sees 
 that the cause of sin lies in free-will, rejects the Manichsan heresy, but cannot 
 altogether embrace the doctrine of the Church ; recovered from the belief in As- 
 trology, but miserably perplexed about the origin of evil ; is led to And in the Fla- 
 toniststhe seeds of the doctrine of the Divinity of the Word, but not of His Hu- 
 miliation ; hence he obtains clearer notions of God's majesty, but, not knowing 
 Christ to be the Mediator, remains estranged from Him ; all his doubts removed 
 by the study of Holy Scripture, especially St. Paul. 103 
 
 THE EIGHTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's thirty-second year. He consults Simplicianus ; from him hears the 
 history of the conversion of Victorinus, and longs to devote himself entirely to 
 God, but is mastered by his old habits ; is still further roused by the history of 
 St. Antony, and of the conversion of two courtiers ; during a severe struggle, 
 hears a voice from heaven, opens Scripture, and is converted, with his friend 
 Alypius. His mother's visions fulfilled. 134 
 
 THE NINTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine determines to devote his life to God, and to abandon his profession of 
 Rhetoric, retires to the country to prepare himself to receive Baptism, and is 
 baptized with Alypius, and his son, Adeodatus. At Ostia, in his way to Afri- 
 ca, his mother, Monnica, dies, in her fifty-sixth year, the thirty-third of Augus- 
 tine's. Her life and character. ^44 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE TENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine inquires by what faculty we can know God at all, whence he enlarges 
 on the mysterious character of the memory, wherein God, being made known, 
 dwells, but which could not discover Him. Then he examines his own trials, 
 under the triple division of temptation, " lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and 
 lust of rule ;" what Christian continency prescribes as to each. Christ the Only 
 Mediator, who heals and will heal all infirmities. 166 
 
 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine breaks off the history of the ^ mode whereby God led him to holy 
 Orders, in order to ''confess" God's mercies in opening to him the Scripture. 
 Moses is not to be understood, but in Christ, not even the flrst words, In the 
 heginning Ood ereatedthe heaven and the earth. Answer to cavillers who asked, 
 *' what did God before He created heaven and the earth, and whence willed He 
 at length to make them, whereas He did not make them before 2" Inquiry into 
 the nature of Time* Q06 
 
 THE TWELTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine proceeds to comment on Gen. 1, 1. and explains the *' heaven " to mean 
 that spiritual and incorporeal creation, which cleaves to God unintermittingly, 
 always beholding His countenance ; *' earth,'' the formless matter whereof the 
 corporeal creation was afterwards formed. He does not reject, however, other 
 interpretations , which ho adduces, but rather confesses that such is the depth 
 of Holy Scripture, that manifold senses may and aught ^to be extracted from it, 
 and that whatever truth can be obtained from his words, does, in fact, lie con- 
 cealed in them. 329 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH BOOK. 
 
 Continuation of the exposition of Gen. 1 ; it contains the mystery of the Trinity 
 and a type of the formation, extension, and suF^port of the Church. 055 
 
THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE, 
 
 BISHOP OF HIPPO. 
 
 IN THIRTEEN BOOKS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CoDfesstons of the greatncBs and unsearchablenesa of God. 
 
 [I.] 1. Great art Thou, O Lord, and greatly to be 
 praised; great is Thy power, and Thy wisdom infinite. 
 And Thee man would praise; man, but a particle of Thy 
 creation ; man, that bears about him his mortality, the 
 witness of his sin, the witness that Thou, O God, resist- 
 est the proud : yet would man praise Thee ; he, but a par- 
 ticle of Thy creation. Thou awakest us to delight in 
 Thy praise ; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and, our 
 heart is restless, until it repose in Thee. Urant me, Lord, 
 to know and understand which is first, to call on Thee or 
 to praise Thee? and, again, to know Thee or to call on 
 Thee? For who can call on Thee, not knowing Thee? 
 For he that knoweth Thee not, may call on Thee as other 
 than Thou art. Or, is it rather, that we call on Thee that 
 we may know Thee ? Hut how shall they call on Him in 
 whom they have not belitved? or how shall they believe 
 without a preacher ? And they that seek the Lord shall 
 praise him. For they that seek shall find Him, and they 
 that find shall praise Him. I will seek Thee, Lord, by 
 calling on Thee ; and I will call on Thee, believing in 
 Thee; for to us hast Thou been preached. My faith, 
 1 
 
10 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 Lord, shall call on Thee, which Thou hast given me, 
 wherewith Thou hast inspired me, through the Incarna- 
 tion of Thy Son, through the ministry of Thy Preacher, 
 ril 1 2. And how shall I call upon my God, my Cjod 
 and Lord, since, when I call for Him, I shall be calling 
 Him into myself? and what room is there within me 
 whither ray God can come into me ? Whither can God 
 come into me, God who made heaven and earth t Is there, 
 indeed, O Lord my God, aught in me that can contain 
 Thee? Do then heaven and earth, which Thou hast 
 made, and wherein Thou hast made me, contain Thee? 
 or, because nothing which exists could exist without 
 Thee, doth therefore whatever exists contain Thee? 
 Since, then, I too exist, why do I seek that Thou should- 
 est enter into me, who were not, wert Thou not in me? 
 Why ? Because I am not gone down in hell, and yet 
 Thou art there also. For if I go doivn into hell, Thou 
 art there. I could not be, then, O my God, could not be 
 at all, wert Thou not in me ; or, rather, unless I were in 
 Thee, of whom are all things, hy whom are all things, in 
 whom are all things ? Even so. Lord, even so. Whither 
 do I call Thee, since I am in Thee ? or whence canst 
 Thou enter into me? For whither can I go beyond 
 heaven and earth, that thence ray God should come into 
 me, who hath said, I fll the heaven and the earth ? 
 A [III.] 3. Do the heaven and earth then contain Thee, 
 since Thou fillest them ? or dost Thou fill them and yet 
 overflow, since they do not contain Thee? And whither, 
 when the heaven and the earth are filled, pourest Thou 
 forth the remainder of Thyself? Or hast Thou no need 
 that aught contain Thee, who containest all things, since 
 what Thou fillest. Thou fillest by containing it? For the 
 vessels which Thou fillest uphold Thee not, since, though 
 they were broken. Thou wert not poured out. And when 
 Thou citt poured out on us. Thou art not cast down, but 
 Thou upliftest us ; Thou art not dissipated, but Thou 
 gatherest us. But Thou who fillest all things, fillest Thou 
 them with Thy whole self? or, since all things cannot 
 contain Thee wholly, do they contain part of Thee ? and 
 all at once the same part ? or each its own part, the 
 greater more, the smaller less ? And is, then, one part 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 11 
 
 of Thee greater, another less ? or, art Thou wholly every 
 where, while nothing contains Thee wholly ? I 
 „-^[IV.] 4. What art Thou, then, my God T What, but 
 the Lord God 1 For who is Lord but the Lord? or who 
 is God save our God? Most highest, most good, most 
 potent, most omnipotent ; most merciful, yet most just ; 
 most hidden, yet most present; most beautiful, yet most 
 strong ; stable, yet incomprehensible ; unchangeable, yet 
 all-changing ; never new, never old ; all-renewing, and 
 bringing age upon the proud, and they know it not ; ever 
 working, ever at rest ; still gathering, yet not lacking ; 
 supporting, filling, and overspreading ; creating, nourish- 
 ing, and maturing ; seeking, yea having all things. Thou 
 lovest, without passion ; art jealous, without anxiety ; 
 repentest, yet grievest not ; art angry, yet serene ; chan- 
 gest Thy works. Thy purpoise unchanged ; receivest again 
 what Thou findest, yet didst never lose ; never in need, 
 yet rejoicing in gains; never covetous, yet exacting usury. 
 Thou receivest over and above, that Thou mSyest owe ; 
 and who hath aught that is not Thine? Thou payest 
 debts, owing nothing; remittest debts, losing nothing. 
 And what have I now said, my God, my life/ my holy joy 1 
 or what saith any man when he speaks of Thee? Yet 
 woe to him that speaketh not, since mute are even the 
 most eloquent. 
 
 [v.] 5. Oh ! that I might repose on Thee ! Oh ! that 
 Thou wouldest enter into my heart, and inebriate it, that 
 I may forget my ills, and embrace Thee, my sole good ! 
 What art Thou to me, O Lord ? Have mercy on me, 
 that I may ask. Or what am I to Thee, that thou should- 
 est command me to love Thee, yea, and to be angry with 
 me, and threaten to lay huge miseries upon me, if I love 
 Thee not 1 Is it then a slight woe to love Thee not ? Oh ! 
 for Thy mercies' sake, tell me, O Lord my God, what 
 Thou art unto me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salva- 
 tion ; but say it so that I may hear Thee. Behold, Lord, 
 liiy heart is before Thee ; open Thou the ears thereof, and 
 say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. I will run after the 
 sound of Thy voice, and lay hold on Thee. Hide not 
 Thou Thy face from me. Let me die, that so I may see 
 it; lest otherwise I may so die as not to see it. i 
 
13 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 6. The house of my soul is too strait for Thee to come 
 into; but let it, O Lord, be enlarged, that Thou mayest 
 enter in. It is ruinous; repair Thou it. It has that 
 within which must offend Thine eyes ; I confess and know 
 it. But who shall cleanse it I or to whom should I cry 
 out, save Thee ? Cleanse me from my secret faults, O 
 Lord, and forgive those offences to thy servant which he has 
 caused in other folks. I believe in Thee, and therefore do 
 I.speak. O Lord Thou knowest this. Have I not con- 
 fessed against myself my transgressions unto Thee, and 
 Thou, my God, hast forgiven the iniquity of my heart 7 
 I contend not in judgment with Thee, who art truth ; I fear 
 to deceive myself; lest my sin slwuld make me think that 
 I am, not sinful. Therefore I contend not in judgment 
 with Thee ; for if Thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, 
 O Lord, who shall abide it ? 
 
 [VI.] 7. Yet suffer Thou me to speak unto Thy mercy, 
 me, dust and ashes. Yet suffer me to speak, since I speak 
 to Thy mercy, and not to scornful man. Thou too, per- 
 haps, dost laugh at me, yet wilt Thou turn and have com- 
 passion upon me. For what would I say, OLord my God, 
 but that I know not whence I came into this dying life 
 (shall I call it ?) or living death. Then immediately did 
 the comforts of Thy compassion take me up, as I heard 
 (for I remember it not) from the parents of my flesh, out 
 of whose substance Thou didst sometime fashion me. 
 Then the comforts of woman's milk entertained me. For 
 neither my mother nor my nurses stored their own breasts 
 for me ; but Thou didst bestow the food of ray infancy 
 through them, according to Thine ordinance, whereby 
 Thou distributest Thy riches through the hidden springs 
 of all things. Thou also gavest me to desire no more 
 than Thou gavest ; and to my nurses willingly to give me 
 what Thou gavest them. For they, vi'ith an heaven.taught 
 affection, wiJJingly gave me, what they abounded with 
 from Thee. For this my good from them, was good for 
 them. Nor, indeed, from them was it, but through them ; 
 for from Thee, O God, are all good things, and from my 
 God is all my health. This I afterwards learned, when 
 Thou, through these Thy benedictions, within me and 
 without, proj^laimedst Thyself unto me, For then I knew? 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 13 
 
 but to suck; to Tepose in what pleased, and cry at what 
 offended my flesh ; nothing more. 
 
 8. Afterwards I began to smile ; first in sleep, then 
 waking : for so it was told me of myself, and I believed 
 it ; for we see the like in other infants, though of myself I 
 remember it not. Thus, little by little, I began to find where 
 I was ; and to have a wish to e3q)ress my wishes to those 
 who could content them, and I could not ; for the wishes 
 were within me, and those persons without ; nor could 
 they by any sense of theirs enter within my soul. So I 
 flung about at random limbs and voice, making the few 
 signs I could, and such as I could, like, though in truth 
 very little like, what I wished. And when I was not pre- 
 sently obeyed, (my wishes being hurtful or unintelligible,) 
 then I was indignant with my elders for not submitting to 
 me ; with those owing me no service, for not serving me ; 
 and avenged myself on them by tears. Such have I learnt 
 infants to be from observing them ; and, that I was myself 
 such, they, all unconscious, have shown me better than 
 my nurses who knew it. 
 
 9. And, lo ! my infancy died long since, and I live. 
 But Thou, Lord, who for ever livest, and in whom nothing 
 dies : for before the foundation of the worlds, and before 
 all that can be called " before," Thou art, and art God 
 and Lord of all which Thou hast created : in Thee abide, 
 fixed for ever, the first causes of all things unabiding ; 
 and of all things changeable, the~ springs abide in Thee 
 unchangeable : and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all 
 things unreasoning and temporal. Say, Lord, to me, 'Thy 
 suppliant ; say. All-pitying, to me. Thy pitiable one ; say, 
 did my infancy succeed another age of mine that died 
 before it ? Was it that which I spent within my mother's 
 womb ? for of that I have heard somewhat, and have my- 
 self seen women with child? and what before that life 
 again, O God my joy, was I any where or any body ? For 
 this have I none to tell me, neither father nor mother, nor 
 experience of others, nor mine own memory. Dost Thou 
 laugh at me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and 
 acknowledge Thee, for that which I do know ? 
 
 10. I acknowledge Thee, Lord of heaven and earth, 
 and praise Thee for my first rudiments of being, and my 
 
 I* 
 
14 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 infancy, whereof I remember nothing ; for Thou hast 
 appointed that man should from others guess much as to 
 himself, and believe much on the authority of simple 
 women. Even then I had a being and a life, and (at my 
 infancy's close) I sought for signs, whereby to make my- 
 self known to others. Whence could such a being be, 
 save from Thee, Lord? Shall any be his own artificer? 
 Or can there elsewhere be derived any vein, which may 
 stream essence and life into us, save from Thee, O Lord, 
 in whom essence and life are not several, but one ? for 
 Supremely to live is the very thing in itself which Thou 
 art. For Thou art Supreme, and art not changed, neither 
 in Thee doth To-day come to a close ; yet in Thee doth 
 it come to a close ; because all transitory things also are 
 in Thee. For they had no way to pass away, unless Thou 
 upheldest them. And since Thi/ years fail not, Thy 
 years are one To-day. How many of ours and our fathers' 
 years have flowed away through Thy " to-day," and from it 
 received the measure and the mould of a kind of being ; 
 and still others shall flow away, and so receive the mould 
 of their kind of being. But Thou art still the same, and all 
 things of to-morrow, and all beyond, and all of yesterday, 
 and all behind it, Thou wilt do in this To-day, Thou hast 
 done in this To-day. What is it to me, though any com- 
 prehend not this ? Let him also rejoice and say, What 
 thing is this ? Let him rejoice even thus ; and be content 
 rather by not discovering to discover Thee, than by dis- 
 covering not to discover Thee. 
 
 [VII.] 11. Hear, O God. Alas, for man's sin ! So 
 saith man, and Thou pitiest him ; for Thou madest him, 
 but sin in him Thou madest not. Who remindeth me of 
 the sins of my infancy? for in Thy sight none is pure 
 from sin, not even the infant whose life is but a day upon 
 the earth. Who remindeth me? Doth not each little 
 infant, in whom I .see what of myself I remember not ? 
 What then was my sin? Was it that I hung upon the 
 breast and cried ? For should I now so do for food suit- 
 able to my age, justly should I be laughed at and reproved. 
 What I then did was in itself worthy reproof; but since I 
 could not understand reproof, custom and reason forbade 
 me to be reproved : for such things, when we are grown, we 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 15 
 
 root out and cast away. Now, no man, though he prunes, 
 wittingly casts away what is good. Or was it then good, 
 even for a while, to cry for what, if given, would hurt? 
 bitterly to resent, that persons free, and its own elders, 
 yea, the very authors of its birth, served it not ? that many 
 besides, wiser than it, obeyed not the nod of its good 
 pleasure? to do its best to strike and hurt, because com- 
 mands were not obeyed, which had been obeyed to its 
 hurt? The weakness then of infant limbs, not its will, 
 is its innocence. Myself have seen and known even a 
 baby who could not speak, in a curious kind of wrath ; 
 it turned pale, and looked bitterly on its foster-brother. 
 Who knows not this? Mothers and nurses tell you, that 
 they allay these things by I know not what remedies. Is 
 that too innocence, when the fountain of milk is flowing 
 in rich abundance, not to endure one to share itj though 
 in extremest need, and whose very life as yet depends 
 thereon ? We bear gently with all this, not as being no 
 or slight evils, but because they will disappear as years 
 increase ; for, though tolerated now, the very same tem- 
 pers are utterly intolerable when found in riper years. 
 
 12. Thou, then, O Lord my God, who gavest life to this 
 my infancy, furnishing thus with senses (as we see) the 
 frame Thou gavest, compacting its limbs, beautifying its 
 proportions, and, for its general good and safety, implant- 
 ing in it all vital functions, Thou commandest me to praise 
 Thee in these things, to confess unto Thee and sing unto 
 Thy name, Thou most Highest. For Thou art God, Al- 
 mighty and Good, even hadst Thou done nought but only 
 this, which none could do but Thou : whose Unity is the 
 mould of all things; who out of Thy own Beauty makest 
 all things fair ; and orderest all things by Thy law. This 
 age, then. Lord, whereof I have no remembrance, which 
 I take on athers' word, and guess from other infants that 
 I have passed, true though the guess be, 1 am yet loth to 
 count in this life of mine which I live in this world. For 
 no less than that which I spent in my mother's womb, is 
 it hid from me in the shadows of forgetfulness. But if 
 / was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother con- 
 ceive me, where, I beseech Thee, O my God, where. Lord, 
 or when, was I Thy servant guiltless ? But, lo ! that 
 
16 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 period I pass by ; for what have I now to do with that, of 
 which I can recal no vestige ? 
 
 [VIII.] 13. From the state of infancy, I came to boy- 
 hood, or rather it came to me, displacing infancy. JNor 
 did that depart— (for whither went it 7)— and yet it was 
 no more. For I was no longer a speechless infant, but a 
 speaking boy. This I remember ; and have since observed 
 how I learned to speak. It was not that my elders taught 
 me words (as, soon after, other learning) in any set 
 method ; but I, longing by cries and broken accents, and 
 various motions of my limbs to express my thoughts, that 
 BO I might have my will, and yet unable to express all I 
 willed, or to whom I willed, did myself, by the under- 
 standing which Thou, my God, gavest me, practise the 
 sounds in my memory. When they named any thing, and 
 as they spoke turned towards it, I saw and remembered 
 that they called what they would point out, by the name 
 they uttered. And that they meant this thing and no 
 other, was plain from the motion of their body, the natu- 
 V' ral language, as it were, of all nations, expressed by the 
 countenance, glances of the eye, gestures of the limbs, aild 
 tones of the voice, indicating the affections of the mind, 
 as it pursues, possesses, rejects, or shuns. And thus, by 
 constantly hearing words, as they occurred in various sen- 
 tences, I collected gradually for what they stood ; and 
 having broken in my mouth to these sounds, I thereby 
 gave utterance to my will. Thus I exchanged with those 
 about me these current signs of our wills, and so launched 
 deeper into the stormy intercourse of human life, yet 
 depending on parental authority and the beck of elders. 
 
 [IX.] 14. O God my God, what miseries and mocke- 
 ries did I now experience, when obedience to my teachers 
 was proposed to me, as proper in a boy, in order that in 
 this world I might prosper, and excel in tongue-science, 
 which should serve to the " praise of men," and to deceit- 
 ful riches. Next I was put to school to get learning, in 
 which I (poor wretch) knew not what use there was; and 
 yet, if idle in learning, I was beaten. For this was judged 
 right by our forefathers ; and many, passing the same 
 course before us, framed for us weary paths, through 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 17 
 
 which we were fain to pass ; multiplying toil and grief 
 upon the sons of Adam. But, O Lord, we found that 
 men called upon Thee, and we learnt from them to think 
 of Thee (according to our powers) as of some great 
 thing, who, though hiddep from our senses, couldst hear 
 and help us. So I began, yet a boy, to pray to Thee for aid 
 and refuge ; and I broke the fetters of my tongue to call 
 on Thee, praying, though small, yet with no small earnest- 
 ness, that I might not be beaten at school. And when 
 Thou heardest me not, (not thereby giving me over to 
 folly,) my elders, yea, my very parents, who yet wished 
 me no ill, laughed at my stripes, my then great and griev- 
 ous misery. 
 
 15. Is there. Lord, any of soul so great, and cleaving 
 to Thee with so intense affection, (for a sort of stupidity 
 will in a way do it;) but is there any one, who, from 
 cleaving devoutly to Thee, is endued with so great a 
 spirit, that he can think as lightly of the racks and hooks 
 and other torments,, (against which, throughout all lands, 
 men call on Thee with extreme dread,) and make sport at 
 those by whom they are feared most bitterly, as our pa- 
 rents laughed at the torments which we suffered in boy- 
 hood from our masters ? For we feared not those 
 torments less than the martyrs theirs ; nor prayed we less 
 to escape them. And yet we sinned, writing or reading 
 or studying- less than was exacted of us. For we wanted 
 not, O Lord, memory or capacity, whereof Thy will gave 
 enough for our age; but our sole delight was play; and 
 for this we were punished by those who yet themselves 
 were doing the like. 'But elder folks' idleness is called 
 " business ;" that of boys, although really the same, is 
 punished by those elders ; and none commiserate either 
 boys or men. For will any of sound discretion approve 
 of my being beaten as a boy, because, by playing at ball, 
 I made less progress in studies which I was to learn, only 
 that, as a man, I might play more dangerously ? For how 
 else was it with him, who beat me? if worsted in some 
 trifling discussion with his fellow-tutor, he was more em- 
 bittered and jealous than I, when beaten at ball by a 
 play-fellow. 
 
18 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 [X.] 16. And yet, I sinned herein, O Lord God, the 
 Creator and Orderer of all things in nature, of sin the 
 Orderer only, O Lord my God, I sinned in transgressing 
 the commands of my parents and those of my masters. 
 For what they, with whatever motive, would have me learn, 
 I might afterward have put to good use ; and I disobeyed, 
 not from a better choice, but from love of play, loving the 
 pride of victory in my contests, and to have my ears 
 tickled with lying fables, that they might itch the more ; 
 the same curiosity flashing from my eyes more and more, 
 for the shows and games of my elders. Yet those who 
 give these shows are in such esteem, that almost all wish 
 the same for their children, and yet are very willing that 
 they should be beaten, if those very games detain them 
 from the studies, whereby they would have them attain to 
 be the givers of them. Look with pity. Lord, on these 
 things, and deliver us who call upon Thee now ; deliver 
 those too who call not on Thee yet, that they may call on 
 Thee, and Thou mayest deliver them. 
 
 [XL] 17. As a boy, then, I had already heard of an 
 eternal life, promised us through the humility of the Lord 
 our God stooping to our pride ; and even from the womb 
 of my mother, who greatly hoped in Thee, I was sealed 
 with the mark of His cross and salted with His salt. 
 Thou sawest. Lord, how while yet a boy, being seized on 
 a time with sudden oppression of the stomach, and like 
 near to death — Thou sawest, my God, (for Thou wert my 
 keeper,) with what eagerness and what faith I sought, 
 from the pious care of my mother and Thy Church, the 
 mother of us all, the baptism of Thy Christ ray God and 
 Lord. Whereupon the mother of my flesh, being much 
 troubled, (since, with a heart pure in Thy faith, she even 
 more lovingly travailed in hirih of my salvation,) would 
 in eager haste have provided for my consecration and 
 cleansing by the healthgiving sacraments, confessing 
 Thee, Lord Jesus, for the remission of sins, unless I had 
 suddenly recovered. And so, as if I must needs be again 
 polluted should I live, my cleansing was deferred, because 
 the defilements of sin would, after that washing, bring 
 greater and more perilous guilt. I then already believed ; 
 and my mother, and the whole household, except my fa- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 19 
 
 ther : yet did not he prevail over the power of my 
 mother's piety in me, that as he did not yet believe, so 
 neither should I. For it was her earnest care, that Thou, 
 my God, rather than he, shouldst be my father ; and in 
 this Thou didst aid her to prevail over her husband, whom 
 she, although she was the better of the two, obeyed, be- 
 cause this was obeying Thee, Who hast so commanded. 
 
 18. I beseech Thee, my God, I would fain know, if so 
 Thou wiliest, for what purpose my baptism was then de- 
 ferred? Was it for my good that the rein was laid loose, 
 as it were, upon me, for me to sin 1 or was it not laid 
 loose? If not, why does it still echo in our ears on all 
 sides, " Bet him alone, let him do as he will, for he is not 
 yet baptized ?" but as to bodily health, no one says, " Let 
 him be worse wounded, for he is not yet healed." How 
 much better, then, had I been at once healed ; and then, 
 by my friends' diligence and my own, my soul's recovered 
 health had been kept safe in Thy keeping who gavest it. 
 Better truly. But how many and great waves of tempta- 
 tion seemed to hang over me after my boyhood ! These 
 my mother foresaw ; and preferred to expose to them the 
 clay whence I might afterwards be moulded, than the 
 very cast, when made. 
 
 [XII.] 19. In boyhood itself, however, (so much less 
 dreaded for me than youth,) I loved not study, and hated 
 to be forced to it. Yet I was forced ; and this was well 
 done towards me, but I did not well ; for, unless forced, 
 I had not learnt. But no one doth well against his will, 
 even though what he doth, be well. Yet neither did they 
 well who forced me, but what was well came to me from 
 Thee, my God. For they were regardless how I should 
 employ What they forced me to learn, except to satiate 
 the insatiate desires of a wealthy beggary, and a shame- 
 ful glory. But Thou, by whom the very hairs of our head 
 are numbered, didst use for my good the error of all who 
 urged me to learn ; and my own, who would not learn. 
 Thou didst use for my punishment — a fit penalty for one, 
 so small a boy and so great a sinner. So by those who 
 did not well. Thou didst well for me ; and by my own sin 
 Thou didst justly punish me. For Thou hast command- 
 
20 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ed, and so it is, that every inordinate afFection should be 
 its own punishment. 
 
 [XIII.] 20. But why did I so much hate the Greek, 
 which I studied as a boy ? I do not yet fully know. For 
 the Latin I loved ; not what my first masters, but what 
 the so-called grammarians taught me. For those first 
 lessons, reading, writing, and arithmetic, I thought as 
 great .a burden and penalty as any Greek. And yet 
 whence was this, too, but from the sin and vanity of this 
 life, because I was flesh, and a breath that passeth away 
 and Cometh not again 1 For those first lessons were bet- 
 ter certainly, because more certain ; by them I obtained, 
 and still retain, the power of reading what! find written, 
 and myself writing what I will ; whereas in the others, I 
 was forced to learn and lay up the follies of I know not 
 what jEneas, whilst I forgot my own ; and to weep for 
 Dido dead, because she killed herself for love ; the whjle, 
 with dry eyes, I endured my miserable self to depart' and 
 die from Thee, O my God and my life ! 
 
 21. For what more miserable than a miserable being 
 who pities not himself; but weeps the death of Dido for 
 love to ^neas, instead of weeping his own death for 
 want of love to Thee, O God. Thou light of my heart, 
 Thou bread of my inmost soul. Thou power who givest 
 vigor to my mind, who quickenest my thoughts, I loved 
 Thee not. I committed fornication against Thee, and all 
 around me also fornicating there echoed " Well done ! 
 well done !" For the friendship of this world is fornica- 
 tion against Thee ; and " Well done ! well done !" 
 echoes on till one is ashamed not to be thus a man. And 
 all this I wept not, I who vi^ept for Dido slain, and " seek- 
 ing by the sword a stroke and wound extreme ;" myself 
 seeking the while a worse extreme, the extreme'st and 
 lowest of Thy creatures, having forsaken Thee, earth 
 passing into the earth. And if forbid to read all this, I 
 was grieved that I might not read what grieved me. 
 Madness like this is thought a higher and richer learn- 
 ing, than that by which I learned to read and'write. 
 
 22. But now, my God, cry Thou aloud in my soul ; 
 and let Thy truth tell me, " Not so, not so. Far better 
 was that first study." For, lo, I would readily forget the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 21 
 
 wanderings of ^neas and all the rest, rather than how to 
 read and write. But over the entrance of the Grammar 
 School is a vail drawn ! true ; yet is this not so much an 
 emblem of aught recondite, as a cloke of error. Let not 
 those, whom 1 no longer fear, cry out against me, while I 
 confess to Thee, my God, whatever' my soul will, and 
 acquiesce in the condemnation of my evil ways, that I 
 may love Thy good ways. Let not either buyers or sel- 
 lers of grammar-learning cry out against me. For if I 
 "question them whether it be true, that .^neas came on a 
 time to Carthage, as the Poet tells, the less learned will 
 reply that they know not, the more learned that he never 
 did. But should I ask wilh what letters the name 
 "^neas" is written, every one who has learnt this will 
 answer me aright, as to the signs which inen have con- 
 ventionally settled. If, again, I should ask, which faiight 
 be forgotten with least detriment to the concerns of life, 
 reading and writing, or these poetic fictions ? who does 
 not foresee, what all must answer, who have not wholly 
 forgotten themselves 1 I sinned, then, when as a boy I 
 preferred those empty to those more profitable studies, or 
 rather loved the one and hated the other. " One and 
 one, two ;" " two and two, four ;" this was to me a hate- 
 ful sing-song : " the wooden horse lined with armed men," 
 and "the burning of Troy," and " Creusa's shade and 
 sad similitude," were the choice spectacle of my vanity. 
 
 [XIV.] 23. Why then did I hate the Greek classics, 
 which have the like tales ? For Homer also curiously 
 wove the like fictions, and is most sweetly-vain, yet was 
 he bitter to ray boyish taste. And so I suppose would 
 Virgil be to Grecian children, when forced to learn him 
 as I was Homer. Difficulty, in truth, the difiiculty of a 
 foreign tongue, dashed, as it were, with gall, all the 
 sweetness of Grecian fable. For not one word of it did I 
 understand, and to make me understand I was urged 
 vehemently with cruel threats and punishments. Time 
 was also, (as an infant,) I knew no Latin ; but this I 
 learned without fear or suffering, by mere observation, 
 amid the caresses of my nursery and jests of friends, 
 smiling and sportively encouraging me. "This I learned 
 without any pressure of punishment to urge me on, for 
 2 
 
22 
 
 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 ray heart urged me to give birth to its conceptions, which , 
 I could only do by learning words ; but it was not of 
 teachers, but of those who talked with me ; in whose 
 ears also 1 gave birth to the thoughts, which I conceived. 
 Hereby it appears that free curiosity has more force in 
 our learning of tongues than frightful enforcement. Only 
 this enforcement restrains the rovings of that freedom^ 
 through Thy laws, O my God, which begin with the 
 master's ferula and go on to the martyr's torments,, tem- 
 pering for us a wholesome bitter, recalling us to Thyself 
 from that deadly pleasure which lures us from Thee. 
 
 [XV.] 24. Hear, Lord, my prayer ; let not my soul 
 faint under Thy discipline, nor let me faint in confessing 
 unto Thee all Thy mercies, whereby Thou hast drawn 
 me out of all my most evil ways, that Thou mightest be- 
 come a delight to me above all the allurements which I 
 once pursued ; that I may most entirely love Thee, and 
 clasp Thy hand with all the roots of my heart, and Thou 
 mayest yet rescue me from every temptation, even unto 
 the end. For, lo, O Lord, my King and my God, for 
 Thy service be whatever useful thing my childhood learn- 
 ed ; for Thy service, that I speak — write — read — reckon. 
 For Thou didst grant me Thy discipline, while I was 
 learning vanities ; and my sin of ^^delighting in those van- 
 ities Thou hast forgiven. In them, indeed, I learnt many ■ 
 a useful word, but these may as well be learned in things 
 not vain ; and that is the safe path for the steps of youth. 
 
 [XVI.] 25: But woe is thee, thou torrent of human 
 custom ! Who shall stand against thee 1 How long 
 shalt thou not be dried up? How long shall the sons of 
 Eve roll and toss in that huge and hideous sea, which 
 even theyscarcely overpass who are shipped in the Cross ? 
 Did not I read in thee of Jove the thunderer and th^, 
 adulterer? Both, doubtless, he could not be; but so the 
 feigned thunderer might countenance and pander the real 
 adulterer. And now which of our gowned masters would 
 hear one who from their own school cries out, " Thes^ 
 were Homer's fictions, transferring things human to the 
 gods; would he had brought down things divine to us!" 
 Yet, more truly had he said, " These are indeed his fie 
 tions ; attributing a divine nature to wicked men, that 
 
ST. AITGUSTINE. 23 
 
 crimes might be no longer crimes, and whoso commits 
 them might seem to imitate not abandoned men, but the 
 celestial gods." 
 
 26. And yet, thou hellish torrent, into thee are cast the 
 sons of men with promise of rich reward for compassing 
 such learning; and a great solemnity is made of it, when 
 this is going on in the forum, within sight of laws aip- 
 pointing a salary beside the scholar's payments ; and thou 
 lashest thy rocks, and roarest, " Hence words are learnt; 
 hence eloquence ; most necessary to gain your ends, or 
 maintain opinions." As if we should have never known 
 such words as "golden shower," "lap," "beguile," 
 " temples of the heavens," or others in that passage, un- 
 less Terence had brought a lewd youth upon the stage, 
 setting up Jupiter as his example of seduction. 
 
 Viewing a picture, where the tale was drawn, 
 Of Jove's descending in a golden shower 
 To Danae's lap, a woman to beguile. 
 
 And then mark how he excites himself to lust as by 
 celestial authority : 
 
 And what God ? Great Jove> 
 Who shakes heav'n's highest temples with his thunder, 
 And I, poor mortal man, not do the same ! 
 I did it, and with all my heart I did it 
 
 Not one whit more easily are the words learnt for all this 
 vileness ; but by their means the vileness is committed 
 with less shame. Not that I blame the words, being, as 
 it were, choice and precious vessels ; but that wine of 
 error which is drunk to us in them by intoxicated teach- 
 ers ; and if we, too, drink not, we are beaten, and have 
 no sober judge to whom we may appeal. Yet, O my 
 God, (in whose presence I now without hurt may remem- 
 ber this,) all this unhappy I learnt willingly with great 
 delight, and for this was pronounced a hopeful boy. 
 
 [XVII.} 27. Bear with me, my God, while I say some- 
 what of niy wit. Thy gift, and on what dotages I wasted 
 it. For a task was set me, troublesome enough to my 
 soul, upon terms of praise or shame, and fear of stripes, 
 to speak the words of Juno, as she raged and mourned 
 that she could not 
 
 This Trojan prince from Latium turn. 
 
24 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 Which words I had heard that Juno never uttered ; but 
 we were forced to go astray in the footsteps of these po- 
 etic fictions, and to say in prose much that he expressed 
 in verse. And his speaking was most applauded, in whom 
 the passions of rage and grief were most preeminent, and 
 clothed in the most fitting language, maintaining the dig- 
 nity of the character. What is it to me, O m'y true life, 
 my God, that my declamation was -applauded above so 
 many of my own age and class 1 Was not all this smoke 
 and wind ? And was there nothing else whereon to ex- 
 ercise my wit and tongue? Thy praises, Lord, Thy 
 praises might have stayed the yet tender shoot of ray heart 
 by the prop of Thy Scriptures ; so had it not trailed away 
 amid these empty trifles, a defiled prey for the spirits of 
 the air. For in more ways than one do men sacrifice to 
 the rebellious angels. 
 
 [XVIII.] 28. But what marvel that I was thus carried 
 away to vanities, and estranged from Thee, O my God, 
 when men were set before me as models, who, if in relat- 
 ing some action of theirs, in itself not ill, they commit- 
 ted some barbarism or solecism, were abashed ; but when 
 in rich and adorned and well-ordered discourse they re- 
 lated their own disordered life, they gloried? These 
 things Thou seest. Lord, and boldest Thy peace ; long- 
 suffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth. Wilt Thou 
 hold Thy peace for ever ? Even now Thou drawest out 
 of this horrible gulf the soul that seeketh Thee, that 
 thirsteth for Thy pleasures, whose heart saith unto Thee, 
 /■ have sought Thy face ; Thy face. Lord, will I seek. 
 For darkened affection is removal from Thee. For it is 
 not by our feet, or change of place, that we leave Thee, 
 or return unto Thee. Nor did that younger son of thine 
 look out for horses or chariots, or ships, and fly with vis- 
 ible wings, or journey by the motion of his limbs, that he 
 might in a far country waste in riotous living all Thou 
 gavest at his departure. A loving Father Thou wert 
 when Thou gavest; but more loving unto him wert Thou 
 when he returned empty. Therefore, in unclean, that is, 
 in darkened affections, is the true distance from Thy face. 
 
 29. Behold, O Lord God, yea, behold patiently as Thou 
 art wont, how carefully the sons of men observe the cove- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 25 
 
 nanted rules of letters and syllables that those who spake 
 before them used, neglecting the eternal covenant of eve> 
 lasting salvation received from Thee. Inasmuch, that a 
 teacher or learner of the hereditary laws of pronouncia- 
 tion will more offend men, by speaking without the 
 aspirate, of a " uman being," in despite of the laws of 
 grammar, than if he, a " human being," hate a " human 
 being" in despite of Thee. As if an enemy could be 
 more hurtful than the hatred with which he is incensed 
 against him; or could wound more deeply him whom he 
 persecutes, than he wounds his own soul by his enmity. 
 Assuredly no science of letters can be so innate as the 
 record of conscience, " that he is doing to another what 
 from another,he would be loath to suffer." How deep 
 are Thy ways, O God, Thou only great, that sittest silent 
 on high, and by an unwearied law dispensing penal blind- 
 ness to lawless desires. In quest of the fame of eloquence, 
 a man standing before a human judge, surrounded by a 
 human throng, declaiming against his enemy with fiercest 
 hatred, will take heed most watchfully, lest, by an error 
 of the tongue, he murder the word "human-being;" but 
 takes no heed, lest, through the malice of his heart, he 
 murder the real human being. 
 
 30. This was the world at whose gate I lay while yet a 
 boy; this the stage, when I had feared more to commit a 
 barbarism, than having committed one, to envy those who 
 had not. These things I speak and confess to Thee, my 
 God; for- which I had praise from them, whom I then 
 thought it all virtue to please. For I saw not the abyss 
 of vileness, wherein / was cast, vmay from Thine eyes. 
 Before Thine eyes what was more foul than I, displeasing 
 even such as myself; with innumerable lies deceiving my 
 tutor, my masters, my parents, out of love of play, eager- 
 ness to see vain shows, and restlessness to imitate them ! 
 Thefts also I committed, from my parents' cellar and 
 table, enslaved by greediness, or that I might have to give 
 to boys, who sold me their games, which all the while 
 they liked no less than I. In play, too, I often sought 
 unfair conquests, being conquered myself by vain desire 
 of preeminence. And what could I so impatiently en- 
 dure, or, when I detected it, upbraid so fiercely,, as that 
 2* 
 
26 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 which I was doing to others ; and yet when I was detect- 
 ed, and upbraided, I chose rather to quarrel, than to 
 yield. And is this the innocence prone to boyhood T XSot 
 so. Lord, not so ; I cry Thy mercy, O my God. For these 
 very sins, as riper years succeed, these very -sins are 
 transferred from tutors and masters, from nuts and balls 
 and sparrows, to magistrates and kings, to gold and 
 manors and slaves, just as severer punishments displace, 
 the ferula. It was the low stature then of childhood 
 which Thou our King did commend as an emblem of 
 lowliness, when Thou saidst. Of such is the kingdom , 
 of heaven. 
 
 31. Yet, Lord, to Thee, the Creator and Governor of- 
 the universe, most excellent and most good, thanks were 
 due to Thee our God, even hadst Thou destined for me 
 boyhood only. For even then I was, I lived, and felt ; 
 and had an implanted providence over my own individu- 
 ality, which is a kind of miniature of that mysterious 
 Unity of Thine, whence I am derived. Guarded by the 
 inward sense of the entireness .of my senses ; in these 
 minute pursuits, and in my thoughts on things minute, I 
 learnt to delight in truth ; I hated to be deceived ; I had 
 a vigorous memory ; was gifted with speech, was regaled 
 by friendship, avoided pain of body, baseness of mind, 
 ignorance. In so small a creature, what was not won- 
 derful, admirable ? But all were gifts of my God ; it was 
 not I, who gave them me ; and good these are, and these 
 together are myself. Good, then, is He that made me, 
 and He is my good; and before Him will I exult for 
 every good which as a boy I had. But herein I sinned, 
 that not in Him, but in His creatures — myself and 
 others — I sought for pleasures, sublimities, truth's, and 
 so fell head-long into sorrows, confusions, errors. Thanks 
 be to Thee, my joy and my glory and my confidence, my - 
 God! thanks be to Thee for Thy gifts; but do Thou 
 preserve them to me. For so wilt Thou preserve me, 
 and those things shall be enlarged and perfected, which 
 Thou hast given me, and I myself shall be with Thee, 
 since Thou hast given me my being. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 27 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 Object of these Confeasions, 
 
 [I.] 1. I will now call to mind my past foulness, and 
 the carnal ,^^j|fu^ioDs of my soul : not because I love 
 them, but thal'^'may love Thee, O my God. For love of 
 Thy love I dof it ; reviewing my most wicked ways In the 
 very bitterness ,pf my remembrance, that Thou mayest 
 graw sw^t unto'me ; Oh Thou sweetness never feiling. 
 Thou bli^fnl and assured sweetness, gathering niejpgain 
 out of thalNtdJ^sfpation wherein I was torn piecemeal, 
 being turned from Thee, the One Good, and lost among 
 a multiplicity of things. For in my youth I burned to 
 be satiated, and "dared to grow fantastic with various and 
 shadowy loves : my ieantty consumed away, and I went 
 rotting in Thine eyes; pleasing myself, and desirous to 
 please the eyes of men. 
 
 [n-.] 2. And what was it that I delighted in, but to 
 love, and be beloved? but I kept not the measure of love, 
 of mind to mind, friendship's fair limit; but out of the 
 muddy concupiscence of the flesh, and the bubblings of 
 youth, mists fumed up which beclouded and overcast my 
 heart, that I could not discern the clear brightness of love, 
 from the fog of lustfulness. Both did confusedly boil in 
 me, and 'hurried my unstayed youth over the Precipice of 
 unholy desires, and sunk me in a gulf of flE^itiousness. 
 Thy wrath had gathered over me, and I knew it not. I 
 was grown deaf by the clanking of the chain of my mor- 
 tality, the punishment of the' pride of my soul, and I 
 strayed further from Thee, and Thou lettest me alone, 
 and I was tossed about, and wasted, and dissipated, and 
 I boiled over in my fornications, and Thou heldest Thy 
 peace, O Thou my tardy joy ! Thou then heldest Thy 
 peace, and I wandered further and further from Thee, 
 into more and more fruitless seed-plots of sorrow, and a 
 proud dejectednes^, and a restless weariness. 
 
 3. Oil ! that some one had then attempted niy disorder, 
 and turned to account the fleeting beauties of these, the 
 
28; 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 extreme points of Thy creation ! had put a bound to their 
 pleasurabless, so that the tides of my youth, might have 
 / cast themselves upon the marriage shore, if they could 
 not be calmed, and kept vi^ithin the object of a family, as 
 Thy law prescribes, O Lord : who this way formest the 
 offspring of this our death, being able with a gentle, hand" 
 to blunt the thorns, , which were excluded 'from Thy para- 
 dise? For Thy omnipotency is not far from us, even 
 when we be far from Thee. Else ougTit I more watch- 
 fully to have heeded the voice from the clouds ; Never- 
 theless such shall have trouble in the Jlesh, but I spare 
 you. And, it is good f6r a man not todouch a, woman. 
 And, he that is unmarried thinheth of the things of the 
 Lord, how he may please the Lord; but WsUhatfs married 
 careth for the things of this world, how he may please his 
 wife. 
 
 4. To these words had I listened more attentively, I- 
 had more happily awaited Thy embraces; but I, poor* 
 wretch, foamed like a troubled sea, following the rushingi 
 of my own tide, forsaking Thee, and transgressing all 
 Thy tolerations ; yet I escaped not Thy scourges. For 
 what mortal can 1_ For Thou wert ever with me merci- 
 fully cruel, besprinkling with most bitter disgust all my 
 unlawful pleasures : that I might seek pleasures without 
 alloy. Butj:yhere to find such, I could not discover, save 
 in Thee, O Lord, who teachest by sorrow, and woundest 
 us, to heal;; and killest us, lest we die from Thee. 
 Where was 1, and how far went I exiled from the delica-. 
 cies of Thypouse, in that sixteenth year of the age of 
 ray flesh, wHenthe madness of lust took the rule over 
 me, and I resigned myself wholly to it? My friends 
 meanwhile took no care by marriage to save my fall ; 
 their only care was that I should learn to speak excellent- 
 ly, and be a persuasive orator. 
 
 [IIL] 5. For that year were my studies intermitted ; 
 whilst after my return from Madaura, (a neighbor city,, 
 whither I had journeyed to learn grammar and rhetoric,) ,. 
 the expenses for a further journey to Carthage were pro- 
 vided for me, by the resolution rather than by the means 
 of my father, who was but a poor freeman of Thagaste. 
 To' whom tell I this? not to Thee, my God ; but before 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 29 
 
 Thee to mine own kind, even to that small portion of man- 
 kind as may light upon these writings of mine. And to 
 what purpose ? that whosever reads this, may think out of 
 what depths we ar^e to cry unto Thfe. For what is nearer 
 to Thine ear? thian a confessing heart, and a life of faith 1 
 Who did B^f "'eiSol my father, that beyond the ability of 
 his means, he would furnish his son with all necessaries 
 for a far journey for his studies' sake 1 Many far abler 
 citizens did no such thing for their children. But yet this 
 same father had no concern how I grew towards Thee, or 
 how chaste I were ; nor, were I" but copious in speech, 
 how barren in thy culture, O God, was the field of my 
 heart. *^ 
 
 6. But while in that my sixteenth year I lived ^ith my 
 parents, leaving school for a while, (a season of idleness 
 being interposed through the narrowness of my parents' 
 fortunes,) the briers of unclean desire grew rank over my 
 head, and there was no hand to root them out. When my 
 father saw me at the baths, now growing toward manhood, 
 and endued with a restless youthfulness, as if anticipating V 
 his descendants, he gladly told it to Aiy mother ; rejoicing 
 in that tumult of the senses wherein the world forgetteth 
 Thee its Creator, and becometh enamored of Thy crea- 
 ture, instead of Thyself; througHthe fumes of the invis- 
 ible wine of self-will, turning aside and bowing down to 
 the very basest things. But in my mother's breast Thou 
 hadst already Thy temple, and the foundation of Thy holy 
 habitation, whereas my father was as yet but a catechu- 
 men, and that but recently. She then was startled with 
 an holy fear and trembling ; and though I was not as yet 
 baptized, feared for me those crooked ways, in which they 
 walk, who turn their bach to Thee, and not their face, 
 
 1. Woe is me ! and dare I say that Thou heldest Thy 
 peace, O my God, while I wandered further from Thee] 
 Didst Thou then indeed hold Thy peace to me ? And 
 whose but Thine were these words which by my mother. 
 Thy faithful one. Thou sangest in my ears ? But it en- 
 tered not into my heart to do as she desired. For she 
 ■^fished, and I remember in private with great anxiety 
 ■warned me, " not to commit fornication ; but especially 
 never to defile another man's wife." These seemed to me 
 
30 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 old wives' counsels/which I should blush to obey. But 
 they were Thine, and I knew it not : and I thought Thou 
 wert silent, and that, it was she who spake; by whom 
 Thou wert not silent, unto me ; and in her person wast 
 Tliou despised by me,'Tier son, the son of Thy handmaid, 
 Thy servant. But I knew it not then ; and I ran head- 
 long with such blindness, that amongst my equals I was 
 ashathed to be less vicious, when I heard them boast of 
 their wickedness, yea, and the more boast, the more they 
 were degraded : and I took pleasure, not only in the 
 pleasure of the deed, but in the praise. What is worthy 
 of blajne but Vice? But I made myself worse than I 
 was, that I might not be dispraised; and when in any 
 thing I .^had not sinmed like the abandoned ones, I would 
 say that I had done what I had not done, that I might not 
 seem contemptible in proportion as I was innocent ; or of 
 less account, the more chaste. 
 
 8. Behold with wh.at companions I walked the streetsj^ 
 of Babylon, and wallowed in the mire thereof, as if in a 
 bed of spices, and precious ointments. And that I might 
 be knit the more firmly to the very root of sin, the invisi- 
 ble enemy trod me do'vvn, and seduced me, for I was then 
 made fit matter for himito work upon. Neither did the 
 mother of my flesh, (who had now fled out of the centre 
 of Babylon, yet went more slowly in the skirts thereof,) 
 although she advised me to chastityj so heed what she had 
 heard of me from her husband, as to restrain within the 
 bounds of conjugal affection, (if it could not be par^d 
 away to the quick,) what she felt to be pestilent at pres- 
 ent, and for the future dangerous. She feared, lest a wife 
 should prove a clog and hindrance to my hopes ; not 
 those hopes of the world to come, which my mother re- 
 posed in Thee ; but the hope of learning, which both ray 
 parents were too desirous I should attain; my father, 
 because he had next to no thought of Thpe, and of rae 
 but vain conceits : my mother, because she accounted 
 that those usual courses of learning would not only be no 
 hindrance, but even some furtherance towards attaining 
 Thee. Thus I conjecture, recalling as well as I may, 
 the disposition of my parents. The reins, mean time, 
 were slackened to me, beyond all reason, to spend my 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. , 3} 
 
 time in sport, yea, gJviog^,top large a scope to my affec- 
 tions. And in all wa^.'ffraist, intercepting froui me, O 
 my God, the brigljjness of Tby truth ; and mine iuim/Hy 
 burst out as from very fatness. 
 
 [IV.] 9. Theft is punished by Thy law, O Lord, and 
 the law written in the hearts of men, which iniquity itself 
 cannot blo't out. For what thief will abide a thief? not 
 even a rich- thief will abide one who steals through want. 
 Yet I lusted to thieve, and did so, corapdjed by no hun- 
 ger, nor poverty, but through a cloyedness of well-doing, 
 and a pamperedness of iniquity, for I stole that of which 
 I had enough, and much better. Nor cared I to enjoy 
 what I stole, but joyed in the theft and sin itself. A pear 
 tree there was near our vineyard, laden with fruit, tempt- 
 ing neither for color nor taste. To shake and rob this, 
 some lewed young fellows of us went, late one night, 
 (having according to our pestilent custom prolonged our 
 sports in the streets till then,) and took huge loads, -not 
 for our eating, but to fling to the very hogs, having only 
 tasted them. And this we did only because we would do 
 that. which was not lawful. Behold my heart, O God, 
 behold iny heart, which Thou hadst pity upon in the bot- 
 tom of the bottomless pit. Now, behold let my heart tell 
 Thee, what it sought when 1 would be gratuitously evil, 
 having no temptation to ill, i>ut the ill itself. It was foul, 
 and I loved it ; I loved to perish, 1 loved mine own fault ; 
 not that for which I was faulty, but my fault itself. Foul 
 soul, falling from Thy firmanent to utter destruction ; not 
 seeking aught through the shame, but the shame itself! 
 
 [V.J 10. For there is an attractiveness in beautiful 
 bodies, in gold and silver, and all things ; and in .bodily 
 touch, sympathy hath much influence ; and each other 
 sense hath his proper object answerably tempered. Worldly 
 honor hath also its grace, and the power of overcoming, 
 and of mastery ; whence springs also the thirst of revenge. 
 But yet, to obtain all these, we may not depart from Thee,, 
 O Lorjd, nor decline from Thy law. The life also whereby 
 we live hath its own enchantment, through a certain pro- 
 portion of its own, and a correspondence with all things 
 beautiful here below. Human frieqdship also is endeared 
 with a sweet tie, by reason of the unity formed of many 
 
33 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 souls. Upon occasion of all these, and the like, is sin com- 
 mitted, while through an immoderate inclination towards 
 these goods of the lowest order, the fetter and higher are 
 forsaken— Thyself, our Lord God, thy truth, and Thy 
 law. For these lower things have their delights, but they 
 are not like my God, who made all things; for in Him, 
 doth the righteous delight, and he is the joy of the upright 
 in heart.- 
 
 . 11. When, therefore, inquiry is made why any wick- 
 edness was done, it is usually conceived to have proceeded 
 either from the desire of obtaining some of those things 
 which we called lower goods, or from a fear of losing 
 them. For they ire beautiful and comely ; although con\- 
 pared with higher and beatific goods, they be abject and 
 low. A man hath murdered another ; why ? he loved his 
 wife or his estate; or would rob for his own livelihood; 
 or feared to lose something by him; or was on fire to be 
 revenged. Would any commit murder only for the delight 
 he takes in murdering 1 Who would believe it ? For as for 
 that furious and savage man, of whom it is said that he 
 was gratuitously evil and cruel, yet is the cause assigned : 
 " lest," saith he, " through idleness hand or heart should 
 grow inactive." And to what end ? That, through that 
 practice of guilt, he might, when once he had taken the 
 city, attain to honor, empire, riches, and be freed from 
 fear of the laws, which he feared through the conscience 
 of his own villany, and from the possibility of want. So 
 not even Catiline himself loved his own villanies, but 
 something else, to obtain which he would be wicked. 
 
 [VI.] 12. What then did wretched I so love in thee, 
 thbu theft of mine, thou deed of darkness, in that six- 
 teenth year of my age? Lovely thou wert not, because 
 thou wert theft. But art thou any thing, that thus I speak 
 to thee ? Fair were the pears we stole, because they were 
 Thy creation, Thou fairest of all. Creator of all. Thou 
 good God ; God, the sovereign good and my true good. 
 Fair were those pears, but not them did my wretched soul 
 desire ; for I had store of better, and I gathered those 
 only that I might steal. For, when gathe:red, I flung them 
 away, my only feast therein being my own sin, which I. 
 
ST. AUGUSTI^fB. 33 
 
 was pleased to enjoy. For if aught of those pears came 
 within my mouth, what sweetened it was the sin. 
 
 13. And now, O Lord my God, I inquire what in that 
 theft delighted me ; and behold it hath no loveliness ; I 
 mean not such lovteliness as is in justice and wisdom ; nor 
 such as is in the mind and memory, and animal life of 
 man; nor yet as the stars are glorious and beautiful in 
 their orbs ; or the earth, or sea, full of fresh offspring 
 which supplies the place of such as is spent ; nay, nor 
 even that false and shadowy beauty, which belongs gen- 
 erally to vicious actions which deceive us ; as when pride 
 doth imitate exaltedness ; whereas Thou, Alone art God 
 exalted over all. And Ambition seeks honors and glory ; 
 whereas Thou Alone art to be honoured above all, and 
 glorious for evermore. Cruelty would fain be feared ; but 
 none is to be feared but God alone, out of whose power 
 what can be wrested or withdrawn ; when, or where, or 
 whither, or by whom 1 The tendernesses of the wanton 
 would fain'^be counted love : yet is nothing so tender as 
 Thy charity ; nor is aught loved healthfully but Thy 
 truth, bright and beautiful above all. Curiosity makes 
 semblance of a desire of knowledge; but Thou compre- 
 hendest all. Yea, ignorance and foolishness itself is 
 cloaked under the name of sinrplicity and innocency ; yet 
 nothing is found more single than Thee : and what more 
 innocent, all whose works are -opposite to ill 1 Yea, sloth 
 would fain be a kind of rest ; but what rest is there save 
 in the Lord? Luxury a ffects to be called plenty and 
 abundance ; but'' i''Iiouar't the fulness and n ever-faifiiig 
 plenteousness of inc orruptible pleasures, l^rodi gality p re- 
 se nts a sh a dow of liberality ; but Thou art tEe most o ver- 
 flowing driver of all good. Covet ousness would possess 
 m any thi ngs ; and Thou p ossessest all things. Envy wran- 
 gles Tof precedence ; but what can contend with Thee ? 
 Anger seeks revenge ; and who revenges justly but Thou ? 
 Fear startles at things unwonted or sudden, which endan- 
 ger things beloved, and takes forethought for their safety ; 
 but to Thee what is unwonted or sudden, or who can sep- 
 arate from Thee what Thou lovest 1 Or where but with 
 Thee is safety ? Grief pines away for the lost delight of its 
 3 
 
34 CONFESSIpNS OF 
 
 desires ; and wishes, tljat it might not be deprived of any, 
 thing, more than Thou canst be. 
 
 14. Thus doth the soul commit forijication, when she 
 turns from Thee, seeking otherwhere than in Thee, what 
 she findeth not pure a^d untainted, till she returns to 
 Thee. Thus perversely all imitate Thee, who remove far 
 from Thee, and lift themselves up against Thee. But even 
 by thus imitating Thee, they imply Thee to be the Crear 
 tor of all nature ; and that there is no place whither they 
 can retire from Thee. What then did I love in that theft? 
 and wherein did I even corruptly and perversely imitate 
 my Lord ? Did I wish by a kind of sleight, to do contrary 
 to Thy law, because I could not by strong hand ; that 
 whilst I was no better than a bond slave, I might countei>, 
 feit a false liberty, by doing without punishment what I 
 could not do without sin, in a darkened likeness of Thy 
 Omnipotency ? Behold this slave, fleeing from his Lord, 
 and laying hold of a shadow. O rottenness,^ O monstrous- 
 ness of life, and depth of death ! did I like what I ought 
 not, only because I ought not ? 
 
 (VII.] 15. What shall I render unto the Lord, that, 
 whilst my memory recajs these things, ray soul is not 
 affrighted at them ? Make me love Thee, O Lord, and 
 thank. Thee, and confess unto Thy name; because Thou 
 hast forgiven me these great and heinous deeds of mine, 
 and hast melted away my sins as they were ice. To Thy 
 grace I ascribe also whatsoever sins 1 have not committed ; 
 for what might I not have done, who even loved a sin for 
 its own sake 1 Yea, I confess all to have been forgiven 
 me ; both what evils I committed by ray own wilfulness^ 
 and what by thy help I committed not. What man is he, 
 who, weighing his own infirmity, dares to ascribe his chasr 
 tity and innocency to his own strength ; that so he should 
 love Thee the less, as if he less needed Thy mercy, 
 whereby Thou remittest sins to those that turn to Thee 1 
 For whosoever, called by Thee, foUpwed Thy voice, and 
 avoided those things which he finds me remembering and 
 confessing of myself, let him not laugh at me, who, being 
 sick, was cured by that Physician, through Whose' aid 
 it was that he is not sick at all, or rather is less sick; 
 but let him love Thee as much as I do, yea, and more ; 
 
ST. AUGtoSTlNE. 35 
 
 since he sees me to "have been recovered from such deep 
 consumption of sin, by Him who preserved him from the 
 like consumption of sin. 
 
 [VIII.] 16. And what fruit had I even from those 
 things, of the remembrance whereof I am now ashamed f 
 Especially from that theft which I loved for the theft's 
 Sake ; it was nothing, and therefore the more miserable 
 was I, who loved it. AJojip P had nof done it : such as 
 I was then, I remember ; alone I had never done it. I 
 loved in it the company of the accomplices, with whom I 
 did it? I did then love something else but the theft? 
 Nay I did love nothing else ; for that circumstance of the 
 company was also nothing. Who can teach me the truth, 
 save He that enlighteneth my heart, and discovereth its 
 dark corners ? What is this which I take in hand to in- 
 quire, and discuss, and consider ? For had I loved the 
 pears I stole, and wished to enjoy them, I might have done 
 it aloffe, had the bare commission of the theft sufficed 
 to attain my pleasure ; nor needed I have inflamed the 
 itching of my desires, by the excitement of accomplices. 
 But since my pleasure was not in those pears, it was in 
 the offence itself, to which the company of fellow-sinners 
 did concur. 
 
 [IX.] 17. What then was this feeling ? Of a truth it 
 was foul : and woe was me, who had it ; but yet what was 
 it? Who can understand his errors ? It was the sport, 
 which, as- it were, tickled our hearts, in that we deceived 
 those who little thought what we were doing, and would 
 have disliked it. Why then was my delight of such sort, 
 that I did it not alone 1 Because none doth ordinarily 
 laugh alone 1 ordinarily no one ; yet laughter sometimes 
 masters men alone and singly when no one whatever is 
 with them, if any thing very ludicrous presents itself to 
 their senses or mind. But I had not done this alone ; 
 alone, I had never, never done it. Behold, my God, be- 
 fore Thee, the vivid remembrance of my soul ; alone, I 
 had never committed that theft ; for what I stole pleased 
 me not. O friendship, thou art too unfriendly ! thou inr 
 comprehensible seducer of the soul ; out of mirth and 
 wantonness grows desire to do others hurt, without lust 
 
rfO CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 of our own gain or revenge : but when it is said, " Let 's 
 go, let 's do it," we are ashamed not to be shameless. 
 
 [X.] 18. Who can disentangle that twisted and intri- 
 cate knottiness of my soul ? Foul is it : I hate to think 
 on it, to look on it. But Thee I long for, O Righteous^ 
 ness and Innocency, beautiful and comely to all pure eyes, 
 and of a satisfaction unsating. With Thee is rest entire, 
 and life imperturable. He that enters into Thee, enters 
 into the joy of his Lord: and shall not fear, and shall 
 do excellently in the All-Excellent. I sank away from 
 Thee, and I wandered, O my God, too much astray from 
 Thee my stay, in these days of my youth, and I became 
 tomyself a barren land. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 37 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK. 
 
 Sis tesidonce at Carthage from his seventeenth to bis oioetcentb year. Soulrco 
 of his disorders. Love of shows. Advance in studies, and love of vrisdom. 
 Distaste for Scripture. Led astray to the Manicheans. Refutation of some 
 of their tenets. Grief of his mother Monnica at his heresy, and prayers for his 
 cOQversioH. Her vision from God, and answer through a Bishop. 
 
 [1.] 1. To Carthage I came, where there sang all 
 around roe in my ears a cauldron of unholy loves. I 
 loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated 
 poverty, I hated myself for not being poor enough. 1 
 sought what I might love, in love with loving, and I hated 
 a safe way without snares. For my soul was famished of 
 Ihat inward foodj Thyself, O my God ; yet through that 
 famine I was not hungered, but was without all longing 
 for incorruptible sustenance, not becanse I was filled 
 therewith ; the more I was empty, the more I loathed it. 
 For this cause my soul was sickly and full of sores, it 
 miserably cast itself forth, desiring to be eased by the 
 touch of sensible creatures, which, if they had not life, 
 would not be objects of love. To love then, and to be 
 beloved, was sweet to me : but more, when I obtained to 
 enjoy the person I loved. I troubled, therefore, the wa- 
 ters of friendship with mine unclean appetite, and I be- 
 clouded its brightness with the liell of lustfulness ; and 
 thus ugly and unclean, I would fain, through exceeding 
 vanity, be fine and courtly. I fell headlong then into the 
 love, wherein I longed to be ensnared. my God, my 
 Mercy, with how much gall didst Thou, out of Thy great 
 goodness, besprinkle for me that sweetness 1 For I was 
 both beloved, and secretly arrived at the bond of enjoy- 
 ing; and with joy was fettered with sorrow-bringing 
 bonds, that I might be scourged with the burning rods of 
 jealousy, and suspicions, and fears, and angers, and quar- 
 rels. 
 
 [II.] 2. Stage-plays also carried me away, full of im- 
 ages of my miseries, and of fuel to my fire. Why is it, 
 that man -desires to be made sad, beholding doleful and 
 3* 
 
38 CONFESSIONS . OF 
 
 tragical things, which yet himself would by no means 
 suffer? yet he desires as a spectator to feel sorrow at 
 them, and this very sorrow in his pleasure. What is this 
 but a miserable madness? for they are most affected with 
 these actions, who are moat free from such affections. 
 When a man suffers in his own person, it is styled misery : 
 when he hath fellow-suffering, then it is mercy. But 
 what sort of compassion is this for feigned and scenical 
 passions? for the auditor is not called on to relieve, but 
 only to grieve : and he applauds the actor of these fictions 
 the more, the more he grieves. And if the calamities of 
 those persons (whether of old times, or mere fiction) be 
 so acted, that the spectator is not moVed to tears, he goes 
 away disgusted and criticising ; but if he be moved to 
 passion, he stays intent, and weeps for joy. 
 
 3. Are griefs then too loved ? Verily all desire joy. 
 Truly no man likes to be miserable, but he is pleased to 
 be merciful, which, because it cannot be without sorrow, 
 for this reason alone is sorrow loved? This also springs 
 from the vein of friendship. But whither goes that vein ? 
 whither flows it? wherefore runs it into that torrent of 
 pitch bubbling forth those monstrous tides of foul lustful- 
 ness, into which it is wilfully changed and transformed, 
 being of its own will precipitated and corrupted from its 
 heavenly clearness ? Shall compassion then be put away ? 
 by no means. Let us rather be content to love grief 
 sometimes. But beware of uncleanness, O my soul, un- 
 der the guardianship of my God, the God of our fathers, 
 who is to be praised and exalted above all for ever, beware 
 of uncleanness. For I do not take myself to be without 
 pity ; but then in the theatres 1 rejoiced with lovers, 
 when they wickedly enjoyed one another, although this 
 was imaginary only in the play. And when they lost one 
 another, as if very compassionate, I sorrowed with them, 
 yet had my delight in both. But now 1 much more pity 
 him that rejoiceth in his wickedness, than him who is 
 thought to suffer hardship, by missing some pernicious 
 pleasure, and the loss of some miserable felicity. This 
 certainly is the truer mercy, but in this a man takes his 
 pleasure. For though he may be confessed to be char- 
 itable who is sorry for a man in misery, yet he who is 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 39 
 
 genuinely compassionate, had rather there were notliing 
 for him to grieve for. Some sorrow may then be allowed, 
 but none loved. Thus dost Thou, O Lord God, who 
 lovest souls far more purely than we, have purer pity on 
 them, in that thou art wounded with no sorrowfulness. 
 But what man is able to arrive at this? 
 
 4. But I, miserable, then loved to grieve, and sought 
 out what to grieve at ; and that acting best pleased me, 
 and attracted me the most vehemently, which drew tears 
 from me. And what marvel was it, that, a forlorn sheep, 
 straying from Thy flock, and impatient of Thy keeping, 
 I became infected with disease ? And hence the love of 
 griefs ; not such as should sink deep into me ; for I loved 
 not to suffer what I loved to look on ; but such as should 
 lightly scratch the surface; upon which followed inflam- 
 ed swelling, impostumes, and a putrified sore. My life 
 being such, was it life, O my God ? 
 
 [HI.] 5. Among such things as these, in that unsettled 
 age of mine, learned I books of eloquence, wherein I de- 
 sired to be eminent out of a damnable and vain glorious 
 end, a joy in human vanity. In the ordinary course of 
 study, I fell upon a certain book of Cicero, whose speech 
 almost all admire, not so his heart. This book of his, 
 contains an exhortation to philosophy, and is . called 
 " Hortensius" But this book altered my affections, and 
 turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord ; and made me 
 have other purposes and desires. Every vain hope at 
 once became worthless to me ; and I longed with an in- 
 credibly burning desire, for an immortality of wisdom 
 and began now to arise, that 1 might return to Thee. 
 For not to sharpen my tongue, (which thing I seemed to 
 be purchasing with my mother's allowances, in my nine- 
 teenth year, my father being dead two years before,) not 
 to sharpen my tongue did I employ that book; nor did it 
 infuse into me its style, but its matter. 
 
 6. How did I burn then, my God, how did I burn to 
 mount up from earthly things to Thee, nor knew I what 
 Thou wouldest do with me. For with Thee is wisdom. 
 But the love of wisdom is in Greek called " philosophy," 
 with vifhich that book inflamed me. Some there be that 
 seduce through philosophy, under a great, and smooth, 
 
40 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 and honorabler name, coloring and disguising their own 
 errors : and almost all who in that and former ages were 
 seducers, are in that book censured and set forth : there 
 also is made plain that wholesome advice of Thy Spirit, 
 by Thy good and devout servant ; Beware kit any man 
 spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the 
 traditions of men, after the rudiments of the world, and 
 not after Christ. For in him dwelleth all the fulness of 
 the Godhead bodily. Now, at that time, as Thou, O light 
 of my heart knowest. Apostolic Scripture was not known 
 to me, and I was delighted with Cicero's exhortation, so 
 far that I was thereby strongly roused, and kindled, and 
 inflamed to love, seek, obtain, hold, and embrace not this 
 or that sect, but wisdom itself wherever it were ; and this 
 alone checked me thus enkindled, that the name of Christ 
 was not in it. For this name, according to Thy mercy, 
 
 Lord, this name of my Savior Thy Son, had my ten- 
 der heart, even with my mother's milk, devoutly drunk 
 in, and deeply treasured ; and whatsoever was without 
 that name, though never so learned, polished, or true, 
 took not entire hold of me. 
 
 [IV.] 7. I resolved then to bend my mind to the holy 
 Scriptures, that I might see what they were. But behold) 
 
 1 see a thing not understood by the proud, nor laid open- 
 to the ignorant, but humble in show, sublime in opera- 
 tion, and veiled with mysteries ; and I was not such as 
 could enter into it, or submit myself to that kind of pace. 
 For not as I now speak, did I feel when I turned to those 
 Scriptures ; but they seemed to me unworthy to be com- 
 pared to the stateliness of TuUy : for my swelling pride , 
 shrunk from their lowliness, nor could my sharp wit 
 pierce the sense thereof Yet were they such as would 
 grow up in a little one. But I disdained to be a little 
 one ; and swoln with pride, took myself to be a great 
 one. 
 
 [v.] 8, Therefore I fell among men proudly doting, 
 exceeding carnal and- prating, in whose mouths were the 
 snares of the Devil, limed with the mixture of the sylla- 
 bles of Thy name, and of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of 
 the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete, our Comforter. These 
 names were frequent in their mouth, so far forth as the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 41 
 
 sound and the noise of the tongue went, but their heart 
 was void of truth. Yet they cried out " Truth, Truth," 
 and spake much thereof to me, though it was not in them : 
 and they spake falsehood, not of Thee only, (who truly 
 art Truth,) but even of those elements of this world, Thy 
 creatures. And I indeed ought to have transcended even 
 the philosophers who spake truth concerning them, by my 
 love of Thee, my Father, supremely good. Beauty of all 
 things beautiful. 
 
 9. O Truth, Truth, how inwardly did even then the 
 marrow of my soul pant after Thee, when they often and 
 diversly, and in many and huge books, echoed of Thee to 
 me, though it was but an echo 1 And these were the 
 dishes wherein to me, hungering after Thee, they, instead 
 of Thee, served up the Sun and Moon, beautiful works 
 of Thine, but yet Thy works, not Thyself, no nor Thy 
 first works. For Thy spiritual works are before these 
 corporeal works, celestial though these be, and shining. 
 But now I hungered and thirsted not even after those 
 first works of Thine, but after Thee Thyself, the Truth, 
 in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning : 
 and they still set before me in those dishes, glittering 
 fantasies. Better were it to love the very sun, (which is 
 real to our sight at least,) than those fantasies which by 
 our eyes deceive our mind. Yet because I thought them 
 to be Thee, I fed thereon ; not eagerly, for Thou didst 
 not taste to me in them as Thou art ; for Thou wast not 
 in these fictions, nor was 1 nourished by them, but ex- 
 hausted rather. Food in sleep shows very like our food i 
 awake ; yet are not those asleep nourished by it, because 
 they are asleep j and those fancies were not any way 
 like to Thee, as Thou hast since revealed Thyself to me ; 
 for those were corporeal fantasies, false bodies, than 
 which are far more certain these true bodies, celestial or ' 
 terrestrial, which with our fleshy sight we behold : these 
 things the beasts and birds discern as well as we, and 
 they are more certain than when we fancy them. But 
 we fancy them more truly than we conjecture other vaster 
 and infinite bodies which have no being. Such empty 
 husks was I then fed on ; saving that I was not fed. But 
 Thou, my soul's Love, towards whom I languish, that I 
 
42 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 may gather strength, art neither those bodies which we 
 see, though in heaven ; nor those which we do not see : 
 for Thou has created them, and Thou canst create nobler 
 than they. How far then art Thou from those fantasies 
 of mine, fantasies of bodies which are not at all ; than 
 which the images of those bodies which are, are far more 
 certain ; and more certain still the bodies themselves, 
 which yet Thou art not ; no, nor yet the soul, which is 
 the life of bodies. Better and more certain is the life of 
 the bodies, than the bodies ; but Thou art the life of 
 lives, having life in Thyself; and Thou changest not, O 
 life of my soul ! 
 
 10. Where then wert Thou then to me, and how far 
 from me? Far was I straying from Thee, barred from 
 the very hiisks of the swine, whom with husks I fed. 
 For how much better are the fables of poets and gram- 
 marians, than these snares? For verses, and poems, and 
 " Medea flying," are more profitable, truly, than men's 
 five elem'ents, variously disguised, answering to five dens 
 of darkness, which have no being, yet slay the believer. 
 For verses and poems I can turn to true food, and 
 " Medea flying," though I did sing, I maintained not; 
 though I heard it sung, I believed not : but these things 
 I did believe. 
 
 11. Woe, woe, by what steps was I brought down to 
 the depths of hell! toiling and turmoil ing through want 
 of Truth ! For I sought after Thee, my God, (to Thee 
 I confess it, who hadst mercy on me before I confessed,) 
 not according to the understanding of the mind, wherein 
 Thou willedst that I should excel the beasts, biit accord- 
 ing to the sense of the flesh. But Thou wert more in- 
 ward to me, than my most inward part; and higher than 
 my highest. I lighted upon that bold woman, simple and 
 knoweth nothing, shadowed out in Solomon, sitting at the 
 door, and saying. Eat ye bread of secrecies willingly, 
 and drink ye stolen waters which are sweet ; she seduced 
 me, because she found my soul dwelling abroad in the 
 eye of my flesh, and ruminating on such food, as througK 
 it I had devoured. •■ 
 
 [VII.] 12. For other than this, that which really is I 
 knew not; and was, as it were through sharpness of wit, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE-, 43 
 
 persuaded to assent to foolish deceivers, when they asked 
 me, " whence is evil ?" " is God bounded by a bodily 
 shape, and has hairs and nails?" " are they to be esteem- 
 ed righteous, who had many wives at once, and did kill 
 men, and sacrifice living creatures ? At which I, in my 
 ignorance, was much troubled, and departing from the 
 truth, seemed to myself to be making towards it; because 
 as yet I knew not that evil was nothing but a.privation of 
 good, until at last a thing ceases altogether to be; which 
 how should I see, the sight of whose eyes reached only to 
 bodies, and of whose mind to a phantasm ? And I knew 
 not God to he a Spirit, and not One who hath parts ex- 
 tended in length and breadth, or whose being was bulk ; 
 for every bulk is less in a part, than in the whole : and if 
 it be infinite, it must be less in such part as is defined by 
 a certaifi space, than in its infinitude ; and so is not 
 wholly every vyhere, as Spirit, as God. And what that 
 in us is, by which we are like to God, and in Scripture 
 are rightly said to be after the Image of God, I was alto- 
 gether ignorant. 
 
 (3. Nor knew I that true inward righteousness, which 
 judgeth not according to custoin, but out of the most 
 rightful law of God Almighty, whereby the ways of places 
 and, times were disposed, according to those times and 
 places; itself mean time being the same always and every 
 where, not one thing in one place, and another in another ; 
 according to which Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and 
 Moses, and David, were righteous ; but were judged un- 
 righteous by silly men, judging out of man's jiidgmentf 
 and measuring by their own petty habits, the moral habits 
 of the jyhole human race. As if in an armory, one, igno- 
 rant what were adapted to each part, should cover his head 
 with greaves, or, seek to be shod with a helmet, and com- 
 plain that they fitted pot ; or as if on a day, when busi- 
 ness is publicly stopped in the afternoon, one were angered 
 at not being allowed to keep open sliop ; or when in one 
 house he observeth some servant taking a thing in his 
 hand, which the butler is not sufiered to meddle with ; or 
 something permitted out of doors, which is forbidden in 
 the dining-room ; and should be angry, that in one house, 
 and one family, the same thing is not ajlotted, every vvhere, 
 
44 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 and to all. Even such are they, who are fretted to hear 
 that something was lawful for righteous men formerly, 
 which is not lawful now ; or that God, for certain tempo- 
 ral respects, commanded some one thing, and some 
 another, while both obeyed the same righteousness : 
 whereas they see, in one man, and one day, and one 
 house, different things to be fit for different members, and 
 a thing formerly lawful, after a certain time not so ; in 
 one corner permitted or commanded, but in another 
 rightly forbidden and punished. Is justice therefore vari- 
 ous or mutable? No, but the times, over which it pre- 
 sides, flow not evenly, because they are times. Men, 
 whose days are few upon the earth, by their senses can- 
 not harmonize the causes of things in former ages and 
 other nations, which they have had no experience of, with 
 those which they have experience of; whereas, in one and 
 the same body, day, or family, they easily see what is fit- 
 ting for each member, and season, part, and person ; to 
 the one they take exceptions, to the other they submit. 
 
 14. These things I then knew not, nor observed ; they 
 struck my sight on all sides, but I saw them not. J in- 
 dited verses, in which I might not place every foot every 
 where, but differently in different metres ; nor even in 
 any one metre the self-same foot in all places. Yet the 
 art itself, by which I indited, had not different principles 
 for these different cases, but comprised all in one. Still 
 I saw not how that righteousness, which good and holy 
 men obeyed, did far more excellently and sublimely con- 
 tain in one all those things which God commanded, and 
 in no part varied ; although in varying times it prescribed 
 not every thing at once, but apportioned and enjoined 
 what was fit for each. And I, in my blindness, censured 
 the holy Fathers, not only wherein they made use of 
 things present as God comihanded and inspired them, but 
 also wherein they were foretelling things to come, as God 
 was revealing in them. 
 
 [VIII.]. 15. Can it at any time or place be ujnjust to Imt 
 God with all his heart, with all Ms soul, and with all his 
 mind; and his neighbor as himself? Therefore are those 
 foul offences which be against nature, to be every where 
 and at all times detested and punished ; such as those of 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 45 
 
 the men of Sodom : which, should all nations commit, 
 they would all stand guilty of the same crime, by the law 
 of God, who hath not made men that they should so abuse 
 one another. For even that intercourse which should be 
 between God and us is violated, when that same nature, 
 of which He is Author, is polluted by the perversity of 
 lust. But those actions which are against the customs of 
 men, are to be avoided according to the customs severally 
 prevailing ; so that a thing agreed upon and confirmed, 
 by custom or law of any city or nation, may not be vio- 
 lated at the lawless pleasure of any, whether native or 
 foreigner. For any part, which harmonizeth not with its 
 whole, is offensive. But when God commands a thing to 
 be done, against the customs or compact of any people, 
 though it were never done by them heretofore, it is to be 
 done ; and if intermitted, it is to be restored ; and if never 
 ordained, is now to be ordained. For if it be lawful for 
 a king, in thfr state which he reigns over, to command 
 what no one before him, nor he himself heretofore, had 
 commanded ; and if to obey him cannot be against the 
 common weal of the state ; (nay, it were against it if he 
 were not obeyed, for to obey princes is a general compact 
 of human society ;) how much more unhesitatingly ought 
 we to obey God, in all which He commands, the Ruler of 
 alt His creatures ! For as among the powers in man's 
 society, the greater authority is obeyed in preference to 
 the lesser, so must God be above all. 
 
 16. These be the heads of iniquity, which spring from 
 the lust of the flesh, of the eye, or of rule, either singly, 
 or two combined, or all together; and so do men live 
 ill against the three, and seven, that psaltery of ten 
 strings, Thy Ten Commandments, O God, most high, and 
 most sweet. And what foul offences can there be 
 against Thee, who canst not be defiled 1 or what acts 
 ef violence against Thee, who canst not be harmed 1 But 
 Thou avengest what men commit against themselves, for 
 when they sin against Thee, they sin against their own 
 souls, and iniquity gives itself the lie, by corrupting and 
 perverting their nature, which Thou hast created and or- 
 dained ; or by an immoderate Use of things allowed ; or 
 in things unallowed, hy burning to that use which is against 
 4 
 
46 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 nature ; or are found guilty, raging with heart and tongue 
 against Thee, kicking against the pricks ; or when, burst' 
 ing the pale of human society, they boldly joy in self- 
 willed combinations or divisions, according as they have 
 any object to gain or subject of offence. These things 
 are done when Thou art forsaken, O Fountain of Life, 
 who art the only and true Creator and Governor of the 
 Universe, if, by a self-willed pride, some one false thing 
 is selected and loved. So then by a humble devoutness 
 we return to Thee ; and Thou cleansest us from our evil 
 habits, and art merciful to those who confess, and hearest 
 thegroaning of the prisoner, and loosest us from the chains 
 which we made for ourselves, when we no longer lift up 
 against Thee the horns of unreal liberty, by loving more 
 our own private good, than Thee, the Good of all. 
 
 [IX.] 17. And there are some actions resembling of- 
 fences of foulness or violence, which yet are no sins ; 
 because they offend neither Thee, our Lord God, nor hu- 
 man society ; as when, things fitting for a given period 
 are obtained for the service of life, and we know not 
 whether out of a lust of having ; or when things are, for 
 the sake of correction, by constituted authority punished, 
 and we know not whether out of a lust of hurting. Many 
 an action also which in men's sight is disapproved, is by 
 Thy testimony approved : and many, by men praised, are 
 (Thou being witness) condemned : because the appear- 
 ance of the action, and the mind of the doer, and the un- 
 known exigency of the period, vary. But when Thou on 
 a sudden coniraandest an unwonted and an unthought-of 
 thing, yea, although Thou hast sometime forbidden it, 
 and still for the time hidest the reason of Thy command, 
 and it be against the ordinance of some society of men, 
 who doubts but it is to be done ? But blessed are they 
 who know thy commands. For all things are done by 
 Thy servants ; either to show forth something needful for 
 the present, or to foreshow things to come. 
 
 [X.] 18. These things I being ignorant of, scoffed at 
 those Thy holy servants and prophets. And what gained 
 I by scoffing at them, but to be scoffed at by Thee, being 
 insensibly and step by step drawn on to such follies, as to 
 believe that a fig-tree wept when it was plucked, and the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 47 
 
 tree, its mother, shed milky tears? Which fig, notwith- 
 standing, (plucked by some other's, not his own, guilt,) 
 had .some (Manichsean) saint eaten, and mingled with, his 
 bowels, he should breathe out of it angels, yea, there 
 shall burst forth particles of divinity, at every moan or 
 groan in his prayer, which particles of the most High and 
 true God had remained bound in that fig, unless they had 
 been set at liberty by the teeth or belly of some " Elect" 
 saint ! And I, miserable, believed that more mercy was 
 to be shown to the fruits of the earth, than to men, for 
 whom they were created. For if any one an hungered, 
 not a Manichaean, should ask for any, that morsel would 
 seem as it were condemned to capital punishment, which 
 •should be given him. 
 
 [XI.] 19. And Thou sentest Thine hand from -above, 
 and drewest my soul out of that profound darkness ; my 
 mother. Thy faithful one, weeping to Thee for me, more 
 than mothers weep the bodily deaths of their children. 
 For she, by that faith and spirit which she had from Thee, 
 discerned the death wherein I lay, and Thou heardest 
 her, O Lord ; Thou heardest her, and didst not despise 
 her tears, which, streaming down, watered the ground 
 under her eyes in every place where she prayed ; yea, 
 Tliou heardest her. For whence was that dream whereby 
 Thou comfortedst her ; so that she allowed me to live with 
 her, and to eat at the same table in the house, which she 
 had begun to refuse, abhorring and detesting the blasphe- 
 ii.ies of my error 1 She saw herself standing on a cer- 
 tain wooden rule, and a shining youth coming towards 
 her, cheerful and smiling upon her, who was sad, and 
 overwhelmed with grief- But he having (in order to in- 
 struct, as is their wont, not to be instructed) inquired of 
 her the causes of her grief and daily tears, and she an- 
 swering that she was bewailing my perdition, he bade her 
 rest contented, and told her to look and observe, " That 
 where she was, there was I also." And when she looked, 
 she saw me standing by her on the same Rule. Whence 
 was this, but that Thine ears were towards her heart ? O 
 Thou Good omnipotent, who so carest for every one of us, 
 as if Thou caredst for him alone ; and so for all, as if all 
 were but one ! 
 
48 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 20. Whence was this, also, that when she had told me 
 this vision, and I would fain bend it to mean, " That she 
 rather should not despair of being one day what I was;" 
 she presently, without any hesitation, replies, " No ; for 
 it was not told me that, ' where he, there thou also ;' but 
 ' where thou, there he also V " I confess to Thee, O 
 Lord, that to the best of my remembrance, (and I have 
 oft spoken of this,) that Thy answer, through my waking 
 mother — in that she was not perplexed by the plausibility, 
 of my false interpretation, and so quickly saw what was 
 to be seen, and which I certainly had not perceived, be- 
 fore she spake — even then moved me more than the dream 
 itself, whereby the joy of that holy woman, to be fulfilled 
 so long after, was foretold, for the consolation of her pre- 
 sent anguish. For almost nine years passed, in which I 
 wallowed in the mire of that deep pit, and the darkness 
 of falsehood, often assaying to rise, but dashed down the 
 more grievously. All which time, that chaste, godly, and 
 sober widow, (such as Thou lovest,) now cheered with 
 hope, yet no whit relaxing in her weeping and mourning, 
 ceased not at all hours of her devotion to bewail my case 
 unto Thee. And hex prayers entered into Thy presence ; 
 and yet Thou suflferest me to be wrapped up still more in 
 that darkness. 
 
 [XII.] 21. Thou gavest her meantime another answer, 
 which I call to mind ; for I pass by much, to confess those 
 things which are most important, and much I do not re- 
 member. Thou gavest her then another answer, by a 
 Priest of Thine, a certain Bishop brought up in Thy 
 Church, and well studied in Thy books. She entreated 
 him to converse with me, refute my errors, and teach me 
 good things ; (for this he was wont to do, when he found 
 persons fitted to receive it;) he refused, wisely, as I after- 
 wards perceived ; and he answered that I was yetunteach- 
 able, being puifed up with the novelty of that heresy, and 
 had already perplexed divers unskillful persons with cap- 
 tious questions, as she had told him : " but let him alone 
 awhile," saith he ; " only pray God foi; him, he will of 
 himself by reading find what that error is, and how great 
 its impiety." At the same time he told her how he him- 
 self, when a little one, had been consigned over to the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 49 
 
 Manichees, by his mother, and had not only read, but 
 frequently copied out almost all their books. But without 
 any argument or proof from any one, he saw how much 
 that sect was to be avoided ; and he did avoid it. And 
 when she would not be satisfied, but urged him more, with 
 entreaties and many tefars, that he would see me, and dis- 
 course with me, a littledispleased at her importunity, he 
 said, " Go thy ways, and God bless thee, for it is not pos- 
 sible that the son of these tears should perish." Which 
 answer she took (as she often mentioned in her conversa- 
 tions with me) as if it had sounded from heaven. 
 
 4* 
 
50 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's Life from nineteen to eight and twenty. 
 
 [I.] 1. For this space of nine years then (from my 
 nineteenth year, to my eight and twentieth,) I lived seduc- 
 ed and seducing, deceived and deceiving, in divers lusts ; 
 openly, by sciences which they call liberal ; secretly, with 
 a false named religion ; here proud, there superstitious, 
 every where vain ! Here, hunting after the emptiness of 
 popular praise, down even to theatrical applauses, and 
 poetic prizes, and strifes for grassy garlands, and the fol- 
 lies of shows, and the intemperance of desires. There, 
 desiring to be cleansed from these defilements, by carry- 
 ing food to those who were called "elect" and "holy," 
 out of which, in the workhouse of their stomachs, they 
 should forge for us Angels and Gods, by whom we might 
 be cleansed. These things did I follow, and practise 
 with my friends, deceived by me, and with me. Let the 
 arrogant mock me, and such as have not been stricken 
 and cast down by Thee, O my God ; but I would still 
 confess to Thee mine own shame in Thy praise. Suffer 
 me, I beseech Thee, and give me grace to go over in my 
 present remembrance the wanderings of my forepast time, 
 and to offer unto Thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving. For 
 without Thee, what am I to myself, but a guide to mine 
 own downfall ? or what am I even at the best, but an in- 
 fant sucking the milk Thou gavest, and feeding upon 
 Thee, O food that perisheth not? But what sort of man 
 is any man, seeing he is but a man ? Let now the strong 
 and the mighty laugh at me, poor and needy ; I will con- 
 fess unto Thee. 
 
 [II.] 2. In those years I taught rhetoric, and, overcome 
 by cupidity, made sale of loquacity. Yet I preferred 
 (Lord, Thou knowest) honest scholars, (as they are ac- 
 counted,) and without artifice, I taught them artifices, not 
 to be practised against the life of the guiltless, though 
 sometimes for the life of the guilty. And Thou, O God, 
 from afar perceivedst me stumbling in that slippery course, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 51 
 
 amid much smoke sending out some sparks of faithful- 
 ness, which I showed in my guidance of such as loved 
 vanity, and sought after leasing, myself their companion. 
 In those years I. had one, whom I had found out in a way- 
 ward passion, and remaining faithful to her, in my own 
 case I experienced what difference there is betwixt the 
 self-restraint of the marriage-covenant, for the sake of 
 issue, and the bargain of a lustful love, where children 
 are born against their parents' will, although, once born, 
 they may constrain love. 
 
 3. I remember, also, that when I had settled to enter 
 the lists for a theatrical prize, some wizard asked me what 
 I would give him to win : but I, detesting and abhorring 
 such foul mysteries, answered, " Though the garland 
 were of imperishable gold, I would not suffer a fly to be 
 killed to gain it." For he would kill some living crea- 
 tures in sacrifice, and by that means induce the devil to 
 favor me. But this ill also I rejected, not out of a pure 
 love for Thee, O God of my heart ; for I knew not how 
 to love Thee, not knowing how to conceive aught beyond 
 a material brightness. And doth not a soul, sighing after 
 such fictions, commit fornication against Thee, trust in 
 things unreal, and feed the wind 1 Still I woijld not have 
 sacrifices offered to devils for me, to whom I was sacri- 
 ficing myself by that superstition. For what else is it to 
 feed the wind, but to feed devils, going astray to become 
 their pleasure and derision ? 
 
 [III.] 4. Those imposters, then, whom they style Math- 
 ematicians, I consulted without scruple; because they 
 seemed to use no sacrifice, nor to pray to any spirit for 
 their divinations : nevertheless. Christian and true piety 
 rejects and condemns their art. For, it is a good thing 
 to eomfess unto Thee, and to say. Have mercy upon me, 
 heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee ; and not to 
 abuse Thy mercy for a license to sin, but to remember 
 the Lord's words. Behold, thou art made whole, sin no 
 more, lest a worse thing come unto thee. All which whole- 
 some advice they labor to destroy, saying, " The cause 
 of thy sin is inevitably determined in heaven ; and " This 
 did Venus, or Saturn, or Mars :" that man, forsooth, flesh 
 and blood, and proud corruption, might be blameless; 
 
52 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 while the Creator and Ordainer of heaven and the stars 
 is to bear the blame. 
 
 5. There was in those days a wise man, very skillful 
 in physic, and renowned, who, with his own pro-consular 
 hand, put the Agonistic garland upon my distempered 
 head, but not as a physician : for this disease Thou only 
 curest, who resistest the proud, and givest grace to the 
 humble. Thou didst speak to me even by tiat old man, 
 to heal my soul. For having become more acquainted 
 with him, and hanging assiduously and fixedly on his 
 speech, (which though in simple terms was vivid, lively, 
 and earnest,), when he had gathered by my discourse, that 
 I was given to the books of nativity-casters, he kindly 
 and fatherly advised me to cast them away, and not fruit- 
 lessly bestow a care and diligence, necessary for useful 
 things, upon these vanities; saying, that he had in his 
 earliest years studied that art, so as to make it the pro- 
 fession by which he should live, and that, as he under- 
 stood Hippocrates, he could soon have understood such a 
 study as this ; and yet he had given it over, and taken to 
 physic, for no other reason, but that he found it utterly 
 false ; and he would not get his living by deluding people. 
 " But thou," saith he, "hast rhetoric to maintain thyself 
 by, so that thou followest this of free choice, not of ne- 
 cessity : the more then oughtest thou to give me credit 
 herein, who labored to acquire it so perfectly, as to get my 
 living by it alone." Of whom when I had demanded, 
 how then^could many true things be foretold by it, he an- 
 swered me (as he could) "that the force of chance, dif- 
 fused throughout the whole order of things, brought this 
 about. For if when a man by haphazard opens the 
 pages of some poet, who sang and thought of something 
 wholly different, a verse oftentimes fell out, wonderously 
 agreeable to the present business : it were not to be won- 
 dered at, if out of the soul of man, unconscious what 
 takes place in it, by some higher instinct an answer should 
 be given, by hap, not by art, corresponding to the busi- 
 ness and actions of the demander." 
 
 6. And thus much, either from or through him, Thou 
 conveyedst to me, and tracedst in my memory, that I 
 might hereafter examine for myself. But at that time 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 53 
 
 neither he, nor my dearest Nebridius, a youth singularly 
 good and of a holy fear, who derided the whole body of 
 divination, could persuade me to cast it aside, the authori- 
 ty of the authors swaying me yet more, and as yet I had 
 found no certain proof (such as I sought) whereby it might 
 without all doubt appear, that what had been truly fore- 
 told by those consulted was the result of haphazard, not 
 of the art of the star-gazers. 
 
 [IV.] 7. In those years when I first began to teach 
 rhetoric in my native town, I found a friend growing 
 freshly up with me, in the same bud of youth, whom a 
 community of studies made extremely dear to me. He 
 had grown up of a child with me, and together we went 
 to school and to play. But he was not yet my friend as 
 afterwards, nor even then, as true friendship is ; for none 
 is true but that which Thou cementest together, between 
 such as cleave unto Thee through the love wliich is shed 
 abroad in our liemrts by the Holy Ghost, which is given 
 unto us. Yet was it but too sweet, ripened by the warmth 
 of kindred studies : for, from the true faith, (which he as a 
 youth- had not soundly and thoroughly imbibed,) I had 
 warped him also to those superstitious and pernicious 
 fables, for which my mother bewailed me. With me he 
 now erred in mind, nor could my soul be without him. 
 But behold Thou wert close on the steps of Thy fugitives, 
 at once God of vengeance, and Fountain of mercies, 
 turning us to Thyself by wonderful means ; Thou tookest 
 that man out of this life, when he had scarce filled up one 
 whole year of my friendship, sweet to me above all 
 sweetness of my life. 
 
 8. Who can sing all thp praises, which thou hast deserved 
 even in his one self? What didst Thou then, my God, 
 and hqw unsearchable is the ajbyss of Thy judgments 1 
 For long, sore sick of a fever, he lay senseless in a death- 
 sweat ; and his recovery being despaired of, he was 
 baptized, unconscious, myself meanwhile little regarding, 
 and presuming that his soul would retain rather what it 
 had received of me, than y?hat was wrought on his un- 
 conscious body. But it proved far otherwise : for he was 
 refreshed, and -restored. Forthwith, as soon as I could 
 speak with him, (and 1 could, so soon as he was able, for 
 
64 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 I never left him, and we hung but too much upon each 
 other,) I essayed to jest with him, as though he would 
 jest with me at that baptism which he had received, when 
 Utterly absent in mind and feeling. But he shrunk from 
 me, as from an enemy ; and with a wonderful and sudden 
 freedom bade me, as I would continue his friend, forbear 
 such language to him. ' I, all astonished and amazed, 
 suppressed all my emotions till he should grow well, and 
 his health were strong enough for me to deal with him as 
 I would. But he was taken away from my phrensy, that 
 with Thee he might be preserved for my comfort ; a few 
 days after, in my absence, he was attacked again by the 
 fever, and so departed. 
 
 9. At this grief my heart was utterly darkened ; and 
 whatever I beheld was death. My native country was a 
 torment to me, and my father's house a strange unhappi- 
 ness ; and whatever I had shared with him became a 
 distracting torture. Mine eyes sought him every where, 
 but found him not ; and I hated all places, because they 
 held him not ; nor could they now tell me " he is com- 
 ing," as when he was alive and absent. I became a great 
 riddle to myself, and I asked my soul, why she was so sad, 
 and why she disquieted me sorely ; but she knew not what 
 to answer me. And if I said. Trust in God, she very 
 rightly obeyed me not ; because that most dear friend, 
 whom she had lost, being a man, was both truer and bet- 
 ter, than that phantasm she was bid to trust in. Only 
 tecrs were sweet to me, and they succeeded my friend, in 
 the dearest of my affections. 
 
 [V.] 10. And now, Lord, these things are passed by, 
 and time hath assuaged my wound. May I learn from 
 Thee, who art Truth, and approach the ear of my heart 
 unto Thy mouth, that Thou mayest tell me why weeping 
 is sweet to the miserable? Hast Thou, although present 
 every where, cast away our misery far from Thee ? And 
 dost Thou abide in Thyself, but we are tossed about to 
 divers conclusions. And yet unless we complained in 
 Thine ears, we should have no hope left.' How then is 
 sweet fruit gathered from the bitterness of life, from 
 groaning, tears, sighs, and complaints? Doth this 
 sweeten it, that we hope Thou hearest ? This is true of 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 5(5 
 
 prayer, for therein is a longing to approach unto Thee. 
 But was it so in my grief for my friend lost, and the sor- 
 row wherewith I was then overwhelmed ? For I neither 
 hoped he should return to life, nor did I desire this with 
 my tears. I wept and grieved because I was miserable, 
 and had lost my joy. Or is weeping bitter when we have 
 the things which we enjoy, but grow delightful when we 
 lose them 1 
 
 [VI.] 11. But why speak I of these things? for now 
 is no time to question, but to confess unto Thee. Wretched 
 I was ; and wretched is every soul, bound by friendship to 
 mortal things ; he is torn asunder when he loses them, 
 and feels the wretchedness which he was subject to ere' 
 yet he lost them. So was it then with me ; I wept most 
 bitterly, and found my repose in bitterness. Thus was I 
 wretched, but that wretched life I held even dearer than 
 my friend. For though I would willingly have changed 
 it, yet was I more unwilling to part with it, than with 
 him, as is related (if not feigned) of Pylades and Orestes, 
 who would gladly have died for each other. But in me 
 there had arisen I know not what feeling, wholly contrary 
 to this, for at once I loathed exceedingly to live, and 
 feared to die. I suppose, the more I loved him, the more 
 did I hate, and fear (as a most cruel enemy) death, which 
 had bereaved me of him : and I imagined it would speed- 
 ily make an end of all men, since it had power over 
 him. Thus was it with me, I remember. Behold my 
 heart, O my God, behold and see into me ; for well I re- 
 member it, O Thou my Hope, who cleansest me from the 
 impurity of such affections, directing mine eyes towards 
 Thee, and plucking my feet out of the snare. For I 
 wondered that others, subject to death, did live, since he 
 whom T loved, as if he should never diej was dead : and 
 I wondered yet more that myself, who was to him a second 
 self, could live, he being dead. Well said one of his 
 friend, " Thou half of my soul :" for I felt that my soul 
 and his soul were " one soul in two bodies :" and there- 
 fore was my life a sorrow to me, because I would not 
 live halved. And therefore perchance I feared to die, 
 lest he whom I so much loved should die wholly. 
 
 [VII.] 13. O madness, which knows not how to love 
 
56 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 men as men ! O foolish man, suffering so impatiently 
 the lot of man. Thus did I fret, siah, weep, go distracted ,' 
 find neither rest nor counsel. I T)ore about a shattered 
 and bleeding soul, yet where to repose it, I found not. 
 Not in calm groves, not in games and music, nor in fra- 
 grant spots, nor in curious banquetings, nor in the pleas- 
 ures of the bed and the couch ; nor (finally) in books or 
 poesy, found I repose. All things looked ghastly, yea, 
 the very light ; whatsoever was not what he was, was re- 
 volting and hateful ; except groaning and tears, in which 
 alone found I a little refreshment; for when my soul 
 retired at all from these, a huge load of misery weighed 
 me down. To Thee, O Lord, it ought to have been, 
 raised, for Thee to lighten ; I knew it ; but I could not 
 do so, for truly, when I thought of Thee, Thou wert not 
 to me any solid or substantial thing. Not Thyself, but a 
 vain imagination and error was my God. If I offered to 
 discharge my load thereon, that it might rest, it found no 
 ground, and came rushing back again on me ; and I had 
 remained to myself a hapless place, where I could nei- 
 ther stay nor hence depart. For whither could my heart 
 flee from my heart ? Whither could I flee from myself? 
 How not follow myself? And yet I fled out of my coun- 
 try, for so would mine eyes look for him, where they were 
 not wont to see him. And thus from Thagaste I came to 
 Carthage. 
 
 [VIII.] 13. Times lose no time ; nor do they roll idly 
 by ; through our senses they work strange operations on 
 the mind. Behold, they went and came day by day, and 
 by coming and going, introduced into my mind other im- 
 aginations, and other remembrances ; and little by little 
 patched me up again with my old kind of delights, unto 
 which my sorrow gave way. And there succeeded, not 
 indeed other griefs, yet the causes of other griefs. For 
 whence had that former grief so easily reached my very 
 inmost soul, but that I had poured out my soul upon the 
 dust, in loving one that must die, as if he would never 
 die ? What restored and refreshed me chiefly, was the 
 solaces of other friends, with whom I had loved him, in- 
 stead of Thee : and this was a kind of fable, and pro- 
 tracted lie, by whose adulterous stimulus, my soul, which 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 57 
 
 iay itching in mine ears, wasdefiled. But that fable would 
 not die, even as my friends died. To talk and jest to- 
 gether ; to do kind offices by turns ; to read together 
 honied books; to play -the fool or be earnest together; to 
 dissent at times, as a man might with his own self; and 
 so season our more frequent consentings ; sometimes to 
 teach, and sometimes Jearn ; to long for the absent with 
 impatience; and welcome the coming with joy: these 
 and the like expressions, proceeding out of the hearts of 
 those that lored and were loved again, by the counte- 
 nance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thousand pleasing ges- 
 tures, were so much fuel to melt our souls together, and 
 out of many make but one. 
 
 [IX.] 14. This is what is loved in friends; and so 
 loved, that a man's conscience condemns itself, if he love 
 not the person that loves, looking for nothing from him 
 but demonstrations of his love. Hence that mourning if 
 one die ; that darkening of sorrows, that steeping of the 
 heart in tears, all sweetness turned to bitterness ; and 
 upon the Joss of the dying, the death of the living. Bles- 
 sed is the man who loveth Thee, and his friend in Thee, 
 and his enemy for Thee. For he only loses none dear to 
 him, to whom all are dear, in Him Who cannot be lost. 
 And who is that but our God, the God that made heaven 
 and earth, and filleth them, even by filling them creating 
 them ? None loseth, but he who leaveth Thee. And who 
 leaveth Thee, whither goeth or whither fleeth he, but from 
 Thee pleased, to Thee displeased ? For doth he not find 
 Thy law in his own punishment ? And Thy law is truth, 
 and truth is Thyself 
 
 [X.] 15. Convert us, O (rod of Hosts, show us Thy 
 countenance, and we shall he whole. For whithersoever 
 the soul of man turns itself, unless towards Thee, it is 
 rivetted upon sorrows, yea, though it is rivetted on things 
 beautiful, which are out of Thee, and out of the soul, and ' 
 yet were not at all, unless they were from Thee. They 
 spring, and fall ; when they spring, they begin as it were 
 to be, and grow towards their perfection ; and perfected, 
 they, wax old and wither. All grow not old, but all 
 wither : the more quickly they grow that they may be, so 
 much the more they haste not to be. This is the law of 
 5 
 
58 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 their nature. Thus much hast Thou allotted them, "be- 
 cause they are portions of things, which exist not all at 
 once, but by passing away and succeeding, complete that 
 universe, whereof they are portions ; even as opr speech 
 is completed by separate signs ; but not unless one word 
 pass away when it hath sounded its part, that another may 
 succeed. Out of all these things let my soul praise Thee, 
 O God, Creator of all; yet let not my soul be rivetted 
 unto these things, through the senses of the body. For 
 they go towards a not-being, rending the soul with pesti- 
 lent longings ; for the soul longs to be, yet loves to repose 
 in what she loves. But in these things it cannot repose ; 
 they abide not, they flee ; and who can follow them with 
 the senses of the flesh? yea, who can grasp them, even 
 when they are hard by? For the sense of the flesh is 
 slow, because it is the sense of the flesh ; and by the flesh 
 is it bounded. It sufiiceth for the end it was made for ; 
 but it sufficeth not to stay things running their course 
 from their appointed starting place to the end appointed. 
 For in Thy Word, by which they are created, they re- 
 ceive their commission, " hence and hitherto." 
 
 [XI.] 16. Be not foolish, O my soul, nor become deaf 
 in the ear of thine heart with the tumult of thy folly. 
 Hearken thou also. The Word Itself calleth thee to re- 
 turn to that place of rest where love is not forsaken, if it 
 forsaketh not to love. Behold, some things pass away, 
 that others may replace them, and so this lower universe 
 be completed by all his parts. But do I ever depart? 
 saith the Word of God. There fix thy dwelling, O my 
 soul, for now thou art tired out with vanities. Entrust 
 to Truth whatsoever thou hast from the Truth, and thou 
 shalt lose nothing ; and thy decay shall bloom again, and 
 all thy diseases he healed, and thy mortal parts be reformed 
 and renewed, and bound around thee. They shall not 
 pluck thee whither themselves descend ; but they shall 
 stand fast, and abide with thee for ever before God, who 
 abideth and standeth fast for ever. 
 
 ] 7. Why then be perverted and follow thy flesh ? Let 
 it be converted and follow thee. Whatever thou hast 
 sense of, is in part true ; but by those parts thou growest 
 ignorant of the whole ; and yet they delight thee. But 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 59 
 
 had the sense of thy flesh a capacity for comprehending 
 the whole, and had it not been justly restricted to a part 
 of the whole, thou wouldest wish that all the parts should 
 pass away, that so the Whole might ravish thee. Even 
 so by the same sense of the flesh thou hearest what is 
 said ; yet wouldest not thou have each^ syllable stay, but 
 fly away, that other syllables may come, and thou hear the 
 whole. And so ever, when any one thing is made up of 
 many, all of which do nQt exist together, collectively they 
 would please more than they do severally, could all be 
 perceived collectively. But better still than the collective 
 whole, is He who made the whole ; He is our God ; He 
 doth not pass away, neither doth aught succeed Him. 
 
 [XII.] 18. If bodies please thee, praise God for them, 
 and dart back thy love upon their Maker ; lest in these 
 things which please thee, thou displease Hiin. If souls 
 please thee, love them in God : for separate they are mu- 
 table, but in Him they are firmly stablished ,• else would 
 they pass, and pass aWay. In Him then be they beloved ; 
 and carry unto Him along with thee what souls thou canst, 
 and say to them, " Him let us love, Him let us love : He 
 made all things, nor did He make them, and so depart, 
 but they are of Him, and in Him, and there He is, where 
 truth is loved. He is within the very heart, yet hath the 
 heart strayed from Him. Go hack into your heart, ye 
 transgressors, and cleave fast to Him that made you. 
 Stand with Him, and ye shall stand fast. Rest in Him, 
 and ye shall be at rest. Whither go ye in rough ways 1 
 Whither go ye 1 The good that you love is from Him ; 
 but it is good and pleasant through reference to Him, and 
 justly shall it be embittered if He be forsaken for it. To 
 what end then do ye still walk these diflicult and toilsome 
 ways ? There is no rest where ye seek it. Seek still 
 what ye seek ; but not there where ye seek it. Ye seek 
 a blessed life in the land of death ; it is not there. For 
 how can a blessed life be where life itself is not ? 
 
 19. Our true Life came down hither, and bore our 
 death, and slew our death, out of the abundance of His 
 own life : and he called as with thunder to return to Him 
 into that secret place whence He came forth to us, through 
 the Virgin's womb, wherein He espoused the human ere- 
 
60 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ation, our mortal flesh, that it might not be for ever mor- 
 tal, and thence like a bridegroom coming out of his cham- 
 ber, rejoicing as a giant to run his course. For He lin- 
 gered not, but ran, calling aloud by words, deeds, death, 
 life, descension, ascensibn ; crying aloud to us to return 
 unto Him. And He departed from our eyes, that we 
 might return into our heart, and there find Ilim. For he 
 departed, and lo, He is here. He would not remain with 
 us, yet left us not ; for He went whither He never had 
 parted, because the world was made by Him ; and in this 
 world He was, and into this world He came to save sinners. 
 Unto Him my soul confesseth, that He may heal it, for 
 it hath sinned against Him. O ye sons of men, how long 
 so slow of heart ? Even now, after the descent of Life to 
 you, will ye not ascend and live 1 But whither ascend ye, 
 when ye are high on your own conceits, and set your 
 mouth against the heavens ? Descend, that ye may as- 
 cend, and ascend to God. For ye have fallen away, by 
 rising against Him." Tell thy friends this, that they may 
 weep in the valley of tears, and carry them up with thee 
 unto God ; for by the instinct of His Spirit thou speakest 
 thus unto them, when thou speakest, burning with the fire 
 of charity. 
 
 [XIII.] 20. These things I then knew not, and I was 
 sinking to the very depths, and to my friends I said, " do we 
 love any thing but the beautiful ? what then is the beauti- 
 ful ? and what is beauty ? What is it that attracts and wins 
 us to the things we love? for unless they wear in them a 
 grace and beauty, they could by no means draw us unto 
 them." And I marked and perceived, that in bodies 
 themselves, there was a beauty from their forming a sort 
 of whole, by apt and mutual correspondence, as of a part 
 of the body with its whole, or a shoe with a foot, and the 
 like. And this consideration sprang up in my mind, out 
 of my inmost heart, and I wrote " on the fair and fit," I 
 think, two or three books. Thou knowest how many, O 
 Lord, for it is gone from me ; I know not how. 
 
 [XIV.] 21. But what moved me, O Lord my God, to 
 dedicate these books unto Hierius, an orator of Rome, 
 whom I knew not by face, but loved for the fame of his 
 learning, which was eminent in him, and some words of 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 61 
 
 his I had heard, which pleased me 1 But he pleased me 
 chiefly, because he pleased others, who highly extolled 
 him, amazed that out of a Syrian, first instructed in Greek 
 eloquence, should afterwards be formed a wonderful Latin 
 orator, and learned philosopher. 
 
 22. For so did I then love men, upon the judgment of 
 men, not upon Thine, O my God, in whom no man is 
 deceived. But yet I loved men not for qualities, like 
 those of a famous charioteer, or fighter with beasts in the 
 theatre, known far and wide by a vulgar popularity, but 
 far otherwise, and earnestly, and so as I would be myself 
 commended. For I would not be commended or loved, 
 as actors are, (though I myself did commend and love 
 them,) but had rather be unknown, than so known ; and 
 even hated, than so loved. How are the impulses to such 
 various and divers kinds of loves laid up in one soul ? 
 Why, since we are equally men, do I love in another, 
 what I should spurn and cast from myself? For it holds 
 not, that as a good horse is loved by him, who would not 
 be that horse, therefore the same may be said of an actor, 
 who shares our nature. Do I then love in a man, what 
 1, who am a man, would hate to be ? Man himself is a 
 great deep, whose hairs Thou alone numberest, O Lord, 
 and they fall not to the ground Without Thee. And yet 
 are the hairs of his head easier to be numbered, than are 
 his feelings, and the beatings of his heart. 
 
 23. But that orator was of that sort whom I loved, as 
 wishing to be myself such ; and I erred through a swell- 
 ing pride, and was tossed about with every wind, but yet 
 was steered by Thee, though very secretly. And how do 
 - I know, and so confidently confess unto Thee, that I loved 
 him more for the sake of his commenders, than for the 
 very things for which he was commended 1 Because, 
 had he been unpraised, and these self-same men had dis- 
 praised him, and with dispraise and contempt told the 
 very same things of him, I had never been so kindled and 
 excited to love him. And yet the things had not been 
 other, nor he himself other ; but only the feelings of the 
 relators. See where the impotent soul lies along, that is 
 not yet stayed up by the solidity of truth ! Just as the 
 galels of tongues blow from the breast of the opinionative, 
 5* 
 
62 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 SO are we carried this way and that, driven forward and 
 backward, and our light is overclouded and the truth un- 
 seen. It was to me a great matter, that my discourse 
 and labors should be known to that man : should he 
 approve, I were the more kindled ; but if he disproved, 
 my empty heart, void of Thy solidity, had been wounded. 
 And yet the "fair and fit," whereon I wrote to him, I 
 dwelt on with pleasure, and surveyed it, and admired it, 
 though none joined therein. 
 
 [XV. [ 24. But I saw not yet, whereon this weighty 
 matter turned in Thy wisdom, O Thou Omnipotent, who 
 doest wonders ; and my mind ranged through corporeal 
 forms; and " fair," I defined and distinguished as so in 
 itself, and "fit," as so in correspondence to some other 
 thing : and this I supported by corporeal examples. And 
 I turned to the nature of the mind, but the false notion 
 which I had of spiritual things, let me not see the truth. 
 Yet the force of truth did of itself flash into mine eyes, 
 and I turned away my panting soul from incorporeal sub- 
 stance to lineaments, and colors, and bulky magnitudes. 
 And not being able to see these in the mind, I thought I 
 could not see my mind. And whereas in virtue I loved 
 peace, and in viciousness I abhorred discord ; in the first 
 I observed an unity, but in the other, a sort of division. 
 And in that unity, I conceived the rational soul, and the 
 nature of truth, and of the chief good to consist : but in 
 this division I miserably imagined there was some un- 
 known substance of irrational life, and the nature of the 
 chief evil, which should not only be a substance, but real 
 life also, and yet not derived from Thee, O my God, of 
 whom are all things. And yet that first I called a Monad, 
 as it had been a soul without sex;* but the latter aDuad; 
 — anger, in deeds of violence, and in flagitiousness, lust; 
 not knowing whereof I spake. For I had not known or 
 learned, that neither was evil a substance, nor our soul 
 that chief and unchangeable good. 
 
 * Or " an unintelligent Boul; very good MSS. reading " gensu," the majority, 
 it appears " sexu ■," if we read "sexu," the absolute unity of the first principle, 
 or Monad, may be insisted upon, and in the inferior principle, divide into '^ vio- 
 lence" and " lust ;" "violence" as implying strength may be looked on as the 
 male, *' lust" was, in mythology, represented as female ; if we take "sensu," it 
 will express the living, but unintelligent, soul of the world, in the Manicbsan, 
 as a Pantheistic, system. 
 
BT. AUGUSTINE, 63 
 
 25. For as deeds of violence arise, if that emotion of 
 the soul be corrupted, whence vehement action springs, 
 stirring itself insolently and unrulily ; and if lusts arise, 
 when that affection of the soul is ungoverned, whereby 
 carnal pleasures are drunk in, so do errors and false 
 opinions defile the conversation, if the reasonable soul 
 itself be corrupted ; as it was then in me, who knew not 
 that it must be enlightened by another light, that it may 
 be partaker of truth, seeing itself is not that nature of 
 truth. For Thou shalt light my candle, O Lord my God, 
 Thou shalt enlighten my darkness : and of Thy fulness 
 have we all received, for Thou art the true Light that 
 lighteth every man that cometh irito the world ; for in Thee 
 there is no variableness, neither shadow of change. 
 
 26. But I pressed towards Thee, and was thrust from 
 Thee, that I might taste of death : for Thou resisteth the 
 proud. But what prouder, than for me with a strange 
 madness to maintain myself to be that by nature which 
 Thou art ? For whereas I was subject to change, (so 
 much being manifest to me, my very desire to become 
 wise, being the wish, of worse to become better ; ) yet 
 chose I rather to imagine Thee subject to change, than 
 myself not to be that which Thou art. Therefore I was 
 repelled by Thee, and Thou resistedst my vain stiff- 
 nakedness, and I imagined corporeal forms, and — although 
 myself flesh, I accused flesh ; and though I was a wind 
 that passeth away, I returned not to Thee, but I passed 
 on and on to things which have no being, neither in Thee, 
 nor in me, nor in the body. Neither were they created for 
 me by Thy truth, but by my vanity devised out of things 
 corporeal. And I was wont to ask Thy faithful little 
 ones, my fellow-citizens, (from whom, unknown to my- 
 self, I stood exiled,) I was wont, prating and foolishly, to 
 ask them, " Why then doth the soul which God created 
 err? But I would not be asked, "Why then doth God 
 err 1" And I maintained, that Thy unchangeable sub- 
 stance did err upon constraint, rather than confess that 
 my changeable substance had gone astray voluntarily, 
 and now for punishment, lay in error. 
 
 27. I was then some six or seven and twenty years old 
 when I wrote those volumes ; revolving within me corpo- 
 
64 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 real fictions, buzzing in the ears of my heart, which I 
 turned, O sweet truth, to thy inward melody, meditating 
 on the " fair and fit," and longing to stand and hearken 
 to Thee, and to rejoice greatly at the Bridegroom's voice, 
 but could not ; for by the voices of mine own errors, I 
 was hurried abroad, and through the weight of my own 
 pride, I was sinking into the lowest pit. For thou didst 
 not make me to hear joy and gladness, nor did the hones 
 exult which were not yet humbled. 
 
 [XVI.] 28. And what did it profit me, that scarce 
 twenty years old, a book of Aristotle, called the ten Pre- 
 dicaments,* falling into my hands, (on whose very name 
 I hung, as on something great and divine, so often my 
 rhetoric master of Carthage, and others, accounted 
 learned, mouthed it with cheeks bursting with pride,) I 
 read and understood it unaided ? And on my conferring 
 with others, who said that they scarcely understood it with 
 very able tutors, not only orally explaining it, but draw- 
 ing many things in sand, they could tell me no more of it 
 than I had learned, reading it by myself And the book 
 appeared to me to speak very clearly of substances, such 
 as "man," and of their qualities, as the figure of a man, 
 of what sort it is ; and stature, how many feet high; and 
 his relationship, whose brother he is; or where placed; 
 or when born ; or whether he stands or sits ; or be shod 
 or armed ; or does, or suffers any thing ; and all the 
 innumerable things which might be ranged under these 
 nine Predicaments, of which I have given some specimens, 
 or under that chief Predicament of Substance. 
 
 29. What did all this further me, seeing it even 
 hindered me ? for imagining all being to be comprehended 
 under those ten Predicaments, I essayed in such wise to 
 understand, O my God, Thy wonderful and unchangea*- 
 ble Unity also, as if Thou also hadst been subjected to 
 Thine own greatness or beauty ; so that (as in bodies) 
 they should exist in Thee, as their subject : whereas Thou 
 Thyself art Thy own greatness and beauty ; but a body is 
 not great or fair in that it is a body, for if it were less 
 
 * All the relations of things were corapriaed by Aristotle under nine heads; 
 quantity, quality, relation, action, passion, where, when, situation, clothing; and 
 these vith that wherein they might ho found, or " substance," make up the ten 
 categories or piedicamenLs. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 65 
 
 great or fair, it would, notwithstanding, be a body. But 
 it was a falsehood which I conceived concerning Thee, 
 not truth ; fictions of my misery, not the realities of Thy 
 Blessedness. For Thou hadst commanded, and it was 
 done in me, that the earth should bring forth briars and 
 thorns to me, and that in the sweat of my brows I should 
 eat my bread. 
 
 30. And what did it profit me, that all the books I 
 could procure of the so-called liberal arts, I, the vile slave 
 of vile affections, read by myself, and understood ? And 
 I delighted in them, but knew not whence came all that 
 was true or certain in them. For I had my back to the 
 light, and ray face to the things enlightened ; whence my 
 face, with which I discerned things enlightened, itself was 
 not enlightened. Whatever was written, either on 
 rhetoric, or logic, geometry, music, and arithmetic, with- 
 out much difficulty or any instructor, I understood, as 
 Thou knowest, O Lord my God ; because both ray quick- 
 ness of understanding, and acuteness in discerning, was 
 Thy gift: yet did I not give thanks for them to Thee. 
 So then they served not to ray use, but rather to ray per- 
 dition, since I desired to have the liberal portion Thou 
 bestowed on me in ray own keeping ; and 1 kept not my "* 
 strength for Thee, but wandered frora Thee into a far 
 country, to spend it upon harlotries. For what profited ^ 
 me good abilities, not employed to good uses ? For I felt 
 not that those arts were attained with great difficulty, 
 even by the studious and talented, until I attempted to 
 explain them to such ; when he most excelled in thera, 
 who followed rae not altogether slowly. 
 
 31. But what did this-further me, imagining that Thou, 
 
 Lord God, the Truth, wert a vast and bright body, and 
 
 1 a fragment of that body 1 Perverseness too great 1 But 
 such was I. Nor do I blush, O my God, to confess to 
 Thee Thy. mercies towards me, and to call upon Thee ; I 
 who blushed not then to profess to men my blasphemies, 
 and to bark against Thee. What profited me then ray 
 nimble wit in those sciences and all those most knotty 
 volumes, unravelled by rae, without aid from human 
 instruction ; seeing I erred so foully, and with such 
 sacrilegious shamefulness, in the doctrine of piety 1 A 
 
66 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 far slower wit was more profitable to Thy little ones, 
 since they departed not far from Thee, and in the nest of 
 Thy Church were securely fledged, and the wings of their 
 charity were nourished by the food of a sound faith. O 
 Lord our God, under the shadow of Thy wings is our hope ; 
 protect us, and carry us, both when we are little, and 
 even in hoar hairs wilt Thou carry us ; for our firmness, 
 only when it is in Thee, is firmness ; when it is our own, 
 it is infirmity. Our good only lives with Thee ; when we 
 turn away from Thee we are perverted. Let us then, O. 
 Lord, return, that we may not be overturned ; because 
 with Thee good lives without any decay, for Thou art 
 good; nor need we fear, lest there be no place whither to 
 return, because we fell from it ; for our mansion — Thy> 
 eternity — fell not when we left Thee. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 67 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 St. Augfustine'a twenty-ninth year. 
 
 [I.] 1. Receive, O Lord, the sacrifice of my confes- 
 sions from the ministry of my tongue, which Thou hast 
 formed and stirred up to confess unto Thy name. Heal 
 thou all my bones, and let them say, O Lord, who is like 
 unto thee 7 Yet he who confesses to Thee, doth not teach 
 Thee what takes place within himself; seeing a closed 
 heart had not shut out Thine eye, nor had man's hard- 
 heartedness prevented Thine hand : for Thou dissolvest 
 us at will, in pity or in vengeance, and nothing can hide 
 itself from Thy heat. But let ray soul praise Thee, that 
 it may love Thee; and let it confess Thy own mercies to 
 Thee, that it may praise Thee. Thy whole creation ceases 
 not to praise Thee ; neither my spirit, whose voice is 
 towards Thee, nor creation animate or inanimate, by the 
 voice of those who meditate thereon ; when our souls 
 from their own weariness arise towards Thee, leaning on 
 those things which Thou hast created, and by them pass- 
 ing on to Thyself, who madest them wonderfully ; whereby 
 Cometh refreshment and true strength. 
 
 [II.] 2. Let the restless, the godless, depart and flee 
 from Thee ; yet Thou seest them, and dividest the dark- 
 ness. And behold, the universe with them is fair, though 
 they are foul. And how may they injure Thee 1 or how 
 disgrace Thy government, which, from the heaven to this 
 low earth, is just and perfect? For whither fled they, 
 when they fled from Thy presence 1 Or where dost not 
 Thou find them out? They fled, that they might not see 
 Thee looking at them, but blinded. might stumble against 
 Thee ; (because Thou for sahest nothing Thou hast made.) 
 The unjust, I say, stumble upon Thee, and justly are 
 hurt; withdrawing themselves from Thy gentleness, and 
 stumbling at Thy uprightness, and falling upon their own 
 ruggedaess. Ignorant, in Truth, that Thou art every 
 where, Whom no place encompasseth ! that Thou alone 
 
6S CONFESf?IONS OF 
 
 art near even to those that remove far from Thee. O 
 Lord, let them turn and seek Thee ; for not as they have 
 forsaken their Creator, hast Thou forsaken Thy creation. 
 Let them turn and seek Thee : for behold Thou art there 
 in their heart, in the heart of those that confess to Thee, 
 that cast themselves upon Thee, and weep in Thy bosom, 
 after all their rugged ways ; and Thou dost gently wipe 
 away their tears, and they weep the more for joy ; because 
 Thou, Lord— not man of flesh and blood, but — Thou, 
 Lord, who madest them, re-makest and comfortest them, 
 But where was I when I was seeking Thee? Thou wert 
 before me, but I had gone away from Thee ; I had de- 
 parted from myself, how much more from Thee ! 
 
 [IIL] 3. I would lay open before my God that nine 
 and twentieth year of mine age. There had then come 
 to Carthage a certain Bishop of the Manichees, Faustus 
 by name, a great snare of the Devil, and many were en- 
 tangled by him, through the lure of his sweet language : 
 which, though I commended it, I could not separate from 
 the truth of the things which I was earnest to learn : nor 
 did I so much regard the service of oratory, as the science, 
 which this Faustus, so praised among them, did set be- 
 fore me to feed upon. Fame had bespoken him most 
 knowing in all valuable learning, and exquisitely skilled 
 in the liberal sciences. And, as 1 had read and well re- 
 membered much of the philosophers, 1 compared some 
 things of theirs with those long fables of the Manichees, 
 and found the former the more probable ; even although 
 they could only prevail so far as to make judgment of 
 this lower world, the Lord of it they could hy no means 
 find out. For Thou art great, O Lord, and hast respect 
 unto the humble, hut the proud Thou beholdest afar of. 
 Nor dost Thou draw near, but to the contrite in heart, 
 nor art found by the proud, no, not though by curious 
 skill they could number the stars and the sand, and mea- 
 sure the starry heavens, and track the course of the 
 planets. 
 
 4. For with the understanding and wit, which Thou 
 bestowedst on them, philosophers search out these things; 
 and much have they found out ; and foretold, many years 
 before, eclipses of the sun and moon — what day and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. b9 
 
 hour, and how many digits — nor did their calculation fail, 
 but came to pass as they foretold ; and they wrote down 
 the rules they had found out, and these are read at this 
 day, and out of them do others foretell in what year, and 
 month of the year, and what day of the month, and what 
 hour of the day, and what part of its light, moon or sun 
 is to be eclipsed, and so it shall be, as it is foreshowed. 
 At these things, men that know not this art marvel and 
 are astonished ; and they that know it, exult, and are 
 puffed up ; and by an ungodly pride departing from Thee, 
 and failing of Thy light, they foresee a failure of the 
 sun's light, but see not the failure of their own, which 
 now is. For they search not religiously whence they have 
 the wit, wherewith they search out this. And finding that 
 Thou madest them, they give not themselves up to Thee, 
 to be preserved as Thou madest, nor sacrifice to Thee what 
 they have made themselves ; nor slay their own soaring 
 imaginations, as fowls of the air, nor their own diving 
 curiosities, (wherewith, like the fishes of the sea, they 
 wander over the unknown paths of the abyss,) nor their 
 own luxuriousness, as beasts oftliejield, that Thou, Lord, 
 as a consvming fire, mayest burn up their dead cares, and 
 re-create them immortal. 
 
 5. For they knew not the way. Thy Word, by Whom 
 Thou madest these things which they number, and them- 
 selves who number, and the sense whereby they perceive 
 what they number, and the understanding, out of which 
 they number ; also that of Thy wisdom there is no num- 
 ber. But the Only 'Begotten is Himself mat^e unto us wis- 
 dom, and righteousness, and sanctificafien, and was num- 
 bered among us, and paid, tribute unto Casar. They 
 knew not this Way whereby to descend to Him from them- 
 selves, and by Him ascend unto Him. They knew not 
 this way, and deemed themselves exalted amongst the 
 stars and shining; and behold, \h&y fell upon the earth, 
 and their fooUsli heart was darkened. They discourse 
 many things truly concerning the creature ; but Truth, 
 that made the creature, they seek not piously, and there- 
 fore find not ; or if they find Him, and know Him to be 
 God, they glorify Him not as God, neither are thankful, 
 but become vam im, their imaginati^trS, and profess tkgm- 
 6 
 
70 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 selves to be wise, attributing to themselves what is Thine; 
 and thereby with most perverse blindness, study to impute 
 to Thee what is their own, forging lies of Thee who art 
 the Truth, and changing the glorij of the uncorritptihk 
 God, into an image made like corruptible man, and te 
 birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things ; chang- 
 ing Thy truth into a lie, and worshipping and serving the 
 creature more than the Creator. 
 
 6, Yet many truths concerning the creature learned I 
 from these men, and saw the reason thereof, from calcula- 
 tions, the succession of times, and the visible testimonies 
 of the ■ stars ; and compared them with the opinions of 
 Manichs&us, which in his frenzy he had written out largely 
 on these subjects ; but I discovered not any account of 
 the solstices, or equinoxes, or the eclipses of the greater 
 lights, nor whatever of this sort I had learned in the 
 books of secular philosophy. But I was commanded to 
 believe what corresponded not with what had been estab- 
 lished by calculations and ray own sight, but was quite 
 contrary. 
 
 [IV.] 7. But, O Lord God of truth, doth he whoknow- 
 eth these things, therefore please Thee? Surely, unhappy 
 is he who knoweth all these, and knoweth not Thee : but 
 happy whoso knoweth Thee, though he know not these. 
 And whoso knoweth both Thee and them, is not the hap- 
 pier for them, but for Thee only, if, knowing Thee, he 
 glorifies Thee as God, and is thankful, and becomes not 
 vain in his imaginations. For as he is better off who 
 knows how to possess a tree, and returns thanks to Thee 
 for the use thereof, although he know not how many cu- 
 bits high it is, or how wide it spreads, than he that can 
 measure it, and count all its boughs, and neither owns it, 
 nor knows or loves its Creator : so a believer, to whom 
 belongs all this world of wealth, (since having nothing, 
 Jie possesscth all things, by cleaving unto Thee, whom all 
 things serve,) though he know not even the circles of the 
 Great Bear, is doubtless in a better state than one who 
 can measure the heavens, and number the stars, and poise 
 the elements, yet neglecteth Thee, who hast made all 
 things in number, weight, and measure. 
 
 [V.] 8. It is vanity to make profession of these worldly 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 71 
 
 things, even when known ; but confession to Thee is 
 piety. ^Wherefore this wanderer spake much of these 
 things, that convicted by tliose who had truly learned 
 them, it might be questioned what understanding he had 
 in the other abstruser things. For he would not have him- 
 self meanly thought of, but went about to persuade men, 
 " that the Holy Ghost, the Comforter and Enricher of Thy 
 faithful ones, was with plenary authority personally within 
 him." When, therefore, he was found out to have taught 
 falsely of the heaven and stars, and of the motions of the 
 sun and moon, '(although these things pertain not to the 
 doctrine of religion,) his sacrilegious presumption would 
 become evident enough, seeing he delivered things which 
 not only he knew not, but which were falsified, and with 
 so mad a vanity of pride, he sought to ascribe them to 
 himself, as to a divine person. 
 
 9. For when I hear any Christian brother ignorant of 
 these things, and mistaken on them, I can patiently be- 
 hold such a man holding his opinion ; nor do I see that 
 any ignorance as to the position or character of the cor- 
 poreal creation can injure him, so long as he doth not be- 
 lieve any thing unworthy of Thee, O Lord, the Creator 
 of all. But it doth injure him, if he imagine it to per- 
 tain to the form of the doctrine of piety, and will yet af- 
 firm too stiffly that of which he is ignorant. And yet is 
 even such an infirmity, in the infancy of faith, borne by 
 our mother Charity, till the new-born grow up unto a per- 
 fect man, so as not to he carried about with evert/ wind- of 
 doctrine. But in him, who in such wise presumed to be 
 the teacher, the source, guide, and chief of all whom he 
 could persuade, that whoso followed him thought that he 
 followed, not a mere man, but Thy Holy Spirit ; who 
 would not judge that, when once convicted of having 
 taught any thing false, he were to be detested and utterly 
 rejected ? But I had not as yet clearly ascertained, 
 whether the vicissitudes of longer and shorter days and 
 nights, and of day and night itself, with the eclipses of 
 the greater lights, and whatever else of the kind I had 
 read of in other books, might be explained consistently 
 with his sayings ; so that, if they by any means might, it 
 should still remain a question to me, whether it were so 
 
72 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 or no ; but I might, on account of his reputed sanctity, 
 rest my credence upon his authority. 
 ■ [VI.] 10. And for almost all those nine years, wherein 
 
 Blith unsettled mind I bad been their disciple, I had longed 
 
 but too intensely for the coming of this Faustus. For the 
 rest of the sect, whom by chance I had lighted upon, 
 when unable to solve my objections about these things, 
 still held out to me the coming of this Faustus, by con- 
 ference with whom, these and greater difficulties, if I had 
 them, were to be most readily and abundantly cleared. 
 When then he came, I found him a man of pleasing dis- 
 course, and who could speak fluently and in better terms, 
 yet still but the self-same things which they were wont to 
 say. But what availed the utmost neatness of the cup- 
 bearer to my thirst for a more precious draught ? Mine 
 ears were already cloyed with the like, nor did it seem to 
 me better, because better said ; nor true, because elo- 
 quent ; nor was the soul therefore wise, because the face 
 was comely and the language graceful. They who had 
 held him out to me, were not good judges of things ; and 
 he appeared wise to them, because he pleased them by his 
 words. I felt, however, that another sort of people were 
 suspicious even of truth, if delivered in a smooth and co- 
 pious discourse. But Thou, O my God, hadst already 
 taught me by wonderful and secret ways ; I believe that 
 Thou taughtest me, because it is truth, nor is there besides 
 Thee any teacher of truth, where or whencesoever it may 
 shine upon us ! Of Thyself therefore had I now learned, 
 that neither ought any thing to seem to be spoken truly, 
 because eloquently ; nor falsely, because the utterance of 
 the lips was inharmonious ; neither true, because rudely 
 delivered ; nor false, because the language is rich ; but 
 that wisdom and folly are as wholesome and unwholesome 
 food ; and adorned or unadorned phrases, as courtly or 
 country vessels ; either kind of meats may be served up 
 in either kind of dishes. 
 
 II. The longing, then, wherewith I had so long expected 
 that man, was delighted verily with his action and feeling 
 when disputing, and his choice and readiness of words to 
 clothe his ideas. I was delighted, and, with many others 
 and more than they, did I praise and extol him. It troub- 
 
. ST. AUGUSTINE. 73 
 
 led me, however, that, in the assembly of his auditors, I 
 was not allowed to put in and communicate those ques- 
 tions that troubled me. But when with my friend, I in 
 familiar converse with him, began to engage his ears, at 
 such times as it was not unbecoming for him to discuss 
 with me, and had brought forward such things as moved me, 
 I found him first utterly ignorant of liberal sciences, save 
 grammar, and that but in an ordinary way. But because 
 he had read some of Tally's Orations, a very few books 
 of Seneca, some things of the poets, and the few volumes 
 of his own sect, which were written in Latin, and was 
 daily practiced in speaking, he had acquired a certain elo- 
 quence, which proved pleasing and seductive, under the 
 guidance of a good wit, and a kind of natural graceful- 
 ness. Was it not thus, as 1 recall it, O Lord ray God, 
 Thou Judge of my conscience ? My heart, and my re- 
 membrance, is before Thee, Who didst at that time direct 
 me by the hidden mystery of Thy providence, and didst 
 set those shameful errors of mine before my face, that I 
 might see and hate them. 
 
 [VII.] 12. For after it was clear, that he was ignorant 
 of those arts in which I thought he excelled, I began to 
 despair of his opening and solving the difficulties which 
 perplexed me ; (of which indeed, however ignorant, he 
 might have held the truths of piety, had he not been a 
 Manichee.) For their books are fraught witlk prolix fa- 
 bles, of the heaven, and stars, sun, and moon^ud I now* 
 no longer thought him able satisfactorily to decide what 
 I much desired/whether, on comparison of these things^ 
 with the calculations I had elsewhere read, the account 
 given in the books of Manichaeus were preferable, or at 
 least as good. Which, when I proposed to be considered 
 and discussed, he, so far modestly, shrunk from the bur- 
 then. For he knew that he knew not these things, and 
 was not ashamed to confess it ; not being one of those 
 talking persons, many of whom I had endured, who un- 
 dertook to teach me these things, and said nothing. But 
 this man had' a heart, though not right towards Thee, yet 
 neither altogether treacherous to himself And he was 
 not altogether ignorant of his own ignorance, nor would 
 he rashly be entangled in a dispute whence he could nei- 
 6* 
 
74 coNrEssioNS ot 
 
 ther retreat nor extricate himself fairly. Even for this I 
 liked him the hotter. For fairer is the modesty of a can- 
 did mind, than the knowledge of those things which I de- 
 sired ; and such I found him in all the more difficult and 
 subtile questions. 
 
 13. My zeal for the writings of Manichaeus being thug 
 blunted, and despairing yet more of their other teachers^ 
 seeing that in divers things which perplexed me, he, so 
 renowned among them, had so turned out ; I began to 
 engage with him in the study of that literature, on which 
 he also was much set, (and which as rhetoric-reader I was 
 at that time teaching young students at Carthage,) and to 
 read with him, either what himself desired to hear, or such 
 as I judged fit for his genius. But all my efforts whereby J 
 had purposed to advance in that sect, upon knowledge of 
 that man, came utterly to an end ; not that I detached 
 myself from them altogether, but as one finding nothing 
 better, I had settled to be content meanwhile with what I 
 had in whatever way fallen upon, unless by chance some- 
 thing more eligible should dawn upon me. Thus Faus- 
 tus, to so many a snare of death, had now, neither willing 
 nor witting it, begun to loosen that snare wherein I was 
 taken. For Thy hands, O my God, in the secret purpose 
 of Thy providence, did not forsake my soul ; and out of 
 my mother's heart's blood, through her tears night and 
 day poured out, was a sacrifice offered for me unto Thee ; 
 and Thou didst deal with me by wondrous ways. Thou 
 didst it, O my God : for the steps of a man are ordered by 
 the Lord, and He shall dispose his way. Or how shall 
 we obtain salvation, but from Thy hand, re-making what 
 It made? 
 
 [VIII.] 14. It was Thyrdping, O Lord, that I should 
 be persuaded to go to Rome, to teach there what I was 
 teaching at Carthage. And hovif I was persuaded to this, 
 I will not neglect to confess to Thee : because herein 
 also the deepest recesses of Thy wisdom, and Thy most 
 present mercy to me, must be considered and confessed. 
 I did not wish to go to Rome, because higher gains and 
 higher dignities were warranted me by my friends who 
 persuaded me to this, (though even these things had at 
 that time an influence over my mind,) but my chief and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 75 
 
 almost only reason was, that I heard that young men 
 studied there more peacefully, and were kept quiet under 
 a restraint of more regular discipline ; so that they did 
 not, at their pleasure, petulantly rush into the school of 
 one, whose pupils they were not, nor were even admitted 
 without his permission. Whereas at Carthage, there 
 reigns among the scholars a most disgraceful and unruly 
 license. They burst in audaciously, and with gestures 
 almost frantic, disturb all order which any one hath estab* 
 lished for the good of his scholars. Divers outrages 
 they commit, with a wonderful stolidity, punishable by 
 law, did not custom uphold them ; that custom evincing 
 them to be the more miserable, in that they now do as 
 lawful, what by Thy eternal law shall never be lawful ; 
 and they think they do it unpunished^ whereas they are 
 punished with thevery blindness whereby they do it, and 
 suffer incomparably worse than what they do. The man- 
 ners then -which, when a student, I would not make my 
 own, I was fain, as a teacher, to endure in others : and so 
 I was well pleased to go where those that knew, assured 
 me that the like was not done. But Thou, my refuge 
 and my portion in the, land of the living, that I might 
 change my earthly dwelling for the salvation of my soul, 
 at Carthage didst goad me, that I might thereby be torn 
 from it ; and at Rome didst proffer me allurements, 
 whereby I might be drawn thither. They who disturbed 
 my quiet, were blinded with a disgraceful phrensy, ana 
 they who invited me elsewhere, savored of earth. And I, 
 who here detested real misery, went there seeking unreal 
 happiness. But thou didst secretly use their and ray own 
 perverseness. 
 
 15. So why I went hence, and went thither. Thou 
 knewest, O God, yet showedst it neither to me, nor to my 
 mother, who grievously bewailed my journey, and follow- 
 ed me as far as the sea. But I deceived her, as she held 
 me by force, that either she might keep me back, or go 
 with me ; and I feigned that 1 ha^ a friend whom I could 
 not leave, till he had a fair wind to sail. And I lied to 
 my mother, (and such a mother !) and escaped. For this 
 also hast Thou mercifully forgiven me, preserving me, 
 thus full of execrable defilements, from the waters of the 
 
76 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 sea, for the waters of Thy grace ; whereby, when I was 
 cleansed, the streams of my mother's eyes should be dried, 
 with which she daily watered the ground under her face. 
 And yet, refusing to return without me, I scarcely per- 
 suaded her to stay that night in a place hard by our shipj 
 where was an Oratory in memory of the blessed Cyprian. 
 That night I privily departed, but she remained in weep- 
 ing and prayer. With so many tears asking of Thee, but 
 that Thou wouldest not suffer me to sail. But Thou, 
 in the depth of Thy counsels, and hearing the main point 
 of her desire, regardest not what she then asked, that 
 Thou mightest make me what she more deeply asked. 
 The wind blew and swelled our sails, and withdrew the 
 shore from our sight ; and she on the morrow was there, 
 frantic with sorrow, and did with complaints and groans 
 fill Thine ears, who didst then disregard them ; whilst 
 through my desires, Thou wert hurrying me to end all 
 desire, and the earthly part of her affection to me was 
 chastened by the allotted scourge of sorrows. For she 
 loved to have me with her, as all mothers do, but much 
 more than most ; and she knew not how great joy Thou 
 wert about to work for her out of my absence. She knew 
 not ; therefore did she weep and wail, and by this agony 
 there appeared in her the inheritance of Eve, with sorrow 
 seeking, what in sorrow she had brought forth. And yet, 
 after accusing my treachery and hardheartedness, she be- 
 took herself again to intercede to Thee for me, went to 
 her wonted place, and I to Rome. 
 
 [IX.] 16. And lo, there was I received by the scourge 
 of bodily sickness, and I was going down to hell, carry- 
 ing all the sins which I had committed, both against 
 Thee, and myself, and others, many and grievous, over 
 and above that bond of original sin, whereby we all die in 
 Adam. For Thou hadst not forgiven me any of these 
 things in Christ, nor had He abolished hy His cross the 
 enmity which by my sins I had incurred with Thee. For 
 how could He, by the crucifixion of a phantasm which I 
 believed Him to be ? For the death of my soul was aa 
 true, as the death of His flesh seemed to me false ; as the 
 death of his body was true, so false was the life of my 
 soul, which did not believe it. And now the fever 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 77 
 
 heightening, I was parting and departing for ever. For 
 had I then parted hence, whither had I departed, but into 
 fire and torments, such as ray misdeeds deserved in the 
 truth of Thy appointment? This my mother' knew not, 
 yet in absence prayed for me, and Thou, every where 
 present, heardst her where she was ; and, where J was, 
 hadst compassion upon me ; that I should recover the 
 health of my body, though phrensied as yet in my sacri- 
 legious heart. For I did not in all that danger desire 
 Thy baptism ; and I was better as a boy, when I begged 
 it of my mother's piety, as I have before recited and con- 
 fessed. But I, had grown up to my own shame, and I 
 madly scoiFed at the prescripts of Thy medicine, yet 
 wouldst Thou not suffer me to die a double death. For 
 had my^ mother's heart been pierced with that wound, it 
 could never be healed. I cannot express the affection 
 she bare to me, and with how much more vehement 
 anguish she was now in labor of me in the spirit, than at 
 her childbearing in the flesh. 
 
 17. I see not then how she should have been healed, 
 had such a death of mine stricken through the bowels of 
 her love. And where then would have been her so strong 
 and unceasing prayers. Thou wouldest not, O God of 
 mercies, despise the contrite and humbled heart of that 
 chaste and- sober widow, so frequent in alms-deeds, so full 
 of duty and service to Thy saints, no day intermitting' 
 the oblation at Thine altar, twice a day, morning and 
 evening, without any intermission, coming to Thy church, 
 not for idle tattlings and old wives fables ; but that she 
 might hear Thee in Thy discourses, and Thou her, in her 
 prayers. Couldest Thou despise and reject from Thy aid 
 the tears of such an one, wherewith she begged of 'Thee 
 not gold or silver, nor any mutable or passing good, but 
 the salvation of her son's soul? Thou, by whose gift she 
 was such ? Never, Lord. Yea, Thou wert at hand, and 
 wert hearing and doing, in that order wherein. Thou hadst 
 determined before, that it should be done. Far be it that 
 Thou shouldest deceive her in Thy visions and answers, 
 some whereof I have, some I have not mentioned, which 
 she laid up in her faithful heart, and ever praying, urged 
 upoii Thee, as Thine own handwriting. For Thou, be- 
 
78 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 cause Thy mercy endureth for ever, vouchsafest to those 
 to whom Thou forgavest all their debts, to become also a 
 debtor by Thy promises. 
 
 [X.] 18. Thou recoveredst me then of that sickness, 
 and healest the son of Thy handmaid in the body, that 
 he might live, for Thee to bestow upon him a better and 
 more abiding health. And even then, at Rome, I joined 
 myself to those deceiving and deceived "holy ones;" 
 not with their disciples only, (of which number was he, 
 in whose house I had fallen sick and recovered ;) but also 
 with those whom they call "The Elect." For I still 
 thought, " that it was not we that sin, but that I know 
 not what other nature sinned in us ;" and it delighted my 
 pride, to be free from blame ; and when I had done any 
 evil, not to confess I had done it, so that Thou mightest 
 heal my soul because it had sinned against Thee : but I 
 loved to excuse it, and to accuse I know not what other 
 thing, which was with me, but which I was not. But in 
 truth it was wholly I, and mine impiety had divided me 
 against myself: and that sin was the more incurable, 
 whereby I did not judge myself a sinner ; and execrable 
 iniquity it was, that I had rather have Thee, Thee, O 
 God Almighty, to be overcome in me to my destruction, 
 than myself to be overcome of Thee to salvation. Not 
 as yet then hadst Thou set a watch before my mouth, and 
 a door of safe keeping around my lips, that my heart 
 might not turn aside to wicked speeches, to make excuses of 
 sins, with men that work iniquity : and, therefore, was I 
 still united with their Elect. 
 
 19. But now despairing to make proficiency in that 
 false doctrine, even those things (with which if I should 
 find no better, I had resolved to rest contented,) I now 
 held more laxly and carelessly. For there half arose a 
 thought in me, that those philosophers, whom they call 
 Academics, were wiser than the rest, who held that men 
 ought to doubt every thing, and laid down that no truth can 
 be comprehended by man : for so, not then understanding 
 even their meaning, I also was clearly convinced that 
 they thought, as they are commonly reported. Yet did I 
 freely and openly discourage that host of mine from that 
 over-confidence which I perceived him to have in those 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 79 
 
 fables, which the books of Manichees are full of. Yet I 
 lived in more familiar friendship with them, than with 
 others who were not of this heresy. Nor did I maintain 
 it with my ancient eagerness ; still my intimacy with that 
 sect, (Rome secretly harboring many of them,) made me 
 slower to seek any other way : especially since I -despair- 
 ed of finding the truth, from which they had turned me 
 aside, in TJiy Church, O Lord of heaven and earth. Cre- 
 ator of all tilings visible and invisible : and it seemed to 
 me very unseemly to believe Thee to have the shape of 
 human flesh, and to be bounded by the bodily lineaments 
 of our members. .And because, when I wished to think 
 on my God, I knew not what to think of, but a mass of 
 bodies, (for what was not such, did not seem to me to be 
 any thing,) this was the greatest, and almost only cause 
 of my inevitable error. 
 
 30. For hence I believed Evil also to be some such kind 
 of substance, and to have its own foul and hideous bulk ; 
 whether gross, which they called earth, or thin and subtile, 
 (like the body of the air,) which they imagine to be some 
 malignant mind creeping through that earth. And be- 
 cause a piety, such as it was, constrained me to believe, 
 that the good God never created any evil nature, I con- 
 ceived two masses, contrary to one another, both un- 
 bounded, but the evil narrower, the good more expansive. 
 And from this pestilent beginning, the other sacrilegious 
 conceits followed on me. For when my mind endeavofefl" 
 to recur to the Catholic faith, I was driven back, since 
 that was not the Catholic faith, which I though to be so; 
 And I seemed to myself more reverential, if I believed" 
 Thee, my God, as unbounded, at least on other sides, (for 
 on that one where the mass of evil was opposed to Thee, 
 I was constrained to confess Thee bounded,) than if on 
 all sides I should imagine Thee to be bounded by the 
 form of a human body. And it seemed to me better to 
 believe Thee to have created no evil, (which to me igno- 
 rant seemed not some only, but a bodily substance, be- 
 > cause I could not conceive of mind, unless as a subtile 
 body, and that diflused in definite spaces,) than to believe 
 the nature of evil, such as I conceived it, could come 
 from Thee. Yea, and our Savior Himself, Thy Only 
 
80 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Begotten, I believed to have been reached fol'th (as it were) 
 for our salvation, out of the mass of Thy most lucid sub- 
 stance, so as lo believe nothing of Him but what I could 
 imagine in my vanity. His Nature, then, being such, I 
 thought could not be born of the Virgin Mary, without 
 being mingled with the flesh : and how that which I had 
 so figured to myself, could be mingled, and not defiled, I 
 saw not. I feared therefore to believe Him born in the 
 flesh, lest I should be forced to believe Him defiled by 
 the flesh. Now will Thy spiritual ones mildly and lov- 
 ingly smile upon me, if they shall read these my confes- 
 sions. Yet such was I. 
 
 [XL] 21. Furthermore, what the Manichees had crit- 
 icised in Thy Scriptures, I thought could not be defended ; 
 yet at times verily I had a wish to confer upon these sev- 
 eral points with some one very well skilled in those books, 
 and to make trial what he thought thereon : for the words 
 of one Helpidius, as he spoke and disputed face to face 
 against the said Manichees, had begun to stir me even at 
 Carthage : in that he had produced things out of the 
 Scriptures, not easily withstood, the Manichees' answer 
 whereto seemed to me weak. And this answer they liked 
 not to give publicly, but only to us in private. It was, 
 that the Scriptures of the New Testament had been cor- 
 rupted by I know not whom, who wished to engraft the 
 law of the Jews upon the Christian faith : yet themselves 
 produced not any uncorrupted copies. But I, conceiving 
 of things corporeal only, was mainly held down, vehe- 
 mently pressed, and in a manner suffocated by those 
 " masses ;" panting under which after the breath of Thy 
 truth, I could not breathe it pure and untainted. 
 
 [XH.] 22. I began then diligently to practise that for 
 which I came to Rome, to teach rhetoric ; and first, to 
 gather some to my house, to whom, and through whom; 
 I had begun to be known ; when lo, I found other offences 
 committed in Rome, to which I was not exposed in Africa. 
 True, those " subvertings" by profligate young men, were 
 not here practised, as was told me : but on a sudden, said 
 they, to avoid paying their master's stipend, a number of 
 youths plot together, and remove to another — breakers of 
 faith, who for love of money hold justice cheap. These 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 81 
 
 also my heart hated, though not with a perfect hatred : for 
 perchance I hated them more because I was to suffer by 
 them, than because they did things utterly unlawful. Of 
 a truth, such are base persons, and they go a whoring 
 from Thee, loving these fleeting mockeries of things tem- 
 poral, and filthy lucre, which fouls the hand that grasps 
 it; hugging the fleeting world, and despising Thee, who 
 abidest, and recallest, and forgivest the adulteress soul of 
 man, when she returns to Thee. And now I hate such 
 depraved and crooked persons, though I love them if they 
 can be corrected, so as to prefer to money the learning, 
 which they acquire ; and to learning. Thee, O God, th« 
 truth and fulness of assured good, and most pure peace. 
 But then I rather for my own sake disliked them, than 
 wished them good for Thy sake. 
 
 {XIII.] 23. When therefore they of Mihn sent to the 
 prefect of Rome, to furnish them with a rhetoric reader 
 for their city, and send him at the public expense, I made 
 application (through those very persons, intoxicated with 
 ManichcBan vanities, to be freed wherefrom I was to go, 
 neither of us however knowing it) that Symmiachus, then 
 prefect of the city, would try me, by setting me some sub- 
 ject, and so send me. To Milan I came, to Ambrose the 
 Bishop, known to the whole world as among the best of 
 men. Thy devout servant; whose eloquent discourse did 
 then plentifully dispense unto Thy people the flour of Thy 
 wheat, the gladness of Thy oil, and the sober inebriation 
 of Thy wine. To him was I unconsciously led by Thee, 
 that by him I might consciously be led to Thee. That 
 man of God received me as a father, and showed me an 
 Episcopal kindness on my coming. Thenceforth I began 
 to love him, at first indeed not as a teacher of the truth, 
 (which I utterly despaired of in Thy Church,) but as a 
 person kind towards myself. And I listened diligently to 
 him preaching to the people, not with the intent I ought, 
 but, as it were, trying his eloquence, whether it answered 
 the fame thereof, or flowed fuller or lower than was re- 
 ported ; and I hung on his words attentively ; but of the 
 matter I was a careless and scornful looker-on ; and I was 
 delighted with the sweetness of his discourse, more recon- 
 dite, yet in manner less winning and harmonious, than 
 7 
 
82 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 that of Faustus. Of the matter, however, there was no 
 comparison ; for the one was wandering amid Manichsan 
 delusions, the other teaching salvation most soundly. But 
 salvation is far from sinners, such as I then stood before 
 him; and yet was I drawing nearer by little and little, 
 and unconsciously. 
 
 [XIV.] 24. For though I took no pains to learn what 
 he spake, but only to bear how he spake, (for that empty 
 care alone was left me, despairing of a way, open for man, 
 to Thee,) yet together with the words which I would 
 choose, came also into my mind the things which I would 
 refuse : for I could not separate them. And while I opened 
 my heart to admit " how eloquently he spake," there also 
 entered " how truly be spake ;" but this by degrees. For 
 first, these things also had now begun to appear to me ca- 
 pable of defence ; and the Catholic faith, for which I had 
 thought nothing could be said against the Manichees' ob- 
 jections, I now thought might be maintained without 
 shamelessness ; especially after I had heard one or two 
 places of the Old Testament resolved, and ofttimes " in 
 a Jigura," which when I understood literally, I was slain 
 spiritually. Very many^places then of those books hav- 
 ing been explained, I now blamed my despair, in believ- 
 ing that no answer could be given to such as hated and 
 scoffed at the Law and the Prophets. Yet did I not there- 
 fore then see, that the Catholic way was to be held, be- 
 cause it also could find Jearned maintainers, who could at 
 large and with some show of reason answer objections; 
 nor that what I held was therefore to be condemned, be- 
 cause both sides could be maintained. For the Catholic 
 cause seemed to me in such sort not vanquished, as still 
 not as yet to be victorious. 
 
 25. Hereupon I earnestly bent my mind, to see if in 
 any way I could by any certain proof convict the Mani- 
 chees of falsehood. Could I once have conceived a spu;- 
 itual substance, all their strong holds had been beaten 
 down, and cast utterly out of my mind ; but I could not. 
 Notwithstanding, concerning the frame of this world, and 
 the whole of nature, which the senses of the flesh can 
 reach to, as I more and more considered and compared 
 things, I judged the tenets of most of the philosophers to 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 83 
 
 have been much more probable. So then after the man- 
 ner of the Academics (as they are supposed) doubting of 
 every thing, and wavering between all, I settled so far, 
 that the Maniohees'were to be abandoned ; judging that, 
 even while doubting, I might not continue in that sect, to 
 which I already preferred some of the philosophers ; to 
 which philosophers, notwithstanding, for that they were 
 vi'ithout the saving Name of Christ, I utterly refused to 
 commit the cure of my sick soul. I determined therefore 
 so long to be a Catechumen in the Catholic Church, to 
 which I had been commended by my parents, till some- 
 thing certain should dawn upon me, whither I might steer 
 my course. 
 
84 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 Arriviil of Monnioa at Milan ; her obedience to St. Ambrose, and his value for 
 her; St. Ambrose's habits; Anguatine's gradual abandonment of error ; finds 
 that he has blamed the Catholic Chureh wrongly , desire of absolnle certainty, 
 but struck with the contrary analogy of God's natural Providence ; hov» shaken 
 ix) his worldly pursuits ; God's guidance of hh friend Alypius ■, Augustine 
 debates with himself and his friends about theit mode of life ; bis inveterate 
 sins, and dread of future judgment. 
 
 [I.]. 1. O Thou, my hope from my youth, where wast 
 Thou and whither wert Thou gone? Hadst not Thou 
 created me, and separated me from the beasts of the field, 
 and fowls of the air 1 Thou hadst made me wiser, yet 
 did I walk in darkness, and in slippery places, and sought 
 Thee abroad out of myself, and found not the God of my 
 heart ; and had come into the depths of the sea, and dis- 
 trusted and despaired of ever finding truth. My mother 
 had now come to me, resolute through piety, following 
 me over sea and land, in all perils confiding in Thee. 
 For in perils of the sea, she comforted the very mariners, 
 (by whom passengers unacquainted with the deep, use 
 rather to be comforted when troubled,) assuring them of 
 a safe arrival, because Thou hadst by a vision assured her 
 thereof. She found me in grievous peril, through despair 
 of ever finding truth. But when I had told her that I 
 was now no longer a Manichee, though not yet a Catholic 
 Christian, she was overjoyed, as at something unexpected; 
 being now assured concerning that part of my misery, for 
 which she bewailed me as one dead, though to be re- 
 awakened by Thee. I was carried forth therefore upon the 
 hier of her thoughts, that Thou migbtest say to the son of 
 the widow, Young man, I say unto thee. Arise ; and he 
 sJiould revive, and begin to speak, and Thou shouldest de- 
 liver him to his mother. Her heart then was shaken with 
 no tumultuous exultation, when she heard that what she 
 daily with tears desired of Thee, was already in so great 
 part realized ; in that, though I had not yet attained the 
 truth, I was rescued from falsehood ; but, as being as- 
 sured, that Thou, who hadst promised the whole, wouldest 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 85 
 
 one day give the rest, most calmly, and with an heart full 
 of confidence, she replied to me, " She believed in Christ, 
 that before she departed this life, she should see me a 
 Catholic believer." Thus much tome. But to. Thee, 
 Fountain of mercies, poured she forth more copious 
 prayers and tears, that Thou wouldest hasten Thy help, 
 and enlighten my darkness ; and she hastened the more 
 eagerly to the Church, and hung upon the lips of Am- 
 brose, praying for the fountain of that water, which 
 springeth up unto life everlasting. But that man she loved 
 as an angel of God, because she knew that by him I had 
 been brought for the present to that doubtful state of faith 
 I now was in, through which she anticipated most confi- 
 dently, that I should pass from sickness unto health, after 
 the access, as it were, of a sharper fit, which physicians 
 call " the crisis." 
 
 [II.] 2. When then my mother had once, as she was 
 wont in Afric, brought to the Churches built in memory 
 of the Saints, certain cakes, and bread and wine, and 
 was forbidden by the door keeper ; so soon as she knew 
 that the Bishop had forbidden this, she piously and obedi- 
 ently embraced his wishes, that I mysfelf wondered how 
 readily she censured her own practice, rather than discuss 
 his prohibition. For wine-bibbing did not lay siege to 
 her spirit, nor did love of wine provoke her to hatred of 
 the truth, as it doth too many, (both men and women,) 
 who revolt at a les§on of sobriety, as drunken men at a 
 draught mingled with water. But she, when she had 
 brought her basket with the accustomed ftstival-food, to 
 be but tasted by herself, and then given away, never 
 joined therewith more than one small cup of wine, diluted 
 according to ber own abstemious habits, which for cour- 
 tesy she would taste. And if there were many Churches 
 of the departed saints, that were to be honored in that 
 manner, she still carried round that same one cup, to be 
 used every where ; and this, though not only made very 
 watery, but unpleasantly heated with carrying about, she 
 would distribute to those about her by small sips ; for she 
 sought devotion, not pleasure. So soon, then, as she 
 found this custom to be forbidden by that famous preach- 
 er, and most pious prelate, even to those that would use 
 7* 
 
86- CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 it soberly, lest so an occasion of excess might be given to 
 the drunken ; and because these, as it were, anniversary 
 funeral solemnities, did much resemble the superstition of 
 tbe Gentiles, she most willingly forbare it : and for a 
 ba,sket 'filled with fruits of the earth, she had learned to 
 bring to the Churches of the martyrs, a breast filled with 
 more purified petitions, and to giye what she could to the 
 poor : that so the communication of the Lord's Body 
 might be there rightly celebrated, where, after the exam- 
 ple of His Passion, the martyrs had been sacrificed and 
 crowned. But yet it seems to me, O Lord my God, and 
 thus thinks my heart of it in Thy sight, that perhaps she 
 would not so readily have yielded to the cutting off of this 
 custom, had it been forbidden by another, whom she loved 
 pot as Ambrose, whom, for my salvation, she loved most 
 entirely ; and he loved her, also, for her most religious 
 conversation, whereby in good works, so fervent inspirit, 
 she was constant at church ; so that, when he saw me, he 
 often burst forth into her praises, congratulating me, that 
 I had such a mother ; not knowing what a son she had in 
 me, who doubted of all these things, and imagined the 
 way of life could not be found out. 
 
 [III.] 3. Nor did I yet groan in my prayers, that Thoxi 
 wouldest help me ; but my spirit was wholly intent on 
 learning, and restless to dispute. And Ambrose himself, 
 I esteemed a happy man, as the world counts happy, be- 
 cause personages so great held him in such honor ; only 
 his celibacy seemed to me a painful course. But what 
 hope he bore within him, what struggles he had against 
 the temptations which beset his very excellencies, or what 
 comfort in adversity, and what sweet joys Thy Bread had, 
 for the hidden mouth of his spirit, when chewing the cud 
 thereof, I neither could conjecture, nor had experience. 
 Nor did he know the tides of my feeHngs, or the abyss of 
 my danger. For I could not ask of him, what I would, 
 being shut out both from his ear and speech by multitudes 
 of busy people, whose weaknesses he served. With whom 
 when he was not taken up, (which was but a little time,) 
 he was either refreshing his body with the sustenance 
 absolutely necessary, or his mind with reading. But 
 when he was reading, his eye glided over t,he pages, and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 87 
 
 his heart searched out the sense, but his voice and tongue 
 were at rest. Qfttinaes when we had come, (for no man 
 was forbidden to enter, nor was it his wont that any who 
 came should be announced to him,) we saw him thus 
 reading to himself, and never otherwise; and having, long 
 sat silent, (for who durst intrude on one so intent?) we 
 were fain to depart, conjecturing, that in the small inter- 
 val, which he obtained, free from the din of others' 
 business, for the recruiting of his mind, he was loath to 
 be taken off; and perchance he dreaded lest if the author 
 he read should deliver any thing obscurely, some atten- 
 tive or perplexed hearer should desire him to expound it, 
 or to discuss some of the harder questions ; so that his 
 time being thus spent, he could not turn over so many 
 volumes as he desired; although the preserving of his 
 voice, (which a very little speaking would weaken) might 
 be the truer reason for his reading to himself. But with 
 what intent soever he did it, certainly in such a man it 
 was good. 
 
 4. I however certainly had no opportunity of inquiring 
 what I wished, of that so holy oracle of Thine, his breast, 
 unless the thing might be answered briefly. But those 
 tides in me, to be poured out to him, required his full 
 leisure, and never found .it. I heard him, indeed, every 
 Lord's day, rightly expounding the Word of Truth 
 among the people; atid I was more and more convinced, 
 that all the knots of those crafty calumnies, which our 
 deceivers had knit against the -Divine Books, could be 
 ujiravelled. But when I understood, withal, that Thy 
 Spiritual sons, (whom Thou didst regenerate by the 
 Catholic Mother, through grace,) did not understand the 
 words -" Man created iji the Ima^e of God," as though 
 they believed Thee bounded by human shape; (although 
 what a spiritual substance should be I had not even a 
 faint or shadowy notion;), yet with joy I blushed at hav- 
 ing so many years barked, not against the Catholic faith, 
 but against the fictions of carnal imaginations. So rash 
 and impious had I been, that I had condemned ignorantly, 
 what I ought to have learned. For Thou, Most High, 
 and most near; most secret, and most present ; Who hast 
 not limbs, some larger, some smaller, but art wholly every 
 
88 COiVFESSIONS OF 
 
 where, and no where in space, art not of corporeal shape, 
 yet hast Thou made man after Thine own image ; and 
 behold, from head to foot is he contained in some place. 
 
 [IV.] 5. Being ignorant how this Thy image should 
 subsist, I should have knocked and proposed the doubt, 
 how it was to be believed, and not insultingly opposed it, 
 as if believed by others. Doubt, as to what to hold for 
 certain, the more sharply gnawed my heart, the more 
 ashamed I was, that so long deluded and deceived by the 
 promise of certainties, I had with childish error and 
 vehemence, prated of so many uncertainties. For that 
 they were falsehoods, became clear to me not yet. How- 
 ever, I was certain that they were uncertain, and that I 
 had formerly accounted them certain, when with a bliiid 
 contentiousness, I accused Thy Catholic Church, whom 
 I now discovered, not indeed as yet to teach truly, but at 
 least not to teach that, for which I had grievously censur- 
 ed her. So I was confounded, and converted : and I joyed, 
 
 my God, that the One Only Church, the body of Thine 
 Only Son, (wherein the name of Christ had been put 
 upon me as an infant,) had no taste for infantine con- 
 ceits ; nor in her sound doctrine, maintained any tenet 
 which «hould confine Thee, the Creator of all, in space, 
 however great and large,- yet bounded every where by the 
 limits of a human form. 
 
 6. I joyed, also, that (he old Scriptures of the Law and 
 the Prophets, were laid before me, not now to be perused 
 with that eye to which before they seemed absurd, when 
 
 1 reviled Thy holy ones for so thinking, whereas indeed 
 they thought not so : and vvith joy I heard Ambrose in 
 his sermons to the people, oftentimes most diligently re- 
 commend this text for a rule. The letter killeth, but the 
 
 I Spirit givcth life ; whilst he drew aside the mystic veil, 
 1 laying open spiritually what according to the letter, seem- 
 ;i ed to teach something unsound ; teaching herein nothing 
 that offended me, though he taught what I knew not as 
 yet, whether it were true. For I kept my heart from as- 
 senting to any thing, fearing to fall headlong ; but by 
 hanging in suspense I was the worse killed. For I wished 
 to be as assured of the things I saw not, as I was that 
 seven and three are ten. For I was not so mad, as to 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 89 
 
 think that even this could not be comprehended ; but I 
 desired to have other things as clear as this, whether 
 things corporeal, which were not present to my senses, or 
 spiritual, whereof I knew not how to conceive, except 
 corporeally. By helieving I might have been cured, and 
 the eye sight of my soul being cleared, might have been 
 directed to Thy truth, which abideth always, and in no 
 part faileth. But as he who has tried a bad physician, ' 
 fears to trust himself with a good one, so was it with my 
 soul, which could not be healed but by believing, and lest 
 it should believe falsehoods, refuse to be cured ; resisting 
 Thy hands, who hast prepared the medicines of faith, and 
 hast applied them to the diseases of the whole world, and 
 given unto them so great authority. 
 
 [V.] 7. Being led, however, from this, to prefer the 
 Catholic doctrine, 1 felt that her proceeding was more 
 unassuming and honest, in that she required to be be- 
 lieved things not demonstrated, (whether it was that they 
 could in themselves be demonstrated, but not to certain 
 persons, or could not at all be,) whereas among the Mani- 
 chees our credulity was mocked i>y a promise of certain 
 knowledge, ai;id then so many most fabulous and absurd 
 things were imposed to be believed, because they could 
 not be demonstrated. Then Thou, O Lord, little by lit- 
 tle, with a most sweet and merciful hand, didst order and 
 compose my Jieart, and persuade me to consider what in- 
 numerable things I believed, which I saw not, nor was 
 present while they were done ; so m^ny things in secular 
 history, so many reports of places and of cities, which I 
 had not seen ; so many of friends, of physicians, and of 
 others, which, unless we should believe, we should do 
 nothing at all in this life; las):ly, with how unshaken an 
 assurance I believed, of what parents I was born, which 
 I could not know, had I not believed upon hearsay. Thou 
 didst persuade me, by all these, that not they who believed 
 Thy Books, (which Thou hast established in so great au- 
 thority among almost all nations,) but they who believed 
 them not, were to be blamed ; and that they were not to 
 he heard, who should . say to me, " How knowest Thou 
 those Scriptures to have been imparted unto mankind by 
 tfie Spirit of the one true and most true God 1" P*or this 
 
90 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 very thing was of all most to be believed, since no con- 
 tentiousness of all that multitude of blasphemous ques- 
 tionings, which I had read in the self-contradicting philo- 
 sophers, could wring this belief from me, " That Thou 
 art" whatsoever Thou wert, (what I knew not,) and 
 " That the government of human things belongs to Thee." 
 
 8. This I believed, sometimes more strongly, more 
 weakly other-whiles ; yet I ever believed both that Thou 
 wert, and had a care of us ; though I was ignorant, both 
 what was to be thought of Thy substance, and what way 
 led towards Thee, or back to Thee. Since then we are 
 too weak to find out truth by abstract reasonings, and for 
 this very cause need the authority of Holy Writ, I began 
 to believe, that Thou wouldest never have given such ex- 
 cellency of authority to Scripture in all lands, hadst Thou 
 not willed thereby to be sought and believed in. For those 
 things, sounding strangely in the Scripture which were 
 wont to offend me, now being expounded satisfactorily, I 
 referred to the depth of the mysteries ; and its authority 
 appeared to me the more venerable, and more worthy of 
 religioiis credence, in that, while it lay open to all to read, 
 it reserved the majesty of its mysteries witliin its pro- 
 founder meaning ; stooping to all in the great plainness 
 of its words and lowliness of style, yet calling forth the 
 intensest application of such as are not light of heart ; 
 that so it might receive all in its open bosom, and through 
 narrow passages waft over towards Thee some few, yet 
 many more than if it stood not aloft on such a height of 
 authority, nor drew multitudes within its bosom by its 
 holy humility. These things I thought on, and Thou wert 
 with me; I sighed, and Thou heardest me; I wavered, 
 and Thou didst guide me ; I wandered through the broad 
 way of the world, and Thou didst not forsake me. 
 
 [VI.] 9. When I panted after honors, gains, marriage, 
 Thou didst laugh at me. In these desires I underwent 
 most bitter crosses. Thou being too gracious to suffer 
 aught to grow sweet to me which was not Thyself. Be- 
 hold my heart, O Lord, who wiliest I should remember all 
 this, and confess it to Thee. Let my soul cleave unto 
 Thee, now that Thou hast freed it from that fast-holding 
 birdlime of death. How wretched was it! but Thou 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 91; 
 
 didst wake up the sense of its wounds, that forsaking all 
 else, it might be converted unto Thee, who art above all, 
 and without whom all things would be nothing ; and so be 
 converted and healed. How miserable was 1, and how 
 didst Thou deal with me, to make me feel my misery, on 
 that day, when I was preparing to recite a panegyric of 
 the Emperor, wherein I was to utter many a lie, and to be 
 applauded by those who knew I lied, and my heart was 
 panting with anxieties, and boiling with the feverishness 
 of consuming thoughts. For, passing-through one of the 
 streets of Milan, I observed a poor beggar, (I suppose he 
 had just dined,) joking and joyous; and I sighed, and 
 spoke to the Iriends around me, of the sorrows of our 
 ambitions ; for by all such efforts ^s those wherein I then 
 toiled, dragging along the burthen of my own wretched- 
 ness, andj by dragging, augmenting it, I only sought the 
 joyousness of that beggar-man, but should never per- 
 chance attain it. What he had obtained by means of a 
 few begged pence, I was plotting for by many a toilsome 
 turning and winding— the joy of a temporary felicity. 
 Verily, his joy was not the true joy ; but yet I with ray 
 ambitious designs was seeking one much less true. For 
 he was joyous, I anxious ; he void of care, I full of fears. 
 But should any ask me, had I rather be merry or fearful 1 
 I would answer, merry. Again, if he asked had I rather 
 be such as he was, or what I then was ? I should choose 
 to be myself, though worn with cares and fears ; but would 
 this be wise and according to reason ? For 1 ought not to 
 prefer myself to him, because jtnore learned than he, see- 
 ing I had no joy therein, but sought only to please men 
 by it. Wherefore Thou didst break my bones with the 
 staff of thy correction. 
 
 IG. Away with those then from my soul, who say to her, 
 "It makes a difference whence a man's joy is. That beg- 
 gar-man was glad in drunkenness ; thou wouldest rejoice 
 in glory." What glory, O Lord ? Glory which is not in 
 Thee ; therefore no true glory : and it overthrew my soul 
 more than his false joy; For he that night would digest 
 his drunkenness ; but I had slept and risen again with 
 mine, and was to sleep again, and again to rise with it, 
 how many days, Thou, God, knowest. But " it doth 
 
93 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 make a difference whence a man's joy is." I know it, 
 and the joy of a faithful hope lieth incomparably beyond 
 vanity. Yea he was then beyond me ; verily he was the 
 happier ; not only because he was thoroughly drenched in 
 mirth, and I disembowelled in cares : but he, by fair 
 wishes, had gotten wine, and I, by lying, was seeking for 
 empty, swelling praise. Much to this purpose said I then 
 to my friends ; and I often marked in them what I now 
 felt, that when it went ill with me, I grieved, and doubled 
 that very ill ; and if any prosperity smiled on me, I was 
 loath to catch at it, for almost before I could grasp it, it 
 flew away. 
 
 [VII.] 1 1. These things we, who were living as friends^ 
 together, bemoaned together, but chiefly and most famil- 
 iarly did I speak thereof with Alypius and Nebridius. 
 Alypius was born in the same town with me, of persons 
 of chief rank there, but he was younger than I. He had 
 studied under me, both when I first lectured in our town, 
 and afterwards at Carthage, and he loved me much, be- 
 cause I seemed to him kind, and learned ; and I loved 
 him for his wit and virtue, which was eminent in one of 
 his years. Yet the whirlpool of Carthaginian habits had 
 drawn him into the madness of the Circus. And while 
 he was miserably tossed therein, and I, professing rhetoric 
 there in a public school, he neglected my teaching, by 
 reason of some unkindness risen betwixt his father and 
 me. Seeing how deadly he doted upon the Circus, I was 
 deeply grieved that he seemed likely to throw away so 
 great promise ; yet had I no means of advising, or with 
 constraint reclaiming him, either by the kindness of a 
 friend, or the authority of a master. For I supposed that 
 he thought of me as his father did ; but it was not so ; 
 and setting aside his father's mind in that matter, he began 
 to greet me, come sometimes into my lecture-room, heiai' 
 a little, and be gone. 
 
 12. I however had forgotten how to deal with him, that 
 he might notj through a blind and headlong desire of vain 
 pastimes, undo so good a wit. But Thou, O Lord, who 
 guidest the course of all Thou hast created, didst not for- 
 get him, who was one day to be among Thy children, 
 Priest and Dispenser of Thy Sacrament ; and that his 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 93 
 
 amendment might plainly be attributed to Thyself, Thoii 
 didst effect it through me, but unknowingly. For as one 
 day I sat in my accustomed place, with my scholars be- 
 fore me, he entered, greeted me, sat down, and applied 
 his mind to what I then handled. I had by chance a pas- 
 sage in hand, which while I Was explaining, a figure from 
 the Circensian races occurred to me, as likely to make 
 what I would convey pleasanter and plainer, seasoned with 
 biting mockery of those whom that madness had en- 
 thralled ; God, Thou knowest that I then thought not of 
 curing Alypius of that infection. But he took it wholly 
 to himself, and thought that I said it simply for his sake. 
 And what another would have taken as occasion of of- 
 fence'with me, that right-minded youth took as a ground 
 of being offended at himself, and loving me more fer- 
 vently. For Thou hadst said it long ago, and put it into 
 Thy book, Rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee. But 
 I ha<l not rebukisd him, but Thou, who employest all men, 
 knowing or not knowing, in that just ord'er which Thou 
 knowest, didst from my heart and tongue draw burning 
 coals, by which to set on fire and so cure the languishing 
 mind of this young man. Let him be silent in Thy 
 praises, who considers not Thy mercies. Out of my in- 
 most soul I confess them to me. Upon that speech, he 
 burst out of that pit so deep, wherein he was wilfully 
 plunged, blinded with its wretched pastimes ; and he 
 roused his mind with a strong self-command ; whereupon 
 the filths of the Circensian pastimes flew off from him, 
 nor returned ever. Soon he prevailed with his unwilling 
 father that he might be my scholar. He gave way, and 
 gave in. And beginning to be my hearer again, he was 
 involved in the same superstition with me, loving that 
 show of continency in the Manichees which he supposed 
 true and unfeigned. But it was a senseless and seducing 
 continency, ensnaring such preciousr souls as were unable 
 to reach the depth of virtue, and readily beguiled with the 
 surface of what was but a shadowy and counterfeit v'nU\e^ 
 
 [VIII.] 13. Not forsaking that secular course which 
 his parents had charmed him to pursue, Alypius had gone 
 before me to Rome, to study law, and there he was car- 
 ried away incredibly with an incl-edible eagerness after 
 8 
 
94 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 the shows of gladiators. For when at first utterly detest* 
 ing such spectacles, he was one day by chance met by 
 divers of his acquaintance and fellow-students coming 
 from dinner, who with a familiar violence haled him into 
 the Amphitheatre, during these cruel and deadly shows, 
 he resisting and thus protesting : " Though you hale my 
 body to that place, and there set me, can you force me 
 also to turn my mind or my eyes to those shows 1 I shall 
 then be absent when present, and so shall overcome both 
 you and them." They hearing this, led him on, neverthe- 
 less, desirous perchance to try whether he could do as he 
 said. When they were come thither, and had taken their 
 places as they could, the whole place kindled with that sav- 
 age pastime. But he, closing the passages of his eyes, 
 forbade his mind to range abroad after such evils ; and 
 would he had stopped his ears also ! For, in the fight, 
 when one fell, a mighty cry of the whole people striking 
 him strongly, overcome by curiosity, and as if prepared 
 to despise and be superior to it whatsoever it were, even 
 when seen, he opened his eyes, and was stricken with- a 
 deeper wound in hig soul, than the other, whom he desired 
 to behold, was in his body. Thus be fell more miserably 
 than he upon whose fall that mighty noise was raised, 
 which, entering through his ears, and unlocking his eyes, 
 did strike and beat down a soul, bold rather than resolute, 
 and the weaker, in that it had presumed on itself, which 
 ought to have relied on Thee. For so soon as he saw 
 that blood, he therewith drunk down savageness ; nor 
 turned away, but fixed his eye, drinking in frenzy, una- 
 wares, and was delighted with that guilty fight, and intox- 
 icated with the bloody pastime. Nor was he now the man 
 he can:ie, but one of the throna he came unto, yea, a true 
 associate of theirs that brought him thither. Why say more! 
 He beheld, shouted, kindled, carried thence with him the 
 madness which should goad him to return not only with 
 them who first drew him thither, but also before them, 
 yea, and to draw in others. Yet thence didst Thou with 
 a most strong and most merciful hand pluck him, and 
 taughtest him to have confidence not in himself, but in 
 Thee. But this was after. 
 
 [IX.] 14. All this was laid up in his memory to be S 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 95 
 
 Hnedicine hereafter. So also was this : when he was yet 
 studying under me at Carthage, and was thinking over at 
 mid-day in the market-place what he was to say by heart, 
 (as scholars are accustomed,) Thou sufferedst him to be 
 apprehended by the officers of the market-place for a 
 thief. For ho other cause, I deem, didst Thou, our God, 
 suffer it, but that he, who was hefoafter to prove so great 
 a man, should already begin to learn, that in judging of 
 causes, man was not readily and rashly to be condemned 
 by man. For as he was walking up and down by himself 
 before the judgment-seat, with his note-book and pen, lo, a 
 young man, a lawyer, the real thief, carrying a hatchet, 
 did secretly, unperceived by Alypius, enter in as far as 
 the leaden gratings, which feiice in the silversmiths' shops, 
 and began to cut away the lead. But the noise of the 
 hatchet beiflg heard, the silversmiths beneath began to 
 make a stir, and sent to apprehend whomever they should 
 find. The thief hearing their voices, ran away, and left 
 his hatchet, fearing to be taken with it. Alypius had not 
 seen him enter, but saw with what speed he made away ; 
 and being desirous to know the matter, entered the place, 
 where he found the hatchet, and was standing, wondering 
 and considering it. Those that had been sent, finding him 
 alone with the hatchet in his hand, the noise whereof had 
 startled and brought them thither, seized him, haled hira 
 away, and gathering the dwellers in the market-place to- 
 gether, boasted of having taken a notorious thief 
 
 15. Alypius needed this trial so far; but forthwith; O 
 Lord, Thou succoredst his innocency, whereof Thou 
 alone wert witness. For as he was led either to prison 
 or to punishment, a certain architect met themj who had 
 the chief charge of the public buildings. This man had 
 frequently seen Alypius at a certain Senator's house, to 
 whom he often went to pay his respects ; and recognizing 
 hira immediately, he took him aside by the hand, and 
 inquiring the occasion of so great a calamity, heard the 
 whole matter, and bade all present, amid much uproar 
 and threats, to go with him. It happened that they passed 
 the house of the young man, who had done the deed ; and 
 before the door was a boy so young, as to be likelyr not 
 apprehending any harm to his master, to disclose the 
 
96 CONl'ESSIONS OF 
 
 whole. Alypius remembered that this boy was with the 
 thief in the market-place, and told the architect, who, 
 showing the hatchet to the boy, asked him " Whose that 
 was 1" " Ours," quoth he, presently : and being further 
 questioned, he disclosed every thing. Thus the crime was 
 transferred to that house ; and the multitude, which had 
 begun to insult over Alypius, was ashamed ; and he who 
 was to be a dispenser of Thy Word, and an examiner of 
 many causes in Thy Church, went away experienced and 
 instructed. 
 
 [X.] 16. This Alypius I found at Rome, and he clave 
 to me by strong friendship, and went with me to Milan, 
 both that he might not leave me, and might practise some- 
 thing of the law; which he had studied to please his 
 parents, rather than himself. There he had thrice sat as 
 Assessor with an uncorruptness, much wondered at by 
 others, but he wondered at others rather, who could pre- 
 fer gold to honesty. His character was tried, not only 
 with the bait of covetousness, but with the goad of fear. 
 At Rome he was assessor to the Count of the Italian 
 Treasury. There was at that time a very powerful sena- 
 tor, to whose favors many stood indebted, and whom many 
 feared. He would needs do, by abuse of power, what by 
 the laws was unallowed. Alypius resisted him ; with all 
 his heart scorned his bribes ; and trampled upon his 
 threats; while all wondered at so unwonted a spirit, which 
 neither desired the friendship, nor feared the enmity of 
 one so great, and so mightily renowned for innumerable 
 means of doing good or evil. And the very Judge, in 
 whose court Alypius was, dared not openly refuse this 
 senator, alleging that Alypius would not allow him to do 
 as the senator wished. These are slight things, but Ae 
 that is faithful in little, is faithful also in much ; and 
 the mouth of Thy Truth hath said, If ye have not been 
 faithful in the unrighteous Mammon, who will commit to 
 your trust true riches 1 And if ye have not heen faithful 
 in that which is another man's, who shall give you what is 
 your oion? Such was the Alypius who did cleave to me, 
 aiid with me wavered in purpose, what course of life was 
 to be t^ken. 
 
 17. Nebridius also, who having left his native country 
 
BT. ADOUSTINE. 97 
 
 near Carthage, yea and Carthage itself, where he had 
 lived, on an excellent family-estate and house, with his 
 mother, had come to Milan, for no other reason, but that 
 with me he might live in a most ardent search after truth 
 and wisdom. Like me he sighed, like me he wavered, 
 an ardent searcher after true life, and a most acute exam- 
 iner of the most diffi;;ult questions. Thus were there the 
 mouths of three indigent persons, sighing out their wants 
 one to another, and waiting Upon Thee that Thou might- 
 est give them their meat in due season. And in all the 
 bitterness, which by Thy mercy followed our worldly af- 
 fairs, and in all the darkness that met us, when we turned 
 away groaning, and saying. How long shall these things 
 be ? Yet we forsook not our course, for as yet there 
 dawned nothing certain, which we might embrace. 
 
 [XI.] 18. And 1 wondered extremely, remembering 
 how much time was consumed ^ince my 19th year, when 
 I first began to kindle with desire of wisdom, resolving 
 to abandon all empty hopes and vain desires, when I 
 should find her. Lo ! now I was in my thirtieth year, 
 sticking in the same mire, greedy of enjoying present 
 things, and saying to myself, "To-morrow I shall find 
 wisdom ; it will appear manifestly, and I shall grasp it; 
 lo, Faustus, the Manichee will come, and clear every 
 thing! O you great men, ye Academicians, is it true, 
 then, that no certainty can be attained for the ordering of 
 life ? Nay, let me search the more diligently, and despair 
 not. Lo, things in the Scriptures are not absurd to me 
 now, which once seemed absurd, but may be understood 
 in a good sense. I will take my stand, where, as a child, 
 my parents placed me, until the clear trnth be found out. 
 But where, shallit, be sought or when ? Ambrose has no 
 leisure; I have no leisure to read ; where shall I find 
 even the books ? Whence, or when procure them ? from 
 whom borrow them 1 Shall set times be appointed, and 
 certain hours be ordered for the health of our soul ? Has 
 not great hope dawned 1 the Catholic Faith teaches not 
 what I thought, and accused it of; her instructed mem- 
 bers hold it profane, to believe God to be bounded by the 
 figure of a human body : and shall 1 d&ubt to " knock," 
 that the rest "maybe opened?" My scholars take up 
 8* 
 
98 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 my forenoons ; what do I the rest of the time ? Why not 
 this ? But can I also pay court to my great friends, 
 whose favor I need ? I compose what I may sell to 
 acholars? When shall I refresh myself from intenseness 
 of care?" 
 
 19. " Perish every thing, dismiss these empty vanities, 
 and betake myself to the one search for truth ! Life is 
 vain, death uncertain ; if it steals upon us on a sudden, 
 in what state shall we depart hence? and where shall we 
 learn what here we have neglected ? shall we not rather 
 suffer the punishment of this negligence 1 What, if death 
 itself cut off and end all care and feeling? This must be 
 ascertained. But God forbid this ! It is no vain and 
 empty thing, that the excellent dignity of the authority of 
 the Christian Faith hath overspread the whole world. 
 Never would such and so great things be by God wrought 
 for us, if with the death of the body, the life of the soul 
 came to an end. Wherefore do I delay then to abandon 
 worldly hopes, and give myself wholly to seek after God 
 and the blessed life? But wait! Worldly things are 
 pleasunt ; they have no small sweetness. I must not 
 lightly abandon them, when it is becoming easy to obtain 
 some station ; I have store of powerful friends ; if noth- 
 ing else offer, at least a presidentship may be given me, 
 and a wife with some money ; and this shall be the bound 
 of my desire. Many great men, and most worthy of im- 
 itation, have given themselves to the study of wisdom in 
 the state of marriage." 
 
 20. While I went over these things, and the winds 
 shifted and drove my heart this way and that, time passed 
 on, but I delayed to turn to the Lord; and from day to 
 day deferred to live in Thee, and so died in rnjself. Lov- 
 ing a happy life, I sought it not in its own place, but by 
 fleeing from it. I thought I should be too miserable, un^ 
 less folded in female arms; and of the medicine of Thy 
 mercy to cure that infirmity I thought not, not having ex- 
 perienced it. I supposed it to be in our own power; 
 (though in myself I did not find that power.) I did not 
 know what is written. None can be chaste unless Thou 
 give it ; and that Thou wouldest give it, if with inward 
 groanings I did knock at Thine ears, and with a settled 
 faith did cast my care on Thee. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 99 
 
 [XII.] 21. It was Alypius that kept me from marrying ; 
 alleging, that so we could by no means in leisure live to- 
 gether, seeking wisdom, as we had long desired. He 
 himself was even then most chaste, so that it was wonder- 
 ful ; and all the more, since in the outset of his youth he 
 had erred, but he had felt remorse and revolting at it, 
 had lived henceforth until now most continently. I op- 
 posed him with the examples of married men, who had 
 cherished wisdom, and served God acceptably, retaining 
 their friends and loving them faithfully. But I was far 
 short of these great spirits, and bound with the disciise of 
 the flesh, and its deadly sweetness, I drew along ray chain, 
 dreading to be loosed, and as if my wound had been 
 fretted, put back his good persuasions, as it were the hand 
 of one that would unchain me. Moreover, by me did the 
 serpent speak unto Alypius himself, by my tongue weav- 
 ing and laying in his path pleasurable snares, wherein, his 
 virtuous and fi-ee feet might be entangled. 
 
 22. For when he wondered that I, whom he esteemed 
 not slightly, should stick so fast in the birdlime of that 
 pleasure, as to protest, (so oft as we discussed it,) that I 
 could never lead a single life ; and urged in my defence, 
 when I saw him wonder, that there was great difference 
 between his momentary and scarce-remembered knowl- 
 edge of that life, which so he might easily despise, and 
 my continued acquaintance whereto, which needed only 
 that the honorable name of marriage were added ; and he 
 began also to desire to be married ; not as overcome with 
 desire of such pleasure, but out of curiosity. For he 
 would fain know, he said, what that should be, without 
 which my life would seem to me not life, but a punish- 
 ment. His mind, free from that chain, was amazed at 
 my thraldom ; and through that amazement went on to a 
 desire of trying it, thence to the trial itself, and thence, 
 perhaps, to sink into that bondage whereat he wondered, 
 seeing he was willing to make a covenant with, death ; and 
 he that loves danger, shall fall into it. For what honor 
 there be in a well-ordered married life, and family, moved 
 us but slightly. The habit of satisfying an insatiable ap- 
 petite tormented me, while it held me captive ; and an 
 admiring wonder led him captive. Thus were we, O 
 
100 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Most High, but Thou not forsaking our dust, hadst mercy 
 on us miserable, and didst come to our help, by wonder- 
 ous and secret ways. 
 
 [XIII.] 23. Continual effort was made to have me 
 married. I wooed, I was promised, chiefly through my 
 mother's pains, because once married, I was to be bap- 
 tized, and she rejoiced that I was daily more disposed 
 thereunto, and observed that her prayers, and Thy prom- 
 ises, were fulfilling in my faith. Then, verily, both at 
 my request and her own longing, with strong cries of 
 heart she daily begged of Thee, that Thou wouldest by a 
 vision discover unto her something concerning my future 
 marriage; but Thou wouldst not. She saw, indeed, cer- 
 tain vain and phanlastic things, such as the energy of the 
 human spirit, busied thereon, might bring together ; and 
 these she told me of, but not with that confidence she was 
 wont, when Thou shewedst her any thing. For she could, 
 she said, through a certain feeling, which in words she 
 could not express, discern betwixt Thy revelations, and 
 the dreams of her own soul. Yet the matter was pressed 
 on, and a maiden asked in marriage ; she was two years 
 under the fit age; but, as I liked her, I waited for her. 
 
 [XIV.] 24. And many of us friends conferring about, 
 and detesting the turbulent turmoils of human life, had 
 debated and now almost resolved on living apart from busi- 
 ness and the bustle of men ; and this was to be thus 
 obtained ; we were to bring whatever we might severally 
 procure, and make one household of all ; so that through 
 the truth of our friendship nothing should belong es- 
 pecially to any ; but the whole thus derived from all, 
 should as a whole belong to each, and all to all. We 
 thought there might be some ten persons in this society; 
 some of us were very rich, especially Romanianus, our 
 townsman, from childhood a very familiar friend of mine, 
 whom the grievous perplexities of his affairs had brought 
 up to court. He was the most earnest for this project; 
 and his voice was of great weight, because his ample es- 
 tate far exceeded any of the rest. We had settled, also, that 
 two annual officers, as it were, should provide all things 
 necessary, the rest being undisturbed. But when we becan 
 to consider whether the wives, which some of us already 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. - 101 
 
 had, and others hoped to have, would allow this, all that 
 plan, which was so well moulded, fell to pieces in our 
 hands, and was utterly dashed and cast aside. Thence 
 we returned to sighs, and groans, and to follow the broad 
 and beaten ways of the world. Many were the thoughts 
 in our heart, but Thy counsel standeth for ever. Out of 
 which counsel Thou didst laugh at ours, and prepared 
 Thine own; purposing to give us meat in due season, and 
 to open Thy hand, and to Jill our souls with blessing. 
 
 [XV.] 25. Meanwhile my sins were multiplied, and my 
 concubine being torn from my side as a hindrance to my 
 marriage, my heart which clave unto her, was torn and 
 wounded and bleeding. And she returned to Africa, 
 vowing unto Thee never to know any other man, leaving 
 with me our son. But I, miserable, who could not imi- 
 tate a very woman, and impatient, because not till after 
 two years was I to obtain my wife, and not being so much 
 a lover of marriage, as a slave to lust, procured another 
 concubine ; so, by the servitude of an endearing custom, 
 the disease of my soul was kept up and carried on in its 
 vigor, even augmented. This did not, however, comfort 
 me for the loss of the other, for whom I languished with 
 pains less acute, but more desperate. 
 
 [XVI.] 26. Praise be to Thee, glory to Thee, O Foun- 
 tain of mercies. As I was becoming more miserable, 
 Thou camest nearer. Thy right hand was continually 
 ready to pluck me out of the mire, and to wash mp 
 thoroughly, and I knew it not; nor did any thing call me 
 back from a yet deeper gulf of carnal pleasures, but the 
 fear of death, and of Thy judgment to come ; which, 
 amid all my changes, never departed from my breast. In 
 a dispute with my friends Alypius and Nebridius, of the 
 nature of good and evil, I held that Epicurus would have 
 won the palm, in my eyes, had I not believed, that after 
 death there remained a life for the soul, and places of re- 
 quital according to men's deserts, which Epicurus would 
 not believe. And I asked, " were we immortal, and to 
 live in perpetual bodily pleasure, without fear of losing 
 it, why should we not be happy ,-or what else should we 
 seek?" not knowing that great misery was involved in 
 this very thing, that, being thus sunk and blinded, I could 
 
102 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 not discern that light of excellence and beauty, to be em- 
 braced for its own sake, which the eye of flesh cannot 
 see, and which is seen by the inner man. Nor did I even 
 consider how it was, that I with pleasure discoursed on 
 such foul subjects, with ray friends; while, at the same 
 time, I could not be happy without these friends, even 
 amid abundance of carnal pleasures. These friends, I 
 loved for themselves only, and I felt that I was beloved of 
 them again, for myself only. 
 
 O crooked paths ! Woe to the audacious soul, which 
 hoped, by forsaking Thee, to gain some better thing \ 
 Tossed up and down, upon back, sides, and breast, it 
 fouad only pain, for Thou alone art rest. And behold. 
 Thou art at hand, and deliverest us from our wretched 
 wanderings, and placest us in Thy way, and dost comfort 
 us, and say, " Run ; T will carry you ; yea, I will carry 
 you through; beyond, also, will I carry you." 
 
St. AUGUSTINE. 103 
 
 THE SEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's tliirty-first year; he ia gradually extricated from Iiis errors, Kut still 
 witlimatcrial conceptions of God ; dided by an argument of Nel)ridius, he seen 
 titat tlio cause of sin lies in free-will } rejects tlie IVlitnichtean heresy, but cannot 
 allogellier embrace tlio doctrine, of tlie Church; recovered, from the belief in 
 Astrologyi but miserahly perplexed about the origin of evil, he is led 10 find in 
 the Plalonists the^eeds. of the doctrine of the Divinity of the Word, but not of 
 His humiliation; hence he obtains clearer notions, of God's majesty, but, not 
 knowing Christ td be the iVlediator, remains estranged from Him, all his doubts 
 removed by the study of Holy Scripture, especiaiiy St. Paul. 
 
 [I.] 1. My evil and abomiftable youth was now ended, 
 and I was passing into early manhood ; more defiled by 
 vain things as I grew in years, for I could not imagine 
 any substance but such as is wont to be seen with these 
 eyes. I did not think of Thee, O God, under tlie figure 
 of an human body ; since I began to hear aught of wis- 
 dom, I always ^.voided this ; and rejoiced to hace found 
 the same in the faith of our spiritual mother, Thy. Catho- 
 lic Church. But what else to conceive Thee I knew not. 
 A man, and such a man, I sought to conceive of Thee as 
 the sovereign, only, true God : and in my inmost soul did 
 believe Thee incorruptible, uninjurable, and unchanage- 
 able ; because though not knowing whence or how, yet I 
 saw plainly and was sure, that the corruptible must be in- 
 ferior to the incorruptible ; what could not be injured I 
 preferred, unhesitatingly to what could receive inj;;ry ; the 
 unchangeable to things subject to change. My heart pas- 
 sionately cried out against all phantoms, and with one 
 blow I sought to beat away from the eye of my mind all 
 that unclean troop which buzzed around it. But, alas ! 
 in the twinkling of an eye they gathered again thick 
 about me, flew against my face, and beclouded it, ' so that 
 though not under the form of the human body, yet was I 
 constrained to conceive of Thee (that incorruptible, un- 
 injurable, and unchangeable, which I preferred before the 
 corruptible, and injurable, and changeable) as being in 
 space, infused intp the world, or diiFused infinitely without 
 
104 CONFESSIONS op 
 
 it. Because whatsoever I conceived, deprived of this 
 space, seemed to me nothing, yea altogether nothing, not 
 even a void, as if a body were taken out of its place, and 
 the place should remain empty of any body at all, of earth 
 and water, air and heaven, yet would it remain a void 
 place, as it were a spacious nothing. 
 
 2. 1 then being thus gross-hearted, nor clear even to 
 rriyself, whatsoever was not extended over certain spaces, 
 nor diffused, nor condensed, nor swelled out, or did not 
 or could not receive some of these dimensions, I thought 
 to be altogether nothing. For over such forms as my eyes 
 are wont to range, did my heart then range : nor yet did 
 I see that this same notion of the mind, whereby I formed 
 those very images, was not of this sort, and yet it could 
 not have formed them, had not itself been sonie great 
 thing. Therefore did I endeaver to conceive of Thee, 
 Life of my life, as vast, through infinite spaces, on every 
 side penetrating the whole mass of the universe, and be- 
 yond it, every way, through unmeasurable boundless spa- 
 ces; so that the earth should have Thee, the heaven have 
 Thee, all things have Thee, and they be bounded in 
 Thee, and Thou bounded no where. For as the body of 
 this air which is above the earth, hindereth not the light 
 of the sun from passing through it, penetrating it, not by 
 bursting or by cutting, but by filling it vvholly, so I thought 
 the body not of heaven, air, and sea, only, but of the earth 
 too, pervious to Thee, so that in all its parts, the greatest 
 as the smallest, it admitted Thy presence, by a secret in- 
 spiration, within and without, directing all things which 
 Thou hast created. So I guessed, only as unable to con- 
 ceive. aught else, for this was false, for a greater part of 
 t?ie> earth would in that case contain a greater portion of 
 Thee, and a less, a lesser : and all things be full of 
 Thee, in such manner that the body of an elephant would 
 contain more of Thee than that of a sparrow, since it is 
 larger, and takes up more room ; and thus Thou wouldest 
 make the several portions of Thyself present unto the sev- 
 eral portions of the world, in fragments, large to the large, 
 little to the little. But such art not Thou, who as yet 
 hadst not enlightened my darkness. 
 [II.] 3. It was enough for me, Lord, to oppose to those 
 
ST. AUGUSTINB. 105 
 
 deceived deceivers, and dumb praters, vchat Nebridius 
 used to propound, while we were yet at Carthage, at which 
 all we that heard it were staggered : "That said nation 
 of darkness, which the Maiiichees are wont to set as an 
 opposing mass, over against God, what could it have done 
 unto God, had He refused to fight with it 1 If they an- 
 swer, ^ it would have done God some hurt,' then would 
 God be subject to injury and corruption : but if they say 
 ■" it could do God no hurt,' then there was no reason why 
 <jfod should fight with it ; and in such wise, as that a cer- 
 tain portion or member, or offspring of His very Substance, 
 should be mingled with opposed powers, and natures, not 
 created by God ; and be so far corrupted and changed to 
 the worse, as to be turned frotii happiness into misery, 
 and need assistance whereby it might be extricated arid 
 purified ; and that this offspring of God's Substance was 
 the soul, which, being enthralled, defiled, corrupted, the 
 Word, free, pure, and whole, might relieve ; that Word 
 Itself being still corruptible, because It was of one and 
 the same Substance. So, then, should they affirm that 
 God, whatsoever He is, that is, the Substance whereby 
 God is, was incorruptible, then were all these sayings 
 false and execrable'; but if corruptible, the very statement 
 showed it to be false and revolting." "rhis argument then 
 of Nebridius sufficed against those who deserved wholly 
 to be vomited out of the overcharged stomach ; for they 
 had no escape, without horrible blasphemy of heart and 
 tongue, thus thinking and speaking of 'Thee. 
 
 [III.] 4. But although -I held and was fully persuaded 
 that Thou, our Lord the true God, who madest not only 
 our souls, but our bodies, and not only our souls and bo- 
 dies, but all beings, and all things, wert undefilable and 
 unalterable, and in no degree mutable, yet I understood 
 not, clearly and without difficulty, the cause of evil. 
 Whatever it were, I perceived it was in such wise to be 
 sought out as should not constrain me to believe the im- 
 mutable God to be mutable, lest I should become the evil 
 I was seeking to understand. I sought it out, then, thus 
 far free from anxiety, certain of the untruth of what the 
 Manichees held, from whom I shrunk with my whole 
 heart : for I saw that through inquiring the origin of evil, 
 9 
 
106 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 they were filled with evil, iu that they preferred to thiuk 
 that Thy substance did suffer ill than their own did com- 
 mit it. 
 
 5. And I strained to perceive what I now heard^ that 
 free-will was the cause of our doing ill, and Thy just judg- 
 ment, of our suffering ill. But I was not able clearly to 
 discern it. So then endeavoring to draw my soul's vision 
 out of that deep pit, I was again plunged therein, and en- 
 deavoring often, I was plunged back as often. But this 
 raised me a little into Thy light, so that I knew as well 
 that I had a will, as that I lived : when then I did will or 
 nill any thing, I was most sure that no other than myself 
 did will and nill ; and I all but saw that there was the 
 cause of my sin. But what I did against my will, I saw 
 that I suffered rather than did, and I judged not to be my 
 fault, but my punishment; whereby, however, holding 
 Thee to be just, I speedily confessed myself to be not 
 unjustly punished. But again I said, Who made me? 
 Did not my God, who is not only good, but goodness 
 itself? Whence then came I to wilt evil and nill good, so 
 that I am thus justly punished ? who set this in me, and 
 ingrafted into me this plant of bitterness, seeing I was 
 wholly formed by my most sweet God ? If the devil were 
 the author, whence is that same devil ? And if he also by 
 his own perverse will, of a good angel became a devil, 
 whence, again, came in him that evil will, whereby he be- 
 came a devil, seeing the whole nature of angels was made 
 by that most good Creator ? By these thoughts 1 was 
 again sunk down and choked ; yet not brought down to 
 that hell of error, (where no man confesseth unto Thee,) 
 to think rather that Thou dost suffer ill, than that man 
 doth it. 
 
 [IV.] 6. For I was striving to find out the rest, having 
 already found that the incorruptible must needs be better 
 than the corruptible ; and whatsoever Thou wert, 1 con- 
 fessed Thee to be incorruptible. For never soul was, nor 
 shall be, able to conceive any thing which may be better 
 than Thou, who art the sovereign and the best good. But 
 since, most truly and certainly, the incorruptible is pre- 
 ferable to the corruptible, (as I did now prefer it,) then, 
 wert Thou not incorruptible, I could in thought have ar- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 107 
 
 rived at something better than my Grtd. Where then I 
 saw the incorruptible to be preferable to th6 corruptible, 
 there ought I to seek for Thee, and there observe "wherein 
 evil itself was ;" that is, whence corruption comes, by 
 which Thy substanc^e can by no means be impaired. For 
 corruption does no ways impair our God ; by no will, by 
 no necessity, by no unlooked-for chance : because He is 
 God, and what He wills is good, and Himself is, that good ; 
 but to be corrupted is not good. Thou art not constrained 
 to do any thing against Thy will, since Thy will is not 
 greater than Thy power ; as it would be were Thyself 
 greater than Thyself. For the will and power of God is 
 God Himself And what can be unlooked-for by Thee, 
 who knowest all things ? Nor is there any nature in 
 things, but Thou knowest it. And what should we more 
 say, " why that substance v.'hich God is should not be 
 corruptible," seeing if it were so, it should not be God ? 
 [v.] 7. And I sought, "whence is evil," and sought 
 in an evil way, and saw not the evil in my very search. I 
 set now before the sight of my spirit, the whole creation, 
 whatsoever we can see therein, (as sea, earth, air, stars, 
 trees, mortal creatures,) yea, and whatever in it we db not 
 see, as the firmament of heaven, all angels, moreover, and 
 all the spiritual inhabitants thereof But these very be- 
 ings, as though they were bodies, did my fancy dispose in 
 place, and I made one great mass of Thy creation, dis- 
 tinguished as to the kinds of bodies ; some, real bodies, 
 some, what myself had feigned for real spirits. And this 
 mass I made huge, not as it was, (vvhich I could not 
 know,) but as I thought convenient, yet every way finite. 
 But Thee, O Lord, I imagined on every part environing 
 and penetrating it, though every way infinite : as if there 
 were a sea every where, and on every side, through un- 
 measured space, one only boundless sea, and it contained 
 within it some sponge, huge, but bounded ; that sponge 
 must needs, in all its parts, be filled from that unmeasur- 
 able sea : so conceived I Thy creation, itself finite, full of 
 Thee, the Infinite ; and I said. Behold God, and behold 
 what God hath created ; and God is good, yea, most 
 mightily and incomparably better than all these : but yet 
 He, the Good, created them good ; and see how he envi- 
 
108 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 roneth and fulfills them. Where is evil, then, and whence 
 and how crept it in hither ? What is its root, and what 
 its seed ? If it hath no being, why do we fear and avoid 
 what is not ? Or, if we fear it idly, then is not that very 
 fear evil, whereby the soul is thus idly goaded and racked? 
 Yea, and so much a greater evil, if we have nothing to 
 fear, and yet do fear. Therefore, either evil which we 
 fear exists, or else our fear is evil. Whence is it, then? 
 seeing God, the Good, hath created all these things good. 
 He, indeed, the greater and chiefest Good, hath created 
 these lesser goods ; still both Creator and created, all are 
 good. Whence is evil .? Or, was there some evil matter 
 of which He made, and formed, and ordered it, yet left 
 something in it which He did not convert into good 1. 
 Why so then ? Had He no might to turn and change the 
 whole, so that no evil should remain in it, seeing He is All- 
 mighty ? Lastly, why would He make any thing at all of 
 it, and not rather by the same All-mightiness cause it not 
 to be at all ? Or, could it then be against His will ? Or, 
 if it were from eternity, why suffered He it so to be for 
 infinite spaces of times past, and was pleased so long after 
 to make something out of it? Or, if He were suddenly 
 pleased now to effect somewhat, this rather should the 
 Almighty have effected, that this evil matter should not 
 be, and He alone be, the whole, true, sovereign, and infi- 
 nite Good. Or, if it was not good that He who was good 
 should not also frame and create something that were 
 good, then, that evil matter being taken away and brought 
 to nothing. He might form good matter whereof to create 
 all things. For He should not be All-mighty, if he might 
 not create something good without the aid of that mat- 
 ter which Himself had not created. These thoughts I 
 revolved in my miserable heart, overcharged with most 
 gnawing cares, lest I should die ere I had found the 
 truth ; yet was the faith of Thy Christ our Lord and Sav- 
 ior, professed in the Church Catholic, firmly fixed in my 
 heart, in many points, although yet unformed, and fluctu- 
 ating from the rule of doctrine ; and my mind did not 
 utterly leave it, but rather daily took in more and more 
 of it. 
 
 8. By this time also had I rejected the lying divinations 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 109 
 
 and impious dotages of the astvologers. Let Thine own 
 mercies, out of my very inmost soul, confess unto Thee 
 for this also, O my God. For Thou, Thou altogether, 
 (for who else calls us back from the death of all errors, 
 Save the Life which cannot die, and the Wisdom whichj 
 needing no light, enlightens the minds that need it, 
 whereby the universe is directed, down to the whirling 
 leaves of trees?) Thou niadest provision for my obstinacy 
 wherewith I struggled against Vindicianus, an acute old 
 man, and Nebridius, a young man of admirable talents; 
 the first vehemently affirming, and the latter often (though 
 •with some doubtfulness) saying, " That there was no such 
 art whereby to foresee things to come ; but that men's 
 conjectures were a sort of lottery, aiid that out of many 
 things, which they said should come tb pass, some actually 
 did, unawares to them who spake it, who Stumbled upon 
 it through their oft speaking." Thou providedst then a 
 friend for me, no negligent consulter of the astrologers, 
 nor yet well skilled in those arts, but (as I said) a curious 
 consulter with them, and yet knowing something, which 
 he said he had heard of his father, which how far it went 
 to overthrow the estimation of that art, he knew not. 
 This man, then, Firminus by name, of liberal education, 
 and well taught in rhetoric, consulted me, his friend, what, 
 according to his so-called constellations, I thought on cer- 
 tain affairs of his, wherein his worldly hopes had risen ; 
 and I, who had now begun to incline towards Nebridius's 
 opinion, did not altogether refuse to conjecture, 'and tell 
 him what came into my unresolved mind ; but added, that 
 I was now almost persuaded, that -these were but empty 
 and ridiculous follies. Thereupon he told me, that his 
 father had been very curious in such books, and had a 
 friend as earnest in them as himself, who with jdint study 
 and conference fanned the flame of their affections of 
 these toys. So that they would observe the moments, 
 whereat the very dumb animals, which bred about their 
 houses, gave birth, and then observed the relative posi- 
 tion of the heavens, thereby to make fresh experiments 
 in this so-called art. He said then that he had heard of 
 his father, that when his mother was about to give birth 
 to him, a woman-servant of that friend of his father's, 
 9* 
 
110 CONFESSIONS or 
 
 was also with child, and it happened that both were de- 
 livered at the same instant ; so that the same constella- 
 tions, even to the minutest points, presided over the heir 
 as over the new-born slave. For so soon as the women 
 began to be in labor, they each gave notice to the other 
 what was fallen out in their houses, and had messengers 
 ready to send to one another, so soon as they had notice 
 of the actual birth, of which they had easily provided, 
 each in his own province, to give instant intelligence. 
 And the messengers of the respective parties met, he 
 avers, at such an equal distance from either house, that 
 neither of them could make out any difference in the po- 
 sition of the stars, or any other minutest points ; and yet 
 Firminus, born in a high estate in his parents' house, ran 
 his course through the gilded paths of life, was increased 
 in riches, raised to honors; whereas that slave continued 
 to serve his masters, without any relaxation of his yoke, 
 as Firminus, who knew him, told me. 
 
 9. Upon hearing and believing these things, told by one 
 of such credibility, all my resistance gave way ; and first 
 I endeavored to reclaim Firminus himself from that curi- 
 osity, by telling him, that upon inspecting his constella- 
 tions, I ought, if I were to predict truly, to have seen in 
 them, parents eminent among their neighbors, a noble 
 family in its own city, high birth, good education, liberal 
 learning. But if that servant had consulted me upon the 
 same constellations, since they were his also, I ought 
 again (to tell him too truly,) to see in them a lineage the 
 most abject, a slavish condition, and every thing else, 
 utterly at variance with the former. Whence, then, if I 
 spake the truth, I should, from the same constellations, 
 speak diversely, or if I spake the same, speak falsely : 
 thence it followed most certainly, that whatever, upon 
 consideration of the constellations, was spoken truly, was 
 spoken not out of art, but chance ; and whatever spoken 
 falsely, was not out of ignorance in the art, but the failure 
 of the chance. 
 
 10. An opening thus made, ruminating with myself on 
 the like things, that no one of those dotards, (who lived 
 by such a trade, and whom I longed to attack, and with 
 derision to confute,) might urge against me, that Firmi- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 111 
 
 nus had informed ine falsely, or his fether him ; I bent 
 my thoughts on those that are born twins, who for the 
 most part, come out of the womb so near one to other, 
 that the small interval, (how much force soever in the na- 
 ture of things folk may pretend it to have,) cannot be 
 noted by human observation, or be at all expressed in 
 those figures which the Astrologer is to inspect, that he 
 may pronounce truly. Yet they cannot be true : for 
 looking into the same figures, he must have predicted the 
 same of Esau and Jacob, whereas the -same did not hap- 
 pen to them. Therefore he must speak falsely ; or if 
 truly, then, looking into the same figures, he must not give 
 the same answer. Not by art, then, but by chance, would 
 he speak truly. For Thou, O Lord, most righteous 
 Ruler of the Universe, vifhile consulters and consulted 
 know it not, dost by Thy hidden inspiration effect that 
 the consulter should hear what, according to the hidden 
 deservings of soul, he ought to hear, out of the unsearch- 
 able depth of Tihy just judgment, to Whom let no man 
 say. What is this 1 Why that ? Let him not so say, for 
 he is man. 
 
 [VII.] 11. Now then, Omy Helper, hadst Thou loosed 
 me from those fetters : and I sought " whence is evil," 
 and found no way. But Thou sufferedst me not by any 
 fluctuations of thought to be carried away from the Faith 
 whereby I believed Thee both to be, and Thy substance 
 to be unchangeable, and that Thou hast a care of, and 
 wouldest judge men, and that in Christ, Thy Son, our 
 Lord, and the Holy Scriptures, which the authority of 
 Thy Catholic Church pressed upon me. Thou hadst set 
 the way of man's salvation, to that life which is to be after 
 this death. These things being safe and immovably set- 
 tled in my mind, I sought anxiously " whence was evil?" 
 What were the pangs of my teeming heart, what groans, 
 O my God 1 yet even there were Thine ears open, and I 
 knew it not : and when in silence I vehemently sought, 
 those silent contritions of my soul were strong cries unto 
 Thy mercy. Thou knewestwhat I suffered, and no man. 
 For, what was that which was thence through my tongue 
 distilled into the ears of my most familiar friends ? Did 
 the whole tumult of my soul, for which neither time nor 
 
112 CONCESSIONS or 
 
 utterance sufficed, reach them? Yet went up the whole 
 to Thy hearing, all which I roared out from the groanings 
 of my heart; and my desire was before Thee, and the 
 light of mine eyes was not with me ; for that was within, 
 I without : nor was that confined to place, but I was in- 
 tent on things contained in place, but there found I no 
 resting-place, nor did they so receive me, that I could 
 say, " It is enough," " it is well :" nor did they yet suffer 
 me to turn back, where it might be well enough wkh me. 
 For to these things was I superior, but inferior to Thee ; 
 and Thou art my true joy only when I am subjected to 
 Thee, and Thou subjectest to me only what Thou createdst 
 below me. And this was the true temperament, and mid- 
 dle region of my safety, to remain in Thy Image, and by 
 serving Thee, rule the body. But when I rose proudly 
 against Thee, and ran against the Lord with my neck, 
 loitK the thick bosses of my huchler, even these inferior 
 things were set above me, and pressed me down, and no 
 where was there respite or space of breathing. They 
 met my sight on all sides by heaps and troops, and the 
 images thereof presented themselves unsought, as I would 
 return to Thee, as if they would say unto me, " Whither 
 ,'goest- thou, unworthy and defiled?" And these things 
 had grown out of my wound ; for Thou " humblest the 
 proud like one that is wounded," and through my own 
 swelling was I separated from Thee; yea, my pride- 
 swollen face closed up mine eyes. 
 
 [VIII.] 12. But Thou, Lord, ahidest for ever, yet not 
 for ever art Thou angry with us ; because Thou pitiest 
 our dust and ashes, and it was pleasing in Thy sight to 
 reform my deformities ; and by inward goads didst Thou 
 rouse me, that I should be ill at ease, until Thou wert 
 manifested to my inward sight. Thus, by the secret 
 hand of Thy medicining, was my swelling abated, and 
 the troubled and bedimraed eyesight of my mind, by th6 
 smarting anointings of healthful sorrows, was from day to 
 day healed. 
 
 [IX.] 13. And Thou, willing first to shew me, how 
 Thou resistest the proud, hut givest grace unto tlie humble, 
 and by how great an act of Thy mercy Thou hadst traced 
 out to men the way of humility, in that Thy Word was 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 113 
 
 made flesh, and dwelt among men : — Thou procuredst for 
 me, by means of one puffed up with most unnatural pride, 
 certain books of the Platonists, translated from Greek 
 into Latin. And therein I read, not indeed in the very 
 words, but to the very same purpose, enforced by many 
 and divers reasons, that In the beginning was the word, 
 and the Word was with God, and the Word was God : 
 the Same was in the beginning with God; all things were 
 made by^ Him, and without Him was nothing made : that 
 which was made by Him is life, and the life was the light 
 of men, and the light shineth in the darkness, and the 
 darkness , comprehended it not. And that the soul of man, 
 though it bears witness to the light, yet itself is not that 
 light ; but the Word of God, being God, is that true light 
 that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. And 
 that He was in the world, and the world was made by 
 Him, and the world knew him not. But I read not in the 
 books of the Platonists, that He came unto His own, and 
 His own received Him not ; but as many as received Him, 
 to them gave He power to become the sons of God, as many 
 as believed in His name. 
 
 14. Again I read there, that God the Word was born 
 not of fiesh nor of blood, nor of the will of man, nor of 
 the will of the flesh, but of God. But I read not there that 
 the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. For I 
 traced in those books, that it was many and divers ways 
 said, that the Son was in the form of the Father, and 
 thought it not robbery to be equal with God, for that natu- 
 rally He was the Same Substance. But I found not in 
 those books that He emptied himself , taking the form of a 
 servant, being made in the likeness of men, and found in 
 fashion as a man, humbled Himself, and became obedient 
 unto death, and that the death of the cross ; wherefore God 
 exalted Him from the dead, and gave Him a name above 
 every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should 
 bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things 
 under the earth ; and that every tongue should confess that 
 the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father. 
 For that before all times and above all times. Thy Only- 
 liegotton Son remaineth unchangeably, co-eternal with 
 Thee, and that of his fullness souls receive, that they may 
 
114 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 be blessed; and that by participation of wisdom abiding 
 in them, they are renewed, so as to be wise is there. But 
 that in due time He died for the ungodly : and that Thou 
 sparedst not Thine Only Son, but deliver edst Him for us 
 all, is not there. For Thou hiddest these things from the 
 wise, and revealedst them to babes ; that they that labor 
 and are heavy laden, might come unto Him, and He re- 
 fresh them, because He is meek and lowly in heart : and 
 the meek He directeth in judgment, and the gentle He 
 teacheth His ways, beholding our lowliness and troubie, 
 and forgiving all our sins. But such as are lifted up in 
 the lofty walk of some would-be sublimer learning, hear 
 not Him, saying. Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly 
 in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls. Although 
 they knew not God, yet they glorify Him not as God, nor 
 are thankful, but wax vain in their thoughts ; and their 
 foolish heart is darkened ; professing that they were wise, 
 they became fools. 
 
 14. And therefore did I read there also, that they had 
 changed the glory of Thy incorruptible nature into idols 
 and divers shapes, into the likeness of the image of corrupt- 
 ible man, and birds, and beasts, and creeping things; 
 namely, into that Egyptian food, for which Esau lost his 
 birth-right, for that Thy first-born people worshipped the 
 head of a four-footed beast instead of Thee ; turning in 
 heart back towards Egypt ; and bowing Thy image, their 
 own soul, before the image of a calf that eateth hay. 
 These things found I here, but I fed not on them. For 
 it pleased Thee, O Lord, to take away the- reproach of 
 diminution from Jacob, that the elder should serve the 
 younger : and Thou calledst the Gentiles into Thine in- 
 heritance. And I had come to Thee from among the 
 Gentiles ; and I set my mind upon the gold which Thou 
 willedst Thy people to take from Egypt, seeing Thine it 
 was, wheresoever it were. And to the Athenians Thou 
 saidst by Thy Apostle, that in Thee we live, move, and 
 have our being, as one of their own poets had said. Atii 
 verily these books came from thence. But I set not my 
 mind on the idols of Egypt, whom they served loith Thy 
 gold, who changed the truth of God into a lie, and wor- 
 shipped and served the creature more than the Creator. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 115 
 
 [X.J 16. And being thence admonished to return to 
 myself, I entered even into my inward soul, Thou being 
 my Guide : and I was able to do so, because Thou wert 
 become my helper. And I entered and beheld with the 
 eye of my soul, (such as it was,) even beyond my soul, 
 beyond my mind, — the Light unchangeable. Not this 
 ordinary light, subject to the sense of flesh and blood, nor 
 a greater of the same kind, as though the brightness of 
 this should be manifold brighter, and with its greatness 
 take up all space : not such was this light, but far differ- 
 ent from all these. Nor was it above my sou], as oil is 
 above water, nor yet as heaven above earth ; but above my 
 soul, because It made me ; and I below It, because I was 
 made by It. He that knows the Truth, knows what that 
 Light is ; and he that knows It, knows eternity ; and Love 
 knoweth it. O Truth Who art Eternity ! and Love Who 
 art Truth ! and Eternity Who art Love ! Thou art my 
 God, to Thee do I sigh night and day. When I first knew 
 THee, Thou liftedst me up, that I might see there was 
 somewhat for me to see, and that I was not yet such as to 
 see. And Thou, streaming forth Thy beams of light upon 
 me most strongly, didst beat back the weakness of ray 
 sight, and I trembjed with love and awe : and I perceived 
 myself to be far off from Thee, in the region of unlike- 
 ness, as if I he;ard this Thy voice from on high : "I am 
 the food of grown men ; grow, and thou shalt feed upon 
 Me ; nor shalt thou convert Me, like the food of thy flesh, 
 into thee, but thou shalt be converted into Me." And I 
 learned, that Thou for iniquity chastened man, and Thou 
 modest my soul to consume away like a spider. And I said, 
 " Is Truth therefore nothing because it is not diffused 
 through space finite or infinite? And Thou criedst to 
 me from afar; " Yea, verily, I AM that I AM. And I 
 heard, as the heart heareth, nor had I room to doubt, and 
 I should sooner doubt that I live, than Uiat Truth is not, 
 which is , clearly seen being understood by those things 
 which are made. 
 
 [XL] 17. And I beheld the other things below Thee, 
 and I perceived that they neither altogether are, nor alto- 
 gether are not; for they arc, since they are from Thee, 
 but are not, because they are not what Thou art. For 
 
116 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 that truly is, which remains unchangeably. It is good 
 then for me to held fast unto God; for if I remain not 
 in Him, I cannot in myself; but He remaining in Him- 
 self, renewethall things. And Thou art the Lord my God, 
 since Thou standest not in need of my goodness. 
 
 [XII.] 18. And it was manifested unto me, that those 
 things be good which yet are corrupted ; which neither 
 were they sovereignly good, nor unless they were good, 
 could be corrupted : for if sovereignly good, they were 
 incorruptible, if not good at all, there were nothing in 
 them to be corrupted. For corruption injures, but unless 
 it diminished goodness, it could not injure. Either then 
 corruption injures not, which cannot be ; or which is most 
 certain, all which is corrupted is deprived of good. But 
 if they be deprived of all good, they shall cease to be. 
 For if they shall be, and can now no longer be corrupted, 
 they shall be better than before, because they shall abide 
 incorruptibly. And what more monstrous, than to affirm 
 things to become better by losing all their good ? There- 
 fore, if they shall be deprived of all good, they shall no 
 longer be. So long therefore as they are, they are good : 
 therefore, whatsoever is, is good. That evil then which 
 I sought, whence it is, is not any substance : for were it 
 a substance, it should be good. For either it should be 
 an incorruptible substance, and so a chief good, or a cor- 
 ruptible substance ; which unless it were good, could not 
 be corrupted. I perceived, therefore, and it was mani- 
 fested to me, that Thou madest all things good, nor is 
 there any substance at all which Thou madest not ; and 
 because Thou madest not all things equal, therefore are 
 many things; for each is good, and altogether very good, 
 because our God made all things very good. 
 
 [XIII.] 19. And to Thee is nothing whatsoever evil : 
 yea, not only to Thee, but also to Thy creation as a whole, 
 because there is nothing without, which may breakin and 
 corrupt that order which Thou hast appointed. But in 
 the parts thereof, some things, because unharmonizing 
 with other some, are accounted evil : whereas those very 
 things harmonize with others, and are good, and in them- 
 selves are good. And all these things which harmonize 
 not together, harmonize with the inferior part, which we 
 
■ST. AUGUSTINE. 117 
 
 call Earth, which has its own cloudy and windy sky har- 
 monizing with it. Far be it then that I should say, 
 "These things should not be;" for should I see nought 
 but these, I should indeed long for the better ; but still 1 
 must even for these alone praise Thee ; for that Thou art 
 to be praised, is shown from the earth, dragons, and all 
 deeps, fire, hail, snow, ice, and stormy wind, which fulfil 
 Thy word ; mountains, and all hills , fruitful trees, and 
 ■all cedars ; beasts, and-all cattle, creeping things, and fly- 
 ing fowls ; kings of the earth, and all people, princes, 
 •and all judges of the earth ; young men and maidens, old 
 men and young, praise Thy name. But when, from heaven, 
 these praise Thee, praise Thee, our God, in the heights, 
 all Thy angels, all Thy hosts, sun and moon, all the stars 
 and light, the Heaveri of heavens, and the waters that 
 be above the heavens, praise Thy Name ; I did not now 
 long for things better, because I conceived of all ; and 
 with a sounder judgment I apprehended that the things 
 above were better than these below, but all together bet- 
 ter than those above by themselves. 
 
 [XIV.] 20. There is no soundness in them, whom 
 aught of Thy creation displeaseth : as neither in me, when 
 much which Thou hast made, displeased me. And be- 
 cause my soul durst not be displeased at my God, it would 
 fain not account that Thine, which displeased it. Hence 
 it had gone into the opinion of two substances, and had 
 no rest, but talked idly. And returning thence, it had 
 made to itself a God, through infinite measures of all 
 space ; and thought it to be Thee,- and placed it in its 
 heart ; and had again become the temple of its own idol, to 
 Thee abominable. But after Thou hadst soothed my 
 head, unknown to me, and closed mine eyes that they 
 should not behold vanity, I ceased somewhat of my for- 
 mer self, and my frenzy was lulled to sleep ; and I awoke 
 in Thee, and saw Thee infinite, but in another way, and 
 this sight was not derived from the flesh. 
 
 [XV.] 21. And I looked back on other things; and I 
 saw that they owed their being to Thee ; and were all 
 bounded in Thee ; bat in a different way, not as being in 
 space, but because Thou containest all things in Thine 
 hand in Thy truth ; and all things are true so far as they 
 10 
 
118 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 be; nor is there any fa]sehood,unless when that is thought 
 to be which is not. And I saw that all things did har- 
 monize, not with their places only, but with their seasons. 
 And that Thou, who only art Eternal, didst not begin to 
 work after innumerable spaces of times spent ; for that 
 all spaces of times, both which have passed, and which 
 shall pass, neither go nor come but through Thee, work- 
 ing, and abiding. 
 
 ,' [XVI.] 22. And I perceived and found it nothing 
 strange, that bread, which is pleasant to a healthy palate, 
 is loathsome to one distempered ; and to sore eyes light 
 is oiiensive, which to the sound is delightful. And Thy 
 righteousness displeaseth the wicked ; much more the vi- 
 pers and reptiles, which Thou hast created good, fitting , 
 in with the inferior portions of Thy Creation, with which 
 the very wicked also fit in, and that the more, by how 
 much they be unlike Thee ; but with the superior crea- 
 tures, by how much' they become more like to Thee. And 
 I inquired what iniquity was, and found it to be no sub- 
 stance, but the perversion of the will from Thee, O God, 
 the Supreme, towards these lower things, and casting out 
 Ms bowels, and puffed up outwardly. 
 
 [XVII.] 23. And I wondered that I now loved Thee, 
 and no phantasm for Thee. And yet did I not press on 
 to enjoy my God ; but was borne up to Thee by Thy 
 beauty, and soon borne down from Thee by mine own 
 weight, sinking with sorrow into inferior things. This 
 weight was carnal custom. Yet dwelt there with me a 
 remembrance of Thee ; nor did I any way doubt that 
 there was One to Whom I might cleave, but that I was 
 not yet such as to cleave to Thee ; for that the body which 
 is corrupted, presseth down the soul, and the earthly taber- 
 nacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things. 
 And most certain I was, that Thy invisible works from 
 the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood 
 by the things that are made, even Thy eternal power and 
 Godhead. For, examining wheuce it was that I admired 
 the beauty of bodies celestial or terrestrial, and what aided 
 me in judging soundly on things mutable, and pronounc- 
 ing, "This ought to be thus, this not;" examining, I 
 say, wheace it was that I so judged, seeing I did so judge. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 119 
 
 I had found the unchangeable and true Eternity of Truth; 
 above my changeable mind. And thus by degrees, I 
 passed from bodies to the soul, which through the bodily 
 senses perceives ; and thence to its inward faculty, to 
 which the bodily senses represent things external, whith- 
 erto reaches the faculties of beasts; and theiice again to 
 the reasoning faculty, to which what is received from the 
 senses of the body, is referred to be judged. Which, 
 finding itself also to be in me a thing variable, raised it' 
 self up to its own understanding, and drew away my 
 thoughts from the power of habit, withdrawing itself from 
 those troops of contradictory phantasms, that so it might 
 find what that light was whereby it was bedewed, when, 
 without all doubting, it cried out, " That the unchange- 
 able was to be preferred to the changeable ;" whence also 
 it knew That Unchangeable, which, unless it had in some 
 way known, it had had no sure ground to prefer it to the 
 changeable. And thus with the flash of one trembling 
 glance it arrived at That Which Is. And then I saw 
 Thy inmsibie things iinderstooS,' by the things wJiich are 
 made. Bat I "could not fix my gaze thereon ; and my in- 
 firmity bieihg struck back, 1 was thrown again on my 
 wonted habits, carrying along with nie only a loving mem- 
 ory thereof, and a longing for what I had, as it were, per- 
 ceived the odor of, but was riot yet able to feed on. 
 
 [XVIII.] 24. Then I sought a way of obtaining strength 
 sufficient to enjoy Thee ; and found it not, until I em- 
 braced that Mediator betwixt Qod and men, the Man 
 Christ Jesus, who is over all, God blessed for ever more, 
 calling unto me, and saying,/ am the way, the truth, and 
 the life, and mingling that food which I was unable to re- 
 ceive, vvith ou'r flesh. For the Word was made Flesh, 
 that Thy wisdom, ^ whereby Thou createdst all things, 
 might provide milk for our infant state. For, not being 
 humbled, I did not understand the humiliation of my Lord 
 Jesus Christ ; nor knew I yet whereto His iinfirmity would 
 guide us. For Thy Word, the Eternal Truth, being cre- 
 ated above Thy highest creatures, raises up the subdued 
 unto Itself: in this lower world It built for Itself a lowly 
 habitation of our clay, whereby to abase from themselves 
 such as would be subdued, and bring them over to Hiln- 
 
120 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 self; allaying their swelling pride, and fomenting their 
 love, that they might go on no further in self-confidence, 
 but.rather consent to become weak, on seeing at their feet 
 the Divinity, infirm by having taken our coats of sJcin.^ 
 and wearied, that they might cast themselves down upon 
 It, and It, rising, might lift them up. 
 
 [XIX.] 25. But I thought otherwise ; conceiving only 
 of my Lord Christ, as of a man of excellent wisdom, whom 
 no one could be equalled unto ; especially for that being 
 wonderfully born of a Virgin, He seemed, in conformity 
 therewith, through the Divine care for us, to have attained 
 that great eminence of authority, for an ensample of des- 
 pising things temporal for the obtaining of immortality. 
 But what mystery there lay in " 'I he Word was made 
 flesh," I could not even imagine. Only I bad learnt out 
 of what is delivered to us in Scripture of Him, that He 
 did eat and drink, sleep, walk, rejoice in spirit, was sor- 
 rowful, discoursed : that, flesh did not cleave by itself 
 unto Thy Word, but with the human soul and mind. All 
 know this, who know the unchangeableness of Thy 
 Word, which I now knew, as far as I could, nor did I at 
 all doubt thereof For, now to move the limbs of the 
 body by will, now not ; now to be moved by some affec- 
 tion, now not; now to deliver wise sayings through hu- 
 man signs, now to keep silence ; belong to soul and mind 
 subject to variation. And should these things be falsely 
 written of Him, all the rest also would risk the charge, 
 nor would there remain in those books any saving faith 
 for mankind. Since then they were written truly, 1 ac- 
 knowledged a perfect man to be in Christ; not the body 
 of a man only, nor, with the body, a sensitive soul with- 
 out a rational, but very man ; whom, not only as being a 
 form of Truth, but for a certain great excellency of hu- 
 man nature and a more perfect participation of wisdom, 
 I judged to be preferred before others. But Alypius im- 
 agined the Catholics to believe God to be so clothed with 
 flesh, that besides God and flesh, there was no soul at all 
 in Christ, and did not think that a human mind was as- 
 cribed to Him. And because he was well persuaded that 
 the actions recorded of Him could only be performed by 
 a vital and a rational creature, he moved the more slowly 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 
 
 12l 
 
 towards the Christian Faith. But understanding after- 
 wards that this was the error of the ApoUinarian heretics, 
 he joyed in and was conformed to the Catholic Faith. -But 
 somewhat later, I confess, did I learn, how in that say- 
 ing. The Word was made flesh, the Catholic Truth is dis- 
 tinguished from the falsehood of Photinius. For the re- 
 jection of heretics makes the tenets of Thy Church and 
 sound doctrine to stand out more clearly. For there must 
 also be heresies, that tUe approval may he made m^ctnifest 
 among the weak. 
 
 [XX.] 26. But having then read those books of the 
 Platonists, and thence been taught to search for incorpo- 
 real truth, I saw Thy invisible things, understood by those 
 things which are made ; and though cast back, I perceived 
 what that was, which through the darkness of my mind I 
 was hindered from contemplating, being assured, " That 
 Thou wert, and wert infinite, arid yet not diffused in 
 space, finite or infinite ; and that Thou truly art who art 
 the same ever, in no part nor motion, varying ; and that 
 all other things are from Thee, on this most sure ground 
 alone, that they are. Of these things I was assured, yet 
 too unsure to enjoy Thee. I prated as one well skilled ; 
 but had I not sought Thy way in Christ our Savior, I had 
 proved to be, not skilled, but killed. For now I had be- 
 gun to wish to seem wise,' being filled with mine own pun- 
 ishment, yet I did not mourn, but rather Scorn, puffed up 
 with knowledge. For where was that charity building upon 
 the foundation of humility, which is Christ Jesus ? or 
 when should these books teach me it? Upon these, I be- 
 lieve. Thou therefore willedst that I should fall, before I 
 studied Thy Scriptures, that it might be imprinted on my 
 memory how I was affected by them ; and that afterwards 
 when my spirits were tamed through Thy books, and my 
 wounds touched by Thy healing fingers, I might discern 
 and distinguish between presumption and confession ; be- 
 tween those who saw whither they were to go, yet saw not 
 the way, a way which leadeth not merely to behold the 
 beatific country, but to dwell in it. For had I first been 
 formed in Thy Holy Scriptures, and hadst Thou, in the 
 familiar use of them, grown sweet unto me, and had I 
 then fallen upon those other volumes, they might perhaps 
 10* 
 
122 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 have withdrawn me from the solid ground of piety,- or, 
 had I continued in that healthful frame which I had thence 
 imbibed, I might have thought, that it might have been 
 obtained by the study of those books alone. 
 
 [XXI.] 27. Most eagerly then did I seize that venera- 
 ble writing of Thy Spirit ; and chiefly the Apostle Paul. 
 Whereupon those difficulties vanished away, wherein he 
 once seemed to me to contradict himself, and the text of 
 his discourse not to agree with the testimonies of the Law 
 and the Prophets. And the face of that pure word ap- 
 peared to me one and the same ; and I learned to rejoice 
 with trembling. So I began ; and whatsoever truth I had 
 read in those other books, I found here amid the praises 
 of Thy Grace ; that whoso sees, may not so glorp as if 
 he had not received, not only what he sees, but also- that 
 he sees, (for what hath he, which he hath not received ?) 
 and that he may be not only admonished to behold Thee, 
 ' Who art ever the same, but also being healed, to hold 
 Thee; and that he ivho cannot see afar off, may yet walk 
 on the way, whereby he may arrive, and behold, and hold 
 Thee. For, though a man le delighted with the law of 
 God after the inner man, what shall he do with that other 
 law in his members which warreth against the lata of his 
 mind, and hringeth him into captivity to the law of sin 
 which is in his members 7 For, Thou art righteous, 
 Lord, but loe have sinned and committed iniquity, and have 
 done wickedly, and Thy hand is grown heavy upon us, and 
 we are justly delivered over unto that ancient sinner, the 
 king of death ; who persuaded our will to be like his will, 
 whereby he abode not in Thy truth. What shall wretched 
 man do ? who shall deliver him from the body of this 
 death, but only Thy Grace, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord, whom Thou hast begotten co-eternal, a.ndformedst 
 in the beginning, in whom the prince of this world found 
 notJiing worthy of death, yet killed he Him ; and the 
 handwriting which was contrary to us, was blotted out ? 
 This the Platonic writings contain not. Those pages 
 present not the image of this piety, the tears of confes- 
 sion. Thy sacrifice a troubled spirit, a broken and a con- 
 trite heart, the salvation of the people, the Bridal City, 
 the earnest of the Holy Ghost, the Cup of our Redemption. 
 
»T. AUGUSTINE. 123 
 
 No man sings there, Shall not my soul he submitted unto 
 God ? for of Him comeih my salvation. For He is my 
 God and my salvation, my guardian ; I shall no more be 
 moved. No one hears him call, in those books, Come unto 
 me all ye that labor. They scorn to learn of Him, be- 
 cause He is meek and lowly in heart ; for these things hast 
 Tliou hid from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed 
 them unto babes. For it is one thing, from tljg^jftgjjyjtain's 
 sha ggy top to see the raHd"'trf"''pSace7Tind to find np way 
 tTiitherj_3n.4JiiJtaSLia:SJtr^eH»waTds if, in ways beset by 
 •fffgltives and deserters, and opposed by their captain, the 
 Vw'ji and'T h e"iiriTgSfn"'and another thing to teep on the 
 way that leads ffirJgfyXgua'^'Jpd by the hKjsts of the heav- 
 enly General ; where they spoil not who have deserted the 
 heavenly army"; for they avoid it, as very torment. l"'hese 
 things did wonderfully sink into my bowels, whilst I read 
 that least of Thy Apostles, and meditated upon Thy 
 works, and trernbled exceedingly. 
 
124 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 THE EIGHTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine's lliirty-second year. He consults Simplicianus, from him hears tho 
 history of tho conversion of Victorinus, and longa to devote himself entirely to 
 God, but is mastered by his old habits ; is still further roused by the history of 
 St. Antony, and the conversion of two courtiers ; during a sftvors struggle, 
 hears a voice from heaven, opens Scripture, and is converted, with his friend 
 Alypius. His mother's vision fulfilled. 
 
 [I.] O my God, let me, with thanksgiving, remember, 
 and confess unto Thee Thy mercies on me. Let my 
 bones be bedewed with Thy love, and let them say unto 
 Thee, Who is like unto Thee, O Lord ? Thou hast Iroken 
 my bonds in sunder, I will offer unto Thee the sacrifice of 
 thanksgiving. And how Thou hast broken them, I will 
 declare ; and all who worship Thee, when they hear this, 
 shall say, " Blessed be the Lord, in heaven and in earth, 
 great and wonderful is his name." Thy words had stuck 
 fast in my heart, and I was hedged round about on all 
 sides by Thee. Of Thy eternal life I was now certain, 
 though I saw it in a figure and as through a glass. Yet 
 I had ceased to doubt that there was an incorruptible 
 substance, whence was all other substance; nor did I 
 now desire to be more certain of Thee, but more stedfast 
 in Thee. As to my temporal life, all was wavering, and 
 my heart had to he purged from the old leaven. The Way, 
 (the Savior Himself,) well pleased me, but as yet I shrunk 
 from going through its straitness. Then Thou didst put 
 into my mind, and it seemed good in my eyes, to go to 
 Simplicianus, who seemed to me a good servant of Thine ; 
 and Thy grace shone in him. I had heard, also, that from 
 his very youth he had lived most devoted unto Thee. 
 Now he was grown into years ; and by reason of so great 
 age spent in such zealous following of Thy ways, he 
 seemed to me likely to have learned much experience ; 
 and so he had. Out of which store, I wi-shed that' he 
 would tell me, (setting before him my anxieties,) which 
 were the fittest way for one in my case to walk in Thy 
 paths. 
 
 2. For, I saw the church full ; and one went this way, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 125 
 
 and another that way. But I was displeased, that I led a 
 secular life ; yea, my hopes of honor and profit no longer 
 spurring me on, a very grievous burthen it was to under- 
 go so heavy a bondage. For, in comparison of Thy 
 sweetness, and the beauty of Thy house which I loved, 
 those things delighted me no longer. But still I was en- 
 thralled with the love of woman ; nor did the Apostle 
 forbid me to marry, although he advised me to something 
 better, chiefly wishing that all men were as himself was. 
 But I being weak, chose the more indulgent place; and 
 because of this alone, was tossed up and down in all be- 
 side, faint and wasted with withering cares, because in 
 othei matters, I was constrained against my will, whilst I 
 obliged myself to undertake a married life, to whi&h I was 
 so much enthralled. I had heard from the mouth of the 
 Truth, that there were some eunuchs, which had made 
 themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake : but, 
 saith He, let him who can receive it receive it. Surely 
 vain are all men who are ignorant of God, and could not 
 out of the good things which are seen, find out Him who is 
 good. But I was no longer in the vanity ; I had sur- 
 mounted it ; and by the common witness of all Thy crea- 
 tures, had found Thee our Creator, and Thy Word, God 
 with Thee, and together with Thee one God, by whom 
 Thou createdst all things. There is yet another kind of 
 ungodly, who knovnng God, glorified Him not as God, 
 neither leere thankful. Into this also had I fallen, but 
 Thy right hand upheld me, and took me thence, and Thou 
 placedst me where I might recover. For Thou hast said 
 unto man. Behold, the fear of the Lord is wisdom, and, 
 Desire not to seem toise ; because they who affirmed them- 
 selves to be wise, became fools. But I hud now found the 
 goodly pearl, which, selling all that I had, I ought to have 
 bought, and I hesitated. 
 
 [II.] 3. To Simplicianus then I went, the spiritual 
 father of Ambrose, (a Bishop now,) and whom Ambrose 
 truly loved as a father. To him I related the mazes of 
 my wanderings. But when I mentioned that I had read 
 certain books of the Platonists, which Victorinus, some- 
 time Rhetoric Professor of Rome, (who had died a 
 Christian, as I had heard,) had translated into Latin, he 
 
126 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 testified his joy that I had not fallen upon the writings of 
 other philosophers, full of fallacies and deceits, after the 
 rudiments of this world, whereas the Platonists many ways 
 lead to the belief in God, and His Word. Then to exhort 
 me to the humility of Christ, hidden from the vdse and 
 revealed to littU ones, he spoke of Victorinus himself, 
 whom, while at Rome, he had most intimately known : 
 and of him he related what I will not conceal. For it 
 contains great praise of Thy grace, to be confessed unto 
 Thee, how that aged man, most learned and skilled in the 
 liberal sciences, and who had read, and weighed so many 
 works of the philosophers; the instructor of so many no- 
 ble Senators, who also, as a monument of his excellent 
 discharge of his office, had, (which men of this world 
 esteem a high honor,) both deserved and obtained a statue 
 in the Roman Forum ; he, to that age a worshipper of 
 idols, and a partaker of the sacrilegious rites, to which 
 almost all the nobility of Rome were given up, and had 
 inspired the people with the love of 
 
 Anubis, barking Deity, and all 
 
 The monster Gods. of every kind, who fought 
 
 'Gainst Neptune, Venus, and Minerva : 
 
 when Rome once conquered, now adored, all which the 
 aged Victorinus had with thundering eloquence so mSny 
 years defended ; — he now blushed not to be the child of 
 Thy Christ, and the new-born babe of Thy fountain ; 
 subttiitting his neck to the yoke of humility, and subdu- 
 ing his forehead to the reproach of the Cross. 
 
 4. O Lord, Loi-d, Which hast boieed the heavens and 
 come down, touched the mountains and they did smolce, by 
 what means didst Thou convey Thyself into that breast ? 
 He used to read, (as SimplicianuS said,) the holy Scrip- 
 tures, most studiously sought and searched into all the 
 Christian writings, and said to Simplicianus, (not openly, 
 but privately, arid as a friend,) " Understand that I am 
 already a Christian." Simplicianus answerfed, " I will 
 not believe it, nor will I rank you among Christians, un- 
 less I see you in the Church of Christ." The other, in 
 banter, replied, "Do walls then make Christians?" And 
 this he often said, that he was already a Christian ; and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 127 
 
 Simplicianus as often made the same answer ; and the 
 conceit of the " walls" was by the other as often renewed. 
 For he feared to offend his friends, proud d<Emon-wor- 
 shippers, from the height of whose Babylonian dignity, as 
 from cedars of Lebanon, which the Lord had not yet 
 hroken down, he supposed the weight of enmity would fall 
 upon him. But when by reading and earnest thought he 
 had gathered firmness, and feared to be denied hy Christ 
 before the holy angels, should he now be afraid to confess 
 Him before men, and appeared to himself guilty of a 
 heavy offence, in being ashamed of the Sacraments of the 
 humility of Thy "Word ; while he was not ashamed of the 
 sacrilegious rites of those proud dsemons, whose pride he 
 had imitated and their rites adopted, he became bold- 
 faced against vanity, and shame-faced towards the truth, 
 and suddenly and unexpectedly, said to Simplicianus, (as 
 himself told me,) " Let us go the Church ; I wish to be 
 made a Christian." And not long after he further gave 
 in his name, that he might be regenerated by baptism, 
 Rome wondering, the Church rejoicing. The proud saw, 
 amd were wroth ; they gnashed their teeth and melted away. 
 But the Lord God was the hope of Thy servant, and he 
 regarded not vanities and lying madness. 
 
 5. In fine, when the hour was come for making pro- 
 fession of his faith, (which at Rome they, who are about 
 to approach to Thy grace, deliver, from an elevated place, 
 in the sight of all the faithful, in a set form of words com- 
 mitted to memory,) the presbyters, he said, offered Victo- 
 rinus, (as was done to such, as seemed likely through 
 bashfulness to be alarmed,) to make his profession more 
 privately : but he chose rather to profess his salvation in 
 the presence of the holy multitude. " Forit was not sal- 
 vation that he taught in rhetoric, and yet that he had 
 publicly professed.. How much less then ought he, when 
 pronouncing Thy word, to dread Thy meek flock, who, 
 when delivering his own words, had not feared a mad 
 multitude!" When, then, he went up to make his pro- 
 fession, all, as they knew him, whispered his name one to 
 another, with the voice of congratulation. And who there 
 knew him not? and there ran a low murmur through gll 
 the mouths of the rejoicing multitude, Victorinus ! Vic- 
 
128 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 torinus! Sudden was the burst of rapture, that they 
 saw him ; suddenly were they hushed that they might 
 hear him. He pronounced the true faith with an excel- 
 lent boldness, and all wished to draw him into their very 
 heart : yea, by their love and joy they drew him hither ; 
 such were the hands wherewith they drew him. 
 
 [III.] 6. Good God! what takes place in man, that he 
 should more rejoice at the salvation of a soul despaired 
 of, and freed from greater peril, than if there had always 
 been hope of him, or the danger had been less ? For so 
 Thou also, merciful Father, dost more rejoice over one 
 penitent, than over ninety-nine just persons, that need no 
 repentance. And with much joyfulness do we hear with 
 what joy the sheep which had strayed, is brought back upon 
 the shepherd''s shoulder, and the groat is restored to Thy 
 treasury, the neighbors rejoicing with the woman who 
 found it ; and the joy of the solemn service of Thy house 
 forceth to tears, when in Thy house it is read of Thy 
 younger son, that he was dead, and lived again ; had been 
 lost, and is found. For Thou rejoicest in us, and in Thy 
 holy angels, holy through holy charity. For Thou art 
 ever the same ; for all things which abide not the same 
 nor for ever. Thou for ever knowest in the same way. 
 
 7. What then takes place in the soul, when it is more 
 delighted at finding or recovering the things it loves, than 
 if they had not been lost? yea, and other things witness 
 hereunto ; and all things are full of witnesses, crying out, 
 "so is it." The conquering commander triumpeth ; yet 
 had he not conquered, unless he had fought ; and the more 
 peril there was in the battle, so much the more joy is there 
 in the triumph. The storm tosses the sailor,s, threatens 
 shipwreck; all wax pale at approaching death; sky and 
 sea are calmed, and they have exceeding joy, because 
 they were exceeding afraid. A friend is sick, and his 
 pulse threatens danger ; all who long for his recovery, are 
 sick in mind with him. He is restored, though as yet he 
 walks not with his former strength ; yet there is such joy 
 as was not, when before he walked sound and strong. 
 Yea, the very pleasures of human life men acquire by dif- 
 ficulties, not those only which fall upon us unlooked for, 
 and against our wills, but even by self-chosen and pleas- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 129 
 
 ure-seeking trouble. Eating and drinking have rib pleas- 
 ure, unless the pinching of hunger and thirst precede. 
 Men, given to drink, eat certain salt meats, to procure a 
 troublesome heat, which the drink allaying, causes pleas- 
 ure. It is also ordered, that the affianced bride should 
 not at once be given, lest as a husband he should less es- 
 teem whom, he had less sighed after, betrothed. 
 
 8. This law holds both in foul and accursed joy; in 
 permitted and lawful joy ; in the very purest perfection 
 of friendship,' in him who was dead, and lived again ; had 
 been lost, and was found. Every where the greater joy 
 is ushered in by the greater pain. What means this, O 
 Lord my God, whereas Thou art everlastingly joy to Thy- 
 self, and sotne things around Thee evermore rejoice in 
 Thee 1 What means this, that this portion of things thus 
 ebbs and flows, alternately displeased and reconciled ? Is 
 this their allotted measure 1 Is this all Thou hast assigned 
 to them, whereas from the highest heavens to the lowest 
 earth, from the beginning of the world to the end of ages, 
 from the angel to the worm, from the first motion to the 
 last. Thou settest each in its place, and realizest each in 
 their season, every thing good after its kind 1 Woe is 
 me ! how high art Thou in the highest, and how deep in 
 the deepest •! and Thou never departest from us, and we 
 scarcely return to Thee. 
 
 [IV.] 9. Up, Lord, and do ; stir us up, and recall us ; 
 kindle and draw us ; inflame, grow sweet unto us ; let us 
 lo?e Thee, let us run. , Do not many, out of a deeper hell 
 of blindness than Victorinus, return to Thee ; approach, 
 and are enlightened ; receiving that Light, which they 
 who receive, receive power from Thee to hecome Thy sons ? 
 But if they be less known to the nations, yet they that 
 know- them, rejoice for them. But .when many joy to- 
 gether, each also has more exuberant joy ; being kindled 
 and inflamed one by the other ; and because those widely 
 known influence the more towards salvation, and lead the 
 way with many to follow : wherefore they who preceded 
 them, much rejoice in them, rejoicing not in them alone. 
 For far be it, that in Thy tabernacle the persons of the 
 rich should be accepted before the poor, or the noble be- 
 fore the ignoble ; seeing rather that Thou hast chosen the 
 11 
 
130 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 toeak things vf the world to confound the strong ; and the 
 base things of this world, and the things despised hast 
 Thou chosen, and those things which are not, that Thou 
 mightest bring to nought things that are. And yet even 
 that least of Thy apostles, by whose tongue Thou sound- 
 edst forth these words, when through his warfare, Paulus, 
 the Proconsul, his pride conquered, was made to pass un- 
 der the easy yoke of Thy Christ, and became a provincial 
 of the great King ; he also for his former name Saul, was 
 pleased to be called Paul, in testimony of so great a vic- 
 tory. F6r the enemy is more overcome in one, of whom 
 he hath more hold ; by whom he hath hold of more. But 
 the proud he hath more hold of, through their nobility ; 
 and by them, of more through their authority. But by 
 how much the more welcome then the heart of Victori- 
 nus was esteemed, which the devil had held as an impreg- 
 nable possession ; £.nd the tongue of Victorinus, with 
 which mighty and keen weapon he had slain many ; by so 
 much the more abundantly ought Thy sons to rejoice, see- 
 ing that our King had bound the strong man, and they saw 
 his vessels taken from him and cleansed, and made meet for 
 Thy honor, and become serviceable for the Lord, unto ev- 
 ery good work. 
 
 [v.] 10. Now when that man of Thine, Simplicianus, 
 related to me this of Victorinus, I was on fire to imitate 
 him ; and for this very end had he related it. But when 
 he had subjoined, also, how m the days of the Emperor 
 Julian, a law was made, whereby Christians were forbid- 
 den to teach the liberal sciences or oratory, and how 
 he, obeying this law, chose rather to give over the wordy 
 school, than Thy Word, by which Thou makest eloquent 
 the tongues of the dumb ; he seemed to me not more res- 
 olute than blessed, in, having thus found opportunity to 
 wait on Thee only. Which thing I was sighing for, 
 bound as I was, not with another's irons, but by my own 
 iron will. My will the enemy held, and thence had made 
 a chain for me, and bound me. For of a perverse will 
 comes lust ; and a lust yielded to, becomes custom ; and 
 custom not resisted, becomes necessity. By which links, 
 as it were, joined together as in a chain, a hard bondage 
 held me enthralled. But that new will which had begun 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 131 
 
 to be in me, to serve Thee freely, and to wish to enjoy 
 Thee, O, God, our only assured pleasantness ! was not 
 yet able to overcome my former long established wilful- 
 ness. Thus did ray two wills, one new, and the other 
 old ; one carnal, the other spiritual ; struggle within me ; 
 and, by their discord, undid my soul. 
 
 11. Thus I understood, by my own experience, what I 
 had read, how the flesh histeth against the spirit and the 
 spirit against thi flesh. I experienced both ; but more * 
 now of that which I approved in myself, than of that 
 which I disapproved. For of this last, it was now rather 
 not myself, because in much 1 rather endured against mv 
 will, than acted willingly. And yet it was by mine own 
 action that custom had obtained this power of warring 
 against me ; I^had comejwillingly whither I willed now 
 notjobe^ And~wlK>Tias any ngBt'T^rspeak against it, if 
 just punishment follow the sinner ? Nor had I now any 
 longer my former plea, that I as yet hesitated to be above 
 the world and serv^ Thee, because the truth was not al- 
 together ascertained to me ; for now it was. But I, still 
 uiider service to the earth, refused to fight under Thy ban- 
 ner, and feared as much to be freed of all incumbrances, 
 as I ought to have feared to be encumbered therewith. 
 Thus with the baggage of this world was I held down 
 pleasantly, as in sleep : and the thoughts wherein I med- 
 itated on Thee, were like the efforts of such as would 
 awake, and yet overcome with a heavy drowsiness, again 
 sink in sleep. And as no one would sleep for ever, and, 
 in all men's sober judgment, waking is better, yet a man, 
 for the most part, feeling a heavy lethargy in all his limbs, 
 defers to shake off sleep, and, though half displeased, 
 yet, even after it is time to rise, with pleasure yields to it, 
 so was I assured, that much better were it for me to give 
 myself up to thy charity, than to give myself over to mine 
 own cupidity ; but though the former course satisfied me 
 and gained the mastery, the latter pleased me and held me 
 mastered. Nor had I any thing to answer Thee calling 
 to me. Awake, thou that steepest, and arise from- the dead, 
 and Christ shall give thee light. And when Thou didst 
 on all sides show me, that what Thou saidst was true, I, 
 convicted by the truth, had nothing at all to answer, but 
 
132 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 only those dull and drowsy words, " Anon, anon," " pre- 
 sently ;" " leave me but a little," But " presently, pre- 
 sently," had no present, and my " little while" went oh 
 for a long while ; in vain I delighted in Thy law accord- 
 ing to the inner man, when another law in my memhers 
 rebelled against the law of my mind, and led me captive 
 under the law of sin which was in my members. For the 
 law of sin is the violence of custom, whereby the mind is 
 drawn and holden, even against its yifill ; yet deservedly,, 
 for it willingly fell into it. Who then should deliver me, 
 thus wretched, from the body of this death, but Thy grace 
 only, through Jesus Christ our Lord ? 
 
 [VI.] 13. And how Thou didst deliver me out of the 
 bonds of desire, wherewith I was bound most straitly to 
 carnal concupiscence, and out of the drudgery of worldly 
 things, I will now declare, and confess unto thy name, O 
 Lord, my helper and my redeemer. Amid increasing anx- 
 iety, I was doing my wonted business, and daily sighing 
 unto Thee. I attended Thy Church, whenever free from 
 the business under the burden of which I groaned. Alyp^ 
 ius was with rae, now after the third sitting released from 
 his law business, and awaiting to whom to sell his coun- 
 sel, as I sold the skill of speaking, (if indeed teaching can 
 impart it.) To please us, Nebridius had also consented 
 to teach under Verecundus, a citizen arni a grammarian 
 of Milan, and a very intimate friend of us all ; who ur- 
 gently desired, and by the right of friendship challenged 
 from our company such faithful aid as he greatly needed. 
 Nebridius was npt drawn to this by any desire of advan- 
 tage, (for be might have made much more of his learning 
 bad he so willed,) but as a most kind and gentle friend, 
 he would not be wanting to a good office, and slight our 
 request. Hitherto he had refused such offices, shunning 
 to become known to personages great according to this 
 world, to avoid the distraction of mind thence issuing, 
 and desiring to have free to seek, or read, or hear some- 
 thing concerning wisdom. 
 
 14. One day Nebridius being absent, (I recollect not 
 why,) one Pontitianus came to see me and Alypius. He 
 was an African in high office in the Emperor's court. 
 What he would with us, I know not, but we sat down to 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 133 
 
 converse, and it happened that he observed a book, on the 
 the table, and opening it, contrary to his expectation, 
 found it the Apostle Paul ; for he had thought if some of 
 those books which I was wearing myself in teaching. 
 Whereat smiling, and looking at me, he expressed his 
 joy and wonder, that he had on a sudden found this book, 
 and this only before my eyes. For he was a Christian, 
 and baptized, and often bowed himself before Thee our 
 God in the Church, in frequent and continued prayers. 
 When then I had told him, that I bestowed very great pains 
 upon those Scriptures, a conveTsation arose on Antony 
 the Egyptian Monk : whose name was in high reputation 
 among Thy servants, though to that hour unknown to us. 
 Which when he discovered, he dwelt more upon that sub- 
 ject, wondering at our ignorance of one so eminent. And 
 we stood amazed, hearing Thy wonderful works (most fully 
 attested, in times so recent) wrought in the true Faith and 
 Church Catholic. We all wondered ; we, that they were 
 so great, and he, that they had not reached us. 
 
 15. Thence his discourse turned to the flocks in the 
 Monasteries, and their holy ways, a sweet smelling savor 
 unto Thee, and the fruitful deserts of the wildern ess, 
 whereof we knevif nothing. And there was a Monastery 
 at Milan, full of good brethren, without the city walls, 
 under the fostering care of Ambrose, and we knew it iiot. 
 He went on wifh his discourse, and we listened in intent 
 silence. He told us then how one afternoon at Triers, 
 when the Emperor was taken up with the Cireensian 
 games, he and three others, his companions, went out to 
 walk in gardens near the city walls, and there as they 
 happened to walk in pairs, one went apart with him, and 
 the other two wandered by themselves ; and these, in their 
 wanderings, lighted upon a certain cottage, inhabited by 
 certain of Thy servants, poor in spirit, of whom is the 
 kingdom of heaven, and there they found a little book, 
 containing the life of Antony, which one of them began 
 to read, admire, and kindle at ; and as he read, to medi- 
 tate on taking up such a life, and giving over his sec- 
 ular service to serve Thee. He and his companion were 
 agents for the public affairs. Then suddenly, filled with 
 an holy love, and a sober shame, in anger with himself he 
 11* 
 
184 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 cast his eyes upon his friend, saying, " Tell me, I pray 
 thee, what do we attain by all these labors of ours 1 what 
 do we aim at ? what serve for 1 Can our hopes in 
 court rise higher than to be the Emperor's favorites ? and 
 what is there not brittle, and full of perils in this ? by how 
 many perils do we arrive at a greater peril 1 And when ? 
 But, if I wish it, I can become now at once a friend of 
 God." So he said. And in pain with the travail of a 
 new life, he turned his eyes agaiii upon the book, and 
 read on, and was changed inwardly, as Thou sawest: and 
 his mind was stripped of the world, as soon appeared. 
 For as he read, and rolled up and down the waves of his 
 heart, he stormed at himself a while, then discerned, and 
 determined on a better course ; and now being Thine, 
 said to his friend, " Now have I broken loose from false 
 hopes, and am resolved to serve God ; and from this hour, 
 in this place, I begin upon this. If thou will not to im- 
 itate me, do not oppose me." The other answered, he 
 would cleave to him, to partake so glorious a reward, so 
 glorious a service. Thus both, being now Thine, were 
 building the tower at the necessary cost, the forsaking all 
 that they had, and following Thee. Then Pontitianus and 
 the other with him, that had walked in other parts of the 
 garden, came in search of them, to the same place; and 
 finding them, reminded them to return, for the day was 
 now far spent. But they, relating their* resolution and 
 purpose, and how the determination was settled in them, 
 begged themj if they would not join, not to molest them. 
 Their friends, though nothing altered from their form- 
 er selves, did yet (as he affirmed,) weep, and piously 
 congratulated them, recommending themselves to their 
 prayers; and so, with hearts lingering on the earth, went 
 away to the palace. But the other two, fixing their hearts 
 on heaven, remained in the cottage. And both had affi- 
 anced brides, who, when they heard hereof, also dedicated 
 their virginity unto God. 
 
 [VII.] 16. Such was the story of Pontitianus; but 
 Thjou, O Lord, while he was speaking, didst turn me 
 round toward myself, taking me from hehind my back, 
 where I had placed myself, being unwilling to observe 
 myself; and Thou didst set rae before my own face, that I 
 
ST, AUGUSTINE. 135 
 
 Inight see how &ul I was, how crooked and defiled, be-, 
 spotted and ulcerous. And I beheld and stood aghast; 
 and whither to flee from myself I found not. And if I 
 sought to turn mine eye from off myself, he went on with 
 his relation, and Thou again didst set me over against my- 
 self, and didst thrust me before my eyes, that I might find 
 tmt mine iniquity, and hate it. I had known it, but made 
 as though I saw it not, and winked at it, and forgot it. 
 
 17. But now, the more ardently I loved those, whose 
 healthful affections I heard of, who had resigned them- 
 sehes wholly to Thee to be cured, the more did I abhor 
 myself, when compared with them. For many years 
 (some twelve) had now run out with me since my nine- 
 teenth, when, upon the reading of Cicero's Hortensius, I 
 was stirred to an earnest love of wisdom ; and still I was 
 deferring to reject mere earthly felicity, and give myself 
 to search out that, whereof not the finding only, but the 
 very search, was to be preferred to the treasures and king- 
 doms of the world, though already found, and to the pleas- 
 ures of the body, though spread around me at my will. 
 But I, wretched, most wretched, in the very commence- 
 ment of my early youth, had begged chastity of Thee 
 thus: "Give me chastity and continency, only not yet.' ^ 
 For I feared lest Thou shouldest hear me soon, and soon 
 cure me of the disease of concupiscence, which I wished 
 to have satisfied, rather than extinguished. And I had 
 wandered through crooked ways in a sacrilegious super- 
 stition, not indeed assured thereof, but as preferring it to 
 truth which I did not seek religiously, but opposed ma- 
 liciously. 
 
 18. I had thought that I had deferred from day to day 
 to reject the hopes of this world, and follow Thee only, 
 because there appeared no certain way whither to direct 
 my course. But now was the day come wherein 1 was to 
 be laid bare to myself, and my conscience was to upbraid 
 me. " Where art thou now, my tongue ? Thou saidst, 
 that for uncertain truth thou didst not like to cast off the 
 baggage of vanity ; now, truth is certain, yet that burthen 
 still oppresseth thee; while they-, who neither have so worn 
 themselves out with seeking it, nor for ten years and more 
 have been thinking thereon, have had their shoulders 
 
136 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 lightened, and received wings to fly away." Thus was I 
 gnawed within, and exceedingly confounded with an hor- 
 rible shame, while Pontitianus was speaking. Having fin- 
 ished his tale and the business he came for, he went his 
 way ; and I into myself. What said I not against myself? 
 with what scourges of condemnation did I not lash my soul, 
 that it might follow me, striving to go after Thee ! Yet it 
 drew back; refused, but excused not itself All argu- 
 ments were spent and confuted ; there remained a mute 
 shrinking; and she feared, as she would death, to be re- 
 strained from the flux of that custom, whereby she was 
 wasting to death. 
 
 [VIII.] 19. In this great contention which I had strong- 
 ly raised against my soul, in my heart, troubled in mind 
 and countenance, I turned upon Alypius : " What ails 
 us?" I exclaimed: "what is it? what hearedst thou? 
 The unlearned start up and take heaven hy force ; and we, 
 with our learning, and without heart, wallow in flesh and 
 blood ! Are we ashamed to follow, because others are 
 gone before, and not ashamed to lag behind." Some such 
 words I uttered, and my fever of mind tore me away from 
 him, while he, gazing on me in astonishment, kept si- 
 lence. For it was not my wonted tone ; and my fore- 
 head, cheeks, eyes, color, tone of voice, spake my mind 
 more than the words I uttered. A little garden there was 
 to our lodging, which we had the use of, as of the whole 
 house ; for the master of the house, our host, was not liv- 
 ing there. Thither had the tumult of my breast hurried 
 me, where no man might hinder the hot contention where- 
 in I had engaged with myself, until it should end as thou 
 knewest, but I knew not. Only I was healthfully dis- 
 tracted and dying, to live; knowing what evil thing 1 was, 
 and not knowing what' good thing I was shortly to be- 
 come. I retired then into the garden, and Alypius on my 
 steps. His presence did not lessen my privacy; and how 
 could he forsake me so disturbed ? We sate down as far 
 removed as might be from the house. I was troubled in 
 spirit, most vehemently indignant that I entered not into 
 Thy will and covenant, O my God, which all my hones 
 cried out unto me to enter, and praised it unto the skies. 
 And therein we enter not by ships, or chariots, or feet. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 137 
 
 DO, move not so far as I had come from the house to that 
 place where we were sitting. For, not only to go, but to 
 arrive was nothing else but to will to go, resolutely and 
 thoroughly ; not to turn and toss, this way and that, with 
 maimed and half-divided will, struggling; one part sink- 
 ing as another rose. 
 
 20. Lastly, in the fever of my irresoluteness, I made 
 with my body many such motions as men sometimes 
 would, but cannot, because they have not the limbs, or are 
 bound with bands, weakened with infirmity, or in some way 
 hindered. Thus, if I tore ray hair, beat my forehead, if, 
 locking niy fingers, I clasped my knee, it was because I 
 willed it. But I might have willed, and not done it, if the 
 power of motion in my limbs had not obeyed. So many 
 things I did, although " to will " was not dn itself " to be 
 able ; " yet 1 did not do what I longed incomparably more 
 to do. But if I had willed thoroughly I should have done 
 it, for I should have produced the will. In these things '^' 
 ability is one with the will, and to will is to do; and yet 
 was it not done : and more easily did my body obey the 
 weakest inclination of my soul, in moving its limbs at its 
 nod, than the soul obeyed itself, to accomplish in the will 
 alone, this its momentous will. 
 
 [IX.] 21. Whence is this mongtrousness ? andtpwha^ 
 end? Let Thy mercy gleam that I may ask, if the ob- 
 scurity arising from the secret sins of men, and those darkr 
 est pangs of the sons of Adam, may aJlqw an answer. 
 Whence is this monstrousness 1 and to what end 1 The 
 mind commands the body, and it obeys instantly ; the 
 mind commands itself, and is resisted. The mind com- 
 mands the hand to be mpyed; and such readiness is there, 
 the command is scarce distinct from the obedience. Yet 
 the mind is mind, the hand is body. The mind com- 
 mands the mind, its own self, to will, and yet it doth not. 
 Whence this monstrousness? and to what end ? It com- 
 mends itself, I say, to will, and would not command, unless 
 it willed, but what it commands is not done. Alas ! it 
 willeth not entirely : therefore doth it not command en- 
 tirely. For so far forth it cotmnandeth, as it willeth : and, 
 so far forth is the thing commanded, not done, as it will- 
 eth not. For the will commandeth that there be a will. But 
 
133 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 it doth not command entirely, therefore what it command' 
 eth comes not. Were the will whole, there would be not 
 willing but doing. It is therefore not monstrous, partly 
 to will, partly to nill, but a disease of the mind, which does 
 not wholly rise, by truth up-borne, but is borne down by 
 custom. In short, there are two wills, because one is not 
 entire and the other hath what that lacketh. 
 
 [X.] 22. Let those perish from Thy presence, O God, 
 as vain talkers, and seducers of the soul, who, because 
 they see two wills, affirm that there are two minds in us, 
 one good, the other evil. Themselves are truly evil, when 
 they hold these evil things ; and themselves shall become 
 good, wh«n they hold the truth, and assent unto the truth, 
 that Thy Apostle may say to them. Ye were sometimes 
 darkness, hut now light in the Lord. They, wishing to be 
 light, not in the Lord, but in themselves, imagining the 
 nature of the soul to be that which God is, are made more 
 gross darkness through a dreadful arrogancy ; going hack 
 farther from Thee, the true Light that enlighteneth every 
 man that cometh into the world. Take heed what you say, 
 and blush for shame : draw near unto Him and be enlight- 
 ened, and your faces shall not he ashamed. Deliberating 
 upon serving the Lord my God now, as I had long pur- 
 posed, it was I who willed, I who nilled, I, I myself I 
 neither willed entirely, nor nilled entirely. Therefore was 
 I at strife with myself, and rent asunder by myself And 
 this rent befel me against my will, and yet indicated, not 
 the presence of another mind, but the punishment of my 
 own. Therefore it was no more I that wrought it, but sin 
 that dwelt in me ; the punishment of a sin more freely com- 
 mitted, in that I was a son of Adam. 
 
 23. For if there be so many contrary natures, as there 
 be conflicting wills, there shall now be not two only, but 
 many. If a man deliberate, whether he should go to their 
 conventicle, or to the theatre, these Manichees cry out. 
 Behold, here are two natures : one good draws this way; 
 another bad, draws back that way. For whence else is 
 this hesitation between conflicting wills ? But I say, that 
 both be bad : that which draws to them, as that which 
 draws back to the theatre. But they believe that will to 
 be good, which draws to them. What then if one of us 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 139 
 
 §tiould deliberate, and amid the strife of his two wills be 
 in a strait, whether he should go to the theatre, or to our 
 ehurch 1 would not these Manichees also be in a strait 
 what to answer? For either they must confess, (which 
 they fain would not,) that the will which leads to our 
 church is good, or they must suppose, two evil natures, 
 and two evil souls conflicting in one man, instead of see- 
 ing the truth, that, in deliberation, one soul fluctuates be- 
 tween contrary wills. 
 
 24. Let them no more say, then, when they perceive 
 two conflicting wills in one man, that the conflict is be- 
 tween two contrary souls, of two contrary substances, 
 from two contrary principles, one good and the other bad. 
 For Thou, O true God, dost disprove, check, and convict 
 them by facts ; such as when one deliberates whether he 
 should Ijill a man by poison, or by the sword ; whether he 
 should seize this or that estate of another's, when he can- 
 not both ; whether he should purchase pleasure by luxury, 
 or keep his money by covetousness ; whether he go to the 
 circus or the theatre, if both be open on one day ; or, 
 thirdly, to rob another's house, if he have the opportunity ; 
 or, fourthly, to commit adultery, if at the same time he 
 have the means thereof also. All these, meeting together 
 in the same juncture of time, and all being equally de- 
 sired, which cannot at one time be acted, do rend the 
 mind amid four, or even more, conflicting wills ; but who 
 will say there are so many divers substances? So also in 
 wills which are good. For I ask them, is it good^to take 
 pleasure in reading the Apostle ? or good to take pleasure 
 in a sober Psalm ? or good to discourse on the Gospel ? 
 They will answer to each, " It is good." What then if 
 all give equal pleasure, and all at once ? Do not divers 
 wills distract the mind, while he deliberates which he 
 should rather choose ? yet are they all good, and are at 
 variance, till one be chosen. Thus, also, when eternity 
 delights us, and the pleasure of temporal good holds us 
 down below, it is the same soul which willeth neither way 
 with an entire will ; and therefore it is rent asunder with 
 grievous perplexities, because its love of truth sets this 
 first, while its habit sets the other one first. 
 
 [XL] 25. Thus soul-sick was I, and tormented, ac- 
 
140 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 cusing myself much more severely than my wont, rolling 
 and turning me in my chain, till that were wholly broken, 
 whereby I now was but just held. Thou, O Lord, didst 
 press upon me, inwardly, with severe mercy, redoubling 
 the lashes of fear and shame, lest I should again give 
 way, and that same slight remaining tie should recover 
 strength, and bind me faster. For I said within myself, 
 " Be it done now, be it done now." And as I spake, I 
 all but enacted it. I all but did it, and did it not : yet 
 sunk not back to ray former state, but kept my stand hard 
 by, and took breath. And I essayed again, and wanted 
 somewhat less of it, and somewhat less, and all but touch- 
 ed and laid hold of it ; and yet came not at it, nor touch- 
 ed, nor laid hold of it: hesitating to die to death and to 
 live to life : and the worse whereto I was inured, prevail- 
 ed more with me than the better, whereto I was unused : 
 and the very moment wherein I was to become other than 
 I was, the nearer it approached me, the greater horror did 
 it strike into me ; yet did it not strike me back, nor 
 turned me away, but held me in suspense. 
 
 26. The very toys of toys, and vanities of vanities, my 
 ancient mistresses, still held me ; they plucked my fleshly 
 garment, and whispered softly, " Dost thou cast us oSf 
 and from that moment shall we no more be with thee for 
 ever ? and from that moment shall not this or that be law- 
 ful for thee for ever 1" And what was it which they sug- 
 gested, O my God ? Let Thy mercy turn it away from 
 the soul of Thy servant. What defilements did they sug- 
 gest ! what shame ! But now I much less than half heard 
 them, not openly shewing themselves and contradicting 
 me, but muttering as it were behind my back, and privily 
 plucking me, as I was departing, but to look back on 
 them. Yet they did retard me, so that I hesitated to burst 
 and shake myself free from them, and to spring over 
 whither I was called; a violent habit saying to me, 
 " Thinkest thou, thou canst live without them 1" 
 
 27. But soon it spake more faintly. For on that side 
 whither I had set my face, and whither I trembled to go, 
 there appeared unto me the chaste dignity of Continency, 
 serene, not dissolutely gay, honestly alluring me to come, 
 nothing doubting ; and she stretched forth to receive and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 141 
 
 embrace me ; her holy hands full of multitudes of good 
 examples. There were so many young men and maidens 
 here, a multitude of youth and every age, grave widows 
 and aged virgins ; and Continence herself in all, not bar- 
 ren, but a fruitful mother of children of joys, by Thee 
 her Husband, O Lord. And she smiled on me with a 
 persuasive mockery, as she would say, " Canst not thou 
 do what these youths, what these maidens can ? or do they 
 do it of themselves, and not rather by the Lord their 
 God 1 The Lord their God gave me unto them. Why 
 standest thou in thyself, and so art falling 1 Cast thyself 
 upon Him, fear not. He will not withdraw Himself that 
 thou shouldest fall ; cast thyself fearlessly upon him. He 
 will receive, and will heal thee." And I blushed ex- 
 ceedingly, that I listened to the muttering of those toys, 
 and hung in suspense. And she again seemed to say, 
 "Stop thine ears against thy unclean members, that they 
 may be mortified. They tell thee of delights, but not like 
 the lata of the Lord Thy God." This controversy in my 
 heart was self against self only. But Alypius sitting close 
 by my side, in silence waited the issue of my unwonted 
 emotion. 
 
 [XH.] 28. And when a deep consideration had from 
 the secret bottom of my soul drawn together and heaped 
 up all ray misery in the sight of iny heart ; there arose a 
 mighty storm, bringing a mighty shower of tears. Which 
 that I might pour forth wholly, in its natural expressions, 
 I rose from Alypius : solitude seemed to me fitter for the 
 business of weeping ; so I retired" so far that even his 
 presence could not be a burthen to me. He understood 
 this, and remained where we were sitting, extremely as- 
 tonished. I cast myself down I know not how, under a 
 certain fig-tree, giving full vent to my tears ; and the 
 floods of mine eyes gushed out, an acceptable sacrifice 
 to Thee. And, not indeed in these words, yet to this 
 purpose, spake I much unto Thee. And Thou, O Lord, 
 how long? how long. Lord; toilt Thou he angry, for 
 ever 1 'Remember not our former iniquities, for I felt that 
 I was held by them. I sent up these sorrowful words ; 
 How long ? how long, " to-morrow and to-morrow 1" 
 12 
 
142 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Why not now ? why this hour is there not an end to my 
 uncleanness f 
 
 29. So was I speaking, and weeping in the most bitter 
 contrition of my heart, when, lo ! I heard from a neigh- 
 boring house a voice, as of boy or girl, I know not, chant- 
 ing, and oft repeating " Take up and read ; Take up and 
 read." Instantly, my pountenance altered, I began to 
 think most intently, whether children were wont in any 
 kind of play to sing such words ; nor could I remember 
 ever to have heard the like- So checking the torrent of 
 my tears, I arose ; interpreting it to be no other than a 
 command from God, to open the book, and read the first 
 chapter I should find. For I had heard of Antony, how 
 coming in during the reading of this Gospel, Go, sell all 
 that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have 
 treasure in heaven ; and come and Jollow me ; he received 
 these words as addressed to himself. And by such oracle 
 was forthwith converted unto Thee. Eagerly then I re- 
 turned to the place where Alypius was sitting; for there 
 had I laid the volume of the Apostle, when I arose thence. 
 I seized, opened, and in silence read that section, on 
 which my eyes first fell : Not in rioting and drunkenness, 
 not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envy- 
 ing : but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not 
 provision for the flesh, in concupiscence. No further 
 would I read ; nor needed I : for instantly at the end of 
 this sentence, by a light as it were of serenity infused 
 into my heart, all the darkness of doubt vanished away. 
 
 30. Then putting my finger between, I shut the volume, 
 and with a calm countenance made it known to Alypius. 
 He asked to see what I had read : I shewed him ; and he 
 looked even further than I had read, where was written, 
 him that is weak in the faith, receive ; which he applied to 
 himself, and disclosed to me. And by this admonition 
 was he strengthened ; and by a good resolution and pur- 
 pose, and, according to his character, in which he was 
 far different from me, and far better ; without any tur- 
 bulent delay he joined me. Then we went in to ray 
 mother, and told her, relating in order how it took place. 
 Then did she leap for joy, and triumph, and bless Thee, 
 Who art abk to do more than we ask or think ; for she 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 143 
 
 perceived that Thou hadst given her more for me, than 
 she was wont to beg by her pitiful and most sorrowful 
 groanings. For Thou convertedst me unto Thyself, so 
 that I sought neither wife, nor apy hope of this world, 
 standing on that rule of faith, where Thou hadst shewed 
 me unto her in a vision, so many years before. And Thou 
 didst convert her mourning into joy, much more plentiful 
 than she had desired, and in a much more precious and 
 purer way than she erst required, by having grandchildren 
 of my body. 
 
144 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 THE NINTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine determines to devote liis life to God, and to abandon tiis profession of 
 Ktietoric, quietly liowever ; letircs to the country to prepare himself to receive 
 Baptism, and is baptized with Alypius, and bis son, Adeodatus. At Ostia, in 
 his way to Africa, bis mother, Monnica, dies, in her fifty-sixth year, the thirty- 
 third of Augustine's. Her life and character. 
 
 [I.] 1. O Lord, lam Thy servant ; I am Thy servant, 
 and the son of Tliy handmaid ; Thou hast broken my bonds 
 in sunder. I will offer to Thee the sacrifice of praise. 
 Let my heart and my tongue praise Thee ; yea, let all my 
 bones say, O Lord, who is like unto Thee ? Let them say 
 and answer Thou, and say unto my soul, I am thy salva- 
 tion. Who ami, what man am I'! Rather what evil 
 am I not, either in my deeds, or in my words, or in my 
 will ? But Thou, O Lord, art good and merciful, and 
 Thy right hand had respect unto the depth of my death, 
 and from the bottom of my heart emptieth that abyss of 
 corruption. And this Thy whole gift was, to nill what I 
 willed, and to will what Thou willedst. But where, 
 through all those years, was my free will, and out of what 
 low and deep recess was it called forth in a moment, so 
 that I submitted my neck to Thy easy yoke, and my 
 shoulders unto Thy light burthen, O Christ Jesus, my 
 Helper and my Redeemer ? How sweet did it at once be- 
 come to me, to give up those sweetnesses I had feared to 
 be parted from ! Thou didst cast them forth from me. 
 Thou true and highest sweetness. And Thou didst en- 
 ter in Thyself, sweeter than all pleasure, though not to 
 flesh and blood ; brighter than all light, but more hidden 
 than all depths, sublimer than all honor, save to the higb 
 in their own conceits. Now was my soul free from the 
 biting cares of canvassing and getting, of weltering in 
 filth, and scratching off the itch of lust. And my infant 
 tongue spake freely to Thee, my brightness, and my 
 riches, and my health, the Lord my God. 
 
 [H.] 2. And I resolved in Thy sight, not tumultuously 
 to tear, but gently to withdraw, the service of my tongue 
 
ST. AUeUSTINE. 145 
 
 from the marts of lip-labor : that the young, who studied 
 not Thy law, nor Thy peace, should no longer buy at my 
 mouth arms for their madness. And very seasonably, it 
 now wanted but very few days unto the Vacation of the 
 Vintage, and I resolved to endure them, then in a regular 
 way to take my leave, that having been purchased by 
 Thee, I should sell myself no more. Our purpose then 
 was known to Thee ; but to men, other than our own 
 friends, was it not known. For v/e had agreed among 
 ourselves not to publish it to any : although to us, now 
 ascending from the valley of tears, and singing that song 
 of degrees, Thou hadst given sJiarp arrows, and destroy- 
 ing coals against whatever subtile tongue, that on pre- 
 tence of advising would thwart us, and out of love devour 
 us, as we do our meat. 
 
 3. For Thou hadst pierced our hearts with Thy Love, 
 and we carried Thy words in our bowels : and the exam- 
 ples of Thy servants, whom for black Thou hadst made 
 bright, and for dead, alive, being piled together in the 
 receptacle of our thoughts, kindled and burned up our 
 heavy torpor, that we should not siiik down to the abyss ; 
 and /they fired us so vehemently, that all the blasts of 
 subtile tongues from gaiusayers, might only inflame us the 
 more fiercely, not extinguish us. Nevertheless, because 
 for Thy Name's sake, which Thou hast hallowed through- 
 out the earth, this our vow and purpose' might also find 
 some to comniend it, it seemed like ostentation not to wait 
 for the vacation now so near, but to quit beforehand a 
 public profession, which was before the eyes of all ; so 
 that all looking on this act of mine, and observing how 
 near was the time of-vintage which I wished to anticipate, 
 Would talk much of me, as if I had desired to appear 
 some great one. And what end had it served me, that 
 people should repute and dispute upon my purpose, and 
 that our good should be evil spoken of? 
 
 4. Moreover, it had at first troubled me, that in this 
 very summer, my lungs began to give way, amid too great 
 literary labor, and to breathe deeply with difficulty, and 
 by the pain in my chest to shew that they were injured, 
 and to refuse any full or lengthened speaking ; this had 
 troubled me, for it almost constrained me of necessity, to 
 
 12* 
 
146 CONFESSIONS or 
 
 lay down that burthen of teaching ; or, if I coulrf be cured 
 and recover, at least to intermit it. But when the full 
 wish for leisure arose, that I might see horn that Thou art 
 the Lord, and became fixed, Thou knowest, O God, I be- 
 gan even to rejoice that I had this secondary, and no 
 feigned, excuse, which might something moderate the 
 offence taken by those, who for the sake of their sons, 
 wished me never to have the freedom of Thy sons. Full 
 then of such joy, I endured till that interval of time were 
 run ; it may have been some twenty days, yet they were 
 endured manfully ; endured', for the covetousness which 
 aforetime bore a part of this heavy business, had left me, 
 and I remained alone, and had been overwhelmed, had 
 not patience taken its place. Perchance, some of Thy 
 servants, my brethren, may say, that I sinned in this, that 
 with a heart fully set on Thy service, I suffered myself'to 
 sit even one hour in the chair of lies. Nor would I be 
 contentious. But hast not Thou, O most merciful Lord, 
 pardoned and remitted this sin also, with my other most 
 horrible and deadly sins, in the holy water 1 
 
 [III.] 5. Verecundus was worn down with care about 
 this our blessedness, for being held back by bonds, 
 whereby he was most straitly bound, he saw that he should 
 be severed from us. For himself was not yet a Christian, 
 his wife one of the faithful ; and yet hereby, more rigidly 
 than by any other chain, was be let and hindered from the 
 journey which we had now essayed. For h? vvould not, 
 he said, be a Christian on any other terms than on those 
 he could not. However, he offered us courteously to re- 
 main at his country-house, so long as we should ."stay 
 there. Thou, O Lord, shalt reward him in the resume- 
 iion of the just, seeing Thou hast already given him the 
 lot of ihe righteous. For, in our absence at Rome, he 
 was seized with bodily sickness, and therein being made 
 a Christian, and one of the faithful, he departed this life; 
 thus hadst Thou mercy not on Mm only, Tmt on us also : 
 lest remembering the exceeding kindness of our friend 
 towards us, and unable to number him among Thy flock, 
 we had been agonized with intolerable sorrow. Thanks 
 unto Thee, our God, we are Thine : Thy suggestions and 
 consolations tell us, Faithful in promises, Thou now 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 147 
 
 requitest Verecundus for his country-house of Cassiacum, 
 where, from the fever of the world, we reposed in Thee, 
 with the eternal freshness of Thy Paradise : for that Thou 
 hast forgiven him his sins upon earth, in that rich moun- 
 tain, that mountain which yieldeth milk, Thine own 
 mountain. 
 
 6. He, however, was at that time troubled, but Nebri- 
 dius rejoiced. For although he also, not being yet a 
 Christian, had fallen into the pit of that most pernicious 
 error, believing the flesh of Thy Son to be a phantom : 
 yet emerging thence, he believed as we did ; not as yet 
 indued with any Sacraments of Thy Church, but a most 
 ardent searcher out of truth. Whom, not long after our 
 conversion and regeneration by Thy Baptism, being also 
 a faithful member of the Church Catholic, and serving 
 Thee in perfect, chastity and continence amongst his peo- 
 ple in Africa, his whole house having through him first 
 been made Christian, didst Thou release from the flesh; 
 and now he lives in Abraham's bosom. Whatever that 
 be, which is signified by that bosom, there lives my Ne- 
 bridius, my sweet friend, and Thy child, O Lord, adopted 
 of a freed man ; there he liveth. For what other place is 
 there for such a soul? There he liveth, whereof he asked 
 much of me, a poor inexperienced man. Now lays he not 
 his ear to my mouth, but his spiritual mouth unto Thy 
 fountain, and drinketh as much as he can receive, wisdom 
 in proportion to his thirst, endlessly happy. Nor do I 
 think that he is so inebriated therewith, as to forget me; 
 seeing Thou, Lord, Whom he drinketh, art mindful of 
 us. But now we tried to comfort Verecundus, who sor- 
 rowed, as far as friendship permitted, that our conversion 
 was of such sort; exhorting him to become faithful, ac- 
 cording to his state of married life ; and expecting Nebri- 
 dius to follow us, who was so near ; and so those days 
 rolled by to the end ; for long and many they seemed, 
 through the love I bare to the easeful liberty, in which I 
 could sing to Thee from my inmost marrow. My heart 
 hath said unto Tliee, I have sought Thy face : Thy face. 
 Lord, will I seek. 
 
 [VI.] 7. Now was the day come, wherein I was indeed 
 to be freed of ray Rhetoric Professorship, whereof in 
 
148 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 thought I was already freed. And it was done. Thou 
 didst rescue my tongue, whence Thou hadst before res- 
 cued my heart. And I blessed Thee, rejoicing, with all 
 ray friends at the villa. My books bear witness what I 
 there did in writing, which was now enlisted in Thy ser- 
 vice, though still, in this breathing-time as it were, I was 
 panting from the school of pride. My Epistles show how 
 I debated with others, how with myself alone, before 
 Thee; how with Nebridius, who was absent. And when 
 shall I have time to rehearse all Thy great benefits towards 
 me at that time ; especially when hasting on to yet greater 
 mercies ? My remembrance recalls me, and pleasant is 
 it to me, O Lord, to confess to Thee, by what inward 
 goads Thou tamedst me ; and how Thou hast humbled 
 me, lowering the mountains and hills of my high imagina- 
 tions, straightening my crookedness, and smoothing my 
 rough loays ; and how Thou also subduedst the brother 
 of my heart, Alypius, unto the Name of Thy Only Be- 
 gotten, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, which he would 
 not at first vouchsafe to have inserted in our writings. 
 For rather would he have them savor of the lofty cedars 
 of the Schools, which the Lord hath now broken down, 
 than of the, wholesome herbs of the Church, the antidote 
 against serpents. 
 
 8. O, my God ! in what accents spake I unto Thee, 
 when I read the Psalms of David, those faithful songs, 
 and sounds of devotion, which allow of no swelling spirit, 
 as yet a Catechumen, and a novice in Thy love, resting 
 in that villa, with Alypius, a Catechumen, my mother 
 cleaving to us, in female garb with masculine faith, with 
 the tranquillity of age, motherly love. Christian piety. 
 What accents did I utter unto Thee in those Psalms, and 
 how was I kindled towards Thee, and on fire to rehearse 
 them, if possible, through the whole world, against the 
 pride of mankind. And they are sung through the whble 
 world, nor can any hide himself from Thy heat. With 
 what vehement and bitter sorrow was I angered at the 
 Manichees 1 and again I pitied them, because they Knew 
 not those Sacraments, those medicines, and were mad 
 against the antidote, which might have recovered them of 
 their madness. How I would they had then been some- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 149 
 
 where near me, and without my knowing that they were 
 there, could have beheld my countenance, and heard my 
 words, when I read the fourth Psalm in that time of my 
 rest, and how that Psalm wrought upon me, When I 
 called, the God of my righteousness heard me ; in tribu- 
 lation Thou enlargedst me. Have mercy upon me, O 
 Lord, and hear my prayer. Would that what I uttered 
 on these words, they could have heard, without my know- 
 ing that they heard, lest they should think I spake it for 
 their sakes ! For, in truth, neither should I speak the 
 same things, nor in the same way, if I perceived that 
 they heard and saw me ; nor if I spake them would they 
 so receive Ihem, as when I spake by and for myself before 
 Thee, out of the natural feelings of my soul. 
 
 9. I trembled for fear, and again kindled with hope, 
 and with rejoicing in Thy mercy, O Father ; and all is- 
 sued forth by mine eyes and voice, when Thy good Spirit 
 turning unto us, said, O ye sons of men, how long slow of 
 heart ? why do ye love vanity, and seek after leasing ? For 
 I had loved vanity, and sought after leasing. And Thou, 
 O Lord, hadst already magnified Thy Holy One, raising 
 Him from the dead, and setting Him at Thy right hand, 
 whence from on high He should send His promise, the 
 Comforter, the Spirit of Truth. And He had already 
 sent Him, but I knew it not. He had sent him because 
 He was now magnified, rising again from the dead, and 
 ascending into heaven. For till then, the Spirit was 
 not yet given, because Jesus was not yet glorified. And 
 the prophet cries out, How long, slow of heart ? why 
 do ye love vanity, and seek after leasing ? Know this, 
 that the Lord hath magnified His Holy One. He cries 
 out, How long ? He cries out. Know this : and I so 
 long, not knowing, loved vanity, and sought after leas- 
 ing : and therefore I heard and trembled, because it 
 was spoken unto such as I remembered myself to have 
 been. For in those phantoms which I had held for truths, 
 was there vanity and leasing ; and I spake aloud many 
 things earnestly and forcibly, in the bitterness of my re- 
 membrance. Which would they have heard who yet love 
 vanity and seek after leasing ! They would perchance 
 have been troubled, and have vomited it up ; and Thou 
 
150 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 wouldest hear them when they cried unto Thee ; for by a 
 true death in the flesh did He die for us, who now inter- 
 cedeth unto Thee for us. 
 
 10. I further read, lie angry, and sin not. And how 
 was I moved, O my God, who had now learned to be an- 
 gry at myself for things past, that I might not sin in time 
 to come ! Yea, to be justly angry ; for it was not another 
 nature of dark spirits which sinned for me, as they say 
 who are not angry at themselves, and treasure up wrath 
 against the dity of wrath, and of the revelation of Thy 
 just judgment. Nor were my good things sought without, 
 nor with the feyes of flesh in the earthly sun ; for they 
 that would have joy from without soon become vain, and 
 waste themselves on the things seen, and temporal, and in 
 their famished thoughts do lick their very shadows. O, 
 that they were wearied out with their famine, and said. 
 Who will shotb us good things ? Then we would say. 
 The light of Thy countenanee is sealed upon us. For we 
 are not that light which enlighteneth every man, hui we 
 ai'e enlightened by Thee ; that, having been sometimes 
 darkness, we may be light in Thee. O, that they could 
 see the Eternal internal, which, having tasted, I was 
 grieved that I could not show It them, so long as they 
 brought me their heart Iti their eyfes, roving abroad from 
 Thee, while they said. Who will show us good things ? 
 For there, where I was angry within myself in my cham- 
 ber, where I was inwardly pricked, where I had sacrificed, 
 slaying my old man and commencing the purpose of a 
 new life, putting my trust in Thee — there hadst Thou 
 begun to grow sweet unto me, and hadst put gladness iri 
 my heart. And I cried out, as I read this outwardly, and 
 found it inwardly. Nor would I be multiplied with worldly 
 goods ; wasting away time, and wasted by time ; for I had in 
 Thy eternal Simple Essence other corn, and wine, and oil. 
 
 11. And with a loud cry of my heart I cried out in the 
 next verse, O in peace, O for The Self-Same ! O what 
 said he, I will lay me down and sleep, for who shall hinder 
 us, when comeih to pass that saying which is written, 
 Death is swalloioed up in victory ? And Thou surpassingly 
 art the Self-Same, Who art not changed; and in Thee is 
 rest which forgetteth all toil, for there is none other with 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 151 
 
 Thee, nor are we to seek those Jnany^hertliinagj^ which 
 are not what Thou art : huTTWSj'Lordl'atone^hast made 
 me dwell in hope. I read, and kindled ; nor found I what 
 to do to those deaf and dead, of whom I had been, a 
 pestilent person, a bitter and a blind bawler against those 
 writings, which are honied with the honey of heaven, and 
 lightsome with Thine own light : and I was consumed 
 with zeal at the enemies of this Scripture. 
 
 12. When shall I recall all which passed in those holy- 
 days 1. Yet neither have I forgotten, nor will I pass over 
 tha severity of Thy scourge, and the wonderful swiftness 
 of Thy mercy. Thou didst then torment me with pain 
 in my teeth ; which when it had come to such height that 
 I could not speak, it came into my heart to desire all my 
 friends present; to pray for me to Thee, the God of all 
 manner of health. And this I wrote on wax, and gave it 
 them to read. , Presently, so soon as with humble devo- 
 tion we had bowed our knees, that pain went away. 
 But what pain ? or how went it away ? I was affrighted, 
 O my Lord, my God ; for from infancy I had never expe- 
 rienced thelike. And the power of Thy Nod was deeply 
 conveyed to me, and rejoicing in faith, I praised Thy 
 Name. And that faith suffered me not to be at ease about 
 my past sins, which were not y-et forgiven me by Thy 
 baptism. 
 
 [v.] 13. The vintage-vacation ended, I gave notice to 
 the Milanese to provide their scholars with another master 
 to sell words to them ; for that I had both made choice to 
 serve Thee, and through my difficulty of breathing and 
 pain in my chest, was not equal to the Professorship. And 
 by letters I signified to Thy Prelate, the holy man Am- 
 brose, my former errors and present desires, begging his 
 advice what of Thy Scriptures I had best read, to become 
 readier and fitter for receiving so great grace. He recom- 
 mended Isaiah, the Prophet : I believe, because he above 
 the rest is a more clear foreshewer of the Gospel and of 
 the calling of the Gentiles, But I, not understanding the 
 first Lesson in him, and imagining the whole to be like it 
 laid it by to be resumed hereafter, being as yet less versed 
 in these than in the words of our Lord. 
 
 [VI.] 14. When the time was come, wherein I was to 
 
153 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 give in my name for baptism, we left the country and return- 
 ed to Milan. It pleased Alypius also to be, at the same time, 
 born again in Thee, being already clothed with the hu- 
 mility befitting Thy sacraments, and a most valiant tamer 
 of the body, so as, with unwonted venture, to wear the 
 frozen ground of Italy with his bare feet. We joined with 
 us the boy Adeodatus, born after the flesh, of my sin. Ex- 
 cellently hadst thou made him. He was not quite fifteen, 
 and in wit surpassed many grave and learned men. I con- 
 fess unto Thee Thy gifts, O Lord my God, Creator of all, 
 and abundantly able to reform our deformities : for I had 
 no part in that boy, but the sin. If I brought him up in 
 Thy discipline, it was Thou, none else, had inspired me 
 to it. I confess unto Thee Thy gifts. There is a book 
 of ours entitled The Master ; it is a dialogue between 
 him and me. Thou knowest that all there ascribed to 
 the person conversing with me, were his ideas, in his six- 
 teenth year. Much besides, and yet more admirable, I 
 found in him. His talent struck awe into me. And who 
 but Thou could be the workmaster of such wonders? 
 Soon didst Thou take his life from the earth : and I now 
 remember him without anxiety, fearing nothing for his 
 childhood or youth, or his whole self Him we joined with 
 us, our contemporary in grace, to be brought up in Thy 
 discipline; and we were baptized, and anxiety for our past 
 life vanished from us. Nor was I sated in those days with 
 the wondrous sweetness of considering the depth of Thy 
 counsels concerning the salvation of mankind. How did 
 I weep, in Thy Hymns and Canticles, touched to the 
 quick by the voices of thy sweet-attuned Church ! The 
 voices flowed into mine ears, and the Truth distilled into 
 my heart, whence the affections of my devotion overflow- 
 ed, and tears ran down, and happy was I therein. 
 
 [VII.] 15. Not long had the Church of Milan begun 
 to use this kind of consolation and exhortation, the breth- 
 ren zealously joining with harmony of voice and hearts. 
 For it was a year, or not much more, that Justina, moth- 
 er to the Emperor Valentinian, a child, persecuted Thy 
 servatnt Ambrose, in favor of her heresy, to which she was 
 seduced by the Arians. The devout people kept watch in 
 the Church, ready to die with their Bishop, Thy servant. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 153 
 
 There my mother, Thy handmaid, bearing a chief part of 
 those anxieties and watchings, lived for prayer. We, as 
 yet unwarmed by the heat of Thy Spirit, still were stirred 
 up by the sight of the amazed and disquieted city. Then 
 it was first instituted that after the manner of the Eastern 
 Churches, Hymns and Psalms should be sung, lest the 
 people should wax faint, through the tediousness of sor- 
 row : and from that day to this the custom is retained, di- 
 vers, yea, almost all Thy congregations, throughout other 
 parts of the world following herein. 
 
 16. Then didst Thou by a vision discover to Thy fore- 
 named Bishop, where the bodies of Gervasius and Prota- 
 sius, the martyrs, lay hid, (whom Thou hadst in Thy secret 
 treasury stored uncorrupted so many years,) whence Thou 
 mightest seasonably produce them to repress the fury of a 
 vvoman, but an Empress. For when they were discover- 
 ed and dug up, and with due honor translated to the Am- 
 brosian Basilica, not only they who were vexed with un- 
 clean spirits (the devils confessing themselves) were cured, 
 but a certain man, who had for many years been blind, a 
 citizen, and well known to the city, asking and hearing 
 the reason of the people's confused joy, sprang forth, de- 
 siring his guide to lead him thither. Led thither, he beg- 
 ged to be allowed to touch with his handkerchief the bier 
 of Thy saints, whose death is precious in Thy sight. 
 Which when he had done, and put to his eyes, they were 
 forthwith opened. Thence did the fame spread, thence 
 Thy praises glowed, shone; thence the mind of that ene- 
 my, though not turned to the soundness of believing, was 
 yet turned back from her fury of persecuting. Thanks to 
 Thee, O my God. Whence and whither hast Thou thus 
 led my remembrance, that I should confess these things 
 also unto Thee 1 which great though they be, I had passed 
 by in forgetfulness. And yet then, when the odor of Thy 
 Ointment was so frargant, did we not run after Thee. 
 Therefore did I more weep among the singing of Thy 
 Hymns, formerly sighing after Thee, and at length breath- 
 ing in Thee, as far as the breath may enter into this our 
 house of grass. 
 
 [ Vin.] 17. Thou that makest men to dwell of one mind 
 in one house, didst join with us Euodius also, a young man 
 13 
 
154 coNrjBssioNS op 
 
 of our own city ; an officer of court, who before us had 
 been converted to Thee, and baptized, and quitting his 
 secular warfare, girdest himself to Thine. We were to- 
 gether, about to dwell together in our devout purpose ; 
 and seeing where we might serve Thee most usefully, 
 were returning to Africa : but when we come to Ostia, 
 my mother departed this life. lomjtjmuchJiumy-stQry : 
 Receive my confessions and tKanksgivings, O my God, 
 for innumerabFe things whereof I am silent. But I will 
 not omit whatsoever my soul would bring forth concern- 
 ing Thy handmaid who brought me forth, both in the 
 flesh, that I might be born to this temporal light, and in 
 heart, that I might be .born to Light eternal. Not her 
 gifts, but Thine in her, would I speak of; for neither did 
 she make nor educate herself. Thou createdst her ; nor 
 did her father and mother know what creature should 
 come from them. The sceptre of Thy Christ, the disci- 
 pline of Thine only Son, in a Christian house, a good 
 member of Thy Church, educated her in Thy feaji. Yet 
 for her good discipline, was she wont to commend not so 
 much her mother's diligence, as that of a certain decrepit 
 maid-servant, who had carried her father when a child. 
 For which reason, and for her great age, and excellent 
 conversation, she was well respected in that Christian fam- 
 ily; and the chargeof her master's daughters was entrust- 
 ed to her ; to which she gave diligent heed, restraining 
 them when necessary, with a holy severity, and teaching 
 them with a grave discretion. For, except at those hours 
 wherein they were most temperately fed at their parents' 
 table, she would not suffer them, though parched with 
 thirst, to drink even water; preventing an evil custom, 
 and adding this wholesome advice; " Ye drink water now, 
 because ye have not wine in your power ; but when you 
 come to be married, and be made mistresses of cellars and 
 cupboards, you will scorn water, but the custom of drink- 
 ing will abide." By this method of instruction, and the 
 authority she had, she abated the greediness of childhood, 
 and moulded their very thirst to such an excellent mode- 
 ration, that they would not what was wrong. 
 
 18. And yet (as Thy handmaid told me her son) there 
 had crept upon her a love of wine. For when (as the cus- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 155 
 
 torn was) she was bidden by her parents to draw wine out 
 of the hogshead, before she poured it into the flagon, she 
 sipped a little with the tip of her lips. More tfer instinc- 
 tive feelings refused ; fop she did even this not out of any 
 desire of drink, but out of the exuberance of youth, which 
 boils over in mirthful freaks wontto be kept under by the 
 gravity of the old. But by adding to that little, daily a 
 little, (for whoso despiseth little things, shall fall hy little 
 and little,) she had fallen into such a habit, as greedily to 
 drink off her little cup brim-full almost of wine. Where 
 then was that discreet old woman, and her earnest coun- 
 termanding? Would aught avail against a secret disease, 
 if Thy heading hand, O Lord, watched not over us? Fath- 
 er, mother, and governors absent. Thou present, who cre- 
 atedst, who callest, who also by those set over us, workest 
 something towards the salvation of our souls, what didst 
 thou then, O my God? how didst Thou cure her? how 
 heal her? didst Thou not out of another soul bring forth 
 a hard^and sharp taunt, like a lancet out of Thy secret 
 store, and with one touch remove all that foul stuff? For 
 a maid-servant, with whom she used to go to the cellar, 
 falling to words (as it happens) with her little mistress, 
 when alone with her, taunted her with this fault, with 
 most bitter insult, calling her wine-bibber. With which 
 taunt, stung to the quick, she saw the foulness of her 
 fault and instantly condemned and forsook it. As flat- 
 tering friends pervert, so reproachful enemies often cor- 
 rect. Yet by what themselves purposed, not what Thou 
 doest by them, dost Thou repay them. She in her anger 
 sought to vex her young mistress, not to amend her ; and 
 did it in private, either by chance, or lest she should be 
 blamed for discovering it thus late. But Thou, Lord, Gov- 
 ernor of all in heaven and earth, who turnest to thy pur- 
 poses the deepest currents, and the ruled turbulence of 
 the tide of times, didst by the very unhealthiness of one 
 soul heal another ; lest any, when he observes this, should 
 ascribe it to his own power, even when another, whom he 
 wished to be reformed, is reformed through words of his. 
 [IX.] 19. Brought up thus modestly and soberly, and 
 made subject rather by Thee to her parents, than by her 
 parents to Thee, so soon as she was of marriageable age, 
 
156 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 being bestowed upon a husbantl, she served him as her 
 lord ; and did her diligence to win him unto Thee, preach- 
 ing Thee unto him by her conversation ; by which Thou 
 madest her beautiful in his eyes, reverently amiable, and 
 even admirable. And she so endured the wronging of 
 her bed, as never to have any quarrel with her husband 
 thereon. For she looked for Thy mercy upon him , that 
 believing in Thee, he might be made chaste. But be- 
 sides this, he was fervid, as in his affections, so in anger : 
 and she had learnt not to resist an angry husband, even 
 in word. Only when he was smoothed and tranquil, and 
 in a temper to receive it, she would give an account of 
 her actions, if haply he had over-hastily taken offence. In 
 a word, while many matrons, who had milder husbands, 
 yet bore even in their faces marks of blows, and would in 
 familiar talk blame their husbands' lives, she would blame 
 their tongues, giving them, as in jest, earnest advice; 
 " That from the time they heard the marriage writings 
 read to them, they should account them as indentures, 
 whereby they were made servants ; and so rememberiag 
 their condition, not set themselves up against their lords." 
 And when they (knowing what a choleric husband she 
 endured marvelled, t,hat it had never been heard, nor. by 
 any token perceived that Patricias had beaten his wife, or 
 that there had been any domestic difference between them, 
 even for one day,) and confidentially asked the reason, she 
 taught them her practice above mentioned. Those wives 
 who observed it, found benefit and thanked her ; those who 
 observed it not, found no relief, and suffered. 
 
 20. Her raother-in-law also, at first by whisperings of 
 evil servants incensed against her, was so overcome by her 
 persevering endurance and meekness, that of her own ac- 
 coyd she discovered to her son the meddling tongues, 
 whereby the domestic peace betwixt her and her daughter- 
 in-law had been disturbed, asking him to correct them. 
 Then, when in compliance with his mother, and for the 
 well-ordering of the family, and the harmony of its memi? 
 hers, he with stripes corrected them, she promised the like 
 recompense to any who should thereafter speak ill of her 
 daughter-in-law : and, none now venturing, they lived tO", 
 gether with a rerriarkable sweetness of mutual kindness. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 157 
 
 21. This great gift also Thou bestowedst, O my God, 
 my mercy, upon that good handmaid of Thine, in whose 
 womb thou createdst me, that between any disagreeing 
 and discordant parties, where she was able, she shewed 
 herself such a peacemaker, that hearing, oil both sides, 
 most bitter things, such as swelling and indigested choler 
 uses to break out into, when the crudities of enmities are 
 breathed out in sour discourses to a present friend, against 
 an absent enemy, slie never would disclose aught of the 
 one unto the other, but what might tend to their recon- 
 cilement. A small good this might appear to me, did I 
 not to my grief know numberless persons, who through 
 some horrible and wide-spreading contagion of sin, not 
 only disclose to persons mutually angered, things said in 
 anger, but add withal things never spoken, whereas to hu- 
 mane humanity, it ought to seem a light thing, not to fo- 
 ment or increase ill will by ill words, unless one study 
 withal by good words to quench it. Such was she. Thy- 
 self her most inward Instructor, teaching her in the school 
 of the heart. 
 
 22. Finally, her own husband, towards the very end of 
 his earthly life, did she gain unto Thee ; nor had she to 
 complain after he became a Christian of what, before he 
 was a believer, she had borne from him. She was also the 
 servant of Thy servants ; whosoever of them knew her, 
 did much praise and honor and love Thee in her ; for 
 through the witness of the fruits of a holy conversation 
 they perceived Thy presence in her heart. For she had 
 been the wife of one man, had requited her parents, had 
 governed her house piously, was well reported of for good 
 works, had brought up children, travailing in birth of them, 
 as often as she saw them swerving from Thee. Lastly, 
 as though she had been mother of us all ; she took care of 
 all Thy servants, O Lord, (whom on occasion of Thy own 
 gift Thou sufferest to speak,) of us, who before her sleep- 
 ing in Thee, lived united together, having received the 
 grace of Thy baptism, and served us, as though she had 
 been child to us all. 
 
 [X.] 23. The day now approaching whereon she was 
 to depart this life, (which day Thou well knewest, but we 
 knew not,) it came to pass, Thyself, as I believe, by Thy 
 13* 
 
158 fONFKSSIONS OP 
 
 secret ways so ordering it, that she and I stood' alone, 
 leaning in a certain window, which looked into the gar- 
 den of the house where we now lay, at Ostia ; where, re- 
 moved from the din of men, we were recruiting from the 
 fatigues of a long journey, for the voyage. We were dis- 
 coursing then together, alone, very sweetly ; and forget- 
 ting those things which arc behind, and reaching forth 
 unto those things, mhich are before, we were inquiring be- 
 tween ourselves in the presence of the, Truth, which Thou 
 art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, 
 lohich eye hath not seen, nor ear. heard, nor hath it entered 
 into the heart of man. But yet we gasped with the mouth 
 of our heart, after those heavenly streams of Thy foun- 
 tain, the fountain of life, which is with Thee ; that being 
 bedewed thence according to our capacity, we might in 
 some sort meditate upon so high a mystery. 
 
 24. And when our discourse was brought to that point, 
 that the very highest delight of the earthly senses, in the 
 very purest material light, was, in respect of the sweetness 
 of that life, not only not worthy of comparisoi\, but not 
 even of mention ; we, raising up ourselves with a more 
 glowing affection towards the " Self-Same," did by de- 
 grees pass through all things bodily, even the very heaven, 
 whence sun and moon, and stars, shine upon . the earth ; 
 yea, we vvere soaring higher yet, by inward, musing, and 
 discourse^ and admiring of Thy works ; and we came to 
 our own minds, and went beyond them, that we might ar- 
 rive at that region of never-failing plenty, where Thou 
 feedest. Israel for ever with the food of truth, and where 
 life- is the. very Wisdom by whom all these things are made, 
 both what have been, and what shall be. But wisdom is 
 not made, but is, as she hath been, and so shall she be 
 ever ; yea, rather to " have been," and " hereafter to be," 
 are not in her, but only "to be," seeing she is eternal.; 
 For to " have been," and to " be hereafter,'' are not eter- 
 nal. And while we vvere discoursing and panting' after> 
 her, we slightly touched on her with the whole effort of • 
 our heart ; and we sighed, and there we leave bound the 
 frst-fruits of the Spirit ^ and returned to the noise of 
 language again, where the word spoken has beginning 
 and. end. And what is like unto Thy Word,- our Lord, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 159 
 
 who endureth in Himself without becoming old, and 
 maketh all things new ? 
 
 25. We were saying then : Let the tumult of the flesh 
 be hushed ; hushed the images of earth, and waters, and 
 air ; hushed also the poles of heaven, yea the very soul 
 be hashed to herself, and so by not thinking on self sur- 
 mount itself; hushed all dreams and imaginary revela- 
 tions, every tongue and every sign, and whatsoever exists 
 only in transition, if those things can be hushed which 
 say. We made not ourselves, hut He made us that ahideth 
 for ever. I^et them too be hushed, having rouSed only 
 our ears to Him who made them, and let Him alone 
 speak, not by them, but by Himself, that we may hear His 
 Word, not through any tongue of flesh,' nor Angel's 
 voice, nor sound of thunder, nor in the dark riddle of a 
 similitude, but Himself whom we love in these and with- 
 out these. As we two now strained ourselves, and in 
 swifl; thought touched on that Eternal Wisdom, which 
 abideth over all, we said : could this be continued on, and 
 other visions of kind far unlike be withdravvn, while this 
 ravished, and absorbed, and wrapped up its beholder amid 
 these inward joys, so that life were for ever like that one 
 moment of understanding which now we sighed after ; 
 were not this, Enter into thy Master's joy ? And when 
 shall that h&l When we shail all rise again, though we 
 shall not all be changed ? 
 
 26. Such things was T'speaiing, and even if not in this' 
 very manner, and • these same words, yet. Lord, Thou 
 knowest,: that in that day when we were speaking of these 
 things, and this world with all its delights became, as we 
 spake, contemptible to us, my mother said, " Son, for 
 mine own part 1 have no further delight in any thing in 
 this' life. What I do here any longer, and to what end I 
 am here, I know not, now that irty hopes in this world are 
 accotnplished; One thing there was, for which I desired 
 to^liiiger for a while in this life, that I might see thee a 
 Catholic Christian before I died. My, God hath done this 
 for me more abundantly, in that I now see thee despising 
 earthly happiness, and become His servant : why do I 
 linger d" 
 
 [XI.] 27. What answer I made her, I remember not. 
 
160 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 For scarce five days after, or not much more, she fell sick 
 of a fever ; and in that sickness one day she fell into a 
 swoon, and was for a while withdrawn from these visible 
 things. We hastened round her; but she was soon 
 /brought back to her senses; and looking on me and my 
 brother standing by her, said to us inquiringly, " Where 
 was I V And then looking fixedly on us, who were 
 amazed with grief, she said : " Here shall you bury your 
 mother." I held my peace, and refrained weeping ; but 
 ray brother spake something, wishing for her, as the hap- 
 pier lot, that she might die, not in a strange place, but in 
 her own land. Whereat, with anxious look, checking him 
 with her eyes, because he still savored such things, and 
 looking upon me, " Behold," saith she, " what he saith :" 
 and soon after to us both : " Lay this body any where ; 
 let not the care for that any way disquiet you : this only I 
 request, that you would remember me at the Lord's altar, 
 wherever you be." And haying delivered this sentiment 
 in what words she could, she held her peace, being exer- 
 cised by her growing sickness. 
 
 28. But I, considering Thy gifts, Thou unseen God, 
 which Thou instillest into the hearts of Thy faithful ones, 
 whence wondrous fruits do spring, did rejoice and give 
 thanks to Thee, recalling what I before knew, how care- 
 ful and anxious she had ever been, as to her place of bu- 
 rial, which she had provided and prepared for herself, by 
 the body of her husband. For because they had lived 
 in great harmony together, she also wished (so little can 
 the human mind embrace things divine) to have this ad- 
 dition to that happiness, and to have it remembered among 
 men, that after her pilgrimage beyond the seas, what was 
 earthly of this united pair had been permitted to be united 
 beneath the same earth. When this vanity, through the 
 fulness of Thy goodness, began to cease in her heart," I 
 knew not, but I rejoiced that it was so ; though indeed in 
 our discourse in the window, when she said, " What do I 
 here any longer V there appeared no desire of dying in 
 her own country. I heard afterwards, also, that while we 
 were at Ostia, when I was absent one day, she was dis- 
 coursing with certain of my friends about the contempt 
 of this life and the blessings of death ; and when they 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. ' 161 
 
 were amazed at such courage which Thou hadst given to 
 a woman, and asked, " Whether she were not afraid to 
 leave her body. so far from her own city ?" she replied, 
 " Nothing is far to God ; nor is it to be feared at the end 
 of the world that He should not recognize whence to raise 
 me up." On the ninth day then of herisickness, and the 
 fifty-sixth year of her age, and the three and thirtieth of 
 mine, was that religious and holy soul freed from thei 
 body. 
 
 [XII.] 29. Iclosed her eyes; and there flowed withal 
 a mighty sorrow into my heart, which was overflowing 
 into tears ; mine eyes, at the same time, by the violent 
 command of my mind, drank up their fountain wholly 
 dry ; and woe was me in such a strife ! But when she 
 breathed her last, the boy Adeodatus-burst out into a loud 
 lament ; then, checked by us all, held his peace. In like 
 manner, also, a childish feeling in rde, which was finding 
 its vent in weeping, was checked and silenced. For we 
 thought it not fitting to solemnize that funeral with tear- 
 ful lament and groaniilgs, as though she were unhappy or 
 altogether dead ; whereas she was neither unhappy in hter 
 death, nor altogether dead. Of this we were assured on 
 good grounds : the testimony of her good Conversation 
 and her faith unfeigned. 
 
 30. What then was it which did grievously pain me 
 withia, but a fresh wound, wrought through the sudden 
 wrench of our most sweet and dear custom of living to- 
 gether ? I joyed indeed in one testimony of her last 
 sickness, that mingling her endearments with my acts of 
 duty, she called me "dutifial," and mentioned, with great 
 affection of love, that she never had heard any harsh or 
 reproachful sound uttered by my mouth against her. But 
 yet, O God, what comparison is there betwixt that hoil- 
 or that I paid to her, and her slavery for me ? Being then 
 deprived of so great comfort in her, my soul was wounded, 
 and the life rent asunder as it were, which, of hers and 
 mine together, had been made but one. 
 
 31. The boy being stilled from weeping, Euodius took 
 up the Psalter, and began to sing the Psalm, I will sing 
 of mercy and judgment to Thee, O Lord, the whole house 
 answering. But hearing what we were doing, many 
 
162 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 brethren and religious women came together ; and whilst 
 they, (whose office it was,) made ready for the burial, as 
 the manner is, 1, (in another part of the house,) together 
 with those who thought not fit to leave me, discoursed 
 upon something fitting the time ; and by this balm of 
 truth, I assuaged that torment known to Thee, and which 
 they, listening attentively, knew not, conceiving me to be 
 without all sense of Sorrow. But before Thee, where 
 none of them heard, I blamed the weakness of my feelings, 
 and refrained my flood of grief, a little, but again it came, 
 as with a tide, yet not so as to burst out into tears, nor to 
 a change of countenance ; still I knew what I was keep- 
 ing down in my heart. And being very much displeased, 
 that these human things had such power over me, which 
 in the due order and appointment of our natural condi- 
 tion, must needs come to pass, with a new grief I grieved 
 for my grief, and was thus worn by a double sorrow. 
 
 32. And behold, when the corpse was carried to the 
 burial, we went and returned without tears. For neither 
 in those prayers which we poured forth unto Thee, when 
 the sacrifice of our ransom was oifered for her, (the corpse 
 being by the grave's side, as the manner there is, previous 
 to its being laid therein,) did I weep even during those 
 prayers ; yet was I the whole day in secret heavily sad, 
 and with troubled mind prayed Thee, as I could, to heal 
 my sorrow, yet Thou didst not ; impressing, I believe, 
 upon my memory, by this one instance, how strong is the 
 bond of all habit, even upon a soul, which now feeds upon 
 no deceiving Word. It seemed also good to me to go and 
 bathe, having heard that the bath had its name (balneum) 
 from the Greek BalaveXov^ for that it drives sadness from 
 the mind. And this also I confess unto Thy mercy. 
 Father of the Fatherless, that I bathed, and was the same 
 as before I bathed. For the bitterness of sorrow could 
 not be assuaged by bathing. But when I slept, and woke 
 up again, I found my grief not a little softened ; and as I 
 was alone in my bed, I remembered those true verses of 
 Thy Ambrose. For Thou art the 
 
 Maker of all, the Lord, 
 
 And Ruler of the height, 
 Who, robing day in light, hast poured 
 
 Soft slumbers o'er the night, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 163 
 
 That to our limbs the power 
 
 Of toil may be renew'd, 
 And hearts be rais'd that sink and cower, 
 
 And sorrows be subdu'd. 
 
 33. And then by little and little I recovered my former 
 thoughts of Thy handmaid, her holy conversation towards 
 Thee, her holy tenderness and observance towards us, 
 whereof! was suddenly deprived : and I was minded to 
 weep in Thy sight, for her and for myself, in her behalf 
 and in my own. And I gave way to the tears which I 
 before restrained, reposing my heart upon them ; and it 
 found vest in theSn, for it was in Thy ears, nst-in those of 
 man, who would have scornfully interpreted my weeping. 
 And now, Lord, in writing I confess it unto Thee: Read 
 it, who will, and interpret it, how he will : and if he finds 
 sin therein, that I wept my mother for a small portion of 
 an hour, (the mother who for the time was dead to mine 
 eyes, who had for many years wept for me, that I might 
 live in Thine eyes,) let him not deride me; but rather, if 
 he be one of large charity, let him weep himself for my 
 sins unto Thee, the Father of all the brethren of Thy 
 Christ. 
 
 [XIII.] 34. But now, with a heart cured of that wound, 
 wherein it might seem blameworthy for an earthly feeling, 
 I pour out unto Thee, our God, in behalf of that Thy 
 handmaid, a far different kind of tears, flowing from a 
 spirit shaken by the thoughts of the dangers of every soul 
 that dieth in Adam.' And although she having been 
 quickened in Christ, even before her release from the 
 flesh, had liverd to the praise of Thy name for her faith 
 and conversation ; yet dare I not say-that from what time 
 Thou regeneratedst her by baptism, no word issued from 
 her mouth against Thy Commandment. Thy Son, the 
 Truth, hath said. Whosoever shall say unto his brother, 
 Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. And woe be 
 even unto the commendable life of men, if, laying aside 
 mercy. Thou shouldest examine it. But because Thou 
 art not extreme in inquiring after s5ns, we confidently 
 hope to find some place with Thee. But whosoever 
 reckons up his real merits to Thee, what reckons he up 
 to Thee, but Thine own gifts ? O that men would know 
 
164 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 themselves to be men ; and that -he that glorieth, would 
 glory in the Lord. 
 
 35. I therefore, O my Praise and my Life, God of my 
 heart, laying aside for a while her good deeds, for which 
 I give thanks to Thee with joy, do now beseech Thee for 
 the sins of ray mother. Hearken unto me, I entreat Thee, 
 by the Medicine of our wounds, Who hung upon the tree, 
 and now sitting at Thy right hand maketh intercession to 
 Thee for us. I know that she dealt mercifully, and from 
 her heart forgave her debtors their dehts ; do Thou also 
 forgive her debts, whatever she may have contracted in so 
 
 many years, since the water of salvation. Forgive her, 
 Lord, forgive, I beseech Thee ; enter not into judgment 
 with her. Let Thy mercy he exalted above Thy justice, 
 since Thy words are true, and Thou hast promised mercy 
 unto the merciful ; whom Thou raadest merciful, who wilt 
 have mercy on whom Thou wilt have mercy ; and wilt have 
 compassion, on whom Thou hast had compassion. 
 
 36. And, I believe. Thou hast already done what I 
 ask ; but accept, O Lord, the free-will offerings of my 
 mouth. ' For she, the day of her dissolution now at hand, 
 took no thought to have her body sumptuously wound up, 
 or embalmed with spices ; nor desired she a choice mon- 
 ument, or to be buried in her own land. These things 
 she enjoined us not ; but desired only to have her name 
 commemorated at Thy Altar, which she had served with- 
 out intermission of one day : whence she knew that holy 
 sacrifice to be dispensed, by which the hand-writing that 
 was against us, is blotted out; through which the enemy 
 was triumphed over, who summing up our offences, and 
 seeking what to lay to our chaxge, found nothing in Him, 
 in Whom we conquer. Who shall restore his innocent 
 blood 1 Who repay the price wherewith He bought us, 
 and so take us from Him? Unto the Sacrament of our 
 ransom. Thy handmaid bound her soul by the bond of 
 faith. Let none sever her from Thy protection : let 
 neither the lion nor the dragon interpose himself by force 
 or fraud. For she will not answer tjiat she owes nothing, 
 lest she be convicted and seized by the crafty accuser : 
 but she will answer, that her sin^ are forgiven her by 
 Him, to Whom none can repay that price, which lie, 
 Who owed nothinff, paid for us. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 165 
 
 37. May she rest then in peace with her only husband, 
 whom she obeyed, with patience bringing forth fruit uato 
 Thee, that she might win him also unto Thee. And in- 
 spire, O Lord my God, inspire Thy servants my brethren, 
 Thy sons my masters, whom with voice, and heart, and 
 pen I serve, that so many as shall read these Confessions, 
 may at Thy Altar remember Monnica, Thy handmaid, 
 with Patricius, her husband, by whose bodies Thou 
 broughtest me into this life, I know not how. May they 
 with devout affection remember my parents in this transi- 
 tory light, who are my brethren under Thee our Father 
 in our Catholic Mother, and my fellow citizens in that 
 eternal Jerusalem, which Thy pilgrim people sigheth 
 after from their Exodus, even unto their return thither. 
 That so, my mother's last request of me, may through my 
 confessions, more than through my prayers, be, through 
 the prayers of many, more abundantly fulfilled to her, 
 
 14 
 
166 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 THE TENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustine inquires by what faculty we can know God at all, whence he enlarges 
 on the mysterious character of the memory, wherein God, being made koowD, 
 dwells, but which could not discover Him. Then he examines liis oWn trials, 
 under the triple division of temptation, " lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, end 
 pride 9" what Christian continency prescribes as to each. Christ the Only 
 Mediator, who heals and will heal All infirmities. 
 
 p.] 1. Let me know Thee, OLord, who knowest me : 
 let me know Thee, as I am known. Power of my soul, 
 enter into it, and fit it for Thee, that Thou mayest enjoy 
 it leithout spot or wrinkle. This is my hope, therefore do I 
 speak; and in this hope do I rejoice, when I rejoice 
 healthfully. Other things of this life are the less to be 
 sorrowed for, the more they are sorrowed for ; and the more 
 to be sorrowed for, the less men sorrow for them-. For 
 behold, Thou lovest the truth, and he that doeth it, cometh 
 to the light. This would I do in my heart before Thee in 
 confession; and in my writing, before many witnesses. 
 
 [II.] 2. And from Thee, O Lord, unto whose eyes the 
 abyss of man's conscience is naked, what could be hid- 
 den in me though I would not confess it? I might hide 
 Thee from me, not me from Thee. But now, as my 
 groaning is witness, that I am displeased with myself, and 
 Thou shinest out, and art pleasing, and beloved, and 
 longed for ; that I may be ashamed of myself, and re- 
 nounce myself, and choose Thee, and neither please Thee, 
 nor myself, but in Thee. To Thee, therefore, O Lord, 
 am I open, whatever I am ; and for what reason I confess 
 unto Thee, I have said. Nor do I confess with words 
 and sounds of the flesh, but with the words of my soul, 
 and the cry of the thought which Thy ear knoweth. For 
 when I am evil, to confess to Thee, is nothing else than 
 to be displeased with myself; but when holy, to ascribe 
 glory to Thee : because Thou, O Lord, Uessest the godly, 
 but first Thou justifieih Mm yet ungodly. My confession 
 then, O my God, is made silently, and not silently. For 
 in sound, it is silent ; in afiection, it cries aloud. For 
 neither do I utter any thing right unto men, which Thou 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 167 
 
 hast not before heard from me ; nor dost Thou hear any 
 such thing from me, which Thou hast not first said unto 
 me. 
 
 .[III.] 3. But what have I to do with men, that they 
 should hear my confessions ; as if they could heal all my 
 infirmities 7 A race, curious to know the lives of others, 
 slothful to amend their own. Why seek they to hear from 
 me what I am ; who will not hear from Thee what them- 
 selves are ? And how know they, when from myself they 
 hear of myself, whether I say true ; seeing no man knows 
 what is in man, hut the spirit of man which is in him ? But 
 if they hear from Thee of themselves, they cannot say, 
 '^ The Lord lieth." For what is it to hear from Thee of 
 themsdves, but to kYiow themselves? and who knoweth 
 and saith, "It is false," unless himself lieth ? but because 
 charity believeth all things ; (that is, among those whom 
 knitting unto itself it raak«th one,) I also, O Lord, will in 
 such wise confess unto Thee, that men may hear, to whom 
 I cannot demonstrate whether I confess truly • yet they 
 believe me, whose ears charily openeth unto me. 
 
 4. But do Thou, my inWiost Physician, make plain unto 
 me what fruit I may reap by doing it. Do the confessions 
 of my past sins, which Thou hast forgiven and covered, 
 that Thou mightest bless me in Thee, changing my soul 
 by Faith and Thy Sacrament, when read and heard, stir 
 up the heart, that it sleep not in despair, and say " I can- 
 not," but awake in the love of Thy mercy and the sweet- 
 ness of Thy grace, whereby^ whoso is weak, is strong, 
 when by it he became conscious of his own weakness ? 
 And the good delight to hear of the past evils of such as 
 are now freed from them, not because they are evils, but 
 because they have been and are not. With what fruit 
 then, O Lord my Gbd, (to Whom my conscience daily 
 cbnfesseth, trusting more in the hope of Thy mercy than 
 in her own innocency,) with what fruit, I pray, do I by 
 this book, confess to men in Thy presence, what I now 
 am 1 For the Fruit of knowing what I have been, I have 
 seen and spoken of. But what I now am, at the very time 
 of making these confessions, divers desire to know, who 
 have or have not known me, who have heard from me or 
 of me ; but their ear is not at my heart, where I am, what- 
 
168 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 ever I am. They wish then to hear me confess what I 
 am within ; whither neither their eye, nor ear, nor under- 
 standing, can reach ; they wish it, as ready to believe — 
 butlwill they. know ? For charity, whereby they are good, 
 telleth them that in my confessions I lie not ; and she in 
 them, believeth me. 
 
 [IV.] 5. But for what fruit would they hear this?, do 
 they desire to joy with me, when they hear how near, by 
 Thy gift, I approach unto Thee 1 and to pray for me, when 
 they shall hear how much I am held back by my own 
 weight 1. To such will I discover myself. For it is no 
 mean fruit, O Lord my God, that thanks should be given 
 to Thee on our behalf , and Thou be intreated for us. Let 
 the brotherly mind love in me, what Thou teachest is to 
 be loved, and lament in me, what Thou teachest is to be 
 lamented. Let a brotherly, not a stranger, mind, not that 
 of the strange children, whose mouth talketh of vanity^ and 
 their right hand is a right hand of iniquity, but that broth- 
 erly mind, which when it approveth, rejoiceth for me, and 
 when it disapproveth me, is sorry for me ; because wheth- 
 er it approveth or disapproveth, it loveth me. To such 
 will I discover. myself : they will breathe freely at my good 
 deeds, sigh for my ill. My good deeds are Thine ap- 
 pointments, and Thy gifts ; my evil ones are my offences, 
 asd Thy judgments. Let them breathe freely at the one, 
 sigh at the other ; and let hymns and weeping go up into 
 Thy sight, out of the hearts of my brethren, Thy censfrs. 
 And do Thou, O Lord, be pleased with the incense of 
 Thy holy temple, have mercy upon me according to Thy 
 great mercy for Thine own name's sake ; and no ways for- 
 saking what Thou hast begun, perfect my imperfection?. 
 • 6. This is the fruit of my confessions of what I am, not 
 of what I have been, to confess this, not before Thee only, 
 in a secret exultation with trembling, and a secret sorrow 
 with hope ; but in the ears also of the believing sons of men, 
 sharers of my joy, and partners in my mortality, my fel- 
 low citizens and fellow pilgrims, who are gone before, or 
 are to follow -on, companions of my way. These are Thy 
 servants, piy brethren, whom Thou wiliest to be Thy sons; 
 my masters, whom Thou coramandest me, to serve, if I 
 would live with Thee, of Thee. But this Thy Word were 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 169 
 
 little did it onlycommand by speaking, and not go before 
 in performing. This then 1 do in deed and word, this I 
 do under Thy wings ; in over great peril, were not my 
 soul subdued unto Thee under Thy wings, and my infirm- 
 ity known unto Thee. I am a little one, but my Father 
 ever liveth, and my Guardian is sufficient for me. For He 
 is the same who begat me, and defends rae : and Thou 
 Thyself art all my good ; Thou, Almighty, Who art with 
 me, yea, before I am with Thee; To such then whom 
 Thou commandest me to serve will I discover, not what I 
 have been, but what I now am, and what I yet am. But 
 neither do I judge myself. Thus therefore I would be 
 heard. 
 
 [V.] 7. For Thou, Lord, dost judge me : because, al- 
 though no man knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit 
 of a man which is in him, yet is there something of man, 
 which neither the spirit of man that is in Mm, itself know- 
 eth. But Thou, Lord, knowest all of him. Who hast 
 made him. Yet I, though in Thy sight I despise myself, 
 and account myself dust and ashes ; yet know I something 
 of Thee, which I know not of myself And truly, now we 
 see through a glass darkly, not face to face as yet. So 
 long therefore as I he abscTit from Thee, I am more pres- 
 ent with myself than with Thee ; and yet I know that 
 Thou canst not be violated ; but I know not what tempta- 
 tions I can resist, what I cannot. And there is hope, be- 
 cause Thou art faithful, Who wilt not suffer us to be tempted 
 above that we are able ; but wilt with the temptation also 
 make a way to escape, that we may be able to hear it. I 
 will confess then what I know of myself, I will confess 
 also what I know not of myself. And that because what 
 I do know of myself, I know by Thy shining upon me ; 
 and what I know not of myself, so long know I not it, un- 
 til my darkness be made as the noon-day in Thy counte- 
 nance. 
 
 [VI.] 8. Not with doubting, but with assured Con- 
 sciousness, do I love Thee, Lord. Thou hast stricken my 
 heart with Thy word, and l loved Thee. Yea, also, heav- 
 en, and earth, and all that therein is, on every side bid 
 me love Thee ; nor cease to say so unto all, that they may 
 he without excuse. But more deeply wilt Thou have mer- 
 14* 
 
170 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 cy, on whom Thou wilt have mercy, and compassion on whom 
 Thou hast had compasssion ; else in deaf ears do the heaven 
 and the earth speak Thy praises. But what do I love, 
 when I love Thee ? not the beauty of bodies, nor the fair 
 harmony of time, nor the brightness of the light, so glad- 
 some to our eyes, nor sweet melodies of varied songs, nor 
 the fragrant smell of flowers, and ointments, and spices, 
 not manna and honey, not limbs acceptable to embrace- 
 ments of flesh. None of these I love, when I love my God ; 
 and yet I love a kind of light, a kind of melody, a kind of 
 fragrance, a kind of meat, and a kind of embracement, 
 when I love my God, the light, the melody, the fragrance, 
 meat, the embracement of the inner man : where thereshin- 
 eth unto my soul, what space cannot contain, and there 
 soundeth, what time beareth not away, and there smelleth; 
 what breathing disperseth not, and there tastetb, what eat- 
 ing diminisheth not, and there clingeth, what satiety di- 
 vorceth not. This is it which I. love, when I love my God. 
 9. And what is this? I asked the earth, and it answer- 
 ed me, " I am not He; and whatsoever are in it, confess- 
 ed the same. I asked the sea and the deeps, and the Jiv- 
 ing creeping things, and they answered, " We are not thy 
 God, seek Hira above us." I asked the moving air; and 
 the whole air with his inhabitants answered, " Anaxime- 
 nes was deceived ; I am not God." I asked the heavens, 
 sun, moon, stars, " Nor (say they) are we the God whom 
 thou seekest." And I replied unto all the things which 
 encompass the door of my flesh ; " Ye have told me of my 
 God, that ye are not He ; tell me something of Him." And 
 they cried out with a loud voice, " He made us." My 
 questioning them, was my thoughts on them : and their 
 form of beauty gave the answer. And I turned myself 
 unto myself, and said to myself, "Who art thou? " And 
 I answered, " A man." And behold, in me there present 
 themselves to me soul and body, one without, the other 
 within. By which of these ought I to seek my God ? I 
 had sought Him in the body from earth to heaven, so far 
 as I could send messengers, the beams of mine eyes. But 
 the better is the inner, for to it as presiding and judging, 
 all the bodily messengers reported the answers of heaven 
 and earth, and all things therein, who said, " We are not 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 171 
 
 God, but He made us." These things did my inner man 
 know by the ministry of the outer ;■ I the inner, knew them ; 
 I, the mind, through the senses of my body. I asked the 
 whole frame of the world about my God ; and it answered 
 me, " I am not He, but He made me." 
 
 10. Is not this corporeal figure apparent -to all whose 
 senses are perfect 1 why then speaks it not the same to 
 all 1 Animals small and great see it, but they cannotask 
 it : because no reason is set over their senses to judge on 
 what they report. But men can ask, so that the invisible 
 things of God may be clearly seen, being understood by the 
 things that are made, only that by love of them, they are 
 made subject unto them, and subjects cannot judge. Nor 
 yet do things answer, unless the questioners can judge : 
 they do not however change their voice, appear one way 
 to this man, another way to that ;' but appearing the same 
 way to both, are dumb to this, speak to that ; yea, rather, 
 speak to all ; but they only understand, who compare the 
 voice received from without, with the truth within. For 
 truth saith unto me, " Neither heaven, nor earth, nor any 
 other body is thy God." This, their very nature saith to 
 him that seeth them : " They are a mass ; a mass is less 
 in a part than in the whole." Now to Thee I speak, O 
 my soul, thou art my better part : for thou quickenest the 
 mass of my body, giving it life, which no body can give 
 to a body : but thy God is even unto Thee the Life of thy 
 life. 
 
 [VII.] 11. What then do I love, when I love my God? 
 who is He so high above my soul ? By my very soul will 
 I ascend to Him. I will pass beyond that power whereby 
 I am united to my body, filling its whole frame with life. 
 Nor can I by that power find my God ; for so horse and 
 mule that have no understanding, might find Him ; seeing I 
 it is the same power whereby even their bodies live. But; 
 another power there is, not that only whereby I animate, 
 but that too whereby I imbue with sense my flesh, which 
 the Lord hath framed for me : commanding the eye not 
 to hear, and the ear not to see ; but the eye, that through 
 it I should see, and the ear, that through it I should hear ; 
 and to the other senses severally, what is to each their 
 own peculiar seats and offices ; which, being divers, I, the 
 
172 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 one mind, do through them enact. I will pass beyond 
 this power of mine also ; for this also have the horse and 
 mule, for they also perceive through the body. 
 
 [VIII.] 12. I will pass then beyond this power of my 
 nature, also, rising by degrees unto Him who made me. 
 And I come to the ftelds and spacious palaces of my mem- 
 ory, where are the treasures of innumerable images, 
 brought into it from things of all sorts perceived by the 
 senses. There is stored up, whatsoever besides we think, 
 either by enlarging or diminishing, or any other way vary- 
 ing those things which the sense hath come to ; and what- 
 ever else hath been committed and laid up, which forget- 
 fulness hath not yet swallowed up and buried. When I 
 enter there, I require what I will, to be brought forth, and 
 something instantly comes ; others must be longer sought 
 after, which are fetched, as it were, out of some inner 
 receptacle ; others rush out in troops, and while one thing 
 is desired and required, they start forth, as who should 
 say, " Is it perchance 1 1" These I drive away with the 
 hand of my heart, from the face of my remembrance, 
 until what I wish for be unveiled, and appear in sight, out 
 of its secret place. Other things come up readily, in un- 
 broken order, as they are called for ; those in front mak- 
 ing way for the following ; and as they make way, they 
 are hidden from sight, ready to come when I will. All 
 which takes place, when I repeat a thing by heart. 
 
 13. And all things are preserved distinctly and under 
 general heads, each having entered by its own avenue : as 
 light, and all colors, and forms of bodies, by the eyes ; 
 by the ears all sorts of sounds ; all smells by the avenue 
 of the nostrils ; all taste's by the mouth ; and by the sen- 
 sation of the whole body, what is hard or soft ; hot or 
 cold; smooth or 'rugged; heavy or light; either out- 
 wardly or inwardly to the body. All these doth that great 
 harbor of the memory receive in her numberless secret 
 and inexpressible windings, to be forthcoming, and brought 
 out at need ; each entering in by his own gate, and there 
 laid up. Nor yet do the things themselves enter in ; only 
 the images of the things perceived, are there in readiness 
 for thought to recall. But how these images are formed, 
 who can tell, though it doth plainly appear by which sense 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 173 
 
 each hath been brought in and stored up ? For even 
 while I dwell in darkness and silence, in my memory I 
 can produce colors, if I will, and discern betwixt black 
 and white: nor do sounds break in', and disturb the image 
 drawn in by my eyes, which I am reviewing, though they 
 also are there, lying dormant, and laid up, as it were, 
 apart. For these too I call for, and forthwith they appear. 
 And though my tongue be still, and my throat mute, lean 
 sing as much as I will ; nor do those images of colors, 
 which notwithstanding be there, intrude themselves and 
 interrupt, when another store is called for, which flowed 
 in by the ears. So the other things, piled in and up by 
 the other senses, I recall at my pleasure. Yea, I discern 
 the breath of lilies from violets, though smelling nothing ; 
 and I prefer honey to sweet wine, smooth before rugged, 
 at the time neither tasting, nor handling, but remembering 
 only. 
 
 ' 14. These things do I within, in that vast court of my 
 memory. For there are present with , me, heaven, earth, 
 sea, and whatever I could think on therein, besides what 
 I have forgotten. There also meet I with myself, and re- 
 call myself, and when, where, and what I have done, and 
 under . what feelings. There is all' which I remember, 
 either on my own experience, or others' credit. Out of 
 the same store do I myself continually combine vyith the 
 past fresh likenesses of things, which I have experienced, 
 or, from what I have experienced, have believed : and 
 thence again infer future actions, events, and hopes, and 
 all these again I reflect on, at present. " I will do this or 
 that," say I to myself, in that great receptacle of my mind, 
 stored with the images of things so many and so great, 
 " and this or that will follow." " O that this or that 
 might be !" " God avert this or that !" So speak I to my- 
 self: and when I speak, the images of all I speak of are 
 present, out of the same treasury of memory ; nor would 
 I speak of any thereof, were the images wanting. 
 
 15. Great is this force of memory, excessive great, O 
 my God ; a large and boundless chamber ! who ever 
 sounded the bottom thereof? yet is this a power of mine, 
 and belongs unto my nature ; nor do I myself comprehend 
 all that I am. Therefore is the mind too strait to contain 
 
174 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 itself. And where should that be, which it containeth 
 not of itself? Is it without it, and not within? how then 
 doth it not comprehend itself? A wonderful admiration 
 surprises me, amazement seizes me upon this. And men 
 go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty 
 billows of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass 
 of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, passing them- 
 selves by ; nor wonder, that when I spake of all these 
 things, I did not see them with mine eyes, yet could not 
 have spoken of them, unless I then actually saw the 
 mountains, billows, rivers, stars, which I had seen, and 
 that ocean which I believe to be, inwardly in my memory, 
 and with the same vast spaces between, as if I saw them 
 abroad. Yet did jiot 1 by seeing draw them into myself, 
 when with mine eyes I beheld them ; nor are they them- 
 selves with me, but their images only. And I know by 
 what sense of the body each was impressed upon me. 
 
 [IX.] 16. Yet not these alone does the unmeasurable 
 capacity of my memory retain. Here also is all, learnt 
 of the liberal sciences and as yet unforgotten ; removed 
 as it were to some inner place, which is yet no place : nor 
 are they the images thereof, but the things themselves. 
 For, what is literature, what the art of disputing, how 
 many kinds of questions there be, whatsoever of these I 
 know, in such manner exists in my memory, as that I 
 have not taken in the image, and left out the thing, or 
 that it should have sounded and passed away like a voice 
 fixed on the ear by that impress, whei'eby it might be re- 
 called, as if it sounded, when it no longer sounded ; or 
 as a smell while it passes, and evaporates into air affects 
 the sense of smell, whence it conveys into the memory an 
 image of itself, which remembering, we renew, or as 
 meat, which verily in the belly hath now no taste, and yet 
 in the memory still in a manner tasteth ; or as any thing 
 which the body by touch perceiveth, and which, when re- 
 moved from us, the memory still conceives. For those 
 things are not transmitted into the memory, but their im- 
 ages only, with an admirable swiftness, are caught up, and 
 stored, as it were, in wondrous cabinets, and thence won- 
 derfully, by the act of remembering, brought forth. 
 
 [X.] 17. But now, when I hear that there be three 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 175 
 
 kinds of questioris, " Whether the thing be? what it is? 
 of what kind it is?" I do indeed hold the images of the 
 sounds, of which those words be composed, and that those 
 sounds with noise passed through the air, and then were 
 not. BuJ_the_things__tii§Hsgglxgs^S^h}c^^ signified by 
 those sounds, I never reached with any sen§ie gOSy to3^y,- 
 nor eTer~drsceTriedTh¥m~offierv?Xs^^^ in my mind ; yet 
 
 in' my"nieinofyTiave I laid up not their images, hut Ihem- 
 s^lVesT" How they entered iiito me, let them say if they 
 cW';' Tor I have gone over all the avenues of my flesh, 
 but cannot find by which they entered. For the eyes say, 
 " if those images were colored, we reported of them." 
 The ears say, " if they sound, we gave knowledge of 
 them." The nostrils say, " if they smell, they passed by 
 us." The taste says, " unless they have a savor, ask me 
 not." The touch says, " if it have not size, I handled it 
 not; if I handled it not, I gave no notice of it." Whence 
 and how entered these things into my memory ? I know 
 not how. For when I learned them, I gave no credit to 
 another man's mind, but recognized them in mine ; and 
 approving them for true,- 1 commended them to it, laying 
 tfaem up as it were, whence I might bring them forth 
 when I willed. In my heart then they were, even before 
 I learned them, but in my memory they were not. Where 
 then ? or wherefore, when they were spoken, did I ac- 
 knowledge them and said, " So is it, it is true," unless 
 that they were already in the memory, but so thrown back 
 and buried as it were in deeper recesses, that had not the 
 suggestion of another drawn them forth, I had perchance 
 been unable to conceive of them ? 
 
 [XL] 18. Wherefore we find, that to learn these 
 things whereof we imbibe not the images by our senses, 
 but perceive within by themselves, without images, as 
 they are, is nothing else, but by conception to receive, 
 and by marking to take heed that those things which the 
 memory did before contain at random and unarranged, be 
 laid up at hand as it were in that same memory, where 
 before they lay unknown, scattered and neglected, and so 
 readily occur to the mind familiarized to them. And how 
 many things of this kind does my memory bear which 
 have been already feund out, and as I said, placed as it 
 
176 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 were at hand, which we are said to have learned and 
 come to know; which were I for some short space of 
 time to cease to call to mind, they are again so buried, 
 and glide back, as it were, into the deeper recesses, that 
 they must again, as if new, be thought out thenCB, ' for 
 other abode they have none : but they must be drawn to- 
 gether again, that they may be known ; that is to say, 
 they must as it were be collected together from their dis- 
 persion : whence the word " cogitation" is derived. For 
 cogo (collect) and cogito (re-collect) have the same rela- 
 tion to each other as ago and agito, facto and factito. 
 But the mind hath appropriated to itself this word, (cogi- 
 tation,) so that, not what is " collected" any how, but 
 what is "re-collected," i. e. brought together, in the 
 mind, is properly said to be cogitated, or thought upon, i 
 
 [XII.] 19. The memory containeth, also, reasons and 
 laws innumerable, of numbers and dimensions, none of 
 which hath any bodily sense impressed ; seeing they have 
 neither color, nor sound, nor taste, nor smell, nor touch. 
 I have heard the sound of the words whereby they are de- 
 noted : but the sounds are other than the things. For 
 the sounds are other in Greek than in Latin : but the 
 thirigs are neither Greek nor Latin, nor any other lan- 
 guage. I have seen the lines of architects, the very fin- 
 est, like a spider's thread ; but those are still different, 
 they are not the images of those lines, which the eye of 
 flesh shewed me : he knoweth them, who, without any 
 conception whatsoever of a body, recognizes them within 
 himself. I have perceived, also, the numbers of the things 
 with which we number all the senses of my body ; but 
 those numbers wherewith we number, are different, nor 
 are they the images of these, and therefore they indeed 
 are. Let him who seeth them not, deride me for saying 
 these things, and I will pity him, while he derides me. 
 
 [XIII.] 20. All these things I remember, and how I 
 learnt them I remember. Many things, also, most falsely 
 objected against them have I heard, and remember; 
 which, though they be false, yet is it not false that I re- 
 member them ; and I remember, also, that I have dis- 
 cerned betwixt those truths and these falsehoods objected 
 to them. And I perceive, that the present discerning of 
 
ST. AUGUSTINS. 177 
 
 these things is different from remembering that I often- 
 times discerned them, when I often thought upon them. 
 I both remember then to hare often understood these 
 things; and what I now discern and understand, I lay up 
 in my memory, that hereafter I may remember that I un- 
 derstood it now. So then I remember, also, to have re- 
 membered ; as, if hereafter I shall call to remembrance, 
 that I have now been able to remember these things, by 
 the force of memory shall 1 call it to remembrance. 
 
 [XIV.] 21. The same memory contains also the af- 
 fections of my mind, not in the same manner that my 
 mind itself contains them, when it feels them ; but far 
 otherwise, according to a power of its own. Egrjvithout 
 rej oicing I r emember myself to have joyedj__an^^wtK^ 
 s,grrow 3oX^!SttiBtsr*ftiy }iasl"sorrow.^ And that I once 
 fearecl7 1 revievi' witKoutfear ; and" witTiout desire call to 
 mind a past desire. Sometimes, on the contrary, with 
 joy do I remember my fore-past sorrow, and with sorrow, 
 joy. Which is not wonderful, as to the body ; for mind is 
 one thing, body another. If I therefore with joy remem- 
 ber some past pain of body, it is not so wonderful. 
 But now seeing this very memory itself is mind, (for when 
 we give a thing in charge, to be kept in memory, we say, 
 " See that you keep it in mind ;" and when we forget, we 
 say, " It did not come to my mind," and, " It slipped 
 out of my mind," calling the memory itself the mind ;) 
 this being so, how is it, that when with joy I remember 
 my past sorrow, the mind hath joy, the memory hath sor- 
 roiw ; the mind upon the joyfulness which is in it, is joy- 
 ful, yet the memory upon the sadness which is in it is not 
 sad ? Does the memory perchance not belong to the 
 mind 1 Who will say so 1 The memory then is, as it 
 were, thg. beIlyof_the mind, and joy and sadness, like 
 sweet and~TBitter*lbod7'wfiich, when committed to the 
 memory, are, as it were, passed into the belly, where they 
 may be stowed, but cannot taste. Ridiculous it is to 
 imagine these to be alike ; and yet are they not utterly 
 unlike. 
 
 22. But, behold, out of my memory I bring it, when I 
 say there be four perturbations of the mind, desire, joy, 
 fear, sorrow ; and whatsoever I can dispute thereon, by 
 15 
 
 1 
 
178 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 dividing each into its subordinant species, and by defin- 
 ing it, in ray memory, I find what to say, and thence do I 
 bring it : yet am I not disturbed by any of these pertur- 
 bations, when, by calling them to mind, I remember them ; 
 yea, and before I recalled and brought them back, they 
 were there ; and therefore could they, by recollection, 
 thence be brought. Perchance, then, as meat is by chew- 
 ing the cud brought up out of the belly, so by recollection 
 these out of the memory. Why then does not the dis- 
 puter, thus recollecting, taste in the mouth of his musing 
 the sweetness of joy, or the bitterness of sorrow? Is the 
 comparison unlike in this, because not in all respects 
 like ? For who would willingly speak thereof, if so oft 
 as we name grief or fear, we should be compelled to, be 
 sad or fearful? And yet could we not speak of them, did 
 we not find in our memory, not only the sounds of the 
 names according to the images impressed by the senses 
 of the body, but notions of the very things themselves 
 which we never received by any avenue of the body, but 
 which the mind itself perceiving by the experience of its 
 own passions, committed to the memory, or the memory 
 of itself retained, without being committed unto it. 
 
 [XV.] 23. But whether by images or no, who can 
 readily say ? Thus, I name a stone, I name the sun, the 
 things themselves not being present to my senses, but 
 their images to my memory. I name a bodily pain, yet 
 it is not present with me, when nothing aches : yet, un- 
 less its image were present in my memory, I should not 
 know what to say thereof, nor in discoursing discern pain 
 from pleasure. I name bodily health ; being sound in 
 body, the thing itself is present with me; yet, unless its 
 image also were present in my memory, 1 could by no 
 means recall what the sound of this name should signify. 
 Nor would the sick, when health were named, recognize 
 what were spoken, unless the same image were by the 
 force of memory retained, although the thing itself were 
 absent from the body. I name numbers whereby we 
 number ; and not their images, but themselves are pres- 
 ent in ray memory. I name the image of the sun, and 
 that image is present in my memory. For I recall not 
 the image of its image, but the image itself is present to 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 179 
 
 me, calling it to rpind. I name memory, and I recognize 
 what I name. And where do I recognize it, but in the 
 memory itself? Is it also present to itself by its image, 
 and not by itself? 
 
 [XVI.] 24. What, when I name forgetfulness, and 
 withal recognize what I name? whence should I recog- 
 nize it, did I not remember it? I speaknot of the sound 
 of the name, but of the thing which it signifies : which , 
 if I had forgotten, I could not recognize what that sound 
 signifies. When then I remember memory, memory itself 
 is, through itself, present with itself; but when I remem- 
 ber forgetfulness, there are present both memory and for- 
 getfulness ; memory whereby I remember, forgetfulness 
 which I remember. But what is forgetfulness, but the 
 privation of memory? How then is it present that I re- 
 member it, since when present I cannot remember ? But 
 if what we remember we hold it in memory, yet, unless 
 we did remember forgetfulness, we could never, at the 
 hearing of the name, recognize the thing thereby signi- 
 fied, then forgetfulness is retained by memory. Present 
 then it is, that we forget not, and being so, we forget. It 
 is to be understood from this, that forgetfulness, when we 
 remember it, is not preisent to the memory by itself, but 
 by its image : because, if it were present by itself, it would 
 not cause us to remember, but to forget. Who now shall 
 search out this ? who shall comprehend how it is ? 
 
 25. Lord, I, truly, toil therein, yea, and toil in myself; 
 I am become a heavy soil requiring over-much sweat of 
 the brow. For we are not now searching out the regions 
 of heaven, or measuring the distances of the stars, or in- 
 quiring the balancings of the earth. It is I myself who 
 remember, I, the mind. It is not so wonderful, if what 
 I myself am not, be far from me. But what is nearer to 
 me than myself? And lo, the force of mine own memory 
 is not understood by me ; though I cannot so much as 
 name myself without it. For what shall I say, when it is 
 clear to me that I remember forgetfulness ? Shall I say 
 that that is not in my memory, which I remember ? or 
 shall I say that forgetfulness is for this purpose in my 
 memory, that I might not forget? Both were most ab- 
 surd. What thirdway is there? How can I say that the 
 
180 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 image of forgetfulness is retained by my meraory, not for- 
 getfulness itself, when I remember it? How could I say 
 this either, seeing that when the image of any thing is 
 impressed on the memory, the thing itself must needs be 
 first present, whence that image may be impressed? For 
 thus do I remember Carthage, thus all places where I have 
 been, thus men's faces whom I have seen, and things re- 
 ported by the other senses ; thi^s the health or sickness of 
 the body. For when these things were present, my mem- 
 ory received from them images, which, being present with 
 me, I might look on and bring back in my mind, when I 
 remembered them in their absence. If then this forget- 
 fulness is retained in the memory through its image, not 
 through itself, then, plainly, itself was once present, that 
 its image might be taken. But when it was present, how. 
 did it write its image in the memory, seeing that forget- 
 fulness by its presence effaces even what it finds already 
 noted ? Apd yet, in whatever way, although that way be 
 past conceiving and explaining, yet certain am I that I 
 remember forgetfulness itself also, whereby what we re- 
 member is effaced. 
 
 [XVII.] 26. Great is the power of memory, a fearful 
 thing, O my God, a deep and boundless manifoldness ; 
 and this thing is the mind, and this am I myself. What 
 am I then, O my God? What nature am I ? A life va- 
 rious and manifold, and exceeding immense. Behold in 
 the plains, and caves, and caverns of my memory, innu- 
 merable and innumerably full of innumerable kinds of 
 things, either through images, as all bodies ; or by actual 
 presence, as the arts ; or by certain notions or impres- 
 sions, as the affections of the mind, which, even when the 
 mind doth not feel, the memory retaineth, while yet what- 
 soever is in the memory, is also in the mind — over all 
 these do I run, I fly ; I dive on this side and on that, as 
 far as I can, and there is no end. So great is the force 
 of memory, so great the force of life, even in the mortal 
 life of man. What shall I do then, O Thou my true life, 
 iny God ? I will pass even beyond this power of mine 
 which is called memory : yea, I will pass beyond it, that 
 I may approach unto Thee, O sweet Light. What sayest 
 Thou to me 1 See, I am mounting up throiigl^ my mind 
 
ST. AUGCSTINE. 181 
 
 towards Thee, who abidest above me. Yea, I now will 
 pass beyond this power of mine which is called memory, 
 desirous to arrive at Thee, whence Thou mayest be ar- 
 rived at ; and to cleave unto Thee, whence one may 
 cleave unto Thee. For even beasts and birds have mem- 
 ory, else could they not return to their dens and nests, 
 nor many other things they are used unto : nor indeed 
 could they be used to any thing, but by memory. I will 
 pass then beyond memory also, that I may arrive at Him, 
 who hath separated me from the four-footed beasts, and 
 made me wiser than the fowls of the air ; I wHl pass be- 
 yond memory also, and where shall I find Thee, Thou 
 truly good and certain sweetness ? And where shall I find 
 Thee? If I find Thee without my memory, then do I 
 not retain Thee in my memory. And how shall I find 
 Thee, if I remember Thee not? 
 
 [XVIIi.] 27. The woman that had lost her groat, and 
 sought it with a light, unless she had remembered it, she 
 had never found it. And when it was found, whence 
 should she know whether it were the same, unless she re- 
 membered it ? I remember to have ^oug^ht and found 
 many a thing ; and this I thereby know, that when Iwas 
 seeking any of them, and was asked, "Is this it?" "Is 
 that it ?" so I said " No," until that was offered me 
 which I sought. But had I not remembered it, (whatever 
 it were,) though it were offered me, yet should I not find- 
 it, because I could not recognize it. And so it ever is, ] 
 when we seek and find any lost thing. Notwithstanding, ! 
 when any thing is by chance lost from the sightj not from . 
 the memory, (as any visible body,) yet its image is still \ 
 retaiued within, and it is sought until it be restored to I 
 sight; and when it is found, it is recognized by the image. I 
 which is within : nor do we say that we have fbund what! 
 was lost, unless we recognize it ; nor can we recognize itj 
 unless we remember it. It was lost to the eyes, but re-E 
 tained in the memory. , ' ' '' 
 
 [XIX.] 28. And when the memory itself loses any 
 thing, as falls out when we forget and seek that we may 
 recollect, where in the end do we search, but in the mem- 
 ory itself? and there, if one thing be perchance offered 
 instead of another, we reject it, until what we seek nieets 
 15» 
 
183 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 us; and when it doth, we say, " This is it;'' which we 
 should not unless we recognized it, nor recognize it un- 
 less we remembered it. Certainly then we had forgotten 
 it. Or, had not the whole escaped us, but by the part 
 ■whereof we had hold, was the lost part sought for ; in 
 that the memory felt that it did not carry on together all 
 which it was wont, and maimed, as it were, by the cur- 
 tailment of its ancient habit, demanded the restoration of 
 what it missed 1 For instance, if we seek or think of 
 some one known to us, and having forgotten his name, try 
 to recover it, whatever else occurs, connects itself not 
 therewith ; because it was not wont to be thought upon 
 together with him, and therefore is rejected, until that pre- 
 sent itself, whereon the knowledge reposes equably as its 
 wonted object. And whence does that present itself, but 
 out of the memory itself? for even when we recognize it, 
 on being reminded by another, it is thence it comes. For 
 we do not believe it as something new, but, upon recollec-' 
 tion, allow what was named to be right. But were it ut- 
 terly blotted out of the mind, we should not remember it, 
 -even when reminded. For we have not as yet utterly for- 
 gotten that, which we remember ourselves to have forgot- 
 ten. What then we have utterly forgotten, though lost, 
 we cannot even seek after. 
 
 [XX.] 29. How then do I seek Thee; O Lord 1 For 
 when I seek Thee, my God, I seek a happy life. / will 
 seek Thee, that my soul may live. For my body liveth by 
 my soul ; and my soul by Thee. How then do I seek a 
 happy life, seeing I have it not, until I can say, where I 
 ought to say it, " It is enough?" How seek I it ? By 
 remembrance, as though I had forgotten it, remembering 
 that I had forgotten it? Or, desiring to learn it as a 
 thing unknown, either never having known, or so forgot- 
 ten it, as not even to remember that I had forgotten it ? 
 Is not a happy life what all will, and no one altogether 
 wills it not ? Where have they known it, that they so will 
 it? where seen it, that they so love it? Truly we have it, 
 how, I know not. Yea, there is another way, wherein one 
 hath it, then is he happy ; and there are, who are blessed 
 in hope. These have it in a lower kind, than they who 
 have it in very deed ; yet are they better off than such as 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 183 
 
 are happy neither in deed nor in hope. Yet even thesej 
 had they it not in some sort, would not so will to be happy, 
 which that they do will is most certain. They have known 
 it, then, I know not how, and so have it by some sort of 
 knowledge, what, I know not, and am perplexed whether it 
 be in the memory, which if it be, then we have been happy 
 once ; whether all severally, or in that man who first 
 sinned, in whom also loe all died, and from whom we are 
 all born with misery, I now inquire not ; but only, whether 
 the happy life be in the memory ? For neither should we 
 love it, did we not know it. We hear the name, and we 
 all confess that we desire the thing ; for we are not de- 
 lighted with the mere sound. For when a Greek hears it 
 in Latin, he is not delighted, not knowing what is spoken ; 
 but we Latins are delighted, as would he too, if he heard 
 it in Greek ; because the thing itself is neither Greek nor 
 Latin, which Greeks and Latins, and men of all other 
 tongues, long for so earnestly. Know therefore it is to 
 all, for could they with one voice be asked, " would they 
 be happy ?" they would answer, without doubt, " they 
 would." And this could not be, unless ^the thing itself 
 whereof it is the name, were retained in their memory. 
 
 [XXI.] 30. But is it so, as one remembers Carthage 
 who hath seen it ? No. For a happy life is not seen with 
 the eye, because it is not a body. As we remember num- 
 bers then? No. For these he that hath in his knowledge, 
 seeks not further to attain unto ; but a happy life we have 
 in our knowledge, and therefore love it, and yet still de- 
 sire to attain it, that we may be happy. As we remem- 
 ber eloquence then ? No. For although upon hearing 
 this name also, some call to mind the thing, who still are 
 not yet eloquent, and many who desire to be so, whence 
 it appears that it is in their knowledge; yet these have by 
 their bodily senses observed others to be eloquent, and 
 been delighted, and desire to be the, like ; (though indeed 
 they would not be delighted but for some inward knowl- 
 edge thereof, nor wish to be the like, unless they were 
 thus delighted;) whereas a happy life we do by no bodily 
 sense experience in others. As then we remember joy? 
 Perchance; for my joy I remember, even when sad, as a 
 happy life, when unhappy ; nor did I ever . with bodily 
 
184 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 sense see, hear, smell, taste, or touch my joy ; but I ex- 
 perienced it in my mind, when I rejoiced ; and the knowl- 
 edge of it clave to my memory, so that I can recall it with 
 disgust sometimes, at others with longing, according to 
 the nature of the things, wherein I remember myself to 
 have joyed. For even from foul things have I been im- 
 mersed in a sort of joy ; which now recalling, I detest and 
 execrate ; otherwhiles in good and honest things, which I 
 recall with longing, although perchance no longer pres- 
 ent ; and therefore with sadness I recall former joy. 
 
 31. Where, then, and when, did I experience my happy 
 life, that I should remember, and love, and long for it? 
 
 . Nor is it I alone, or some few besides, but we all would 
 fain be happy ; which, unless by some certain knowledge 
 we knew, we should not with so certain a will desire. But 
 how is this, that if two men be asked whether they would 
 go to the wars, one, perchance, would answer that he 
 would, the other, that he would not; but if they were ask- 
 ed, whether they would be happy, both would instantly, 
 without any doubting, say they would; and for no other 
 reason would the one go to the wars, and the other not, 
 but to be happy. Is it perchance, that as one looks for 
 his joy in this thing, another in that, all agree in their de- 
 sire of being happy, as they would, (if they were asked,) 
 that they wished to have joy, and this joy they call a happy 
 life 1 Although, then, one obtains this joy by one means, 
 another by another, all have one end, which they strive to 
 attain, namely, joy. Which being a thing, which all must 
 say they have experienced, it is therefore found in the 
 memory, and recognized, whenever the name of a happy 
 life is mentioned. 
 
 i [XXII.] 32. Far be it. Lord, far be it from the heart 
 of Thy servant who here confesseth unto Thee, far be it, 
 that, be the joy what it may, I should therefore think my- 
 self happy. For there is a joy which is not given to the, 
 ungodly, but to those who love Thee for Thine own sake, 
 whose joy Thou Thyself art. And this is the happy life, 
 to rejoice to Thee, of Thee, for Thee ; this is it, and there 
 
 , is no other. For they who think there is another, pursue 
 some other, and not the true joy. Yet is not their will 
 turned away from some semblance of joy! 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 185 
 
 [XXIII.] 33. It is not certain then that all wish to be 
 happy, inasmuch as they who wish not to joy in Thee, 
 which is the only happy life, do not truly desire the happy 
 life. Or do all men desire this, but because the flesh lusU 
 eth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, 
 that they cannot do what they would, they fall upon that 
 which they can do, and are content therewith ; because, 
 what they are not able to do, they do not will so strongly, 
 as would suffice to make them able? For I ask any one, 
 had he rather joy in truth, or in falsehood? They will as 
 little hesitate to say, " in the the truth," as to say, "that 
 they desire to be happy ; " for a happy life is joy in the 
 truth : for this is a jpying in Thee, Who art the Truth, O 
 God, ray light, health of my countenance, my God. This 
 is the happy life which all desire ; this life which alone is 
 happy, all desire ; to joy in the truth all desire. I have 
 met with many that would deceive ; none who would be 
 deceived. Where then did they know this happy life, 
 save where they knew the truth also? For they love it, 
 since they would not be deceived. And when they love a 
 happy life, which is no other than joying in the truth, then 
 also do they love the truth ; which yet they would not 
 love, were there not some notice of it in their memory. 
 Why then joy they not in it ? why are they not happy ? 
 because thev are more strongly taken up with other things 
 which have more power to make them miserable, tnan 
 that which they so faintly remember to make them happy. 
 For there is yet a little light in men ; let them walk, let 
 them walk, that the darkness overtake them not. 
 
 34. But why doth " truth generate hatred," and the man 
 of Thine, preaching the truth, become an enemy to them ? 
 whereas a happy life is loved, which is nothing else but 
 joying in the truth; unless that truth is in that kind loved, 
 that they who love any thing else, would gladly have that 
 which they love to be the truth ; and because they would 
 not be deceived, would not be convinced that they are 
 so? Therefore do they hate the truth, for that thing's 
 sake, which they love instead of the truth. They love 
 truth when she enlightens, they hate her when she re- 
 proves. For since they would not be deceived, and would 
 deceive, they love her, wheii she discovers herself unto 
 them, and hate her, when s*^° a-.^--^-.-'^- ^'^- 
 
lob CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 she shall so repijy them, that they who would not be made 
 manifest by her, she both against their will makes mani- 
 fest, and herself becometh not manifest unto them. Thus, 
 thus, yea, thus doth the mind of man, blind and sick, foul 
 and ill-favored, wish to be hidden, but wishes not that 
 aught should be hidden from it. But the contrary is re- 
 quited it, that itself should not be hidden from the truth ; 
 while the truth is hid from it. Yet even thus miserable, 
 it had rather joy in truths than in falsehoods. Happiy 
 then will it be, when, no distraction interposing, it shall 
 joy in that only Truth, by whom all things are true. 
 
 [XXIV.] 35. See what a space I have gone over in 
 my memory seeking Thee, O Lord ; and I have not found 
 Thee, without it. Nor have I found any thing concern- 
 ing Thee, but what I have kepi in memory, ever since 1 
 learnt Thee. For since I learnt Thee, I have not forgot- 
 ten Thee. Where I found Truth, there found I my God, 
 the Truth itself; and since I learnt, I have not forgotten. 
 Since then I learned Thee, Thou residest in my memory ; 
 and there do' I find Thee, when I call Thee to remem- 
 brance, and delight in Thee^ These are my holy delights, 
 which Thou hast given me in Thy mercy, having regard 
 to my poverty. 
 
 [XXV.] 36. But where in my memory residest Thou, 
 O Lord, where residest Thou there? what manner of 
 lodging hast Thou framed for Thee '? what manner of 
 sanctuary hast Thou builded for Thee? Thou hast given 
 this honor to my memory, to reside in it ; but in what 
 quarter of it Thou residest, that am I considering. For 
 in thinking on Thee, I passed beyond such parts of it, as 
 the beasts also have, for I found Thee not there among 
 the images of corporeal things : and I came to those parts 
 to which I committed the affections of my mind, nor found 
 Thee there. And I entered into the very seat of my mind, 
 (which it hath in my memory, inasmuch as the mind re- 
 members itself also,) neither wert Thou there: for as 
 Thou art not a corporeal image, nor the affection of a 
 living being ; (as when we rejoice, condole, desire, fear, 
 remember, forget, or the like;) so neither art Thou the 
 mind itself; because Thou art the Lord God of the 
 mind ; and all these change, but Thou remainest un- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 187 
 
 chatigeable over all, and yet hast vouchsafed to dwell in 
 my memory, since I learnt Thee. And why seek I now, 
 in what place thereof Thou dwellest, as if there were 
 places therein ? Sure I am, that in it Thou dwellest, 
 since I have remembered Thee, ever since I learnt Thee, 
 and there I find Thee, when I call Thee to remembrance. 
 [XXVI.] 37. Where then did I find Thee, that I might 
 learn Thee ? For in my memory Thou wert not, before 
 I learned Thee. Where did I find Thee, that I might 
 learn Thee, but in Thyself above me? Place there is 
 '^■£2£iJ£L.^''-"SS££jSffi^'i?l<^ forward, aj^^M)A\&J& no 
 ^^^^^'^[Every where, O Truth, dost Thou give audience 
 to all who ask counsel of Thee, and at once answerest 
 all, though on manifold matters they ask Thy counsel. 
 Clearly dost Thou answer, though all do not clearly hear. 
 All consult Thee on what they wish, though they hear not 
 always what they wish. He is Thy best servant, who 
 looks not so much to hear that from Thee, which himself 
 willeth ; as to will that, which from Thee he heareth. 
 
 . [XXVII.] 38. Too late loved I Thee, O Thou Beauty 
 of ancient days, yeF^WS^^ew ! too late I loved Thee! 
 And behold. Thou wert within, andTaB'road, and there I ' 
 searched for Thee ; plunging deformed amid those fair 
 forms, which Thou hadst made. Thou wert with me, but 
 I was not with Thee. Things held me far from Thee, 
 which, unless they were in Thee, were not at all. Thou 
 didst call, and shout, and burst my deafness. Thou didst 
 flash, shine, and scatter my blindness. Thou didst breathe 
 odors, and I drew in breath, and pant for Thee. I tasted, 
 and I hunger and thirst for Thee. Thou didst touch me, 
 and I am on fire for Thy peace. ,.-— — 
 
 , [XXVJIL] 39. When J shall with my whole self 
 cleave to Thee, I shall no vyhere have sorrow, or labor ; 
 and.my life shall wholly live, as wholly full of Thee. But 
 nov/ since whom Thou fillest. Thou liftest up, because 1 
 am not full of Thee I am a burthen to myself Lamenta- 
 ble joys strive with joyous sorrows : and on which side is 
 the victory, I know not. Woe is me ! Lord, have pity 
 on me. My evil sorrows strive with my good joys ; and 
 on which side is the victory, I know not. Woe is me ! 
 Lord, have pity on me. Woe is me ! lo ! I hide not my 
 
183 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 Wounds ; Thou art the Physician, I the sick ; Thou mef- 
 ciful, I miserable. Is not the life of man upon earth all 
 trial ? Who wishes for troubles and difficulties 1 Thou 
 commandest them to be endured, not to be loved. No 
 man loves what he endures, though he love to endure. 
 For though he rejoices that he endures, he had rather 
 there were nothing for him to endure. In adversity, I 
 long for prosperity, in prosperity I fear adversity. What 
 middle place is there betwixt these two, where the life of 
 man is not all trial? Woe to the prosperities of the 
 world, once and again, through fear of adversity, and cor- 
 ruption of joy. Woe to the adversities of the world, once 
 and again, and the third time, from the longing for pros- 
 perity, and because adversity itself is a hard thing, and 
 lest it shatter endurance. Is not the life of man upon 
 earth all trial, without any interval ? 
 
 [XXIX.] 40. And all my hope is no where but in Thy 
 exceeding great mercy. Give what Thou enjoinest, and 
 enjoin what Thou wilt. Thou enjoinest us continency ; 
 and when I knew, saith one, that no man can he continent, 
 unless God give it, this also was a part of wisdom to 
 r know whose gift she is. By continency, verily, are we 
 bound up and brought back into One, whence We were 
 dissipated into many. For too little doth he love Thee, 
 who loves any thing with Thee, which he loveth not for 
 Thee. O love, who ever burnest and never consumest! 
 O charity, my God ! kindle me. Thou enjoinest conti- 
 nency : give me what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin what 
 Thou wilt. 
 
 [XXX.] 41. Verily, Thou enjoinest me continency 
 from the lust of the jlesh, the lust of the eyes, and the 
 ambition of the world. Thou enjoinest continency from 
 concubinage ; and for wedlock itself. Thou hast counsel- 
 led something better than what Thou hast permitted. And 
 since Thou gavest it, it was done, even before I became 
 a dispenser of Thy Sacrament. But there yet live in my 
 memoryj^whereof^ such 
 
 things, as my ill custom^tjigre _fixed ^ which haunt me, 
 sfreng th|ess_ w henjt j|,m_jagake-,;,JiutTn sleep^ not only so 
 as to give pleasure, but even to obtain assent, and whaTis 
 vgry like reality. „y.e^, so far pl-evalls the illusipnToFlBe 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 189 
 
 image, inm y soul and , in my. flesh, that, .when asleep, 
 faIsel1:§iMrpersuadgjtjUiM..^^^ the 
 
 tmecaniior Am I not then myself, O Lord my God? 
 And yef there is so much difference betwixt myself and 
 myself, within that moment wherein I pass from waking 
 to sleeping, or return from sleeping to waking ! Where 
 is reason, then, which awake, resisteth such suggestions 1 
 And should the things themselves be urged on it, it re- 
 maineth unshaken. Is it clasped up with the eyes? is it 
 lulled asleep with the senses of the body ? And whence 
 is it that often even in sleep we resist, and, mindful of our 
 purpose, and abiding most chastely in it, yield no assent 
 to such enticement ? And yet so much difference there 
 is, that when it happeneth otherwise, upon waking we 
 return to peace of conscience : and by this very difference 
 discover that we did not, what yet we are sorry that in 
 some way was done in us. 
 
 43. Art Thou not mighty, God Almighty, to heal all 
 the diseases of my soul, and by Thy more abundant grace 
 to quench even the impure motions of my sleep ? Thou 
 wilt increase, Lord, Thy gifts more and more in me, that 
 my soul may follow me to Thee, disentangled from the 
 bird-lime of concupiscence ; that it rebel not against it- 
 self, nor even in dreams commit those debasing corrup- 
 tions, even to pollution of the flesh, nor even consent unto 
 them. For that nothing of this sort should over the pure 
 affections even of a sleeper have the very least influence, 
 not even such as a thought would restrain — to work this, 
 not only during life, but even at my present age, is not 
 hard for the Almighty, Who is able to do above all that 
 we ask or think. But what I yet am in this kind of my 
 evil, have I confessed unto my good Lord ; rejoicing' with 
 trembling, in that which Thou hast given me, and bemoan- 
 ing that wherein I am still imperfect ; hoping, that Thou 
 wilt perfect Thy mercies in me, even to perfect peace, 
 which my outward and inward man shall have with Thee, 
 when death shall be swallowed up in victory. 
 
 [XXXI.] 43. There is another evil of the day, which 
 I would were sufficient for it. For by eating and drink- 
 ing we repair the daily decays of our body, until Thou 
 destroif both belly and meat, when Tfaou shalt day my 
 16 
 
190 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 emptiness with a wonderful fullness, and clotlie this incor- 
 ruptible with, an enternal incorruption. But now the ne- 
 cessity is sweet unto ine, against which sweetness I fight, 
 that I be not taken captive, and carry on a daily war by 
 fastings ; often bringing my body into subjection^ and my 
 pains are removed by pleasure. For hunger and thirst 
 are in a manner pains ; they burn and kill like a fever, 
 unless the medicine of nourishments come to our aid. 
 Which, since it is at hand, through the consolations of 
 Thy gifts, with which land and water, and air, serve our 
 weakness, our calamity is termed gratification. 
 
 44. This hast Thou taught me, that I should set myself 
 to take food as physic. But while I am passing from the 
 discomfort of emptiness to the content of replenishing, in 
 the very passage the snare of concupiscence besets me. 
 For that passing is pleasure, nor is there any other way 
 to pass thither, whither we needs must pass. And health 
 being the cause of eating and drinking, there joineth it- 
 self as an attendant a dangerous pleasure, which mostly 
 endeavors to go before it, so that I may for her sake do 
 what I say I do, or wish to do, for health's sake. N«r 
 have each the same measure ; for what is enough for 
 health, is too little for pleasure. And oft it is uncertain, 
 whether it be the necessary care of the body which is yet 
 asking for sustenance, or whether a voluptuous deceiva- 
 bltness of greediness is proffering its services. In this 
 uncertainty the unhappy soul rejoiceth, and therein pre- 
 pares an excuse to shield itself, glad that it appeareth not 
 what sufficeth for the moderation of health, that under 
 the cloak of health, it may disguise the matter of gratifi- 
 cation. These temptations I daily endeavor to resist, 
 and I call on Thy right hand, and to Thee do I refer my 
 perplexities ; because I have as yet no settled counsel 
 herein. 
 
 45. I hear the voice of my God commanding. Let not 
 your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and drunken- 
 ness. Drunkenness is far from me ; Thou wilt have 
 mercy that it come not near me. But full-feeding some- 
 titiies creepeth upon Thy servant; Thou wilt have mercy 
 that it may be far. from me. For no one can he continent 
 imkss Th^U. §ivfi, it. Many things Thou giyest u^, pray^ 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. „ 191 
 
 ing for them ; and what good soever we have received 
 before we prayed, from Thee we received it ; yea, to the 
 end we might afterwards know this, did we before receive 
 it. Drunkard was I never, but drunkards have I known 
 made sober by Thee. From Thee then it was, that they 
 who never wei'e s'lch, should not so be, as from Thee it 
 was, that they who have been, should not ever so be ; and 
 frofn Thee it was, that both might know from Whom it 
 was. I heard another voice of Thine, Go not after thy 
 lusts, and from tliy pleasure turn away. Yea, by Thy 
 favor have I heard that which I have much loved ; neither 
 if we eat shall we abound ; neither if tee eat not, shall we 
 lack; which is to say, neither shall the one make me 
 plenteous, nor the other miserable. I heard also another, 
 for I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be 
 content ; I know how to abound, and how to suffer need. 
 I can do all things through Christ that strengthencth me. 
 Behold a soldier of the heavenly camp, not the dust which 
 we are. But remember, Lord, that we are dust, and that 
 of dust Thou hast mcide man; and he was lost and is 
 fonnd. Nor could he of himsfelf do this, because he whom 
 I so loved, saying this through the in-breathing of Thy 
 inspiration, was of the same dust. J can do all things 
 (saith he) through him that strengtheneth me. Strengthen 
 liie, that J cara. Give what Thou enjoinest, and enjoin 
 what Thou wilt. He confesses to have received, and 
 whence glorieth,inthe Lord he glorieth. Another have 
 I heard begging that he might receive. Take from me 
 (saith he) the desires of the helly ; whence it appeareth, 
 O my holy God, that Thou givest, when that is done which 
 Thou commandest to be done. 
 
 46. Thou hast taught me, good Father, that to the pUre 
 all things are pure ; but that it is evil unto the man that 
 eateth with offence ; and that every creature of Thine is 
 good, and nothing to he refused, tohich is received by 
 Thanksgiving ; and that meat commendeth us not to God ; 
 and, (hat no man should judge us in meat or drink ; and 
 that he lohich eateth, let him not despise him that eateth 
 not ; and let not him that eateth not, jiidge him that eateth. 
 These things have I learned. Thanks be to Thee, praise 
 to Thee, my God, my Master, knocking at my eafs, en- 
 
192 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 lightening my heart, delivering me out of all temptation. 
 I fear not uncleanness of meat, but the uncleanness 
 of lusting. I know that Noah was permitted to eat all 
 kind of flesh that was good for food ; that Elijah was fed 
 ■with flesh; that John, endued with an admirable absti- 
 pence, was not polluted by feeding on living creatures, 
 locusts. I know also that Esau was deceived by lusting 
 for lentiles ; and that David blamed himself for desiring 
 a draught of water ; and that our King was tempted, not 
 concerning flesh, but bread. And therefore the people in 
 the wilderness also deserved to be reproved, not for desir- 
 ing flesh, but because, in the desire of food, they mur- 
 mured against the Lord. 
 
 47. Placed' then amid these temptations, I strive daily 
 against concupiscence in eating and drinking. For it is 
 not of such nature, that I can settle on cutting it off once 
 for all, and never touching it afterward, as I could of con- 
 cubinage. The bridle of the throat then is to be held at- 
 tempered between slackness and stiffness. And who is 
 he, O Lord, who is not in this transported beyond the 
 limits' of necessity 1 whoever he is, he is a great one ; let 
 him make Thy Name great. But I am not such, for I am 
 a i^inful man. Yet do I too magnify Thy name ; and He 
 maketh intercession to Thee for my sins, who hath over- 
 come the world ; numbering me among the weak viembers of 
 His body ; because Thine eyes have seen my imperfec- 
 tions, and in Thy hook shall all he written. 
 
 [XXXIL] 48. With all the allurements of smells, I am 
 not much concerned. When absent, 1 do not miss them ; 
 when present, I do not refuse them ; yet am ready to be 
 without them. So I seem to myself; perchance I am de- 
 ceived. For that also is a mournful darkness, whereby my 
 abilities within me are hidden from me ; so that my mind, 
 making inquiry into herself of her own powers, ventures 
 not readily to believe herself; because even what is in it, 
 is mostly hidden, unless experience reveal it. And no 
 one ought to be secure in that life, the whole whereof is 
 called a trial, that he who hath been capable, of worse to 
 be made better, may not likewise of better be made worse. 
 Our only hope, only confidence, only assured promise, is 
 Thy mercy. 
 
ST. AUGCSTINE. 198 
 
 [XXXIII.] 49. The delights of the ear had more 
 firmly entangled arid subdued ine ; but Thou didst loosen 
 and free me. Now, in those melodies which Thy words 
 breathe soul into, when sung with a sweet and attuned 
 voice, I do S little repose ; yet aot so as to be held thereby, 
 but that I can disengage myself when I will. But with 
 the words which are their life, and whereby they find ad- 
 mission into me, themselves seek in ray affections a place 
 of some estimation, and I caii scarcely assign them one 
 suitable. For at one time I seem to myself to give them 
 more honor than is seemly, feeling our minds to be more 
 holily and fervently raised unto a flame of devotion, by 
 the holy words themselves when thus sung, than when 
 not ; and that the several affections of our spirit, by a 
 sweet variety, have their own proper measures in the voice 
 and singing, by some hidden correspondence wherewith 
 they are stirred up. But this contentment of the flesh, to 
 which the soul must not be given over to be enervated, 
 doth oft beguile me, the sense not so waiting upon rea- 
 son, as patiently to follow her ; but, having been admitted 
 merely for her sake, it strives even to run before her, and 
 lead her. Thus in these things I unawares sin, but after- 
 wards am aware of it. 
 
 50. At other times, shunning over-anxiously this very 
 deception, I err in too great strictness ; and sometimes to 
 that degree,' as to wish the whole melody of sweet music 
 which is used to David's Psalter, banished from my ears, 
 and the Church's too ; and that mode seems to me safer, 
 which I remember to have been often told me of Athana- 
 sius. Bishop of Alexandria, who made the reader of the 
 psalm utter it with so slight inflection of voice, that it was 
 nearer speaking than singing.. Yet, again, when I re- 
 member the tears I shed at the Psalriiody of Thy Church, 
 in the beginning of my recovered faith ; and how at this 
 time 1 am moved, not with the singing, but with the things 
 sung, when they are sung with a clear voice and modula- 
 tion most suitable, I acknowledge the great use of this 
 institution. Thus I fluctuate between peril of pleasure, 
 and approved wholesomeness : inclined the rather (thou^p 
 not as pronouncing an irrevocable opinion) to aj5{)rofe of 
 the usage of singing in the church ; that so by f he' delight 
 16* 
 
194 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 of the ears, the weaker minds may rise to the feeling of 
 devotion. Yet when it befalls me to be more moved with 
 the voice than the words sung, I confess to have sinned 
 penally, and then had rather not hear music. See now 
 my state ; weep with me, and weep for me, ye, who so 
 regulate your feelings within, that good action ensues. 
 For you who do not act, these things touch not you. But 
 Thou, O Lord my God, hearken ; behold, and see, and 
 have mercy, and heal me. Thou, in whose presence I have 
 become a problem to myself; and that is my infirmity. 
 
 [XXXIV. } 51. There remains the pleasure of these 
 eyes of my flesh, on which to make my confessions in the 
 hearing of the ears of Thy temple, those brotherly and de- 
 vout ears ; and so to conclude the temptations of the lust of 
 the flesh, which yet assail me, groaning earnestly, and desir- 
 ing to be clothed upon with my house from heaven. The eyes 
 love fair and varied forms, and bright and soft colors. Let 
 not these occupy my soul ; let God rather occupy it, who 
 made these things very good indeed, yet is He my good, not 
 they. And these affect me, waking the whole day, nor is 
 any rest given me from them, as there is from musical, 
 sometimes, in silence, from all voices. For this queen of 
 colors, the light, bathing all which we behold, wherever 
 I am through the day, gliding by me in varied forms, soothes 
 me when engaged on other things, and not observing it. 
 And so strongly doth it entwine itself, that, if it be sud- 
 denly withdrawn, it is with longing sought for, and if ab- 
 sent long, saddeneth the mind. 
 
 52. O Thou light which Tobias saw, when with eyes 
 closed, he taught his son the way of life ; and himself went 
 before with the feet of charity, never swerving. Or which 
 Isaac saw, when his fleshly eyes being heavy and closed 
 by old age, it was vouchsafed him, not knowingly, to bless 
 his sons, but by blessing to know them. Or which Jacob 
 saw, who, blind through great age, but with illumined heart, 
 in the persons of his sons, shed light on the different 
 races of the future people, in them foresignified ; and laid 
 his hands, mystically crossed, upon his grandchildren by 
 Joseph, not as their father by his outward eye corrected 
 them, but as himself inwardly discerne^. This is the light, 
 it is one, and all are one, who see and love it. But that 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 195 
 
 corporeal light whereof I spake, it seasoneth the life of this 
 world for her blind lovers, with an enticing and danger- 
 ous sweetness. But they who know how to praise Thee 
 for it, " O AU-ereating Lord," take it up in Thy Hymns, 
 and are not taken up with it in their sleep. Such would 
 I be. These seductions of the eyes I resist, lest my feet, 
 wherewith I walk upon Thy way, be ensnared ; and I lift 
 up mine invisible eyes to Thee, that Thou wouldest pluclc 
 my feet out of the snare. Thou dost ever and anon pluck 
 them out, for they are ensnared. Thou ceasest not to 
 pluck them out, while I often entangle myself in the snares 
 on all sides laid : because Tliou that keepest Israel shalt 
 neither slumber nor sleep. 
 
 53. What innumerable toys, made by divers arts and 
 manufactures, in our apparel, shoes, utensils, and all sort 
 of work? ; in pictures, also, and divers images, and these 
 far exceeding all necessary and moderate use and all pious 
 meaning, have men added to tempt their own eyes withal ; 
 outwardly following what themselves make, inwardly for- 
 saking Him by Whom themselves were made, and destroy- 
 ing that which themselves have been made 1 But I, my 
 God and my Glory, do hence also sing a Hymn to Thee, 
 and do consecrate praise to Him who consecrated me, be- 
 cause those beautiful patterns which through men's souls 
 are conveyed into their cunning hands, come from that 
 Beauty, which is above our souls, which my soul day and 
 night sigheth after. But the framers and followers of the 
 ofitward beauties, derive thence the rule of judging of 
 them, but not of using them. And He is there, though 
 they perceive Him not, that so they might not wander, but 
 keep their strength for Thee, and not scatter it abroad 
 upon pleasurable weariness. And I, though I speak and 
 see this, entangle my steps with these outward beauties ; 
 but Thou pluckest me out, O Lord, Thou pluckest me 
 out ; because Thy loving-kindness is before my eyes. For 
 I am taken miserably, and Thou pluckest me out merci- 
 fully ; sometimes not perceiving it, when I had but lightly 
 lighted upon them ; otherwiles with pain, because I had 
 stuck fast in them. 
 
 [XXXV.] 54. To this is added another form of temp- 
 tation more manifoldly dangerous. For besides that con- 
 
196 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 cupisoence of the flesh, which consisteth in the delight of 
 all senses and pleasures, wherein its slaves, who go far 
 from Thee, waste and perish, the soul hath, through the 
 same senses of the body, a certain vain and curious de- 
 sire, veiled under the title of knowledge and learning, not 
 of delighting in the flesh, but of making experiments 
 through the flesh. The seat whereof being in the appe- 
 tite of knowledge, and sight being the sense chiefly used 
 for attaining knowledge, it is in Divine language called 
 The lust of the eyes. For to see belongeth properly to 
 the eyes ; yet we use this word of the other senses also, 
 when we employ them in seeking knowledge. For we do 
 not say, hark how it flashes, or smell how it glows, or 
 taste how it shines, or feel how it gleams; for all these are 
 said to be seen. And yet we say not only, see how it 
 shineth, which the eyes alone can perceive ; but also, see 
 how it soundeth, see how it smelleth, see how it tasteth, 
 see how hard it is. And so the general experience of the 
 senses, as was said, is called The lust of the eyes, because 
 the ofiice of seeing, wherein the eyes hold the prerogative, 
 the other senses, by way of similitude, take to themselves 
 when they make search after any knowledge. 
 
 55. But by this may more evidently be discerned, 
 wherein pleasure and wherein curiosity is the object of 
 the senses ; for pleasure seeketh objects beautiful, melodi- 
 ous, fragant, savory, soft; but curiosity, for trial's sake, 
 the contrary as well, not for the sake of suffering annoy- 
 ance, but out of the lust of making trial and knowing 
 them. For what pleasure hath it, to see in a mangled car- 
 case what will make you shudder ? and yet if it be lyirig 
 near, they flock thither, to be made sad, and to turn pale. 
 Even in sleep they are afraid to see it. As if when awake, 
 any one forced them to see it, or any report of its beauty 
 drew them thither I Thus also in the other senses, which 
 it were long to go through. From this disease of curios- 
 ity, are all those strange sights exhibited in the theatre. 
 Hence men go on to search out the hidden powers of na- 
 ture, to know what profits not, and wherein men desire 
 nothing but to know. Hence also, if with that same end 
 of perverted knowledge magical arts be inquired by. 
 Hence also in religion itself, is God tempted, when signs 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. [97 
 
 and wonders are demanded of Him, not desired for any 
 good end, but merely to make trial of. 
 
 56. In this so vast wilderness, full of snares and dan- 
 gers, behold many of them I have cut off, and thrust out 
 of my heart, as Thou hast given me power, O God of ray 
 salvation. And yet when dare I say, since so many things 
 of this kind buzz on all sides about our daily life — when 
 dare I say, that nothing of this sort engages my attention; 
 or causes in me an idle interest 1 True, the theatres do 
 not now carry me away, nor care I to know the courses 
 of the stars, nor did my soul ever consult ghosts departed ; 
 all sacrilegious mysteries I detest. From Thee, O Lord 
 my God, to whom I owe humble and single-hearted ser- 
 vice, by what artifices and suggestions doth the enemy 
 deal with me to desire some sign ! But I beseech Thee 
 by our King, and by our pure and holy country, Jerusa- 
 lem, that as any consenting thereto is far from me, so 
 may it ever be further and further. But when I pray Thee 
 for the salvation of any, my end and intention is far dif- 
 ferent. Thou givest and wilt give me to follow Thee 
 willingly, doing what Thou wilt. 
 
 57. Notwithstanding, in how many most petty and con- 
 temptible things is our curiosity daily tempted, and how 
 often we give way, who can recount ? How often do we 
 be^in, as if we were tolerating people telling vain stories, 
 lest we ofiFend the weak ; then by degrees we take interest 
 therein ! I go not now to the circus to see a dog cours- 
 ing a hare ; but in the field, if passing, that coursing per- 
 adventure will distract me even from some weighty 
 thought, and draw me afler it ; not that I turn aside the 
 body of my breast, yet still incline my mind thither. And 
 unless Thou, having made me see my infirmity, didst 
 speedily admonish me either through the sight itself, by 
 some contemplation to rise towards Thee, or altogether 
 to despise and pass it by, I stand fixed. When sitting at 
 home, a lizard catching flies, or a spider entangling them 
 as they rush into her nets, oft-times takes my attention. 
 Is the thing different, because they are but small crea- 
 tures t 1 go on from them to praise Thee the wonderful 
 Creator and Orderer of all, but this does not first draw 
 my attention. It is one thing to rise quickly, another not 
 
198 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 to fall. And of such things is my life full ; and my one 
 hope is Thy" wonderrurg?gn''mBrefr Tor when our heart 
 becomes the receptacle of such things, and is over-charged 
 with throngs of this abundant vanity, then are our prayers 
 also thereby often interrupted and distracted, and whilst 
 in Thy presence we direct the voice of our heart to Thine 
 ears, this so great concern is broken off, by the rushing in 
 of I know not what idle thoughts. Shall we then account 
 this also amorig things of slight concernment, or shall 
 aught bring us back to hope, save Thy complete mercy, 
 since Thou ?iast begun to change us ? 
 
 [XXXVI.] 58. And Thou knowest how far Thou hast 
 already changed me, who first didst heal me of the lust of 
 vindicating myself, that so Thon mightest forgive all the 
 rest of my iniquities, and heal all my infirmities, and re- 
 deem my life from corruption, and crown me with mercy 
 and pity, and satisfy my desire with good things : vvho 
 didst curb my pride with Thy fear, and tame rtiy neck to 
 Thy yoke. And now I beat it and it is light unto me, 
 because so hast Thou promised, and hast made it ; and 
 verily so it was, and I knev(' it not, when I feared to 
 take it. 
 
 59. But, O Lord, Thou alone Lord without* pride, be- 
 cause Thou art the only true Lord, who hast no lord ; 
 hath this third kind of temptation also ceased from me, or 
 can it cease through this whole life? To wish, namely, 
 to be feared and loved of men, for no other end, but that 
 we may have a joy therein which is no joy? A miserable 
 life this, and a foul boastfulness ! Hence especially it 
 comes, that men do neither purely love nor fear Thee. 
 And therefore dost Thou resist the proud, and give grace 
 to the humble ; yea. Thou thunderest down upon the am- 
 bitions of the world, and the foundations of the mountains 
 tremble. Because certain offices of human society make 
 it necessary to be loved and feared of men, the adversary 
 of our true blessedness layeth hard at us, every where 
 spreading his snares of "well-done, well-done;" that 
 greedily catching at them; we may be taken unawares, 
 and sever our joy from Thy truth, and set it in the dfe- 
 ceivingness of men ; and be pleased at being loved and 
 feared, hot for Thy sake, but in Thy stead ; and thus 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 199 
 
 having been made like him, he may have them for his 
 own, not in the bands of charity, but in the bonds of pun- 
 ishment : who purposed to set Ms throne in the north, that 
 dark and chilled they might serve him, pervertedly and 
 crookedly imitating Thee. But we, O Lord, behold we 
 are Thy little flock; possess us as Thine, stretch Thy 
 wings over us, and let us fly under them. Be Thou our 
 glory ; let as be beloved for Thee, and Thy word feared 
 in us. Who would be praised of men, when Thou blam- 
 est, will not be defended of men, when Thou judgest ; 
 nor delivered, when Thou condemnest. But when — not 
 the sinner is praised in the desires of his soul, nor he 
 Messed who doth ungodly, but — a man is praised for 
 some gift which Thou hast given him, and he rejoices 
 more at the praise for himself than that he hath the gift 
 for which he is praised, he also is praised, while Thou 
 dispraisest ; and better is he who praised than he who is 
 praised. For the one took pleasure in the gift of God in 
 man : the other was better pleased with the gift of man, 
 than of God. 
 
 [XXXVII.] 60. By these temptations we are assailed 
 daily, O Lord; without ceasing we are assailed. Our 
 daily /wrnace is the tongue of men. And in this way, also, 
 Thou commandest us continence. Give what Thou en- 
 joinest, and enjoin what Thou wilt. Thou knowest on 
 this matter the groans of my heart, and the floods of mine 
 eyes. For I cannot learn how far I am more cleansed 
 from this plague, and I much fear my secret sins, which 
 Thine eyes know, mine do not. For in other kinds of 
 temptations I have some sort of means for examining my- 
 self;, in this, scarce any. For, in refraining my mind 
 from the pleasures of the flesh, and idle curiosity, I see 
 how much I have attained to, when I do without them ; 
 foregoing, or not having them. For then I ask myself 
 how much more or less troublesome it is to me, not to 
 have them? Then, riches, which are desired, that they 
 may serve to some one or tvvo or all of the three concu- 
 piscences, if the soul cannot discern, whether, when it 
 hath them, it despiseth them, they may be cast aside, that 
 so it may prove itself But to be without praise, and 
 therein essay our powers, must we liy^ iU, yea, so ahan- 
 
200 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 donedly and atrociously, that no one should know without 
 detesting us? What greater madness can be said, or 
 thought of? But if praise useth and ought to accompany 
 a good life and good works, we ought as little to forego 
 its company, as good life itself Yet I know n^^hether 
 I can well or ill be without anyjthing^OTlfsi'It'TCl^sent. 
 
 61." What then"do I confess unto Thee in tTiis'kirid of 
 temptation, O Lord? What, but that I am delighted with 
 praise,- but with truth itself, more than with praise ? For 
 were it proposed to me, whether I would, being phrensied 
 in error on all things, be praised by all men, or being con- 
 sistent and most settled in the truth, be blamed by all, I 
 see which I should choose. Yet fain would I, that the 
 approbation of another should not even increase my joy 
 for any good in me. Yet I own, it doth increase it, and 
 not so only, but dispraise doth diminish it. And when L 
 am troubled at this my misery, an excuse occurs to me, 
 which, of what value it is, Thou God knowest, for it 
 leaves me uncertain. For since Thou hast commanded 
 us not continency alone, that is, from what things to re- 
 frain our love, but righteousness also, that is, whereon to 
 bestow it, and hast willed us to love not Thee only, but 
 our neighbor also ; often, when pleased with intelligent 
 praise, I seem to myself to be pleased with the proficiency 
 or towardliness of my neighbor, or to be grieved for evil 
 in him, when I hear him dispraise either what he under- 
 stands not, or what is good. For sometimes I am grieved 
 at my own praise, either when those things be praised in 
 me, in which I mislike myself, or even lesser and slight 
 goods are more esteemed, than they ought to be. But 
 again how do I know whether I ani thus affected, because 
 I would not have him who praiseth me, differ from me 
 about myself; not as being influenced by concern for 
 him, but because those same good things which please me 
 in myself, please me more when they please another also? 
 For somehow I am not praised when my judgment of 
 myself is not praised ; forasmuch as either thqse things 
 are praised, which displease me ; or those more, which 
 please me less. Am I then doubtful of myself in this 
 matter ? 
 
 62. Behold, in Thee, O Truth, I see, that I ought not 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 201 
 
 to be moved at ray own praises, for my own sake, but for 
 the good of my neighbor. And whether it be so with me, 
 I know not. For herein I know less of myself, than of 
 Thee. I beseech now, O my God, discover to me my- 
 self, also, that I may confess unto my brethren, who are 
 to pray for me, wherein I find myself maimed. Let me 
 examine myself again more diligently. If in my praise I 
 am moved with the good of my neighbor, why ani I less 
 moved if another be unjustly dispraised than if it be my- 
 self? Why am I more stung by reproach cast upon 
 myself, than at that cast upon another, with the same in- 
 justice, before me? Know I not this also? or is it at last 
 that I deceive myself, and do not the truth before Thee in 
 my heart and tongue 1 This madness put far from me, O 
 Lord, lest mine own mouth be to me the sinnir's oil to 
 make fat my head. I am poor and needy ; yet best, 
 while in hidden groanings I displease myself, and seek 
 Thy mercy, until what is lacking in my defective state be 
 renewed and perfected, on to that peace which the eye of 
 the proud knoweth not. 
 
 [XXXVIIL] 63. Yet the word, which cometh out of 
 the mouth, and deeds known to men, bring with them a 
 most dangerous temptation through the love of praise : 
 which, to establish a certain excellency of our own, solic- 
 its and collects men's suffrages. It tempts, even when it 
 is reproved by myself in myself, on the very ground that 
 it is reproved ; and often glories more vainly of the very 
 contempt of vain-glory ; arid so it is no longer contempt 
 of vain-glory, whereof it glories ; for it doth not contemn 
 when it glorieth. 
 
 ' [XXXIX.] 64. Within also, is another evil, arising 
 out of a like temptation ; whereby men become vain, pleas- 
 ing themselves in themselves, though they please not, or 
 displease, or care not to please others. But pleasing them- 
 selves, they much displease Thee, not only taking pleasure 
 in things riot good, as if good, but in Thy good things, as 
 if they were their own ; or if as Thine, as though for their 
 own merits ; or even if as from Thy grace, yet not with 
 brotherly rejoicing, but envying that grace to others. In 
 all these And the like perils and travails, Thou seest the 
 17 
 
202 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 trembling of my heart ; and I rather feel my wounds to 
 be cured by Thee, than not inflicted by me. 
 
 [XL.] 65. Where hast Thou not walked with me, O 
 Truth, teaching me what to beware, and what to desire ; 
 when I referred to Thee what I could discover here be- 
 low, and consulted Thee? With my outward senses, as 
 I might, I surveyed the world, and observed the life, which 
 my body hath from me, and these my senses. Thence 
 entered I the recesses of memory, those manifold and 
 spacious chambers, wonderfully furnished with innume- 
 rable stores ; and I considered and stood aghast ; being 
 able to discern nothing of these things without Thee, and 
 finding none of them to be Thee. Now was I myself, 
 who found out these things, who went over them all, and 
 labored to distinguish and to value every thing according 
 to its dignity, taking some things upon the report of my 
 senses, questioning about others which I felt to be mingled 
 with myself, numbering and distinguishing the reporters 
 themselves, and in the large treasure-house of my memory, 
 revolving some things, storing up others, drawing out oth- 
 ers. Nor yet was I myself when I did this, nor that my 
 power whereby I did it, neither was it Thou, for Thou 
 art the abiding light, which I consulted concerning all 
 these, whether they were, what they were, and how to be 
 valued; and I heard Thee directing and commanding me ; 
 and this I often do, this delights me, and as far as I may 
 be freed from necessary duties, unto this pleasure have I 
 recourse. Nor in3lL^thLes,e,,...aiiskt™! o^J£»*OBS»Uing 
 Thee, can I ffiTd any safe^^^£jor^^jj;g^^/burinjy;ge; 
 
 "iihit'test me to an affection, very unusal, in my inmost soul ; 
 rising to a strange sweetness, which if it were perfected 
 in me, I know not what in it would not belong to the life 
 to come. But through my miserable encumbrances I sink 
 down again into these lower things, and am swept back 
 by former custom, and am held, and greatly weep, but am 
 greatly held. So much doth the burthen of a bad custom 
 weigh, us down. Here I can stay, but would not; there I 
 would, but cannot ; both ways, miserable. 
 
ST. AtTGSTUINE. 203 
 
 [XLI.] 66. Thus then have I considered the sick- 
 nesses of my sins- in that threefold concupiscence, and 
 have called Thy right hand to my help. For with a wound- 
 ed heart have I beheld Thy brightness, and stricken back 
 I said, " who can attain thither? I am cast away from the 
 sight oj Thine eyes." Thou art the Truth who presidest 
 over all, but I, through my covetousness, would not indeed 
 forego Thee, but would with Thee possess a lie ; as no 
 man would in such wise speak falsely, as himself to be 
 ignorant of the truth. So then I lost Thee, because Thou 
 vouchsafest not to be possessed with a lie. 
 
 [XLII.] 67. Whom could I find to reconcile me to 
 Thee ? was I to have recourse to Angels 1 by what prayers 1 
 by what sacraments 1 Many endeavoring to return unto 
 Thee, and of themselves unable, have, as I hear, tried this, 
 and fallen into the desire of curious visions, and been ac- 
 counted worthy to be deluded. For they, being high- 
 minded, sought Thee by the pride of learning, swelling 
 out, rather than smiting upon their breasts, and so by the 
 agreement of their heart, drew unto themselves the princes 
 of the mV, the fellow-conspirators of their pride, by whom, 
 through magical influences, they were deceived, seeking 
 a mediator, by whom they might be purged, and there was 
 none. For the devil it was, transforming himself into an 
 Angel of light. And it much enticed proud flesh, that 
 he had no body of flesh. For they were mortal, and sin- 
 ners ; but Thou, Lord, to whom they proudly sought to be 
 reconciled, art imrnortal, and without sin. But a media- 
 tor between God and man, must have something like to 
 God, something like to men ; lest being in both like to 
 man, he should be far from God : or if irt both like God, 
 too unlike man : and so not be a mediator. That deceitful 
 mediator then, by whom in thy secret judgments pride de- 
 served to be deluded, hath one thing in common with man, 
 that is sin ; another, he would seem to have in common 
 with God ; and not being clothed with the mortality of flesh, 
 would vaunt himself to be immortal. But since the wages 
 of sin is death, this hath he in common with men, that 
 with them he should be condemned to death. 
 
 [XLIIL] 68.~ But the true Mediator, Whom in Thy 
 secret mercy Thou hast shewed to the humble, and sent- 
 
204 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 est, that by His example also they might learn that same 
 humility, that Mediator between God and man, the Man 
 Christ Jesus, appeared betwixt mortal sinners and the im- 
 mortal Just One ; rnortal with men, just-with God : that 
 because the wages of righteousness is life and peace, He 
 might by a righteousness conjoined with God, make void 
 that death of sinners, now made righteous, which He 
 willed to have in common with them. Hence He was 
 shewed forth to holy men of old j that so they, through 
 faith in His Passion to come, as we through faith of it 
 passed, might be saved. For as Man, He was Mediator ; 
 but as the Word, not in the middle between God and man, 
 because equal to God, and God with God, and together 
 one God. 
 
 69. How hast Thou loved us, good Father, who sparedsf 
 not Thine only Son^ but deliver edst Him up for us ungod- 
 ly ! How hast Thou loved us, for \yhom He that thought 
 it no robbery to be equal with Thee, was made subject even 
 to the death of the cross, He alone free among the dead, 
 having power to lay down His life, and power to take it 
 ogadn : for us, both Victor and Victim, and therefore Vic- 
 tor, because the Victim ; for us, Priest and Sacrifice, and 
 therefore Priest because Sacrifice ; making us Thee, of 
 servants, sons, by being born of T^lee, and serving us. 
 Well then is my hope strong in Him, that Thou wilt heal 
 all my infirmities, by Him Who sitteth at Thy right hand 
 and maiceth intercession for us ; else should I despair. 
 For many and great are my infirmities, many they are and 
 great; but Thy medicine is mightier. We might imagine 
 that Thy Word was far from any union with man, and 
 despair of ourselves, unless he had been made flesh and 
 dwelt among us. 
 
 70. Affrighted with my sins and the burthen of my mis- 
 ery, I had cast in my heart, and had purposed to fee to 
 the wilderness : but Thou forbaddest me, and strengthen- 
 edst me, saying. Therefore CJirist died for all, that they 
 which live may now no lot/iger live unto themselves, but unto 
 Him that died for th^m^ See, Lord, I cast my care upon 
 Thee, that I may live, and consider wondrous things out of 
 Thy.law. Thou knowest my unskillfulness, and my infirm- 
 ities ; teach me, and heal me. He Thine only Son, in 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 205 
 
 Wliom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, 
 hath redeemed me with His blood. Let not the proud 
 speak evil of me ; because I meditate on my ransom, and 
 eat and drink, and comltiunicate it; and poor, desired to 
 be satisfied from Him, amongst those that eat and and are 
 satisfied, and they shall praise the Lord who seek Him. 
 
 17* 
 
206 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 THE ELEVENTH BOOK. 
 
 Augmtine breaks off' tbe history of the mode whereby God led him to holy 
 Orders, in order to "confess" God's mercies in opening to him the Scripture. 
 Moaes is not to be understood, but in Christ, not even the first words. In the 
 beginning Ood created the heaven and the earth. Answer to cavillers, who asked, 
 what did God before He created the heaven and tlio earth, and whence willed 
 He at fengnh to make them, whereas He did not make them before I Inquiry 
 into the nature of Time. 
 
 [I.] 1. Lord, since eternity is Thine, art Thou igno- 
 rant of what I say to Thee ? or dost Thou see in time, 
 what passeth in time 1 Why then do I lay in order before 
 Thee so many relations? Not, of a truth, that Thou 
 mightest learn them through me, but to stir up mine own 
 and my readers' devotions towards Thee, that we may all 
 say, Great is the Lord, and greatly to he praised. I have 
 said already, and again will say, for love of Thy love do 
 I this. For we pray also, and yet Truth hath said, Your 
 Father knowetJi what you have need of, before you ask. It 
 is then our affections which we lay" open unto Thee, con- 
 fessing our own miseries, and Thy mercies upon us, that 
 Thou mayest free us wholly, since Thou hast begun, that 
 we may cease to be wretched in ourselves, and be blessed 
 in Thee ; seeing Thou hast called us, to become poor in 
 spirit, and meek, and mourners, and hungering and athirsi 
 after righteousness, and merciful, and pure in heart, and 
 peace-makers. See, I have told Thee many things, as I 
 could and as Iwould, because Thou first wouldest that I 
 should confess unto Thee, My Lord God. For Thou art 
 good, for Thy mercy endureth for ever. 
 
 [II.] 2. But how shall I suffice with the tongue of my 
 pen to utter all Thy exhortations, and all Thy terrors, and 
 comforts, and guidances, whereby Thou broughtest me to 
 preach Thy Word, and dispense Thy Sacrament to Thy 
 people ? And if I suffice to utter them in order, the drops 
 of time are precious with me ; and long have I burned 
 to meditate in Thy law, and therein to confess to Thee 
 my skill and unskillfulness, the day-break of Thy enlight- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 207 
 
 ening, and the remnants of my darkness, until infirmity 
 be swallowed up by strength. And I would not have 
 aught besides steal away thoise hours which I find free 
 from the necessities of refreshing my body and the pow- 
 ers of my mind, and of the service which we ow.e to men, 
 or which, though we owe not, we yet pay. 
 
 3. O Lord ray God, give ear unto my prayer, and let 
 Thy mercy hearken unto my desire : because it is anxious 
 not for myself alone, but would serve brotherly charity ; 
 and Thou seest my heart, that so it is. I would sacrifice 
 to Thee the service of my thought and tongue ; do Thou 
 give me what I may offer Thee. For I am poor and 
 needy, Thou rich to all that call upon Thee; and, inac- 
 cessible to care, carest for us. Circumcise from all rash- 
 ness and all lying both my inward and outward lips : let 
 Thy Scriptures be my pure delights : let me not be de- 
 ceived in them, nor deceive out of them. Lord, hearken 
 and pity, O Lord my God, Light of the blind, and Strength 
 of the weak ; yea, also Light of those that see, and 
 Strength of the strong : hearken unto my soul, and hear 
 it crying out of the depths. For if Thine ears be not 
 with us in the depths also, whither shall we go 1 whither 
 cry ? The day is Thine, and the night is Thine ; at Thy 
 beck the moments flee by. Grant thereof a space for our 
 meditations in the hidden things of Thy law, and close it 
 not against us who knock. For not in vain wouldest 
 Thou have the darksome secrets of so many pages written ; 
 nor are those forests without their harts, which retire 
 therein and range and walk, feed, lie down, and ruminate. 
 Perfect me, O Lord, and reveal them unto me. Behold, 
 Thy voice js my joy ; Thy voice exceedeth the abundance 
 of pleasures. Give what I love : for I do love ; and This 
 hast Thou given : forsake not Thy own gifts, nor despise 
 Thy green herb that thirsteth. Let me confess unto 
 Thee whiatsoever I shall find in Thy bpoks, and hear the 
 voice of praise, and drink in Thee, and meditate on the 
 wonderful things out of Thy law ; even from the begin- 
 ning, jy herein Thou modest the heaven and the earth, unto 
 the everlasting reigning of Thy holy city with Thee. 
 
 4. Lord, have ipercy on npe, and hfar my desire. For 
 }t is not, i deem, of (he ear^h, not of gold and silver, and 
 
208 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 precious stones, or gorgeous apparel, or honors and offices, 
 or tlie pleasures of the flesh, or necessaries for the body 
 and for this life of our pilgrimage; all which shall be ad- 
 ded unto those that seek Thy kingdom and Thy righteous- 
 ness. Behold, O Lord my God, wherein is my desire. 
 The wicked have told me of delights, hut not such as Thy 
 law, O Lord. Behold, wherein is ray desire. Behold, 
 Father, behold, and see and approve ; and be it pleasing 
 in the sight of Thy mercy, that I may find grace before 
 Thee, that the inward parts of -Thy words be opened to 
 me knocking. I beseech by our Lord Jesus Christ Thy 
 Son, tlie Man of Thy right hand, the Son of Man, whom 
 Thou hast estahtished for Thyself, as Thy Mediator and 
 ours, through Whom Thou soughtest us, not seeking 
 Thee, but soughtest us, that we might seek Thee — Thy 
 Word, through Whom Thou modest all things, and among 
 them, me also — Thy Only Begotten, through whom Thou 
 calledst to adoption the believing people, and therein rae 
 also — I beseech Thee by Him, who sitteth at Thy right 
 hand, and intercedeth with Thee for us, in Whom are 
 hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. , These 
 do I seek in Thy books. Of Him did Moses tvrite ; this 
 saith Himself; this saith the Truth. 
 
 [IIL] 5. I would hear and understand how, " In the 
 Beginning Thou madest the heaven and earth." Moses 
 wrote this, wrote and departed, passed hence irom Thee 
 to Thee ; nor is he now before me. For if he were, I 
 would hold him and ask him, and beseech him by Thee 
 to open these things unto me, and would lay the ears of 
 my body to the sounds bursting out of his mouth. And 
 should he speak Hebrew, in vain will it strike on my sen- 
 ses, nor would aught of it touch my mind ; but if Latin, 
 I should know what he said. But vvhence should I know 
 whether he spake the truth ? Yea, and if I knew this 
 also, should I know it from him 1 Truly within me, 
 within, in the chamber of my thoughts. Truth, neither 
 Hebrew, nor Greek, nor Latin, nor barbarian, without or- 
 gans of voice or tongue, or sound of syllables, would say, 
 " It is truth," and I forthwith should say confidently to that 
 man of Thine, " thou sayest truly." Whereas then I can- 
 not inquire of him. Thee, Thee I beseech, O Truth, full 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 209 
 
 of "Whom he spake truth, Thee, my God, I beseech, forf 
 give my sins ; and Thou, who gavest him to speak these 
 things, give to me also to understand them. 
 
 [IV.] 6. Behold, the heavens and the earth are ; they 
 proclaim that they were c/eated ; for they change and vary. 
 Whereas whatsoever hath not been made, and yet is, hath 
 nothing in it, which it had not before ; and this it is, to 
 change and vary. They proclaim, also, that they made 
 not themselves ; " we are, because we have been made ; 
 we were not, therefore, before we were, so as to make 
 ourselves." Now the evidence of the thing is the voice 
 of the speakers. Thou, therefore. Lord, madest them ; 
 who art beautiful, for they are beautiful ; who art good, 
 for they are good ; who Art, for they are ; yet are they 
 not beautiful nor good, nor are they, as Thou their Crea- 
 tor art ; compared with Whom, they are neither beauti- 
 ful, nor good, nor are. This we know, thanks be to Thee. 
 And our knowledge, compared with Thy knowledge, is 
 ignorance. 
 
 [v.] 7. But how didst Thou malfe the heaven and the 
 earth? and wh^t was the engine of Thy sp mighty fabric? 
 For it was not as a human artificer, forming one body 
 from another, according to the discretion of his mind, 
 which can in some way invest with such a form, as it 
 seeth in itself by its inward eye. And whence should he 
 be able to do this, unless Thou hadst made that mind? 
 for he invests with a form what already existeth and hath 
 a being, as clay, or stone, or wood, or gold, or the like. 
 And whence should they be, hadst not Thou appointed 
 them ? Thou madest the artificer's body ; his mind com- 
 manding his limbs ; the matter whereof he makes any 
 thing ; the apprehension whereby to take in his art, and 
 see within, what he doth without; the sense of his body, 
 whereby, as by an interpreter, he may from mind to mat- 
 ter, convey that which he doth, and report to his mind 
 what is done ; that his mind may consult the truth, which 
 presideth over it, whether it he welldpne or no. All these 
 praise Thee, the Creator of all. But how dost Thou make 
 them? how, O God, didst Thou malce heaven and earth ? 
 Verily, neither in the heaven, nor in the earth, didst Thou 
 make heaven axid earth ; nor in the air, or waters, seeing 
 
210 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 these also belong to the heaven and the earth ; nor in the 
 whole world didst Thou make the whole world ; because 
 there was no place where to make it, before it was made, 
 that it might be. Nor didst Thou hold anything in Thy 
 hand, whereof to make heaven and earth; - For whence 
 shouldest Thou have this, which Thou hadst not made, 
 thereof to make anything? For what is, but because 
 Thou artr Therefore Thou spakest, and they were made, 
 and in Thy Word Thou madest them. 
 
 [VI.] 8. But how didst Thou speak? ^ In the way that 
 the voice came out of the cloud, saying. This is my he- 
 loved Son ? For that voice passed by and passed away, 
 began and ended ; the syllables sounded and passed away, 
 the second after the first, the third after the second, and 
 so forth in order, Until the last after the rest, and silence 
 after the last. Whence it is abundantly clear and plain 
 that the motion of a creature expressed it, itself temporal, 
 serving Thy eternal will. And these Thy words, created 
 for a time, the outward ear reported to the intelligent 
 soul, whose inward ear lay listening to Thy Eternal Word. 
 But she compared these words sounding in time, with Thy 
 Eternal Word in silence, and said " It is different, far 
 different. " These words are far beneath me, nor are they, 
 because they flee and pass away ; but the Word of my 
 Lord abideth above me for ever." If then in sounding 
 and passing words Thou saidst that heaven and earth 
 should be made, and so madest heaven and earth, there was 
 a corporeal creature before heaven and earth, by whose 
 motions in time that voice might take his course in time. 
 But there was naught corporeal before heaven and earth; 
 or if there were, surely Thou hadst, without such a passing 
 voice, created that, whereof to make this passing voice, 
 by which to say. Let the heaven and the earth be made. 
 For whatsoever that were, whereof such a voice were 
 made, unless by Thee it were made, it could not be at 
 all. By what Word then didst Thou speak, that a body 
 might be made, whereby these words again might be 
 made ? 
 
 [VII.] 9. Thou callest us then to understand the Worrf, 
 God with Thee God, Which is spoken eternally, and by 
 It are all things spoken eternally. For what was spoken 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 211 
 
 was not spoken successively, one thing concluded that 
 the next might be spoken, but all things together and 
 eternally. Else have we time and change ; and not a 
 true eternity nor true immortality. This I know, O my 
 God, and give thanks. I know, I confess to Thee, O 
 Lord, and with me doth know and bless Thee, whoso is 
 not unthankful to assured Truth. We know. Lord, we 
 know ; since inasmuch as any thing is not which was, and 
 is, which was not, so far forth it dieth and ariseth. Noth- 
 ing then of Thy word doth give place or replace, because 
 It is truly immortality and eternal. And therefore unto 
 the Word coeternal with Thee Thou dost at once and 
 eternally say all that Thou dost say ; and whatever Thou 
 sayest shall be made is made; nor dost Thou make, 
 otherwise than by saying ; and yet are not all things made 
 together, or everlasting, which Thou makest by saying. 
 
 [VIIL] 10. Why, I beseech Thee, O Lord my God? 
 I see it in a way ; but how to express it, I know not, un- 
 less it be, that whatsoever begins to be, and leaves off to 
 be, begins then, and leaves off then, when in Thy eternal 
 Reason it is known, that it ought to begin or leave off; 
 in which Reason nothing beginneth or leaveth off. This 
 is Thy Word, which is also " the Beginning, because 
 also It speaketh unto us." Thus in the Gospel He 
 speaketh through the flesh ; and this sounded outwardly 
 in the ears of men ; that it might be believed and sought 
 inwardly, and found in the eternal Yerity ; where the good 
 and only Master teacheth all His disciples. There, Lord, 
 hear I Thy voice speaking unto me ; because He speak- 
 eth unto us. Who teacheth us ; but he that teacheth us 
 not, though He speaketh, to us He speaketh not. Who* 
 now teacheth us, but the unchangeable Truth 1 for even 
 when we are admonished through a changeable creature ; 
 we are but led to the unchangeable Truth ; where we 
 learn truly, while we stand and Mar Him, and rejoice 
 greatly because qf the Bridegroom' s voice, restoring us to 
 Him, from Whom we are. And therefore the Beginning, 
 because unless It abide, there should not, when we went 
 astray, be whither to return. But when we return from 
 error, it is through knowing that we return ; and that we 
 
212 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 may know, He teacheth us, because He is the Beginning, 
 and speaking unto us. 
 
 [IX.] 11. In this Beginning, O God, hast Thou made 
 heaven and earth, in Thy Word, in Thy Son, in. Thy 
 Power, in Tliy Wisdom, in Thy Truth; wondrously 
 speaking, and wondrously making. Who shall compre- 
 hend ? Who declare it ? What is that which gleams 
 through me, and strikes my heart without hurting it ; and 
 I shudder and kindle? I shudder, inasmuch as I am 
 unlike it ; I kindle, inasmuch as I am like it. It is 
 Wisdom, Wisdom's self which gleameth through me; 
 severing my cloudiness which yet again mantles over me, 
 fainting from it, through the darkness wliich for my pun- 
 ishment gathers upon me. For my strength is brought 
 down in need, so that I cannot support my blessings, till 
 Thou, Lord, Who hast been gracious to all mine iniqui- 
 ties, shalt heal all my infirmities. For Thou shalt also 
 redeem my life Jrom corruption, and crown me with loving 
 kindness and tender mercies, and shalt satisfy my desire 
 with good things, because my youth shall be renewed like 
 an eaglets. For in hope we are saved, wherefore we 
 through patience wait for Thy promises. Let him that 
 is able, hear Thee inwardly discoursing out of Thy ora- 
 cle : I will boldly cry out. How wonderful are Thy 
 Works, O Lord, in Wisdom hast Thou made them all; 
 and this Wisdom is the Beginning, aad in that Beginning 
 didst Thou make heaven and earth. 
 
 [X.] 12. Lo are they not full of their old leaven, who 
 say to us, " What was God doing before He made heaven 
 and earth ?" " For if, (say they,) He were unemployed 
 ' and wrought not, why does He hot also henceforth, and 
 for ever, as He did heretofore? For did any new motion 
 arise in God, and a new will to make a creature, which 
 he had never before made, how then would that be a true 
 eternity, where there ariseth a will, which was not ? For 
 the will of God is not a creature, but before the creature; 
 seeing nothing could be created, unless the will of the 
 Creator had preceded. The will of God then belongeth 
 to His very Substance. And if aught have arisen in God's 
 Substance, which before was not, that Substance cannot 
 be truly called eternal. But if the will of God has been 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 213 
 
 from eternity that the creature should be, why was not 
 the creature from eternity V 
 
 [XL] 13. Who speak thus, do not yet understand Thee, 
 O Wisdom of God, Light of souls ; understand not yet 
 how the things be made, which by Thee, and in Thee are 
 made : yet they strive to comprehend things eternal, whilst 
 their heart fluttereth between the motions of things past 
 and to come, and is still unstable. Who shall hold it, and 
 fix it, that it be settled awhile, and awhile catch the glory 
 of that ever-fixed Eternity, and compare it with the times 
 which are never fixed, and see that it cannot be compared ; 
 and that a long time cannot become long, but out of many 
 motions passing by, which cannot be prolonged altogeth- 
 er ; but that in the Eternal nothing passeth, but the whole 
 is present; whereas no time is all at once present; and 
 that all time is past, is driven on by time to come, and all 
 to come followeth upon the past ; and all past and to come, 
 is created, and flows out of that which is ever present ? 
 Who shall hold the heart of man, that it may stand still, 
 and see how eternity ever still-standing, neither past nor 
 to come, uttereth the times past and to come t Can my 
 hand do this, or the hand of my mouth by speech bring 
 about a thing so great 1 
 
 [12.] 14. See, I answer him that asketh,. " What did 
 God before He made heaven and earth ? " I answer not 
 as one is said to have done, merrily, (eluding the pressure 
 of the question,) " He was preparing hell for pryers into 
 mysteries." It is one thing to answer inquiries, another 
 to make sport of inquirers. So I answer not ; for rather 
 had I answer, "I know not," what I know not, than so 
 as to raise a laugh at him who asketh deep things and 
 gain praise for one who answereth false things. But I say 
 that Thou, our God, art the Creator of every creature : 
 and if by the name " heaven and earth," every creature 
 be understood ; I boldly say, " that before God made heav- 
 en and earth. He did not make any thing. For if He 
 made, what did He make but a creature ? And would I 
 knew whatsoever I desire to know to my profit, as I know, 
 that no creature was made, before there was made, any 
 creature. 
 
 [Xni.] 15. But if any excursive brain rove over the 
 18 
 
214 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 images of forepassed times, and wonder that Thou the 
 God Almighty and All-creating and All-supporting, Mak- 
 er of heaven and earth, didst for innumerable ages for- 
 bear from so great a work, before Thou wouldest make 
 it ; let him awake and consider, that he wonders at false 
 conceits. For whence could innumerable ages pass by, 
 which Thou madest not. Thou the Author and Creator of 
 all ages 1 or what times should there be, which were not 
 made by Thee? or how should they pass by, if they never 
 were? Seeing then Thou art the Creator of all times, if 
 any time was before Thou madest heaven and earth, why 
 say they that Thou didst forego working? For that very 
 time didst Thou make, nor could times pass by, before 
 Thou madest those times. But if before heaven and earth 
 there was no time, why is it demanded, what Thou then 
 didst?, For there was no "then," when there was no 
 time. 
 
 16. Nor dost Thou by time, precede time : else should- 
 est Thou not precede all times. But Thou precedest all 
 things past, by the sublimity of an ever-present eternity ; 
 and surpassest all future because they are future, and 
 when they come, they shall be past ; hut Thou art the 
 Same, and Thy years fail not. Thy years neither come 
 nor go ; whereas ours both come and go, that they all may 
 come. Thy years stand together, because they do stand ; 
 nor are departing thrust out by coming years, for they 
 pass not away ; but ours shall all be, when they shall be 
 no more. Thy years are one day ; and Thy day is not 
 daily, but To-day, seeing Thy To-day gives not place unto 
 to-morrow, for neither doth it replace yesterday. Thy 
 To-day is Eternity, therefore didst Thou beget The Co- 
 eternal, to whom Thou saidst. This day have I begotten 
 Thee. Thou hast made all things; and before all times 
 Thou art : neither in any time was time not. 
 
 [XIV.] 17. At no time then hadst Thou not made any 
 thing, because time itself Thou madest. And no times 
 are coeternal, with Thee because Thou abidest ; but if they 
 abode, they should not be times. For what is time ? Who 
 can readily and briefly explain this? Who can even in 
 thought comprehend it, so as to utter a word about it? 
 But what in discourse. do we mention more familiarly and 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE.. 215 
 
 knowingly, than time? And we understand when we 
 speak of it ; we understand also, when we hear it spoken 
 of by another. What then is time? If no one asks me, 
 I know : if I wish to explain it to one that asketh, I know 
 not : yet I say boldly, that I know, that if nothing passed 
 away, time past vfere not ; and if nothing were coming, 
 a time to come were not ; and if nothing were, time pres- 
 ent were not. Those two times then, past and to come, 
 how are they, seeing the past now is not, and that to come 
 is not yet? But the present, should it always be present, 
 and never pass into tinie past, verily it should not be time, 
 but eternity. If time present (if it is to be time) only 
 Cometh into existence, because it passeth into time past, 
 how can we say that either this is, whose cause of being is, 
 that it shall not be; so, .namely, that v/e cannot truly say 
 that time is, but because it is tending not to be ? 
 
 [XV.] 18. And yet we say, " a long time" and a " short 
 time ; " still, only of time past or to come. *A long time 
 past (for example) we call an hundred years since ; and a 
 long time to come, an hundred years hence. But a short 
 time past, we call (suppose) ten days since ; and a short 
 time to come, ten days hence. But in what sense is that 
 long or short, which is not ? For the past, is not now ; 
 and the future, is not yet. Let us not then say, " it is 
 long; " but of the past, " it hath been long ; " and of the 
 future, " it will be long." O my Lord, my Light, shall 
 not here also Thy Truth mock at man ? For that past 
 time which was long, was it long when it was now past, 
 or when it was yet present ? For then might it be long, 
 when there was what could be long ; but when past, it was 
 no longer ; wherefore, neither could that be long, which 
 was not at all. Let us not then say, "time past hath- 
 been long; " for we shall not find, what hath been long, 
 seeing that since it was past, it is no more ; but let us say, 
 " that present time was long ; " because, when it was pres- 
 ent, it was long. For it had not yet passed away, so as 
 not to be ; and therefore there was, what could be long ; 
 but after it was past, that ceased also to be long, which 
 ceased to be. 
 
 19. Let us see then, thou soul of man, whether present 
 time can be long: for to thee it is given to feel and to 
 
216 , CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 measure length of time. What wilt thou answer me ? Are 
 an hundred years, when present, a long time 1 See first, 
 whether an hundred years can be present. For if the 
 first of these years be now current, it is present, but the 
 other ninety and nine are to come, and thei:efore are not 
 yet, but if the second year be current, one is now past, 
 another present, the rest to come. And so if we assume 
 any middle year of this hundred to be present, all before 
 it are past; all after it to come; wherefore an hundred 
 years cannot be present. But see at least whether that 
 one which is now current, itself is present ; for if the cur- 
 rent month be its first, the rest are to come ; if the second, 
 the first is already past, and the rest are not yet. There- 
 fore neither is the year now current present ; and if not 
 present as a whole, then is not the year present. For 
 twelve months are a year ; of which whatever be the cur- 
 rent month is present ; the rest past or to come. Although 
 neither is that current month present ; but one day only ; 
 the rest being to come, if it be the first; past, if the last; 
 if any of the middle, then arflid past and to come. 
 
 20. See how the present time, which alone we found, 
 could be called long, is abridged to the length scarce of 
 one day. But let us examine that also ; because neither 
 is one day present as a whole. For it is made up of four 
 and twenty hours of night and day : of which, the first 
 hath the rest to come ; the last hath them past ; and any 
 of the middle hath those before it passed, those behind it 
 to come. Yea, that one hour passeth away in flying par- 
 ticles. Whatsoever of it hath flown away, is past; what- 
 soever remaineth, is to come. If an instant of time be 
 conceived, which cannot be divided into the smallest par- 
 ticles of moments, that alone is it, which may be called 
 present. Which yet flies with such speed from future to 
 past, as not to be lengthened out with the least stay. For 
 if it be, it is divided into past and future. The present 
 hath no space. Where then is the time, which we may 
 call long? Is it to come? Of it we do not say, "it is 
 long ;^' because it is not yet, so as to be long ; but we say, 
 " it will be long." When therefore will it be f For if 
 even then, when it is yet to come, it shall not be long, 
 (because What can be long, as yet is not,) and so it shall 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 217 
 
 then be long, when from future which as yet is not, it 
 shall begin now to be, and have beoome present, that so 
 there should exist what may be long ; then does time, pres- 
 ent cry out in the words above, that it cannot be long. 
 
 [XVI.] 21. And yet. Lord, we perceive intervals of 
 times, and compare them, and say, some are shorter, and 
 others longer. We measure, also, how much longer or 
 shorter this time is than that; and we answer, " This is 
 double, or treble ; and that, but once, or only just so much 
 as that." But we measure times as, they are passing, by 
 perceiving them ; but past, which now are not, or the fu- 
 ture, which are not yet, who can measure ? unless a man 
 shall presume to say, that can be measured, which is not. 
 When the time is passing, it may be perceived and meas- 
 ured ; but when it is past, it cannot, because it is not. 
 
 [XVII.] 22. I ask. Father, I affirm not; O my God, 
 rule and guide me. " Who will tell me that there are not 
 three times, (as we learned when boys, and taught boys,) 
 ■past, present, and future ; but present only, because those 
 two are not 1 Or are they also ; and when from future it 
 becometh present, doth it come out of some secret place; 
 and so, when retiring, from present it becometh past 1 For 
 where did they, who foretold things to come, see them, if 
 as yet they be -not ? For that which is not, cannot be seen. 
 And they who relate things past, could not relate them, if 
 in mind they did not discern them, and if they were not, 
 they could no way be discerned. Things then past and to 
 come are." 
 
 [XVIII.] 23. Permit me. Lord, to seek further. O my 
 Hope, let not my purpose be confounded. For if times 
 past and to come be, I would know where they be. Which 
 yet if I cannot, yet I know, wherever they be, they are 
 not there as future, or past, b>it present. For if there alscf 
 they be future, they are not yet there ; if there also they 
 be past, they are no longer there. Wheresoever then is 
 whatsoever is, it is only as present. Although when past 
 facts are related, there are drawn out of the memory, not 
 the things themselves which are past, but words which, 
 conceived by the images of the things, they, in passing, 
 have through the senses left as traces in the mind. Thu§ 
 my childhood, which now is not, is in time pja^, s^hicji 
 18* 
 
218 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 now is not : but now when I recall its image, and tell of 
 it, I behold it in the present, because it is still in my 
 memory. Whether there be a like cause of foretelling- 
 things to come also ; that of things which as yet are not, 
 the images may be perceived before already existing, I 
 confess, O my God, I know not. This indeed I know, 
 that we generally think before on our future actions, and 
 that that forethinking is present, but the action whereof 
 we forethink is not yet, because it is to come. Which, 
 when we have set upon, and have begun to do what we 
 were forethinking, then shall that action be ; because then 
 it is no longer future, but present. 
 
 24. Which way soever then this secret fore-perceiving 
 of things to come be, that only can be seen which is. 
 But what now is, is not future, but present. When then 
 things to come are said to be seen, it is not themselves 
 which as yet are not, (that is, which are to be,) but their 
 causes, perchance, or signs, are seen, which already are. 
 Therefore they are not future but present to those who 
 now see that, from which the future, being fore-conceived 
 in the mind, is foretold. Which fore-conceptions again 
 now are ; afid those who foretell those things, do behold 
 the conceptions present before them. Let now the numer- 
 ous variety of things furnish me some example. I behold the 
 day-break, I foreshew that the sun is about to rise. What 
 I behold, is present; what I fore-signify, to come; not 
 the sun, which already is ; but the sun-rising, which is not 
 yet. And yet did I not in my mind imagine the sun-rising 
 itself, (as now while I speak of it,) I could not foretell it. 
 But neither is that day-break, which I discern in the sky, 
 the sun-rising, although it goes before it ; nor that imag- 
 ination of my mind ; which two are seen now present, 
 that the other which is to be may be foretold. Future 
 things then are not yet ; and if they be not yet, they are 
 not ; and if they are not, they cannot be seen ; yet fore- 
 told they may be from things present, which are already, 
 and are seen. 
 
 [XIX.] 25. Thou, then. Ruler of Thy creation, by 
 what way dost Thou teach souls things to come? For 
 Thou didst teach Thy Prophets. By what way dost Thou, 
 to Whom nothing is to come, teach things to come ; or 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 219 
 
 rather of the future dost teach things present? For, what 
 is not, neither can it be taught. Too far is this way out 
 of my ken : it is too mighty for me, I cannot attain unto 
 it ; but from Thee I can, when Thou shalt vouchsafe it, 
 O sweet Light of my hidden eyes. 
 
 [XX.] 26. What now is clear and plain is, that neither 
 things to come nor past are. Nor is it properly said, 
 " there be three times, past, present, and to come :" yet 
 perchance it might be properly said, " there be threes 
 times ; a present of things past, a present of things pres- 
 ent, and a present of things future." For these three do 
 exist, in some sort, in the soul, but otherwise do I not see 
 them ; present of things past, memory ; present of things 
 present, sight ; present of things future, expectation. If 
 thus we be permitted to speak, I see three times, and I 
 confess there are three. Let it be said, too, " there be 
 three times, past, present, and to come," in our incorrect 
 way. See, I object not, nor gainsay, nor find fault, if what 
 is so said be but understood, that neither what is to be, 
 now is, nor what is past. For but few things are there, 
 which we speak properly, most things improperly ; still 
 the things intended are understood. 
 
 [XXI.] 27. I said then even now, we measure times as 
 they pass, in order to be able to say, this time is twice so 
 much as that one; or, this is just so much as that; and 
 so of any other parts of time which be measurable. 
 Wherefore, as I said, we measure times as they pass. 
 And if any should ask me, "How knowest Thou?" I 
 might answer, " I know that we do measure, nor can we 
 measure things that are not ; and things past and to come 
 are not." But time present how do we measure, seeing 
 it hath no space? It is measured while passing, but when 
 it shall have passed, it is not measured ; for there will be 
 nothing to be measured. But whence, by what way, and 
 whither passes it while it is a measuring T whence, but 
 from the future ? Which way, but through the present ? 
 whither, but into the past 1 From that, therefore, which 
 is not yet, through that, which hath no space, into that, 
 which now is not Yet what do we measure, if not time 
 in some space ? For we do not say single, and double, 
 and triple, and equal, or any other like way that we speak 
 
320 
 
 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 of time, except of spaces of times. In what space then do 
 we measure time passing I In the future, whence it pass- 
 eth through ? But what is not yef, we measure not. Or 
 iti the present, by which it passes l but no space, we do 
 not measure : or in the past, to which it passes? But 
 neither do we measure that which now is not. 
 
 [XXII.] 38. My soul is on fire to know this most in- 
 tricate enigma. Shut it not up, O Lord my God, good 
 Father ; through Christ I beseech Thee, do not shut up 
 these usual, yet hidden things, from my desire, that it be 
 hindered from piercing into them ; but let them dawn 
 through Thy enlightening mercy, O Lord. Whom shall 
 I inquire of concerning these things ? and to whom shall 
 I more fruitfully confess my ignorance, than to Thee, to 
 Whom these my studies, so veheniently kindled towards 
 Thy Scriptures, are not troublesome ? Give what I love ; 
 for I do love, and this hast Thou given me. Give, 
 Father, Who truly hnowest to give good gifts unto Thy 
 children. Give, because I have taken upon me to know, 
 and trouble is before me until Thou openest it. By Christ 
 I beseech Thee, in His Name, Holy of holies, let no man 
 disturb me. For I believed., and therefore do I speak. 
 This is my hope, for this do I live, that /may contemplate 
 the delights of the Lord. Behold, Thou hast made m,y 
 days old, and they pass away, and how, I know not. And 
 we talk of time, and time, and times, and times, " How 
 long time is it since he said this V " how long time since 
 he did thisf and " how long time since I saw that V and 
 " this syllable hath double time to that single short sylla- 
 ble." These words we speak, and these we hear, and are 
 understood, and understand. Most manifest and ordinary 
 they are, and the self-same things again are but too deeply 
 hidden, and the discovery of them were new. 
 
 [XXIII.] 29. I heard once from a learned man, that 
 the motions of the sun, moon, and stars, constituted time, 
 and I assented not. For why should not the motions of 
 all bodies rather be times ? Or, if the lights of heaven 
 should cease, and a potter's wheel run round, should there 
 be no time by which we might measure those whirlings, 
 and say, that either it moved with equal pauses, or if it 
 turned sometimes slower, otherwhiles quicker, that some 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 221 
 
 rounds were longer, others shorter ? Or, while we were 
 saying this, should v/e not also be speaking in time 1 Or, 
 should there in our words be some syllables short, others 
 long, but because those sounded in a shorter time, these 
 in a longer 1 God, grant to men to see in a small thing, 
 notices common to things great and small. The stars 
 and lights of heaven, are also /or signs, and for seasons, 
 and for years, and for days ; they are ; yet neither should 
 I say, that the going round of that wooden wheel was a 
 day, nor yet he, that it was therefore no time. 
 
 30. I desire to know the force and nature of time, by 
 which we measure the motions of bodies, and say, (for 
 example,) this motion is twice as long as that. For I ask. 
 Seeing "day" denotes not the stay only of the sun upon 
 the earth, (according to which day is one thing, night 
 another if but also its whole circuit from east to east 
 again ; according to which we say, " there passed so 
 many days," the night being included when we say, " so 
 many days," and the nights not reckoned apart : — seeing 
 then a day is completed by the motion of the sun and by 
 his circuit from" east to east again, I ask, does the motion 
 alone make the day, or the stay in which that motion is 
 completed, or both l For if the first be the day ; then 
 should we have a day, although the sun should finish that 
 course in so small a space of time, as one hour comes to. 
 If the second, then should not that make a day, if between 
 one sun-rise and another there were but so short a stay, 
 as one hour comes to ; but the sun must go four and 
 twenty times about, to complete one day. If both, then 
 neither could that be called a day, if the sun should run 
 his whole round in the space of one hour ; nor that, if, 
 while the sun stood still, so much time should overpass, as 
 the sun usually makes his whole course in, from morning 
 to morning. I will not, therefore, now ask, what that is 
 which is called day ; but, what time is, whereby we, 
 measuring the circuit of the sun, should say, that it was 
 finished in half the time it was wont, if so be it was fin- 
 ished in so small a space as twelve hours ; and comparing 
 both times, should call this a single time, that a double 
 time ; even supposing the sun to run his round from east 
 to east, sometimes in that single, sometimes in that double 
 
222 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 time. iLet no man then tell me, that the motions of the 
 heavenly bodies constitute times, because, when at, the 
 prayer of one, the sun had stood still, till he could achieve 
 his victorious battle, the sun stood still, but time went on. 
 For in its own allotted space of time was that battle waged 
 and ended. I perceive time then to be a certain exten- 
 sion. But do I perceive it, or seem to perceive it 1 Thou, 
 Light and Truth, vvilt shew me. 
 
 [XXIV.] 31. Dost Thou bid me assent, if any define 
 time to be " motion of a body V-' Thou dost not bid me. 
 For that no body is moved, but in time, I hear ; this Thou 
 sayest; but that the motion of a body is time, I hear not ; 
 Thou sayest it not. For when , a body is moved, I by 
 time measure, how long it moveth, from the time it began 
 to move, until it left off? And if I did not see whence 
 it began ; and it continue to move so that I see not when 
 it ends, I cannot measure, save perchance from the time I 
 began, until I cease to see. And if I look long, I can 
 oiily pronounce it to be, a long time, but not how long ; 
 because when we say " how lop.g," we do it by compari- 
 son ; ^s, " this is as long as that," or " this twice so long 
 as that," or the like. But when we can mark the dis- 
 tances of the places, whence and whither goeth the body 
 moved, or his parts, if it moved as in a lathe, then can we 
 say precisely, in how much time the motion of that bgdy 
 or his part, from this place unto that, was finished. See- 
 ing therefore the motion of a body is one thing, that by 
 which we measure how long it is, another ; who sees not, 
 which of the two is rather to be called time 1 For and if 
 a body be sometimes moved, sometimes stands still, then 
 we measure not his motion only, but his standing still too 
 by time; and we say, " it stood still, as much as it mov- 
 ed ;" or, " it stood still twice or thrice as long as it 
 moved ;" or any other space which our measuring hath 
 either ascertained, or guessed ; more or less, as we used 
 to say. Time then is not the motion of a body. 
 
 [XXV.] 32. And I confess to Thee, O Lord, that I 
 yet know not what time is, and again I confess unto Thee, 
 O Lord, that I know that I speak this in time, and that 
 having long spoken of time, that very " long" is not long, 
 but by the pause of time. How then know I this, seeing 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 223 
 
 I know not what time is ? or is it perchance that I know 
 not how to express what I know 1 Woe is me, that do 
 not even know, what I know not. Behold, O my God, 
 before Thee I lie not ; but as I speak, so is my heart. 
 Thou shalt light my candle ; Thou, O Lord my God, 
 wilt enlighten my darkness. 
 
 [XXVI.] 33. Does not my soul most truly confess unto 
 Thee, that I do measure times? Do I then measure, O 
 my God, and know not what I measure ? I measure the 
 motion of a body in time ; and the time itself do I not 
 measure? Or could I indeed measure the motion of a 
 body, how long it were, and in how long space it could 
 come from this place to that, without measuring the time 
 in which it is moved? This same time then, how do I 
 measure? do we by a shorter time measure a longer, as 
 by the space of a cubit, the space of a rood ? for so in- 
 deed we seem by the space of a short syllable, to measure 
 the space of a long syllable, and to say that this is double 
 the other. Thus measure we the spaces of stanzas, by 
 the spaces of the verses, and the spaces of the verses, by 
 the spaces of the feet, and the spaces of the feet, by the 
 spaces of the syllables, and the spaces of long, by the 
 spaces of short syllables ; not measuring by pages, (for 
 then we measure spaces, not times ;) but when we utter 
 the words and they pass by, and we say, " it is a long stan- 
 za, because composed of so many verses; long verses, 
 because consisting of so many feet; long feet, because 
 prolonged by so many syllables; a long syllable because 
 double to a short one." But neither do we this way ob- 
 tain any certain measure of time; because it may be, that 
 a shorter verse, pronounced more fully, may take up 
 more time than a longer, pronounced hurriedly. And so 
 for a verse, a foot, a syllable. Whence it seemed to me, 
 that time is nothing else than protraction ; but of what, I 
 know not; and I marvel, if iit be not of the mind itself? 
 For what I beseech Thee, O my God, do I measure, when 
 I say, either indefinitely, " this is a longer time than that," 
 or definitely, " this is double that ?" That I measure 
 time, I know ; and yet I measure not time to come, for it 
 is not yet ; nor present, because it is not protracted by 
 
224 CONFESSIONS or 
 
 any space ; nor past, because it now is not. What thien 
 do I measure 1. Times passing, not past 1 for so I said. 
 
 [XXVII.] 34. Courage, my mind, and press on mighti- 
 ly. God is our helper, He made us, and not we ourselves. 
 Press on where truth begins to dawn. Suppose, now, the 
 voice of a body begins to sound, and does sound, and 
 sounds on, and list, it ceases; it is silence now, and that 
 voice is past, and is no more a voice. Before it sounded, 
 it was to come, and could not be measured, because as 
 yet it was not, and now it cannot, because it is no longer. 
 Then therefore while it sounded, it might ; because there 
 then was what might be measured. But yet even then it 
 was not at a stay ; for it was passing on, and passing 
 away. Could it be measured the rather, for that 1 For 
 -while passing, it was being extended into some space of 
 time, so that it might be measured, since the present hath 
 no space. Af therefore then it might, then,"Io7"si^ose 
 another voice hath begun to sound, and still soundeth in 
 one continued tenor without any interruption ; let us 
 measure it while it sounds ; seeing when it hath left 
 sounding, it will then be past, and nothing left to be 
 measured ; let us. measure it verily, and tell how much it 
 is. But it sounds still, nor can it be measured but from 
 the instant it began in, unto the end it left in. For the 
 very space between is the thing we measure, namely, 
 from some beginning unto some end. Wherefore, a voice 
 that is not yet ended, cannot be measured, so that it inay 
 be said how long, or short it is ^ nor can it be called 
 equal to another, or double to a single, or the like. But 
 when ended, it no longer is. How may it then be measur- 
 ed ? And yet we measure times ; but yet neither those 
 which are not yetj nor those which no longer are, nor 
 those which are not lengthened out by some pause, nor 
 those which have no bounds. We measure neither times 
 to come, nor past, nor present, nor passing ; and yet we 
 do measure times. j 
 
 35. " Deus Creator omnium," this verse of eight sylla- 
 bles alternates between short and long syllables. The 
 four short then, the first, third, fifth, and seventh, are but 
 single, in respect of the four long, the second, fourth, 
 sixth, and eighth. Every one of these, to every one of 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 225 
 
 those, hath a double time : I pronounce thetn, report on 
 them, and find it so, as one's plain sense perceives. By 
 plain sense, then, I measure a long syllable by a short, 
 and I sensibly find it to have twice so much ; but when 
 one sounds after the other,- if the former be short, the lat- 
 te<*long, how shall I detain the short one, and how, 
 measuring, shall I apply it to the long, that I may find 
 "this to have twice so much ; seeing the long does not be- 
 gin to sound, unless the short leaves sounding? And that 
 very long one do I measure at present, seeing I measure it 
 not till it be ended? Now his ending is his passing away. 
 What then is it I measure ? where is the short syllable by 
 which I measure? where the long which I measure? 
 Both have sounded, have flown, passed away, are no more ; 
 and yet I measure, and confidently answer, (so far as 
 is presumed on a practised sense,) that as to space of 
 time this syllable is but single, that double. And yet I 
 could not do this, unless they were already past and end- 
 ed. It is not then themselves, which now are not, that I 
 measure, but something in my memory, which there re- 
 mains fixed. 
 
 36. It is in thee, my mind, that I measure times. In- 
 terrupt me "not7 that'ls^ intefFupr not tKyself with the 
 tumults of thy impressions. In thee I measure times ; 
 the impression, which things as they pass by cause in 
 thee^remaihsTeven when 'they afeT go5e f tlifs if is which 
 sttlT 'prestint, I measure, not the tilings which pass by to 
 make this impression. This I measure, when I measure 
 times. Either then this is time, or 1 do not measure 
 times. What when we measure silence, and say that this 
 silence hath held as long time as did that voice ? do we 
 not stretch out our thought to the measure of a voice, as 
 if it sounded ; that so we may be able to report of the 
 intervals of silence in a given space of time ? For though 
 both voice and tongue be still, yet in thought we go over 
 poems, and verses, and any other discourse, or dimensions 
 of motions, and report as to the spaces of times, how 
 much this is in respect of that, no otherwise than if vo- 
 cally we did pronounce them. If a man would utter a 
 lengthened sound, and had settled in thought how long it 
 should be, be hath in silence already gone trough a 
 19 
 
226 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 space of time, and cotiimitting it to memory, begins to 
 utter that speech, which sounds on, until it be brought 
 unto the end proposed. Yea it hath sounded, and will 
 sound ; for so much of it as is finished, hath sounded 
 already, and the rest will sound. And thuspasseth itouj 
 until the present intent conveys over the future into'ihe 
 past ; the past increasing by the diminution of the future, 
 until by the consumption of the future, alj is past. * 
 
 [XXVllL] 37. But how is that future diminished or 
 consumed, which as yet is not 1 or how that past increas- 
 ed, which is now no longer, save that in the mind which 
 enacteth this, there be three things done ? For it ex- 
 pects, it considers, it. remembers ; that so that which it 
 expecteth, through that which it considereth, passeth into 
 that which it remembereth. Who therefore denieth, that 
 things to come are not as yet ? and yet, there is in the 
 mind an expectation of things to come. And who denies 
 past things to be now no longer 1 and yet is there still in 
 the mind a memory of things past. And who denieth 
 that the present time hatp no space, because it passeth 
 away in a moment ? and yet our consideration continueth, 
 through which that which shall be present proceedeth to 
 become absent. It is not then future time, that is long, 
 for as yet it is not : but a " long future," is " a long ex- 
 pectation of the future," nor is it time past, which now is 
 not, that is long; but a long past, is " a long memory of 
 the past." 
 
 33. I am about to repeat a Psalm that I know. Before 
 I begin, my expectation is extended over the whole ; but 
 when I have begun, how much soever of it I shall sepa- 
 rate off into the past, is extended along my memory ; thus 
 the life of this action of mine is divided between my 
 memory as to what I have repeated, and expectation as to 
 what I am about to repeat; but "consideration" is pres- 
 ent with me, that through it what was future, may be 
 conveyed over, so as to become past. Which the more it 
 is done again and again, so much the more the expecta- 
 tion being shortened, is the memory enlarged ; till the 
 whole expectation be at length exhausted, when that 
 whole action beijig ended, shall have passed into memory, 
 j^nd this which ts^es .place in .t,he whole Psalm, the same 
 
ST. AUGtJSTINE. 227 
 
 takes place in each several portion of it, and each several 
 syllable ; the same holds in that longer action, whereof 
 this Psalm may be a part ; the same holds in the whole life 
 of man, whereof all the actions of man are parts ; the same 
 holds through the whole age of the sons of men, whereof 
 all the lives of men are parts. 
 
 [XXIX.] 39. But because Thy loving kindness is bet- 
 ter than all lives, behold, my life is but a distraction, and 
 Thy right hand upheld me, in my Lord the Son of Man, 
 the Mediator hetivixf Thee, The One, and us many; 
 many also through our manifold distractions amid many 
 things, that by Him I may apprehend in If horn I have 
 been apprehended, and may be re-coUccted from my old 
 conversation, to follow The Orie, forgetting what is be- < 
 hind, and not distended but extended, not to things which 
 shall be and shall pass away, but to those tilings which are 
 before, not distractedly but intently, I follow on for the 
 prize of my heavenly calling, where I may hear the voice 
 of Thy praise, and contemplate Thy delights, ever com- 
 ing, never passing away. But now are my years spent in 
 mourning. And Thou, O Lord, art my comfort, my 
 Father everlasting, but I have been severed amid times, 
 whose order I know not; and my thoughts, even the in- 
 most bowels of my soul, are rent and mangled with tumulr 
 tuous varieties, until I flow together into Thee, purified 
 and molten by the fire of Thy love. 
 
 [XXX.] 40. And now will I stand, and become firm 
 in Thee, in my mould. Thy truth ; nor will I endure the 
 questions of men, who by a penal disease thirst for more 
 than they can contain, and say, " what did God before 
 He made heaven and earth 7" " Or, how came it into 
 His mind to make any thing, having never before made 
 any thing?" Give them, O Lord, to bethink themselves 
 what they say, and to find, that "never" cannot be predi- 
 cated, when " time" is not. This then that He is said 
 "never to have made;" what else is it to say, than " in 
 ' no time' to have made ?" Let them see, therefore, that 
 time cannot be without created being, and cease to speak 
 that vanity. May they also be extended towards those 
 things which are before; and understand Thee before all 
 times, the eternal Creator of all times, and that no times 
 
^38 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 be coeternal with Thee, nor any creature, even if there 
 be any creature before all times. 
 
 [XXXI.] 41. O Lord my God, what a depth is that 
 recess of Thy mysteries, and how far from it have the 
 consequences of my transgressions cast me ! Heal mine 
 eyes that I may share the joy of Thy light. Certainly, if 
 there be a mind gifted with such vast knowledge and 
 foreknowledge, as to know all things past and to come, as 
 I know one well-known Psalm, truly that mind is passing 
 wonderful, and fearfully amazing ; in that nothing past, 
 nothing to come in after ages, is any more hidden from 
 him, than when I sung that Psalm, was hidden from me 
 what, and how much of it had passed away from the be- 
 , ginning, what, and how much there remained unto the 
 end. But far be it that Thou the Creator of the Universe, 
 the Creator of souls and bodies, far be it, that Thou 
 shouldest in such wise know all things past and to come. 
 Far, far more wonderfully, and far more mysteriously, dost 
 thou know them. For not, as the feelings of one who 
 singeth what he knoweth, or heareth some well-known 
 song, through expectation of the words to come, and the 
 remembering of those that are past, are varied, and his 
 senses divided, — not so doth anything happen unto Thee, 
 unchangeably eternal, that is, the eternal creator of 
 minds. Like then as Thou in the Beginning knewest the 
 heaven and the earth, without any variety of Thy knowl- 
 edge, so madest Thou in the Beginning heaven and earth, 
 without any distraction of Thy action. Whoso under- 
 standeth let him confess unto Thee ; and whoso under- 
 standeth not, let him confess unto Thee. Oh how high 
 art Thou, and yet the bumble in heart are Thy dwelling- 
 place ; for Thou raisest up those that are bowed doivn, and 
 they fall not, whose elevation Thou art. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 229 
 
 THE TWELFTH BOOK. 
 
 Augustino proceeds to corument on Gen. 1, 1, and explaina the " heaven*' to mean 
 that spiritual and incorporeal creation, which cleaves tu God unintormittingly, 
 always beholding His conntonance ; "earth,*' tho formless matter whereof the 
 - corporeal creation was afterwards formed. He does not wject, however, otJier 
 . ^terpretatations, which he adduces, but rather. oonfesseB that such is the 
 depth of Holy Scripture, that manifold senses may and ought to he extracted 
 from it, and that whatever truth can be obtained from i(e words, does, in fact, 
 lie concealed in them. 
 
 [I.] 1. My heart, O Lord, touchejl with the words of Thy 
 holy Scripture, is much busied, amid this poverty of my . 
 life. And therefore most-times, is the poverty of hU' 
 man understanding copious in words, because inquiring 
 hath more to say than discovering, and demanding is 
 longer than obtaining, and our hand that knocks, hath 
 more work to do, than our hand that receives. We hold 
 the promise, who shall make it null ? If God be for us, 
 who can be against us ? Ask and ye shall have ; seek and 
 ye shall find ; Imock, and it shall be opened unto you. For 
 every one that asketh receiveth ; and he that seeketh, find- 
 eth ; and to Mm that knocketh, shall it be opened. These 
 be Thine own promises : and who need fear to be deceiv- 
 ed, when the Truth promiseth. 
 
 [IL] 2. The lowliness of my tongue confesseth unto 
 Thy .Highness, that Thou modest heaven and earth ; this 
 heaven which I see-, and this earth that I tread upoji, 
 whence is this earth that I bear about me; Thou madest 
 it. But where is that heaven of heavens, O Lord, which 
 we hear of in the words of the Psalm, The heaven of heav- 
 ens are the Lord's ; but the earth hath He given to the 
 children of men ? Where is that heaven which we see 
 not, to which all this which we see is earth ? For this 
 corporeal whole, not. being wholly every where, hath in 
 such wise received" its portion of beauty in these lower 
 parts, whereof the lowest is this our earth ; but t6 that 
 heaven of heavens, even the heaven of our earth, is bat 
 earth : yea both these great bodies, may not absurdly be 
 called earth, ta that unknown, heaven, whichistihe,-ii6rd'fS, 
 not the sons'' of men. 19* 
 
230 coNrEseiONs or 
 
 [III.] 3. And now this earth was invisible and mthoui 
 form, and there was I know not what depth of abyss^ up- 
 on which there was no light, because it had no shape. 
 Therefore didst Thou command it to be written, that 
 darkness was upon the face of the deep ; what else than 
 the absence of light? For had there been light, where 
 should it have been but by being over all, aloft, and en- 
 lightening'? Where then light was not, what was the 
 presence of darkness, but the absence of light ? Dark- 
 ness therefore was upon it, because light was not upon it ; 
 as where sound is not, there is silence. And what is it 
 to have silence there, but to have no sound there 1 Hast 
 not Thou, O Lord, taught this soul, which confesseth un- 
 to Thee? Hast not Thou taught me, Lord, that before 
 Thou didst form and diversify this formless matter, 
 there was nothing ; neither color, nor figure, nor body, 
 nor spirit ? and yet not altogether nothing ; for there was 
 a certain formlessness, without any beauty. 
 
 [IV.] 4. How then should it be called, that it might be 
 in some measure conveyed to those of duller mind, but 
 by some ordinary word 1 And what, among all parts of 
 the world can be found nearer to an absolute formlessness, 
 than earth and deep 1 For, occupying the lowest stage, 
 they are less beautiful than the other higher parts are, 
 transparent all and shining. Wherefore then may I not 
 conceive the formlessness of matter (which Thou hadst 
 created without beauty, whereof to make this beautiful 
 world) to be suitably intimated unto men, by the name 
 of earth invisible and without form. 
 
 [v.] 5. So that when thought seeketh what the sense 
 may conceive under this, and saith to itself, " It is no in- 
 intellectual form, as life, or justice ; because it is the mat- 
 ter of bodies ; nor object of sense, because being invisi- 
 ble, and without form, there was in it no object of sight 
 or sense ;" — while man's thought thus saith to itself, it 
 may endeavor either to know it, by being ignorant of it ; 
 or to be ignorant, by knowing it. 
 
 [VI.] 6. But I, Lord, if I would, by my tongue and 
 my pen, confess unto Thee the whole, whatever Thyself 
 hath taught me of that matter, — the name whereof hear- 
 ing before, and not understanding, when they who under- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 231/ 
 
 stood it not, told me of it, so I conceived of it, as having 
 innumerable forms and diverse, and therefore did not 
 conceive it at all, my mind tossed up and down foul and 
 horrible " forms" out of all order, but yet " forms;" and 
 I called it without form not that it. wanted all form, but 
 because it had such as my mind would, if presented to it, 
 turn from, as unwonted and jarring, and human frailness 
 would be troubled at. And still that which I conceived, 
 was iBithout form, not as being deprived of all form, but 
 in comparison of more beautiful forms ; and true reason 
 did persuade me, that I must Utterly uncase it of all 
 remnants of form whatsoever, if I would conceive matter 
 absolutely without form ; and I could not ; for sooner 
 could I imagine that, which should be deprived of all 
 form, not to be, than conceive a thing betwixt form and 
 nothing, neither formed, nor nothing, a formless almost 
 nothing. So my mind gave over to question thereupon 
 with my spirit, it being filled with the images of formed 
 bodies, and changing and varying them, as it willed ; and 
 I bent myself to the bodies themselves, and looked, more 
 deeply into their changeableness, by which they cease to 
 be what they have been, and begin to be what they were 
 not ; and this same shifting from form to form, I suspect- 
 ed to be through a certain formless State, not through a 
 mere nothing; yet this I longed to know, not to suspect 
 only. But if my voice and pen confessed unto Thee the 
 whole, whatsoever knots Thou didst open for me in this 
 question, what reader would hold out to take in the 
 whole? But my heart shall not cease to give Thee 
 honor, and a song of praise, for those things which it 
 is not able to express. The changeableness of changea- 
 ble things, is itself capable of all those forms, into which 
 these changeable things are changed. But this changea- 
 bleness, what is it ? Is it soul 1 Is it body ? Is it that 
 which constituteth soul or body? One might say, "a 
 nothing something," an " is, is not," I would say, this 
 were it : and yet in some way was it even then, as being 
 capable of receiving these visible and compound figures. 
 
 [VII.] 7. But whence had it this degree of being, but 
 from Thee, from Whom are all things, so far forth as 
 they are ? But so much the further from Thee, as the 
 
232 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 unliker Thee ; for it is not farness of place. Thou, 
 therefore, Lord, Who art not one in one place, and other- 
 wise in another, but the Self-same, and the Self-same, and 
 the Self-same, Holy, Holy,, Holy, Lord God Almighty, 
 didst in the Beginning, which is of Thee, in Thy Wis- 
 dom, which was born of Thine own Substance, create 
 something, and that out of nothing. For Thou createdst 
 heaven and earth ; not out of Thyself ; for so should they 
 have been equal to Thine Only Begotten Son, and there- 
 by to Thee also ; whereas no way were it right that aught 
 should be equal to Thee, which was not of Thee. And 
 aught else beside Thee was there not, whereof Thou 
 mightest cteate them, O God, One Trinity, and Trine 
 Unity ; and therefore out of nothing didst Thou create 
 heaven and earth; a great thing, and a small thing; for 
 Thou art Almighty and Good, to make all things good, 
 even the great heaven, and the petty earth. Thou wert, 
 and nothing was there besides, out of which Thou 
 createdst heaven and earth ; things of two sorts ; one near 
 Thee, the other near to nothing; one, to which Thou 
 alone shouldest be superior ; the other, to which nothing 
 should be inferior. 
 
 [VIII.] 8. But that heaven of heavens was for Thyself, 
 O Lord; and the earth which Thou gavest to the sons of 
 men, to be seen and felt, was not such as we now see and 
 feel. For it was invisible, without form, and there was 
 a deep, upon which there was no light ; or, darkness was 
 above the deep, that is, more than in the deep. Because 
 this deep of waters, visible now, hath even in its depths a 
 light proper for its nature ; perceivable in some degree 
 unto the fishes, and creeping things in the bottom of it. 
 But that whole deep was almost nothing, because hitherto 
 it was altogether without form; yet there was already that 
 which could be formed. For Thou, Lord, madest the 
 world of a matter toithout form, which out of nothing. 
 Thou madest next to nothing, thereof to make those great 
 things which we sons of men wonder at. For very won- 
 derful is this corporeal heaven ; the firmament between 
 water and water, of which the second day, after the crea- 
 tion of light, Thou saidst, Let it be made, and it was made. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 333 
 
 Which ^firmament T]wu calledst heaven ; the heaven, that 
 is, to this earth and sea, which Thou madest the third 
 day, by giving a visible figure to the formless matter which 
 Thou madest before all days. For already hadst Thou 
 made both an heaven before all days, but that was the 
 heaven of this heaven ; because In the beginning Thou 
 hadst »«««?« heaven and earth. But this same earth which 
 Thou madest, was formless matter, because it was invisi- 
 ble and without form, and darkness was upon the deep, of 
 which invisible earth and without form, of which formless- 
 ness, of which almost nothing. Thou mightest make all 
 these things of which this changeable world consists, but 
 subsists not ; whose very changeableness appears therein, 
 that times can be observed and numbered in it. For times 
 are made by the alterations of things, while the figures, 
 the matter whereof is the invisible earth aforesaid, are 
 varied and turned. 
 
 [IX.] 9. And therefore the Spirit, the Teacher of Thy 
 servant, when it recounts Thee to have In the Beginning 
 treated heaven and earth, speaks nothing of times, noth- 
 ing of days. For verily that heaven of heavens which 
 Thou createdst in the Beginning, is some intellectual crea- 
 ture, which, although no ways coeternal unto Thee, the 
 Trinity, yet partaketh of Thy eternity, and doth through 
 the sweetness of that most happy contemplation of Thy- 
 self, strongly restrain its own changeableness ; and without 
 any fall since its first creation, cleaving close unto Thee, 
 is placed beyond all the rolling vicissitudes of times. Yea, 
 neither is this very formlessness of the earth invisible, and 
 without form, numbered among the days. For where no 
 figure nor order is, there does nothing come, or go; and 
 where this is not, there plainly are no days, nor any vicis- 
 situde of spaces of times. 
 
 [X.] 10. O let the Light, the Truth, the Light of my 
 heart, not mine own darkness, speak unto me. I fell off 
 into that, and became darkened ; but even, thence, even 
 thence I loved Thee. I went astray, and remembered 
 Thee. L heard Thy voice behind me, calling to me to 
 return, and scarcely heard it, through the tumultuousness 
 of the enemies of peace. And now, behold; I return in 
 distress, and'panting after Thy fountain. Let no man for- 
 
234 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 bid me ! of this will I drink, and so live. Let me not be 
 my own life ; from myself I lived ill ; death was I to my- 
 self, and I revive in Thee. Do Thou speak unto me, do 
 Thou discourse unto me. I have believed Thy Books, 
 and their words be most full of mystery. 
 
 [XL] H . Already Thou hast told me with a strong voice, 
 O Lord, in mine inner ear, that Thou art eternal. Who 
 only hast immortality : since Thou canst not be changed 
 as to figUre or motion, nor is Thy will altered by times : 
 seeing no will which varies is immortal. This is in Thy 
 sight clear to me, and let it be more and more clear to 
 me, I beseech Thee ; and in the manifestation thereof, let 
 me with sobriety abide under Thy wings. Thou hast told 
 me also with a strong voice, O Lord, in my inner ear, that 
 Thou hast made all natures and substances, which are not 
 what Thyself is, and yet are ; and that only is not from 
 Thee, which is not, and the motion of the will from Thee 
 who Art, unto that which in a less degree is, because such 
 motion is transgression and sin ; and that no man's sin 
 doth either hurt Thee, or disturb the order of Thy gov- 
 ernment, first or last. This is in Thy sight clear unto 
 me, and let it be more and more cleared to me, I beseech 
 Thee ; and in the manifestation thereof, let me with so- 
 briety abide under Thy wings. 
 
 12. Thou hast told me also With a strong voice, in my 
 inner ear, that neither is that creature coelernal unto 
 Thyself, whose happiness Thou only art, though with a 
 most persevering purity, drawing its nourishment from 
 Thee, it should never put forth its natural mutability ; 
 and, although Thyself being ever present with it, it should 
 with its whole affection keep itself to Thee, having nei- 
 ther future to expect, nor conveying into the past what it 
 remembereth, it were not altered by any change,_nor dis- 
 tracted into any times. O blessed creature, if such there 
 be, cleaving unto Thy Blessedness ; blessed in Thee, its 
 eternal Inhabitant and its Enlightener ! I find no better 
 name to call the heaven of heavens, which is the Lord's, 
 than Thine house, one pure mind, most harmoniously one, 
 in a settled peace of holy spirits, citizens bf Thy city in 
 heavenly places ; far above those heavenly places that we 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE . 235 
 
 13. The soul, whose- pilgrimage is made long and far 
 away, by this may understand, if she now iAirsis /or Thee, 
 if her tears be now hecpme her bread, tohile they daily say 
 unto her. Where is thy God? if she now seeks of Thee 
 one thing, and desireth it, that she may dwell in Thy 
 house all the days of her life; (and what is her life, but 
 Thou 1 and what Thy days but Thy eternity, for Thy 
 years fail not, because Thou art ever the same 7) by this 
 then may the soul that is able understand how far Thou 
 art, above all time, eternal ; seeing Thy house, which at 
 no time went into a far country, although it be not coeter- 
 nal with Thee, yet by continually and unfailingly cleaving 
 unto Thee, suffers no changeableness of times. This is 
 in Thy sight clear unto me, and let it be more and more 
 cleared unto me, I beseech Thee, and in the manifesta- 
 tion thereof, let me with sobriety abide under Thy wings. 
 
 14. There is, behold, I know not what formlessness in 
 the changes of the last and lowest creatures : and who 
 shall tell me, (unless one who, through the emptiness of 
 his own heart, wanders and tosses himself up and down 
 amid his own fancies,) who but such a one would tell me, 
 that if all figure be so wasted and consumed away, that 
 there should only remain formlessness, through which the 
 thing was changed and turned from one figure to another, 
 it could exhibit the vicissitudes of times? Plainly it 
 could not, because, without variety of motions, there are 
 no times : and no variety, where there is no figure. 
 
 [XII.] 15. These things considered, as Thou givest, 
 O my God, as Thou stirrest me up to knock, and as Thou 
 openest to me, knocking, I find that Thou hast made two 
 things, not within the compass of time, neither of which 
 is coeternal with Thee. One is so formed, that, without 
 any ceasing of contemplation, without any interval of 
 chauge, changeable, yet not changed, it may thoroughly 
 enjoy Thy eternity and unchangeableness ; the other, so 
 formless, that it had not that which could be changed from 
 one form into another, whether of motion, or of repose, 
 so as to become subject unto time. But this Thou didst 
 not leave thus formless, because before all days. Thou 
 in the Beginning didst crepte Heaven and Earth ; the two 
 things that I spake of. But the Earth was invisible, and 
 
236 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 without form, and darkness was upon the deep. In which 
 words is the formlessness conveyed unto us, (who are not 
 able to conceive an utter privation of all form, without 
 yet coming to nothing,) and out of this another Heaven 
 was created, together with a visible and well-forraed earth : 
 and the waters diversely ordered, and all that in the forma- 
 tion of the world is recorded to have been created in days ; 
 it being of such nature, that the successive changes of 
 times may take place in them, as being subject to ap- 
 pointed alterations of motions and of forms. 
 
 [XIII.] 16. This then is what I conceive, O my God, 
 when I'hear Thy Scripture saying. In the beginning God 
 made Heaven and Earth : and the earth was invisible and 
 without form, and darkness was upon the deep, and not 
 mentioning what day Thou createdst them ; this is what 
 I conceive : because of the Heaven of heavens — that in- 
 tellectual Heaven, whose intelligent inhabitants know all 
 at once, not in part, not darkly, not through a glass, but 
 as a whole, in manifestation, face to face ; not, this thing 
 now, and that thing anon ; but all at once, without any 
 succession of times; and because of the earth invisible 
 and without form, without any succession of times, which 
 succession presents "this thing now, that thing anon;" 
 because where is no form, there is no distinction of things : 
 it is, then, on account of these two, a primitive formed, 
 and a primitive formless ; the one, heaven, but the Heaven 
 of heaven, the other earth, but the earth invisible and with- 
 out fwm ; because there were these two, did Thy Scrip- 
 ture say, without mention of days. In the Beginning God 
 created Heaven and Earth. For forthwith it subjoined 
 what earth it spake of; and, moreover, as the Firmament 
 is recorded to be created the second day, and called 
 Heaven, it conveys to us of which Heaven He before 
 spake, without mention of days. 
 
 [XIV.] 17. Wondrous depth of Thy words! whose 
 surface, behold ! is before us, inviting to the humble ; yet 
 are they a wondrous depth, O my God, a wondrous depth ! 
 It is awful to look therein ; an awfulness of honor, and a 
 trembling of love. The enemies thereof I hate vehe- 
 raently ; O that Thou wouldest slay them with Tfty two- 
 edged sword, that they mig^t noJonger be enemies unto 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 237 
 
 it : for so do I love to have them slain unto themselves, 
 that they may live unto Thee. But behold others, not 
 fault-finders, but extollers of the book of Genesis : " The 
 Spirit of God," say they, " Who by His servant Moses 
 wrote these things, would not have those words thus un- 
 derstood ; He would not have it understood, as Thou say- 
 est, but otherwise, as we say." Unto Whom Thyself, 
 Thou God of us all, being Judge, do I thus answer. 
 
 [XV.] 18. " Will you affirm that to be false, which with 
 a strong voice Truth tells me in my inner ear, concerning 
 the Eternity of the Creator, that His substance is no ways 
 changed by time, nor His will separate from His sub- 
 stance t Wherefore He willeth not one thing now, another 
 anon, but once, and at once, and always, He willeth all 
 things that He willeth ; not again and again, nor now this, 
 now that ; nor willeth afterwards, what before He willed 
 not, nor willeth not, what before He willed ; because such 
 a will is mutable ; and no mutable thing is eternal : but 
 our God is eternal. Again, the expectation of things to 
 come becomes sight, when they are come, and this same 
 sight becomes memory, when they be past. Now all 
 thought which thus varies is mutable ; and no thing muta- 
 ble is eternal : but our God is eternal." These things I 
 infer, and put together, and find that my God, the eternal , 
 God, hath not upon any new will made any creature, nor 
 doth His knowledge admit of any thing transitory. 
 " What will ye say. then, O ye gainsayers 1 Are these 
 things false?" "No," they say; "What then? Is it 
 false, that every nature already formed, or matter capable 
 of form, is only from Him Who is supremely good, be- 
 cause he exists supremely ?" "-Neither do we deny this," 
 say they. " What then? do you deny that there is a cer- 
 tain sublime creature, with so chaste a love cleaving unto 
 the true and truly eternal God, that, although not coeter- 
 nal with Him, yet it is not detached from Him, nor dis- 
 solved into the variety and vicissitude of times, but re- 
 poseth in the most true contemplation of Him only ?" Be- 
 cause Thou, O God, unto him that loveth Thee as Thou 
 commandest, dost shew Thyself, and sufficest him : there- 
 fore doth-he not decline from Thee, nor toward himself. 
 This is the house of God, not of earthly mould, nor of 
 20 
 
338 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 any celestial bulk corporeal, but spiritual, and partaker 
 of Thy eternity, because without defection for ever. For 
 Thou hast made it fast for ever and ever. Thou hast given 
 it a law which it shall not pass. Nor yet is it coeternal 
 with Thee, O God, because not without beginning : for it 
 was made. 
 
 20. Wisdom was created before all things ; not that 
 Wisdom which is altogether equal and coeternal unto 
 Thee, our Gtod, His Father, and by Whom all things were 
 created, and in Whom, as the 'Beginning, Thou createdst 
 heaven and earth ; but that wisdom which is created, that 
 is, the intellectual nature, which, by contemplating the 
 light, is light. For this, though created, is also called wis- 
 dom. But such diflFerence as is betwixt the Light which 
 enlighteneth, and which is enlightened, so much is there 
 betwixt the Wisdom that createth, and that created ; be- 
 twixt the Righteousness which justifieth, and the right- 
 eousness which is made by justification. For we also are 
 called Thy righteousness: as saith a certain servant of 
 Thine, That ive might he made the righteousness of God 
 in Him. Therefore, since a certain created wisdom was 
 created before all things, the rational and intellectual 
 mind of that chaste city of Thine, our mother which is 
 above, and is free and ettrnal in the heavens ; (in what 
 heavens, if not in those that praise Thee, the Heaven of 
 he.avens 7 Because this is also the Heaven tf heavens for 
 the Lord ;) though we find no time before it, (because 
 that which hath been created before all things, precedeth 
 also the creature of time,) yet is the eternity of the Cre- 
 ator Himself before it, from Whom, being created, it took 
 the beginning, not indeed' of time, (for time itself was not 
 yet,) but of its creation. 
 
 21. Hence created wisdom is altogether other than 
 Thou, and not the Self-same ; because though we find 
 time neither before it, nor even in it, (it teing meet ever to 
 l)ehold Thy face, nor ever drawn away from it, wherefore 
 it is not varied by any change,) yet is there in it a liabil- 
 ity to change, whence it would wax dark, and chill, but 
 that, by a strong affection cleaving unto Thee, like per- 
 petual noon, it shineth and gloweth from Thee. O house 
 most lightsome and delightsome ! / have loved thy 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 2JJ9 
 
 beauty, and the place of the habitation of the glory of my 
 Lord, thy builder and possessor. Let my wayfaring sign 
 after Thee ; and I say to Him that made thee, let Ilim 
 take possession of me also in thee, seeing He hath made 
 me likewise. I have gone astray like a lost sheep ; yet 
 upon the slumlders of my Shepherd, thy builder, I hope, 
 to be brought back to thee, 
 
 22. " What say ye to me, O ye gainsayers that I was 
 speaking unto, wljo, yet believe Moses to have been the 
 .holy servant of God, and his books the oracles of the 
 Holy Ghost \ Is not this house of God, not coeternal in- 
 deed with God, yet after its measure, eternal in tlie heavens, 
 where you seek for changes of times in vain, because you 
 will not find them 1 For that, to which it is ever good to 
 cleave fast tofifnd, surpasses all extension, and all revolv- 
 ing periods of time." "It is," say they. " What, then, 
 of all that which my heart loudly uttered unto my God, 
 when inwardly it heard the voice of His praise, what part 
 thereof do ypu affirm to be false? Is it that the matter 
 was withoid form,, in which because there was no form, 
 there was no order ? But where no ord.er was, there could 
 be no vicissitude of times : and yet this ' almost nothing,' 
 inasmuch, as it was not altogether nothing, was from Him 
 certajnjy, from Whom is whatsoever is, in what degree 
 goever it is," " This ajso," say they, " do we not deny." 
 
 [XVI.] 23, With these would I now parley a little in 
 Thy preseece, O my God, who. grant all these things to 
 be true, which Thy Truth whispers unto my soul. . For 
 those who deny these things, let them bark and deafen 
 themsejveg as much as they please ; I will essay to per- 
 suade them to quiet, and to open in them a way for Thy 
 woj-d. But if they refuse, and repel me, I beseech, O my 
 Crod, be not Thou silent to me. Speak Thou truly in my 
 heart; for only Thou so speakest : and I will let them 
 alone blowing upon the dust vfithout, and raising it up into 
 their own eyes; and myg.elf will enter my chamber, and 
 sing there a song of loves unto Thee ; groaning with < 
 groanings unutterable, in my wayfaring, and remembering 
 Jerusalem, with heart lifted up towards it, Jerusalem my 
 country, Jerusalem my mqther, and. Thyself that rule^t 
 over it, the Enljghtener, Father, Guardian, Husband, the 
 
240 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 pure and strong delight, and solid joy, and all good things 
 unspeakable, yea, all at once, because the One Sovereign 
 and true Good. Nor will I be turned away, until Thod 
 gather all that I am, from this dispersed and this disor- 
 dered estate, into the peace of that our most dear mother, 
 where are \he first-fruits of my spirit already, (whence I 
 am ascertained of these things,) and Thou conform and 
 confirm it for ever, O my God, my Mercy. But those 
 who do not deny all these truths, who honor Thy holy 
 Scripture, set forth by holy Moses, placing it on the sum- 
 mit of authority to be followed, and do yet contradict me 
 in some things, I answer thus : Be Thyself Judge, O our. 
 God, between my Confessions and these men's contradic- 
 tions. 
 
 [XVII.] 24. For they say "Though these things be 
 true, yet did not Moses intend those two, when, by reve- 
 lation of the Spirit, he saith. In the beginning God creat- 
 ed heaven and earth. He did not under the name of 
 heaven, signify that spiritual or intellectual creature 
 which always beholds the face of God ; nor under the 
 name of earth, that formless matter. " What then V 
 " That man of God," say they, " meant as we say; this 
 declared he by those words." " What V " By the name 
 of heaven and earth would he first signify," say they, 
 "universally and compendiously, all this visible world; 
 and afterwards, by the enumeration of the several days, 
 arrange in detail, and, as it were, piece by piece, all those 
 things, which it pleased the Holy Ghost thus to enounce. 
 For such were that rude and carnal people to which he 
 spake, that he thought them fit to be entrusted with the 
 knowledge of such works of God only as were visible." 
 They agree, however, that under the words, earth invisi- 
 ble and without form, and that darksome deep, (out of 
 which it is subsequently shewn that all these visible things 
 which we all know, were made and arranged during 
 those "days") may, not incongruously, be understood, 
 this formless (first) matter. 
 
 3.5. What now if another should say, " That this same 
 formlessness and confusedness of matter, was first con- 
 veyed under the name of heaven and earth, because out 
 of it was this visible world with all those natures which 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 241 
 
 most manifestly appear in it, which is oftentimes called by 
 the name of heaven and earth, created and perfected ?" 
 What again if another say, " that invisible and visible 
 nature is not indeed inappropriately called heaven and 
 earth : and so, the universal creation, which God made in 
 His Wisdom, that is, in the Beginning, was comprehend- 
 ed under those two words 1 Notwithstanding, since all 
 things be made not of the substance of God, but out of 
 nothing, (because they are not the same that God is, and 
 there is a mutable nature in them all, whether they abide, 
 as doth the eternal house of God,, or be changed, as the 
 soul and body of man are :) therefore the common matter 
 of all things visible and invisible, (as yet unformed though 
 capable of form,) out of which was to be created both 
 heaven and earth, (i. e. the invisible and visible creature 
 when formed,) was entitled by the same names given to 
 the earth invisible and without form and the darkness upon 
 the deep, but with this distinction, that by the earth in- 
 visible and without form is understood corporeal matter, 
 antecedent to its being qualified by any form ; and by the 
 darkness upon the deep, spiritual matter, before it under- 
 went any restraint of its unlimited fluidness, or received 
 any light from Wisdom ?" 
 
 26. It yet remains for a man to say, if he will, "that 
 the already perfected and formed natures, visible and in- 
 visible, are not signified under the name of heaven and 
 earth, when we read. In the beginning God made heaven 
 and earth, but that the yet unformed commencement of 
 things, the stuff apt to receive form and making, was 
 called by these names, because therein were confusedly 
 contained, not as yet distinguished by their qualities and 
 forms, all those things which being now digested into 
 order, are called Heaven and Earth, the one being the 
 spiritual, the other the corporeal, creation. ' 
 
 [XVIII.] 27. All which things being heard and well 
 considered, I will not strive about words : for that is 
 profitable to. nothing, but the subversion of the hearers. 
 But the law is good to edify, if a man use it lawfully : 
 because the end of it is charity, out of a pure heart and 
 good conscience, and fqiih unfeigned. And well did our 
 Master know, upon which two commandments He hung all 
 20* 
 
242 CONFESSIONS or 
 
 the Law and the Prophets. And what doth it prejudice 
 me, O my God, Thou light of my eyes in secret, zeal- 
 ously confessing these things, since divers things may be 
 understood under these words which yet are all true, — 
 what, I say, doth it prejudice me, if 1 think otherwise 
 than another thinketh the writer thought 1 All we read- 
 ers verily strive to' trace out and to understand his mean- 
 ing ; and seeing we believe him to speak truly, we dare 
 not imagine him to have said any thing, which we either 
 know or think to be false. While every man endeavors 
 then to understand in the holy Scriptures, the same as 
 the writer understood, what hurt is it, if a man under- 
 stand what Thou, the light of all true-speaking minds, 
 dost shev/ him to be true, although he whom he reads, 
 understood not this, seeing he also understood a Truth, 
 though not this truth 1 
 
 [XIX.] 28. For true it is, O Lord, that Thou madest 
 heaven and earth ; and it is true too, that the Beginning 
 is Thy Wisdom, in Which Thou createdst all: and true 
 again, that this visible world hath for its greater parts the 
 heaven and the earth, which briefly comprise all made 
 and created natures. And true too, that whatsoever is 
 mutable, gives us to understand a certain want of form, 
 whereby it receiveth a form, or is changed, or turned. It 
 is true, that that is subject to no times, which so cleaveth 
 to the unchangeable Form, as, though subject to change, 
 never to be changed. It is true, that that formlessness 
 which is almost nothing, cannot be subject to the altera- 
 tion of times. It is true, that that whereof a thing is 
 made, may by a certain mode of speech, be called by the 
 name of the thing made of it ; whence that formlessness, 
 whereof heaven and earth were made, might be called 
 heaven and earth. It is true, that of things having form, 
 there is not any nearer to having no form, than the earth 
 and the deep. It is true, that not only every created and 
 formed thing, but whatsoever is capable of being created 
 and formed, Thou madest, of whom are all things. It is 
 true, that whatsoever is formed out of that which had no 
 form, was unformed before it was formed. 
 
 [XX.] 29. Out of all these truths, of which they doubt 
 not whose inward eye Thou hast enabled to see such 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 243 
 
 things, and who unshakenly believe Thy servant Moses to 
 have spoken in the Spirit of truth ; one is taken by him, 
 who saith, In the Beginning God made the heaven and the 
 earth, that is, " in His word, coeternal with Himself, 
 God made the intelligible and the sensible, or the spiritual 
 and the corporeal creature ;" another by him, that saith. 
 In the Beginning God made heaven and earth ; that is, 
 " in His Word coeternal with Himself, did God make the 
 universal bulk of this corporeal world, together with all 
 those apparent and known creatures, which it containeth ;" 
 another by him, that saith. In the Beginning God made 
 lieaven and earth ; that is, " in His Word coeternal with 
 Himself, did God make the formless matter of creatures 
 spiritual-and corporeal ; another by him, that saith, In 
 the beginning God created Heaven and Earth; that is, 
 " in His Word coeternal with Himself, did God create the 
 formless matter of the creature corporeal, wherein heaven 
 and earth lay as yet confused, which, being now dis- 
 tinguished and formed, we at this day see in the bulk of 
 this world ;" another by him, who saith. In the Begin- 
 ning God made Heaven and Earth, that is, " in the very 
 beginning .of creating and working, did God make that 
 formless matter, confusedly containing in itself both heaven 
 and earth ; out of which, being formed, do they now stand 
 out, and are apparent, with all that is in them." 
 
 [XXI.] 30. And with regard to the understanding of 
 the words following, he who saith. But the earth was invis- 
 ible, and tBithout form, and darkness was upon 'the deep; 
 that is, " that corporeal thing that God made, was as yet a 
 formless matter of corporeal things, without order, without 
 light," chooses one of those truths. Another, he who says 
 The earth was invisible and without form, and darkness 
 was upon the deep ; that is, " this all, which is called heav- 
 en and earth, was still a formless and darksome matter, 
 of which the corporeal heaven and the corporeal earth 
 were to be made, with all things in them, which are known 
 to our corporeal senses." Another, he who says, The 
 earth was invisible and without form, and darkness was 
 upon the deep ; that is, " this all, which is called heaven 
 and earth, was still a formless and darksome matter ; out 
 of which was to be made, both that intelligible heaven, 
 
244 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 otherwhere called the Heaven of heavens, and the earth, 
 that is, the whole corporeal nature, under which name is 
 comprised this corporeal heaven also ; in a word, out of 
 which every visible and invisible creature was to be cre- 
 ated." Another, he who says, The earth was invisible 
 and without jorm, and darkness was upon the deep ; 
 " the Scripture did not call that formlessness^ by the 
 name of heaven and earth ; but that formlessness, saith 
 he, already was, which he called the earth invisible, 
 without form, and darkness upon the deep of which 
 he had before said, that God had made heaven and 
 earth, namely, the spiritual and corporeal creature." 
 Another, he who says, The earth loas invisible and with- 
 out form, and darkness was upon the deep ; that is, " there 
 already was a certain formless matter, of which the Scrip- 
 ture said before, that God made heaven and earth; name- 
 ly, the whole corporeal bulk of the world, divided into two 
 great parts, upper and lower, with all the common and 
 known creatures in them." 
 
 [XXII.] 31. For should any attempt to dispute against 
 these two last opinions, thus, " If you will not allow, that 
 this formlessness of matter seems to be called by the 
 name of heaven and earth ; Ergo, there was something 
 which God had not made, out of which to make heaven 
 and earth ; for neither hath Scripture told us, that God 
 made this matter, unless we understand it to be signified 
 by the name of heaven and earth, or of earth alone, 
 when it is said. In the Beginning God made the heaven 
 and earth; that so in what follows, aw«Z the earth was in- 
 visible and loithout form, (although it pleased Him so to 
 call the formless matter,) we are to understand no other 
 matter, but that which God made, whereof is written 
 above, God made heaven and earth." The maintainers 
 of either of those two latter opinions will, upon hearing 
 this, return for answer, " we do not deny this formless 
 matter to be indeed created by God, that God of Whom 
 are all things, very good ; for as we affirm that to be a 
 greater good, which is created and formed, so we confess 
 that to be a lesser good which is made capable of creation 
 and form, yet still good. We say however that Scripture 
 hath not set down, that God made this formlessness, as 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 245 
 
 also it hath not many others; as the Cherubim, and Sera- 
 phim, and those which the Apostle distinctly speaks of, 
 Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Powers. All which 
 that God made, is most apparent. Or if in that which is said, 
 He made heaven and earth, all things be comprehended, 
 what shall we say of the waters upon which the Spirit of 
 God moved ? For if they be comprised in this word 
 earth ; how then can formless matter be meant in that 
 name of earth, when we see the waters, so beautiful 1 Or 
 if it be so taken? why then is it written, that out of the 
 same formlessness the firmament was made, and called 
 heaven; &adi that the waters were made, ia not written ? 
 For the waters remain not formless and invisible, seeing 
 we behold them flowing in so comely a manner. But 
 if they then received that beauty, when God said, Let 
 the water which is wnder the firmament ie gathered to- 
 gether, that so the gathering together, be itself the form- 
 ing of them ; what will be answered as to those waters 
 which, be above the firmament ? Seeing neither if formless 
 would they have been worthy of so honorable a seat, nor 
 is it written, by wfjat word> they were formed. If then 
 Genesis is silent as to God's making of any thing, which 
 yet neither sound faith nor well-grounded understanding 
 doubteth that He made,' nor again will any sober teaching 
 dare to affirm these waters to be coeternal with God, on 
 the ground that we find them to be mentioned in the book 
 of Genesis, but do not find wheh they were created ; 
 why (seeing truth teaches us) should we not understand 
 that formless matter (which this Scripture calls the earth 
 invisible and without form, and darksome deep,), to have 
 been created of God out of nothing, and therefore iiot to 
 be coeternal to Him ; notwithstanding this history hath 
 omitted to shew when it was created ? 
 
 [XXIII.] 32. These things then being heard and per- 
 ceived, according to the weakness of my capacity, (which 
 I confess unto Thee, O Lord, that knowest it.) two sorts 
 of disagreements I see may arise, when a thing is in 
 words related by true reporters ; one, concerning the truth 
 of the things, the other, concerning the meaning of the 
 relater. For we' inquire one way about the making of 
 the creature, what is true ; another way, what Moses, 
 
246 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 that excellent ininister of ThyFaith, would have his read- 
 er and hearer understand by those words. For the first 
 sort, away with all those who imagine themselves to know 
 as a truth, what is false ; and for this other, away with all 
 who imagine Moses to have written things false. But let 
 me be united in Thee, O Lord, with those ; and delight 
 myself in Thee, with them that feed on Thy truth, in the 
 largeness of charity, and let us approachtogether unfothe 
 words of Thy book, and seek in them for Thy meaning, 
 through the meaning of Thy servant, by whose pen Thou 
 hast dispensed them. 
 
 [XXIV.] 33. But which of us shall, among those so 
 many truths, which occur to inquirers in those words, as 
 they are differently understood, so discover that one mean- 
 ing, as to affirm, " this Moses thought," and " this would 
 he have understood in that history ;" with the same con- 
 fidence as he would, " this is true," whether Moses 
 thought this or that t For behold, O my God, I, Thy 
 servant, who have in this book vowed a sacrifice of con- 
 fession unto Thee, and pray, that by Thy mercy I may 
 pay my vows unto Thee, can I, with the same confidence 
 wherewith I affirm, that in Thy incommutable world Thou 
 createdst all things visible and invisible, affirm also, that 
 Moses meant no other than than this, when he wrote. In 
 fhe Beginning God made heaven and earth ? No, Be- 
 cause I see not in his mind, that he thought of this when 
 he wrote these things, as I do see it in Thy truth to be 
 certain. For he might have his thoughts upon God's 
 commencement of creating, when he said In the begins 
 fling ; and by heaven and earth, in this place he might 
 intend no formed and perfected nature, whether spiritual 
 or corporeal, but both of them inchoate and as yet form- 
 Jess. For I perceive, that whichsoever of the two had 
 been said, it might have been truly said ; but which of 
 the two he thought of in these words, I do not so per- 
 ceive. Although, whether it were either of these, or any 
 sense beside, (that I have not here mentioned,) which 
 this so great man saw in his mind, when he uttered these 
 words, I doubt not but that he saw it truly, and expressed 
 it aptly. 
 
 [XXV.] 34. Let no njan harass me then, by saying, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 247 
 
 Moses thoaght not as you say, but as I say : for if he 
 should ask me, " How know you that Moses thought that 
 which you infer out of iiis words V I ought to take it in 
 good part, and would answer perchance as 1 have above, 
 or something more at large, if he were unyielding. But 
 when he saith, " Moses meant not what you say, but what 
 I say," and denieth not that what both of us say, may 
 be true ; O my God, life of the poor, in Whose bosom is 
 no contradiction, pour down a softening dew into my 
 heart, that I may patiently bear with such as say this to 
 me ; not because they have a divine Spirit, and have seen 
 in the heart of Thy servant what they speak, but because 
 they be proud ; not knowing Moses' opinion, but loving 
 their own, not because it is truth, but because it is theirs. 
 Otherwise they would equally love another true opinion, 
 as I love what they say, when they say true : not because 
 it is theirs, but because it is true ; and on that very 
 ground not theirs because it is true. But if they there- 
 fore love it, because it is true, then it is both theirs, and 
 mine ; as being in common to all lovers of truth. But 
 whereas they contend that Moses did not mean what I 
 say, but what they say, this I like not, love not : for 
 though it were so, yet their rashness belongs not to knowl- 
 edge, but to overboldness, and not insight but vanity was 
 its parent. O Lord, Thy judgments are terrible ; seeing 
 Thy truth is neither mine, nor his, nor another's ; but be- 
 longing to us all, whom Thou callest publicly to partake 
 of it, warning us terribly, not to account it private to our- 
 selves, lest we be deprived of it. For whosoever chal- 
 lenges that as proper to himself, which Thou propoundest 
 to all to enjoy, and would have that his own which be- 
 longs to all, is driven from what is in common to his own ; 
 that is, from truth, to a lie. For he that speaketh a lie 
 speaketh it of Ms own. 
 
 35. Hearken, O God, Thou best Judge, Truth Itself; 
 hearken to what I shall say to this gainsayer, hearken, for 
 before Thee do I speak, and before my brethren, who em- 
 ploy Thy law lawfully, to the end of charity : hearken 
 and behold, if it please Thee, what I shall say to Him. 
 This brotherly and peaceful word do 1 return unto him : 
 " If we both see that to be true that Thou sayest, and 
 
248 
 
 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 both see that to be true that I say, where, I pray Thee 
 do we see it 1 Neither I iii thee, nor thou in me ; but 
 both in the unchangeable Truth itself, which is above our 
 souls. Seeing then we strive not about the very light of 
 the Lord our God, why strive we about the thoughts of 
 our neighbor which we cannot so see, as the unchangeable 
 Truth is seen : because, if Moses himself had appeared 
 to us and said, ' This I meant,' neither so should we see 
 it, but should believe it. Let us not then be puffed up for 
 one against another, above that which is written : let us 
 love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, 
 and with all our mind: and our neighbor as our self. 
 With a view to which two precepts of charity, unless we 
 believe that Moses meant, whatsoever in those books he 
 did mean, we shall make God a liar, imagining otherwise 
 of our fellow servant's mind than He hath taught us. Be- 
 hold now, how foolish it is, in such abundance of most 
 true meanings as may be extracted out of those words, 
 rashly to affirm which of them Moses principally meant ; 
 and with pernicious contentions to offend charity itself, for 
 whose sake he spake every thing, whose words we go about 
 to expound;" 
 
 [XXVI.] 36. And yet I, O ray God, Thou lifter up of 
 my humility, and rest of my labor, Who hearest my con- 
 fessions, and forgivest my sins ; seeing Thou command- 
 est me to love my neighbor as myself, I cannot believe that 
 Thou gavest a less gift unto Moses, Thy faithful servant, 
 than I would wish or desire Thee to have given nie, had 
 I been born in the time he was, and hadst Thou set me 
 in that office, that by the service of my heart and tongue 
 those books might be dispensed, which for so long after 
 were to profit all nations, and through the whole world 
 ■ from such an eminence of authority, were to surmount all 
 sayings of false and proud teachings. I should have de- 
 sired verily, had I then been Moses, (for we all come from 
 the same lump, and what is man, saving that Thou art 
 mindful of him?) I would then, had I been then what he 
 was, and been enjoined by. Thee to write the book of 
 Genesis, have desired such a power of expression and 
 such a style to be given me, that neither they who cannot 
 yet understand how God created, might reject the sayings, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 249 
 
 as beyond their capacity, and they who had attained 
 thereto, nlight find what true opinion soever they had by 
 thought arrived at, not passed over in those few words of 
 that Thy servant : and should another man by the light of 
 truth have discovered another, neither should that fail of 
 being discoverable in those same words. 
 
 [XXVII.] 37. For as a fountain within a narrow com- 
 pass is more plentiful, and supplies a tide for more streams 
 over larger spaces, than any one of those streams, which, 
 after a wide interval, is derived from the same fountain, 
 so the relation of that dispenser of Thine, which was to 
 benefit many who were to discourse thereon, does, out of 
 a narrow scantling of language, overflow, into streams of 
 clearest truth, whence every man may draw out for him- 
 self such truth as he can, upon these subjects ; one, one 
 truth, another, another, by larger circumlocutions of dis- 
 course. For some, when they read, or hear these words, 
 conceive that God, like a man or some mass endued with 
 "unbounded power, by some new and sudden resolution, 
 did, exterior to itself, as it were at a certain distance, cre- 
 ate heaven and earth, two great bodies above and below, 
 wherein all things were to be contained. And when they 
 hear, God said, Let it be made, and it was made, they con- 
 ceive of words begun and ended, sounding in time, and 
 passing away ; after whose departure, that came into be- 
 itigj-which was commanded so to do; and whatever of 
 the like sort, men's acquaintance with the' material world 
 would suggest. In whom, being yet little ones and car- 
 nal, while their weakness is, by this humble kind of 
 speech, carried on, as in a mother's bosom, their faith is 
 wholesomely built up, whereby they hold assured, that 
 God- made all natures, which in admirable variety their 
 eye beholdeth around. Which words, if any despising, 
 as too simple, with a proud weakness, shall stretch him- 
 self beyond the guardian nest, he will, alas, fall miserably. 
 Have pity, O Lord, lest they who go by the way-trample 
 on the unfledged bird ; send Thine angel to replace it into 
 the nest, that it'may live, till it can fly. 
 
 [XXVIII.] 38. But others, unto whom these words are 
 no longer a nest, but deep shady fruit-bowers, see the 
 fruits concealed therein, and fly joyously around, and with 
 21 
 
350 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 cbeerful notes seek out, and pluck them. Reading or 
 hearing these words, ih^y see that all times past and to 
 come are surpassed by Thy eternal and stable abiding; 
 and yet that there is no creature formed in time, not of 
 Thy making. And, because Thy will is the same that 
 Thou art, Thou madest all things, not by any change of 
 \yill, nor by a will which before was not; and these things 
 were not in Thine own likeness, which is the form of all 
 things, but made out of nothing, a formless unlikeness,, 
 which should be formed by Thy likeness, (recurring to 
 Thy Unity, according to their appointed capacity, so far 
 ^S is given to each thing in his kind,) and might all bej 
 made very good . whether they abide around Thee, or, 
 being in gradation removed in time and place, make or 
 undergo the beautiful variations of the Universe. These 
 things they see, and rejoice, in the little degree they here 
 may, in the light of Thy truth. 
 
 39. Another bends his mind on that which is said, In 
 the Beginning God made heaven and earth ; and beholdeth 
 therein Wisdom,, i/je Beginning because It also speaketh 
 unto us. Another likewise bends his mind on the same 
 words, and by Beginning understands the commencement 
 of -things created ; In the Beginning He made, as if it 
 were said. He at first made. And among them that un- 
 derstand, In the. Beginning to mean, " In Thy Wisdom 
 Thou createdst heaven and earth," one believes the matter 
 out of which the heaven and earth were to be created, to 
 be there called heaven and earth; another, natures al- 
 ready formed and distinguished ; another, one formed na- 
 ture, and that a spiritual, under the name Heaven, the 
 other formless, of corporeal matter, under the name Earth. 
 They again who by the names heaven and earth under- 
 stand matter as yet formless, out of which heaven and 
 earth were to be formed, neither do they understand it in 
 one way ; but some think matter is that out of which hoth 
 the intelligible and the sensible creature were to be per- 
 fected ; others think that only is matter out of which this 
 sensible corporeal ma_ss was to be made, containing in its 
 vast bosom these visible and ordinary natures. Neither 
 do they, who believe creation already ordered and ar- 
 ranged, to be in tliis place called heaven and earth, under- 
 
ST. AUUUSTINE. 251 
 
 stand the same; tut some, both the invisible and visible, 
 others, the visible only, in which we behold this lightsome 
 heaven, and darksome earth, with the things in them con- 
 tained. 
 
 [XXIX.] 40. But he that no otherwise understands J« 
 the Beginning He tn'ade, than if it were said. At first He 
 made, can only truly understand Tieaiien and earth of the 
 matter of heaven and earth, that is, of the universal inteK 
 ligible and corporeal creation. For if he would under- 
 stand thereby the universe, as already formed, it may be 
 rightly demanded of him, " If God made this first, what 
 made He afterwards ?" and after the universe, he will find 
 nothing ; whereupon must he aga:inst his will hear another 
 question: " How [did God make] this first, if nothing af- 
 ter ?" But wlien he says, God ma;de matter first formless, 
 then formed, there is no absurdity, if he be but qualified 
 to discern what pirecedeS by eternity, what by time, what 
 by choice, and what in original. By eternity, a:s God is 
 before all things ; by time,~as the fldvi'er before the fruit ; 
 by choice, as the fruit before the flower; by original, aB 
 the sound before the tune. Of these four, the first and 
 last mentioned are with extreme difficulty understood, the 
 two middle, easily. For a rare and too lofty a vision is it 
 to behold Thy Eternity, O Lord, unchangeably making 
 things changeable ; and" thereby before them. And who, 
 again, is of so sharpsighted understanding, as to be able 
 without-great pains to discern how the sound Is before the 
 tune ? Because a tune is a formed sound ; and a thing not 
 formed, may exist ; whereas, that which existeth not can- 
 not be formed. Thus is the matter before the thing made ; 
 not because it maketh it, seeing itself is rather fn'ade ;noi" 
 is it before by interval of time ; 'for we do net first in tirtte 
 utter formless sou-nds without singing, and subsequently 
 adapt or fashion them into the form of a chant, as wood 
 or silver, whereof a chest or vessel is fashioned. For 
 such materials do by time also precede the forms of the 
 things made of them, but in singing it is not so : for when 
 it is sung, its sound is heard ; for there is not first a form- 
 less sound, which is afterwards formed into a chanti Ydt 
 each sound, as sdon as made, passeth away, hot' cahst 
 thou find aught to recall and by art to compose. So then , 
 
252 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 the chant is concentrated in its sound, which sound is its 
 matter. And this indeed is formed, that it may be a tune ; 
 and therefore (as I said) the matter of the sound is before 
 the form of the tune /not before, through any power it 
 hath to make it a tune ; for a souiid is no way the work- 
 master of the tune, but is something corporeal, subjected 
 to the soul which singeth, whereof to make a tune. Nor 
 is it first in time, for it is given forth together with the 
 tune ; nor first in choice, for a sound is not better than a 
 tune, a tune being not only a sound, but a beautiful sound. 
 But it is first in original, because a tune receives not form 
 to become a sound, but a sound receives a form to become 
 a tune. By this example, let him that is able, understand 
 how the matter of things was first made, and called heaven 
 and earth, because heaven and earth were made out of it. 
 Yet was it not made first in time ; because the forms of 
 things give rise to time ; but that was without form ; but 
 now is, in time, an object of sense, together with its form. 
 And yet nothing can be related of that matter, without 
 considering it prior in time, whereas in value it is last, 
 (because things formed are superior to things without 
 form,) and is preceded by the Eternity of the Creator; 
 that so there might be something out of nothing, whereof 
 something might be created. 
 
 [XXX.] 41. In this diversity of true opinions, let 
 Truth herself produce concord. And our God have 
 mercy upon us, that we may use the law lawfully, the end 
 of the commandment, pure charity. By this if a man de- 
 mands of me, " which of these was the meaning of Thy 
 servant Moses ;" it were not the language of my Confes- 
 sions, should I not confess unto Thee, "I know not;" 
 and yet I know that those senses are true, those carnaj 
 ones excepted, of which I have spoken what seemed 
 necessary. And the words of Thy Book, delivering high 
 things lowlily, and with few words a copious meaning, 
 affright not thy hopeful little ones, nor those who see and 
 express the truth, delivered in the words, let us love one 
 another, and jointly love Thee our God, the fountain of 
 truth, if we are athirst for it, and not for vanities. Yea, 
 let us so honor Thy servant, the dispenser of this Scrip- 
 ture, full of Thy Spirit, as to believe that, when by Thy 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 353 
 
 revelation he wrote these things, he inteiided that, which 
 among theiii chiefly excels, both for light of truth, and 
 fruitfulness of profit. 
 
 [XXXI.] 42. So when one says, " Moses meant a's I 
 do;" and another, "Nay, but as I do," I suppose that I 
 speak more reverently, " Why not rathei" as both, if both 
 be true?" And if there be a third, or a fourth, yea if 
 any other seeth any other truth in those words, why may 
 not he be believed to have seen all these, through whom 
 the One God hath tempered the holy Scriptures to the 
 senses of many, who should see therein things true but 
 divers? For certainly, (and fearlessly I speak it from my 
 heart,) were I to indite any thing to have supreme author- 
 ity, I should prefer so to write, that whatever truth any 
 could apprehend on those matters, might be conveyed in 
 my words, rather than set down my own meaning so clear- 
 ly as to exclude (he rest, which not being false, could not 
 offend me. I will not, therefore, O my God, be so rash, 
 as not to believe, that Thou vouchsafedst'as much to that 
 great man. He, without doubt, when he wrote those 
 words, perceived, and tbougbt on what truth soever we 
 have been able to find, yea, and whatsoever we have not 
 been able, nor yet are, but which may be found in them. 
 
 [XXXII.] 43: Lastly, O Lord, who art God and not 
 flesh and blood, if man did see less, could any thing be 
 concealed from Thy good Spirit, (who shall lead me into 
 the land of uprightness^) which Thou Thyself by those 
 words wert about to reveal to readers in time to come, 
 though he through whom they were spoken, perhaps 
 among many true meanings, thought on only one?, which 
 if so it be, let that which he thought on be of all the high- 
 est. But to us, O Lord, do Thou, either reveal that same, 
 or any other true thing which Thou pleasest ; that so, 
 whether Thou discoverest the same truth to us, as to that 
 servant of Thine, or some other by occasion of those 
 words, yet Thou mayest feed us, not error deceive us. 
 Behold, O Lord my God, how much I have written upon 
 a few words, how much I beseech Thee ! What strength 
 ' of ours, yea, what ages would suffice for all Thy books in 
 this manner? Permit me then in these more briefly to 
 confess unto Thee, and to choose some one true, certain, 
 21* 
 
254 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 and good sense that Thou shalt inspire me, although many 
 should occur, where many may occur ; this being the law 
 of my confession, that if I should say that which Thy 
 minister intended, that is right and best ; for this should 
 I endeavor, and if I should not attain it, yet I should say 
 what Thy Truth willed by words to tell me, which reveal- 
 ed also unto him, what It willed. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE, 253 
 
 THE THIRTENTH BOOK. 
 
 Continuation of the exposition of Gen. 1 ; it contains tiie mystery of tlie Trinity, 
 and a type of tlie formation, Qxtension^ and support of tlie Chitrcli. 
 
 [I.] ]. I CALL upon Thee, O my God, my mercy, Who 
 didst create me, and forgat not me, who forgat Thee. I 
 call Thee into my soul, which, by the longing Thyself 
 jnspirest into her. Thou prepares! for Thee. Forsake me 
 not now, as I call unto Thee, whom Thou didst prevent 
 before I called, and urged me with much variety of re- 
 peated calls, that I would hear Thee from afar, and be 
 converted, and call upon Thee, who didst call after me ; 
 for Thou, Lord, didst blot out all my evil deservings, so 
 as not to repay into my hands, wherewith I fell from Thee ; 
 and Thou hast prevented all my well deservings, so as to 
 repay the work of Thy hands wherewith Thou madest 
 me ; because before I was. Thou wert ; nor was I any 
 thing, to which Thou mightest grant to be ; and yet be- 
 hold, I am, out of Thy goodness, preventing all this 
 which Thou hast made me, and whereof Thou hast made 
 me. For neither hadst Thou need of me, nor am I any 
 such good, as to be helpful unto Thee, my Lord and God ; 
 not in serving Thee, as though Thou wouldest tire in 
 working ; or lest Thy power might be less, if lacking my 
 service : nor cultivating Thy service, as a land, that must 
 remain uncultivated, unless I cultivate Thee : but serving 
 and worshipping Thee, that I might receive well-being 
 from Thee, from whom it comes, that I have a being capa- 
 ble of well-being. 
 
 [II.] 2. For of the fullness of Thy goodness, doth Thy 
 creature subsist, that so a good, which could no ways 
 profit Thee, nor was of Thee, (lest so it should be equal 
 to Thee,) might yet be, since it could be made of Thee. 
 For what did heaven and earth, which Thou madest in the 
 Beginning, deserve of Thee? Let those spiritual and 
 corporeal natures which Thou madest in Thy Wisdom 
 say, wherein they deserved of Thee, to depend thereon, 
 (even in that their several inchoate and formless state. 
 
256 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 whether spiritual or corporeal, ready to fall away into an 
 immoderate liberty and far-distant unlikeliness to Thee ; 
 the spiritual, though without form, superior to the corpo- 
 real though formed, and the corporeal though without 
 form, better than were it altogether nothing,) and so to 
 depend upon Thy Word, as formless, unless by the same 
 Word they were brought back to Thy Unity, indued with 
 form, and from Thee the One Sovereign Good were made 
 all very good. How did they deserve of Thee, to be even 
 without form, since they had not been even this, but from 
 Thee? 
 
 3. How did corporeal matter deserve of Thee, to be 
 even invisible and without form 7 if had not been even 
 this, but that Thou madest it, and therefore — not being — 
 it could not deserve of Thee to be made. Or how could 
 the inchoate spiritual creature deserve of Thee, even to 
 ebb and flow darksomely like the deep, — unlike Thee, 
 uriless it had been by the same Word turned to that, by 
 Whom it was created, and by Hira so enlightened, be- 
 come light ; though not equally, yet conformably to that 
 Forih which is equal unto Thee? For as in a.body, to 
 be, is not one with being beautiful, else could it not be 
 deformed ; so likewise to a created spirit to live, is not 
 one with living wisely ; else should it be wise unchangea-, 
 bly. But i^ is good for it always to hold fast to Thee ; 
 lest what light it hath obtained by turning to Thee, it lose 
 by turning from Thee, and relapse into life resembling 
 the darksome deep. For I, myself, who as to the soul am 
 a spiritual creature, but turned away from Thee, the 
 light, was in that life sometimes darkness ; and still I la- 
 bor amidst the relics of darkness, until in Thy Only One, 
 I become Thy righteousness, like the mowM&ins q/ God ; 
 even as I have been Thy judgments, which are like the 
 great deep. 
 
 ' [III.] 4. That which Thou saidst in the beginning of 
 the creation. Let there he light, and there was light ; I 
 understand of the spiritual creature : because there was 
 already a sort of life, which Thou mightest illuminate. 
 But as it had no claim on Thee for a life, which could be 
 enlightened, so neither now that it was alone, had it any 
 claim to be enlightened. For its formless estate could not 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 257 
 
 be pleasing unto Thee, unless it became light,, and that 
 not by existing simply, but by beholding the illuminating 
 light, and cleaving to it ; so that its living 'and living hap- 
 pily, it owes to nothing but Thy grace ; being by a better 
 change turned unto That which cannot be changed into 
 worse or better ; which Thou alone art, because Thou 
 alone simply art ; unto Thee it being not one thing to 
 live, another to live blessedly, seeing Thyself art Thine 
 own Blessedness. 
 
 [IV.] 5. What would be wanting unto Thy good, which 
 Thou Thyself art, even had these things never been or 
 remained without form ; Thou madest them, not out of 
 any want, but out of the fullness of Thy goodness, restrain- 
 ing them and converting them to form as though Thy joy 
 were fulfilled by them. For to Thee being perfect, their 
 imperfections were displeasing, and hence were they per- 
 fected by Thee, and please Thee ; not that Thou wert im- 
 perfect, and by their perfecting wert to be perfected. For 
 Thy good Spirit indeed was borne over the waters, not 
 borne up by them, as if He rested upon them. For those, 
 on whom Thy good Spirit is said to rest, He causes to 
 rest in Himself. But Thy incorruptible and unchangeable 
 will, in itself all-sufficient for itself, was iorrte upon that 
 life which Thou hadst created ; to which, living is, not one 
 with happy living, seeing itliveth also, ebbing and flowing 
 in its own darkness : wherefore it remaineth to be convert- 
 ed unto Him, by Whom it was made, and to live more 
 and more by the fountain of life, and in His light to 
 see light, and to be perfected, and enlightened, and beau- 
 tified. 
 
 [V.] 6. Lo, now the Trinity appears unto me in a glass 
 darkly, which is Thou, my God ; because Thou, O Fath- 
 er, didst create heaven and earth in Him Who is the Be- 
 ginning of our wisdom. Which is Thy Wisdom, born of 
 Thyself, equal unto Thee and coeternal,that is, Thy Son. 
 Much now have we said of the Heaven of heavens, and of 
 the earth invisible and without form, and of the darksome 
 deep, in reference to the wandering instability of its spir- 
 itual deformity ; which, converted unto Him, from Whom 
 it had its first degree of life, and enlightened by Him be- 
 came a beauteous life, and the heaven set between water 
 
258 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 and water. And under the name of God, I now held the 
 Father, Who made these things, and under the name of 
 Beginning,* the Son, in whom He made these things ; and 
 believing, as I did, my God as the Trinity, I searched 
 further in His holy words, and lo. Thy Spirit moved upon 
 the waters. Behold the Trinity, my God Father, and Son, 
 and Holy Ghost, Creator of all creation. 
 
 [VI.] 7. But what was the cause, O true-speaking 
 Light? — unto Thee I lift up my heart, let it not teach me 
 vanities, dispel its darkness ; and tell me, I beseech Thee, 
 by our mother charity, tell me the reason, I beseech Thee, 
 why after the mention of heaven, and of the earth invisi- 
 He and without form, afid darkness upon the deep, Thy 
 Scripture should then at length mention Thy Spirit? Was 
 it because it was meet that the knowledge of Him should 
 be conveyed, as being " borne above ; " and this could not 
 be said, unless that were first mentioned, over which Thy 
 Spirit may be understood to have been home. For neither 
 was He lame above the Father, nor the Son, nor could 
 He rightly be said to be home above, if He were borne over 
 nothing. First then was that to be spoken of, over which 
 He might be borne ; and then He, whom it was meet not 
 otherwise to be spoken of than as being botne. But where- 
 fore was it not meet that the knowledge of Him should be 
 conveyed otherwise, than as being borne above ? 
 
 [Vn.] S. Hence let him that is able, follow with his 
 understanding Thy Apostle, where he thus speaks, Be- 
 cause Thy love is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy 
 Ghost which is given unto us : and where concerning 
 spiritual gifts, he teacheth and aheweth unto us a more 
 excellent way of charity ; and where he bows his knee unto 
 Thee for us, that we may kndw the superkminent knowl- 
 edge of the love of Christ.^ And therefore from the be- 
 ginning, was He borne supereminent above the waters. 
 To whom shall I speak this ? how speak of the weight of 
 evil desires, downwards to the steep abyss; and how 
 charity rises up again by Thy Spirit which was borne 
 above the waters ? to whom shall I speak it ? how speak 
 it ? For it is not in space that we are merged and emerge. 
 
 * " UndGr the name The Beginning, we understand tlie Son, who is a Beginning 
 not to tho Father, but to the creature— created by Himself." Augustine de 
 Gen. ad Lit. 1. i. ^. 13. 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 259 
 
 What can be more, and yet what less like? They be 
 aflFections, they be loves ; the uncleanness of our spirit 
 flowing, away downwards with the love of cares, and the 
 holiness of Thine raising us upward by love of unanxious 
 repose ; that we may lift our hearts unto Thee, where 
 Thy Spirit is home above the waters ; and come to that 
 super-eminent repose, when our soul shall have passed 
 through the waters which yield no support. 
 
 [VII.] 9. Angels fell away, man's soul fell away, and 
 thereby pointed out the abyss in that dark depth, ready 
 for the whole spiritual creation, hadst not Thou said from 
 the beginning, Let there he light, and there had been 
 light, and every obedient intelligence of Thy heavenly 
 City had cleaved to Thee, and rested* in Thy Spirit, 
 Which is home unchangeably over every thing changeable. 
 Otherwise, had even the heaven of heavens been in itself 
 a darksome deep ; but now it is light in the Lord. For 
 even in that miserable restlessness of the spirits, who fell 
 away and discovered their own darkness, when bared of 
 the clothing of Thy light, dost Thou sufficiently reveal 
 how noble Thou madest the reasonable creature ; to which 
 nothing will suffice to yield a happy rest, less than Thee ; 
 and so not even herself For Thou, O our God, shalt 
 lighten our darkness : from Thee riseth our garment of 
 light ; and then shall our darkness he as the noon day. 
 Give Thyself unto me, O my God, restore Thyself unto 
 me : behold I love, and if it be too little, I would love 
 more strongly. I cannot measure so as to know, how 
 much love there yet lacketh to me, ere my life may run 
 into Thy embracement?, nor turn away, until it be hidden 
 in the hidden place of Thy Presence. This only I know, 
 that woe ia me except in Thee : not only without but 
 within myself also; and all abundance, which is not my 
 God, is emptiness to me. 
 
 [IX.] 10. But was not either the Father, or the Son, 
 home above the waters ?^ if this means, in space, like a 
 body, then neither was the Holy Spirit; but if the un- 
 changeable snper-eminence of Divinity above all things 
 changeable, then were both Father, and Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, borne upon the waters. Why then is this said of 
 Thy Spirit only, why is it said- only of Him ? As if Hp 
 
260 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 had been in place; who is not in place, of whom only it 
 is written, that He is Thy Gift ? In Thy Gift we rest ; 
 there we enjoy Thee. Our rest is our place. Love lifts 
 us up thither, and Thy good Spirit lifts up our lowliness 
 from the gates- of death. In Thy good pleasure is our 
 peace. The body by its own weight strives tovvards its 
 own place. Weight makes not downward only, but to 
 his own place. Fire tends upward, a stone downward. 
 They are urged by their own weight, they seek their own 
 places. Oil poured below water, is raised above the wa- 
 ter ; water poured upon oil, sinks below the oil. They 
 are urged by their own weights to seek their own places. 
 When out of their order, they are restless ; restored to 
 order, they are at rest. My weight is my love ; thereby 
 am I borne, whithersoever I am borne. We are inflamed ; 
 by Thy Gift we are kindled, and are carried upwards ; 
 we glow inwardly, and go forwards. We ascend Thy 
 ways that he in our heart, and sing a song of degrees ; we 
 glow inwardly with Thy fire, with Thy good fire, and we 
 go ; because we go upwards to the peace of Jerusalem : 
 for gladdened was I in those who said unto me, We will go 
 up to the house of the Lord. There hath Thy good pleas- 
 ure placed us, that we may desire nothing else, but to 
 abide there for ever. 
 
 [X.] 11. Blessed creature, which being itself other than 
 ' Thou, has known no other condition, than that, so soon 
 as it was made, it was, without any interval, by Thy Gift, 
 Which is borne above every thing changeable, borne aloft 
 by that calling whereby Thou saidst, Let there be light, 
 and there was light. Whereas, in us this took place at 
 diiferent times, in that we were darkness, and are made 
 light : but of that is only said, what it would have been, 
 hE^d it not been enlightened; And, this is so spoken, as 
 if it had been unsettled and darksome before ; that so the 
 cause whereby it was made otherwise, might appear, 
 namely, that, being turned to the Light unfailing, it be- 
 came light. Whoso can, let him understand this ; let 
 him ask of Thee- Why should he trouble me, as if I 
 could enlighten any man that cometh into this world? 
 
 [XL] 12. Which of us comprehendeth the Almighty 
 Trinity 1 and yet which speaks not of it, if indeed iV be 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 261 
 
 it? Rare is the soul, which, while it speaks of it, knows 
 what it speaks of. Mea contend and strive, yet, without 
 peace; no man sees that vision. I would that men would 
 consider these threej that are in themselves. These three 
 are ifldeed far other than the Trinity : I do but tell, where 
 men may practise themselves, and prove and feel how far 
 they are. Now the three I spake of, are. To Be, to 
 Know, and to Will. For I Am, and Know, and Will : I 
 Am Knowing and Willing : and I Know myself to Be, 
 and to Will : and I Will to Be, and to Know. In these 
 three, then-, let him discern- how inseparable a life there 
 is, yea, one life, one mind, and one essence ; yea, lastly, 
 how inseparable a disnnction there is, and yet a distinct 
 tion. Surely a man hath it before him ; let him look into 
 himself, and see, and tell me. But when he discovers and 
 can say any thing of these, let him not therefore think 
 that he has found that which is above these Unchangeable, 
 which Is unchangeably, and, Knows unchangeably, and 
 Wills unchangeably ; and' whether because of these three, 
 there is in God also a Trinity, or whether all three be in 
 Each, so that the three belong to Each : or whether both 
 ways at once, wpndrously, simply and yet manifoldly, itself 
 a bound unto itself within itself, yet unbounded ; whereby 
 it is, and is Known unto itself, and sufficeth to itself, un- 
 changeably the Self-same, by the abundant greatness of 
 its Unity.i^who can readily conceive this ? who cpuld any 
 ways express it? who would, any way, pronounce thereon 
 rashly ? 
 
 [XII.] 13. Proceed in thy confession ; say to the Lord 
 thy God, O ray faith. Holy, Holy, Holy, O Lord my God^ 
 in Thy Name have we been, baptized, Father, Son, anjd 
 Holy Ghost ; in Thy Name do we baptize, Father, Son, 
 and Holy Ghost ; because among us, also, in His Christ 
 did God make heaven and earth, namely, the spiritual and 
 carnal people of His Church. Yea, and our earth, before 
 it received the form of doctrine, was invisible and without 
 form; and we were covered with the darkness of igno- 
 rance. Per Thou chastenedst man for iniquity, and Thy 
 judgments were like the great deep unto him. But becaifse 
 Thy Spirit was borne above the waters. Thy mercy for- 
 sook not our misery, and Thou saidst. Let there be light, 
 32 
 
262 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Re- 
 pent ye, let there be light. And because our soul was 
 troubled within us, we remembered Thee, O Lord, from 
 the land of Jordan, and that mountain equal unto Thy- 
 self, but little for our sakes ; and our darkness displeased 
 us, we turned unto Thee, and there was light. And, be- 
 hold, we were sometimes darkness, but now light in the 
 Lord. 
 
 [XIII.] 14. But as yet by faith and not by sight, for 
 by hope we are saved : but hope that is seen, is not hope. 
 As yet doth deep call unto deep, but now in the voice of 
 Thy wafer- spouts. As yet doth he that saith, I could not 
 speak unto you as unto spiritual, bm us unto carnal, even 
 he as yet doth not think himself to have apprehended, and 
 forgetteth those things which are behind, and reacheth 
 forth to those which are before, and groaneth, being bur- 
 thened, and his soul thirsteth after the Living God, as the 
 hart after the water-brooks, and saith, When shall I come 7 
 desiring to be clothed upon with his house which is from 
 heaven, und calleth upon this lower deep, saying, Be not 
 conformed to this world, but be ye tran^ormed by the re- 
 nevnng of your mind. And, be not children in understand- 
 ing, but in malice be ye children, that in understanding ye 
 may be perfect ; and O foolish Galatians, who hath be- 
 witched you 7 But now no longer in his own voice, but 
 in Thine who sentest Thy Spirit from above ; through 
 Him who ascended up on high, and set open the flood-gates 
 
 . of his gifts, that the force of His streams might make glad 
 the city of God. Him doth this friend of the bridegroom 
 sigh after, having now the first-fruits of the Spirit laid 
 tip with Him, yet still groaning within himself, waiting 
 
 for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of his body ; to 
 Him he sighs, a member of the Bride ; for Him he is jeal- 
 ous, as being a friend of the Bridegroom ; for Him he is 
 jealous, not for himself; because in the voice of Thy war 
 ter-spouts, not in his own voice, doth he call to that other 
 depth, over whom being jealous, he feareth, lest as the 
 serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so their minds 
 should be corrupted from the purity that is in our Bride- 
 groom, Thy Only Son. O what a light of beauty will 
 that be, when we shall see Him as He is, and those tears 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 263 
 
 he passed away, which have been my meat day and night, 
 whilst they daily say unto me, Where is now thy God ? 
 
 [XIV.] 15. Behold, I too say, O my God, Where art 
 Thou ? see, where Thou art ! in Thee I breathe a little, 
 when I pour out my soul hy myself in the voice of joy and 
 praise, the sound of him thai keeps holy-day. And yet 
 again it is sad, because it relapseth, and becomes a deep, 
 or rather perceives itself still to be a deep. Unto it speaks 
 my faith which Thou hast kindled to enlighten my feet 
 in the night, Why art thou sad, O my soul, and why dost 
 thou trouble me ? Hope in, tlie Lord ; His word is a Ian- 
 thorn u7ito thy feet :, Iwpe and endure, until the night, the 
 mother of the wicked, until the wrath of the Lord, be 
 overpast, whereof we also were once children, who were 
 sometimes darkness, relics whereof we bear about us in 
 our htdy, dead because of sin ; until the day break, and 
 the shadows fly away. Hope thou in the- Lord; in the 
 morning I shall stand in Thy presence, and contemplate 
 Thee : 1 shall for ever confess unto Tliee. In the morn- 
 ing I shall stand in Thy presence, and shall see the health 
 of my countenance, my God, Who also shall quicken our 
 mortal bodies, by the Spirit that dwelleih in us, because 
 He hath in mercy been borne over our inner darksome 
 and floating deep : from Whom we have in this pilgrim- 
 age received an earnest, that we should riow be light : 
 whilst we are saved by hope, and are the children of light, 
 and the children of the day, not the children of the night, 
 nor of the darkness, which yet sometimes vie. were. Be- 
 twixt whom and us, in this uncertainty of human knowl- 
 edge. Thou only dimdest ; Thou, who provest our hearts, 
 and callest the light, day, and the darkness, night. For 
 who discerneth us, but Thou ? And what have we, that 
 we-have not received of Thee ? out of the same lump ves- 
 sels unto honor, whereof others also are made unto dis- 
 honor. 
 
 {XV.] 16. Or who, except Thou, our God, made for 
 us that firmament of authority over us in Thy divine 
 Scripture 1 as it is said. For heaven shall be folded up like 
 a scroll ; arid now is it stretched over us like a skin. For 
 Thy Divine Scripture is of more eminent authority, since 
 those mortals by whom Thou dispensest it unto us, under- 
 
264 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 went mortality. And Thou knowest. Lord, Thou know- 
 est, how Thou with skins didst clothe men, when they by 
 sin became mortal. Whence Thou hast like a skin 
 stretched out the firmament of Thy book, that is. Thy 
 harmonizing words, which by the miitistry of mortal men 
 Thou spreadest over us. For by their very death was 
 that solid firmament of authority, in Thy discourses set 
 forth by them, mote emineratly extended over all that be 
 under it ; which whilst they lived here, was not so emi- 
 nently extended. Thou hadst not as yet spread abroad 
 the heaven like a skin ; Thou Jiadst not as yet enlarged in 
 all directions the glory of their deaths. 
 
 17. Let us look, O Lord, upon the heavens, the mark of 
 Thy fingers ; clear from our eyes that cloud, which Thou 
 
 hast spread under them. There is Thy testimony, which 
 givetJi wisdom unto the little ones : perfect, O my God, Thy 
 praise out of the mouth of babes and sucklings. For we 
 know no other books, which so destroy pride, which so 
 destroy the enemy and the defender, who resisteth Thy 
 reconciliation by defending bis own sins. I know not,. 
 Lord, I know not any other such pure words, which so 
 persuade me to confess, and make ray neck pliant to Thy 
 yoke, and invite me to serve Thee for nought. Let me 
 understand them, good Father : grant this to me, who am 
 placed under them : because for those placed under them, 
 hast Thou established them. 
 
 18. Other waters there be- above this firmament, I be- 
 lieve immortal and separated from earthly corruption. 
 Let them praise Thy name, let them praise Thee, the 
 super-cdestial people, Thine angels, who have no need t© 
 gaze up at this firmament, or by reading to know of Thy 
 Word. For tiiey always behold Thy face^ and there read 
 without any syllables in time, what willeth Thy eter«af 
 will ; they read, they choose, they love. They are ever 
 reading; and that never passes away which they read; 
 for by choosing, and by loving, they" read the very un- 
 changeableness of Thy counsel. Their book is never 
 closed, nor their scroll folded up ; seeing Thou Thyself 
 art this to them, and art eternally; because Thou hast 
 ordained them above this _)?rma»iew<, which Thou hast 
 firmly settled over the infirmity of the lower people, where 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 265 
 
 they might gaze up and learn Thy mercy, announcing in 
 time Thee who madest times. For Thy.mercy, O Lord, 
 is in the lieavens, and Thy truth reacheth unto the clouds. 
 The clouds' pass away, but the heaven abideth. The 
 preachers of Thy word pass out of this life into another ; 
 but Thy Scripture is spread abroad over the people, even 
 unto the. end of the world. Yet heaven and earth also 
 shall pass away, but Thy words shall not pass away. Be- 
 cause the scroll shall be rolled together : and the grass 
 over which it was spread, shall with the goodliness of it 
 pass away ; but Thy Word remaineth for ever, which now 
 ■appeareth unto "Us ander the dark image of the clouds, and 
 through the glass of the heavens, not as it is : because we 
 also,^ through the well-beloved of Thy Son, yet it hath not 
 yet appeared what we shall be. He looked through the 
 lattice of our flesh, and He spake us tenderly, and kindled 
 us, and we ran after his odors. But when he shall appear, 
 then, shall we be like him^ for we shall see Him as He is-. 
 As he is. Lord, will our sight be. 
 
 [XVI.] 19. For altogether, as Thou art, Thou only 
 knowest ; Who art unchangeably, and knowest un- 
 changeably, and wiliest unchangeably. And Thy Essence 
 Knoweth and Wiliest unchangeably ; and Thy Knowl- 
 edge Is, and Willeth unchangeably ; and Thy ,Will Is, 
 and Knoweth unchangeably. Nor seemeth it right in 
 Thine eyes, that as the Unchangeable Light knoweth It- 
 self, so should it be known by the thingenlightened, and 
 changeable. Therefore is my soul like a land where no 
 water is, because as it cannot of itself enlighten itself, so 
 can it not of itself satisfy itself. For so is. ih^ fountain 
 of life with Thee, like as in Thy light we shall see light. 
 
 . [XVII.] 20. Who gathered the embittereol together into 
 one iSoeiety 1 For they have all one end, a temporal and 
 earthly felicity, for attaining whereof they do all things, 
 though they waver up and down with an innumerable va- 
 riety of cares. Who, Lord, but Thou, saidst, ie« the 
 waters be gathered together into one place, and let the dry 
 land appear, which thirsteth after Thee? For the sea 
 also is Thine, and Thou hast made it, and Thy hands pre- 
 pared the dry land. " Nor is the bitterness of men's wills, 
 ■ but the gathering together of the waters, called sea ; fof 
 22* 
 
266 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 Thou restrainest the wicked desires of mens' soals, and 
 settest them their bounds^ how far they may be allowed to 
 pass, that their waves may break one against another ; 
 and thus makest Thou it a sea, by the order of Thy do- 
 minion over all things. 
 
 21. But the souls that thirst after Thee, and that apr 
 jjear before Thee, (being "by other bounds divided from 
 the society of the sea,) Thou waterest by a sweet spring, 
 that the earth may bring forth her fruit, and Thou, Lord 
 God, so commanding, our soul may bud forth works of 
 mercy according to their land, loving our neighbor in the 
 relief of his bodily necessities, having 'seed in itself ac- 
 cording to its likeness, when from feeling of our infirmity, 
 we compassionate so as to relieve the needy ; helping 
 them, as we would be helped, if we were in like need ; 
 ■not only in things easy, as in herb yielding seed, but also 
 in the protection of our assistance, with our best strength, 
 like the tree yielding fruit : that is, well-doing in rescuing 
 him that suffers wrong, from the hand of the powerful, 
 and giving him the shelter of protection, by the mighty 
 strength of just judgment. 
 
 [XVIII.] 22. So Lord, so, 1 beseech Thee, let there 
 ■spring up, as Thou doest, as Thou givest cheerfulness and 
 ability, let truth spring out of the earth, and righteousness 
 look down from heaven, and let there he lights, in tlie firm- 
 ament. Let Its break our bread to the hungry, and bring 
 the houseless poor to our house. Let ns clothe the naked, 
 and despise not those of our own flesh. Which fruits have 
 sprung out of the earth, see it is good : and let our tem- 
 porary light break forth ; and ourselves, from this lower 
 fruitfulness of action, arriving at the deligbtfulness of con- 
 templation, obtaining the Word of Life above, appear like 
 lights in the world, cleaving to the firmament of Thy Scrip- 
 ture. For there Thou instructest us, to divide between 
 the things intellectual, and things of sense, as betwixt tlie 
 day and the night ; or between souls, given either to things 
 intellectual, or things of sense, so that now not Thou only 
 in the secret of Thy judgment, as before the firmament 
 was made, dividest between the light and the darkness, 
 but Thy spiritual children, ailso set and ranked in the 
 sKme firmament, {nov/ that Thy grace is laid open through- 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 267 
 
 out the world,) may give ligJit upon tlte earth, and divide 
 betwixt the day and the night, and be for signs of times, 
 that old things are passed away, and, behold, all things 
 are become new ; and that our salvation is nearer than when 
 we believed: and that the night is far spent, and the day 
 is at hand: and that Thou wilt crown Thy year with bless- 
 ing, sending the laborers of Thy goodness into Thy har- 
 vest, in sowing whereof, others have labored, sending also 
 into another field, whose harvest shall be in the end. Thus 
 ■grantest Thou the prayers of him that asketh, and blessed 
 the years of the just ; but Thou art the same, and in Thy 
 years which fail not. Thou preparest a garner for our 
 passing years. For Thou by an eternal counsel dost in 
 their proper seasons bestow heavenly blessings upon the 
 earth. For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wis- 
 dom, as it were the greater light, for their sakes who are 
 delighted with the light of perspicuous truth, as it were 
 for the rule of the day. To another the word of knowl- 
 edge by the same Spirit, as it were the lesser light : to 
 .anoilier faith ; to another the gift. of healing ; to another 
 the working of miracles : to another prophecy; to another 
 discerning of spirits ; to another divers kinds of tongues. 
 JVnd all these as it were stars. For all these worketh the 
 one and self-same spirit, dividing to every man his own 
 as He will ; and causing stars to itppeax manifestly, to 
 profit withal. But the word of knowledge, wherein are 
 contained all Sacraments, which are varied in their sea- 
 sons as it were the moon, and those other notices of ^i^is, 
 which are reckoned up in order, as it were stars, inas- 
 much as they come short of that brightness of wisdom, 
 which gladdens the forementioned /day, are only for the 
 rule of the night. For they are necessary to such, as that 
 Thy most prudent servant could not speak unto as unto 
 spiritual, but as unto carnal ; even he who speakcth wis- 
 dom among those that are perfect. But the natural man, 
 as it were a babe' in Christ and fed on milk, until he be 
 strengthened for solid meat and his eye he enabled to be- 
 hold the Sun, let him not dwell in a night forsaken of all 
 light, ,but be content with the light of the moon and the 
 stars. So dost Thou speak to us, our All-wise God, in Thy 
 Book, Thy firmament; that we may discern all things, in 
 
268 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 an admirable contemplation ; though as yet in signs, and 
 in times, and in days, and in years: 
 
 [XIX.] 24. But first, wash you, he clean; put away 
 evil from your souls, and from before mine eyes, that the 
 dry land may appear. Learn to do good, judge the fath- 
 erless, plead for the widoio, that the earth may bring forth 
 the gteen herb for meat, and the tree bearing fruit ; and 
 come, let us- reason together, saith the Lord, that there 
 may be lights in the firmament of the heaven, and they 
 may shine upon the earth. That rich man asked of the 
 good Master, what he should do to attain everlasting life. 
 Let the good Master tell him, (whom he thought no more 
 than man; but he is good because he is God,) let Him 
 tell him, if he would enter into life, he must keep the com- 
 mandments : let him put away from him the bitterness of 
 malice and wickedness ; not kill, not commit adultery, not 
 steal, not bear false witness ; that the dry land may ap- 
 pear, and bring forth the honoring of father and mother, 
 and the love of our neighbor. ^ZZ if Aese (saith he) have 1 
 kept. Whence then so many thorns, if the earth be fruit- 
 ful ? Go, root up the spreading thickets of covetousness ; 
 sell that thou hast, and be filled with fruit, by giving to 
 the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; and fol- 
 lovj the Lord if thou wilt be perfect, associated with them, 
 among whom. He speakcth wisdom. Who knoweth what 
 to distribute to the day, and to the night, that thou mayest 
 also know it, and for thee there may be lights iti the firm- 
 ament of heaven ; which will not be, unless thy heart be 
 there ; nor will that either be, unless there thy treasure be ; 
 as thou hast heard of the good Master. But that barren 
 earth was grieved ; and the thorns choked the word. 
 
 25. But you, chosen generation, you teeak things «f the 
 world, who have forsaken all, that ye may follow the 
 Lord; go after Him, and confound the mighty;' go after 
 Him, ye beautiful feet, and shine ye in the firmament, that 
 the heavens may declare His glory, dividing between the 
 light of the perfect, though not as the angels, and the dark- 
 ness of the little ones, though not despised. Shine over 
 the earth ; and let the day, lightened by the sun. Utter 
 unto day, speech oi wisdom, and night ; shining with the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 269 
 
 moon, shew unto night, the word of Jcnowledge. The moon 
 and stars shine for the night ; yet doth the night obscure 
 them, seeinglthey give it light in its degree. For behold 
 God saying, as it were. Let there be lights in the firma- 
 ment of heaven ; there came suddenly a sound from heaven, 
 as it had been the rushing of a mighty wind, and there 
 appeared eleven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon 
 each of them. And there were made lights in the firma- 
 ment of heaven, having the word of life. Run ye to and 
 fro every where, ye holy fires, ye beauteous fires ; for ye 
 are the light of the morld, nor are ye put under a bushel ; 
 He whom you cleave unto, is exalted, and hath exalted 
 you. Run ye to and fro, and be known unto all nations. 
 
 [XX.] 26. Let the sea also conceive and bring forth 
 your works ; and let the waters bring forth the moving 
 creature that hath life. For ye, separating the precious 
 from the vile, are made the mouth of God, by whom He 
 saith, Let the waters bring forth, not the living creature 
 which the earth brings forth, but the moving creature hav- 
 ing life, and the fowls that fly above the earth. For Thy 
 Sacraments, O God, by the ministry of Thy holy ones, 
 have moved amid the waves of temptations of the world, 
 to hallovr the Gentiles in Thy Name, in Thy Baptism. 
 And amid these things, many great wonders were wrought, 
 as it were great whales : and the voices of Thy messengers 
 flying above the earth, in the open firmament of Thy Book ; 
 that being set over them, as their authority under which 
 they were to fly, whithersoever they went. For there is 
 no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard : 
 seeing their sound.is gone through all the earth, and their 
 words to the end of the world, because Thou, Lord, multi- 
 pliedst them by blessing. 
 
 27. Speak I untruly, or do I mingle and confound, and 
 not distinguish between the lucid knowledge .of these 
 things in the firmament of heaven, and the material works 
 in the wavy sea, and under the firmament of heaven ? For 
 of those things whereof the knowledge is substantial 
 and defined, without any increase by generation, as it were 
 lights of wisdom and knowledge, yet even of them, the 
 material operations are many and divers ; and one thing 
 growing out of another, they are multiplied by Thy bles- 
 
270 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 sing, O God, who hast refreshed the fastidiousness of mor- 
 tal senses ; that so one thiag in the understMiding of our 
 mind naay, by the motions of the body, be nnmy ways, set 
 out, and expressed. These Sacraments have the waters 
 brought forth, but in Thy word. The necessities of the 
 people estranged from the eternity of Thy truth, have 
 brought them forth, but in Thy Gospel ; because the wa- 
 ters themselves cast them forth, the diseased bitterness 
 whereof was the cause, why they were sent forth in Thy 
 Word. 
 
 28. Now are all things fair that Thou hast made ; but 
 behold, Thyself art unutterably fairer, that madest all; 
 from Whom had not Adam fallen, the brackishness of the 
 sea had never flowed out of him, that is, the human race 
 so profoundly curious, and tempestuously swelling, and 
 restlessly tumbling up and down ; and then had there been 
 no need of Thy dispensers to work in many waters, afler 
 a corporeal and sensible manner, mysterious doings and 
 sayings. For such those moving and fiying creatures now 
 seem to me to mean, whereby people being initiated and 
 consecrated by corporeal Sacraments, should not further 
 profit, unless their soul had a spiritual life, and unless af- 
 ter the word of admission, it looked forwards to perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 [XXI.] 29. And hereby, in Thy Word, not the deep- 
 ness of the sea, but the earth separated from the bitterness 
 of the waters, brings forth, not the moving creature that 
 hath lifi, but the living soul. For now hath it no more 
 need of baptism, as the heathen have, and as itself had 
 when it was covered with the waters ; (for no other en- 
 trance is there into the kingdom of heaven, since Thou 
 hast appointed that this should be the entrance ;) nor does 
 it seek after wonderfulness of miracles to work belief; 
 for it is not such, that unless it sees signs and wonders, it 
 will not believe, now that the faithful earth is separated 
 from the waters that were bitter with infidelity; and 
 tongues are for a sign, not to them that believe, but to them 
 that believe not. Neither then does that earth which 
 Thouhast foundedupon the waters, need that '^ying- hind 
 which at Thy word the waters brought forth. Send Thou 
 Thy word into it by Thy messengers : for we speak of 
 
ST. AUGPSTINE. 271 
 
 their working, yet it is Thou that workqst in them that 
 they may work out a living soul in it. The earth brings 
 it forth, because the earth is the cause that they work this 
 in the soul, as the sea wasjhe cause that they wrought 
 upon the moving' creatures that have life, and the fowls 
 that fly under the firmament of heaven, of whom the 
 earth hath no need ; although it feeds upon that fish which 
 was taken out of the deep, upon that table which Thou 
 hast prepared in the presence of them that believe. For 
 therefore was He taken out of the deep, that he might 
 feed the dry land ; and the fowl, though, bred in the sea, 
 is yet multiplied upon the earth. For of the first preach- 
 ings of the Evangelists, man's infidelity was the cause; 
 yet are the faithful also exhorted and blessed by them 
 manifoldly, fi-om day to day. But the living soul takes 
 his beginning from the earth : for it profits only those al- 
 ready among the Faithful, to contain themselves from the 
 love of this world, that so their soul may live unto Thee, 
 which was dead while it lived in pleasures ; in death-bring- 
 ing pleasures, Lord, for Thou, Lord, art the life-giving 
 delight of the pure heart. 
 
 . 30. Now then let Thy ministers work upon the earth — 
 not as upon the waters of infidelity, by preaching and 
 speaking, by miracles, and Sacraments, and inystic words ; 
 wherein ignorance, the mother of admiration, might be 
 intent upon them, out of a reverence towards thosesecret 
 signs. For such is the entrance unto the Faith for the 
 sons of Adam forgetful of Thee, while they hide them- 
 selves from Thy face, and become a darksome deep. But 
 let Thy ministers work now as on the dry land, separated 
 from the whirlpools of the great deep : and let them be a 
 pattern unto the Faithful, by living before them, and stir- 
 ring them up to imitation. For thus do men hear, so as 
 not to hear only, but to'do also. Seek the^Lord, and your 
 soul shall live, that the earth may bring forth, the living 
 soul. Be not conformed to the world. Contain yourselves 
 from it: the soul lives. by avoiding what it dies by loving. 
 Contain yourselves from the ungoverned wildness of pride, 
 the sluggish voluptuousness of luxury, and the false name 
 of knowledge : that so the Mjild beasts may b? tamed, the 
 cattle broken to the yoke, the serpents, harmless, l^r 
 
372 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 these be the motions of our mind under an allegory; that 
 is to say, the haughtiness of pride, the delight of lust, and 
 the poison of curiosity, are the motions of a dead soul ; 
 for the soul dies not so as to lose all motion ; because it 
 dies by forsaking the fountain of life, and so is taken up 
 by this transitory world, and is conformed unto it. 
 
 31. But Thy word, O God, is the fountain of life eter- 
 nal, and passeth not away : wherefore this departure of 
 the soul is restrained by Thy word, when it is said unto 
 us, Be not conformed unto this world; that so tlie earth 
 may in the fountain of life bring forth a living soul ; 
 that is, a soul made continent in Thy Word, by Thy 
 Evangelists, by following the followers of Thy Christ. 
 For this is after his kind; because a man is wont to im- 
 itate his friend. Se ye (saith he) as I am, for I also am 
 as you- are. Thus in this living soul shall there be good 
 beasts, in meekness of action ; (for Thou hast commanded, 
 Go on with thy business in meekness^ so shalt thou be be- 
 loved by all men ;) and good cattle, which neither if they 
 eat shall they over-abound, nor, if they eat not, have any 
 lack ; and good serpents, not dangerous, to do hurt, but 
 wise, to take, heed ; and only making so much search into 
 this temporal nature, as may suffice that eternity be clearly 
 seen, being understood by the things that are made. For 
 these creatures are obedient unto reason, when, being re- 
 strained from deadly prevailing upon us, they live, and are 
 good. 
 
 32. For behold, O Lord our God, our Creator, when 
 our affections have been restrained from the love of the 
 world, by which we died through evil-living ; and begun 
 to be a living soul, through good living ; and Thy word 
 which Thou spakest by Thy apostle, is made good in us, 
 Be not conformed to this world : there follows that also, 
 which Thou presently subjqinedst, saying, But be ye 
 transformed by the renewing of your mind ; not now after " 
 your kind, as though following your neighbor who went 
 before yoti, nor as living after the example of some better 
 man, (for Thou saidst not, " Let man be made after his 
 kind," but, Let us make man after our own image and 
 similitude, ) that vie might prove what Thy will is. For 
 to'lfhis purpose said that dispenser of Thine, (who begat 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 273 
 
 children hy the Gospel,) that he might not for ever have 
 them 6a6es, vyhom he must be fain io feed with, milk, and 
 cherKh as a nurse ; he ye transformed (saith he) by the 
 renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that 
 good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Wherefore 
 Thou sayest not, " Let man be made," but Let us make 
 man. Nor saidst Thou, " according to his kind ;" but, 
 after our image and likeness. For man being renewed in 
 his mind, and beholding and understanding Thy truth, 
 needs not man as his director, so as to follovr after his 
 kind; but by Thy direction proveth what is that good, 
 that acceptable, and perfect will of Thine : yea. Thou 
 teachest him, now made capable, to discern the Trinity 
 of the Unity, and the Unity of the Trinity. Wherefore 
 to that said in the plural, Let us make man, is yet subjoin- 
 ed in the singular. And God made man : and to that said 
 in the plural. After our likeness, is subjoined in the sin- 
 galai, After the imagb of God. Thus is man renewed in 
 the knowledge of God, after the image of Him that creat- 
 ed him: and being made spiritual, hejudgeth all things, 
 (all things which are to be judged,) yet himself is judged 
 of no man. 
 
 [XXIII.] 33. But that he judgeth all things, this 
 answers to his having dominion over the fish of the sea, 
 and over the fowls of the air, and over all cattle- and wild 
 beasts, and over all the earth, and over every creeping 
 thing that creepeth upon the earth. For this he doth by 
 the understanding of his mind, whetehy'he ptrceiveth the 
 things of the Spirit of God ; whereas otherwise, man 
 being placed in honor, had no understanding, and is com- 
 pared unto the brute beasts, and is become like unto them. 
 In Thy Church, therefor®, O our God, according to Thy 
 grace which Thou hast bestowed upon it, (for we are Thy 
 workmanship created unto good works,) not those only who 
 are spiritually set over, but they also who spiritually are 
 subject to those that are set over them, — (for in this way 
 didst Thou make man male and female, in Thy grace 
 spiritual, where, according to the sex of body, there is 
 neither male nor female, because neither Jew nor Grecian, 
 neither bond nor free.)— Spiritual persons, (whether such 
 as are set over, or such as obey ;) do judg& spiiitasily ; 
 23 
 
274 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 not of that spiritual knowledge wMcli shines in the fir- 
 mament, (for they ought not to judge as to so su- 
 preme authority,) nor may they judge of Thy Book 
 itself, even though something there shineth not clearly ; 
 for we submit our understanding unto it, and hold for 
 certain, that even what is closed to our sight, is yet right- 
 ly and truly spoken. For so man, though now spiritual 
 and renewed in the knowledge of God after His image 
 that created him, ought to be a doer of the law not a 
 judge. Neither doth he judge of that distinction of spir- 
 itual and carnal men, who are known unto Thine eyes, O 
 our God, and have not as yet discovered themselves unto 
 us by works, that by their fruits we might know them : 
 but Thou, Lord, dost even now know them, and hast di- 
 vided and called them in secret, or ever the firtnament 
 was made. Nor doth he, though spiritual, judge the un- 
 quiet people of this world ; for what hath he to do, to 
 judge them that are without, knowing not which of them 
 shall hereafter come into the sweetness of Thy grace ; 
 and which continue in the perpetual bitterness of ungod- 
 liness 1 
 
 34. Marl, therefore, whom Thou hast made after Thine 
 own image, received not dominion over the lights of heaven, 
 nor over that hidden heaven itself, nor over the day and 
 the night, which Thou calledst before the foundation of 
 the heaven, nor over the gathering together of the waters, 
 which is the sea ; but He received dominion over the fishes 
 of the sea, and the fowls of the air, and over all cattle, 
 and over all the earth, and over all creeping things which 
 creep upon the earth. For He judgeth and approveth 
 what He findeth right, and He disalloweth what. He fjnd- 
 eth amiss, whether in the celebration of those Sacraments 
 by which such are initiated, as Thy mercy searches out in 
 many waters : or in that, in which that Fish is set forth, 
 which, taken out of the deep, the devout earth feed upon : 
 or in the expressions and signs of words, subject to the 
 authority of Thy Book — such signs, as proceed out of the 
 mouth, and sound forth, flying as it were under the firma- 
 ment, by interpreting, expounding, discoursing, disputing, 
 consecrating, or praying unto Thee, so that the people 
 may aiiswer, Amen. The vocal pronouncing of all which 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 275 
 
 words, is occasioned by the deep of this world, and the 
 blindness of the flesh, which cannot see thoughts ; so that 
 there is no need to speak aloud in the ears ; so that, al- 
 though Jlying fowls h^ multiplied uponihe eartli, yet they 
 derive their beginning from the waters. The spiritual 
 man jadgeih also by allowing of what is right, and disal- 
 lowing what he finds amiss, in the works and lives of the 
 faithful ; their alms, as it were the earth bringing forth 
 fruit, and of the living soul, living by the taming of the 
 affections, in chastityj in fasting, in holy meditations ; 
 and of those things which are perceived by the senses of 
 the body. Upon all th6se is he now said to judge, 
 wherein he hath also power of correction. 
 
 35. But what is this, and what kind of mystery.'' Be- 
 hold, Thou hlessest mankind^ O Lord, XhaA they may in- 
 crease and multipiy, and replenish ike earth ; dost Thou 
 not thereby give us a hint to understand something ? why 
 didst Thou not as well bless the lights which Thou cdll- 
 edst day ; nor the firitiament of heaven, nor the lights, nor 
 the stars, nor the earth, nor the sea ? I might say that 
 Thou, O God, who created us after Thine Image, I might 
 say, that it had been Thy good pfeasure to bestow this Mess- 
 ifig peculiarly upon man ; hadst Thou not in like ihanner 
 blessed the fishes and .the whales, that Aey should increase 
 and multiply, and replenish the uiaters of the sea, and that 
 ihe: fowls should he multiplied upon the earth. I might 
 say likewise, that this blessing pertained properly unto such 
 creatures, as are bred of their own kind, had I found it 
 given to the fruit-trees, and plants, and beasts of the earth. 
 But now neither unto the herbs, nor the trees, nor thfe 
 beasts, iior serpents is it said, Increase and multiply ; 
 notwithstanding all- these as well as the fishes, fowls, or 
 men, do by generation increase and continue their kind. 
 
 36. What then shall I say, O Truth my Light.? " that 
 it was idly said, and without meaning.?" Not so, O Fath- 
 er of piety, far be it from a minister of Thy ^ord to say 
 so. And if I understand not what Thou meanest by that 
 phrase, let riny betters, that is, those of more understand- 
 ibg than myself, make better use of it, according as Thdu, 
 my God, hast given to each man to understand. But let 
 my confession alsci be pleasing in Thine eyes, ' wherein I 
 
276 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 confess unto Thee, that I believe, O Lord, that Thou spak- 
 est not so in vain ; nor will I suppress, what this lesson 
 suggests to me. For it is true, nor do I see what should 
 hinder me from thus understanding the figurative sayings of 
 Thy Bible. For I know a thing to be manifoldly signified by 
 corporeal expressions, which is understood one way by the 
 mind ; and that understood many ways in the mind ; which 
 is signified one way by corporeal expression. Behold, the 
 single love of God and our neighbor, by what manifold 
 sacraments, and innumerable languages, and in each sev- 
 eral language, in how innumerable modes of speaking, it 
 is corporeally expressed. Thus do the offsprings of the 
 waters increase and multiply. Observe again, whosoever 
 readest this ; behold, what Scripture delivers, and the voice 
 pronounces one only way. In the Beginning God created 
 heaven and earth; is it not understood manifoldly, not 
 through any deceit of error, but by various kinds of true 
 senses ? Thus do man's offspring increase and multiply. 
 37. If therefore we conceive of the natures of the things 
 themselves, not allegorically, but properly, then does the 
 phrase increase and multiply, agree unto all things, that 
 come of seed. But if we treat of the Words as figurative- 
 ly spoken, (which I rather suppose to be the purpose of 
 the Scripture, which, doth not, surely, superfluously ascribe 
 this benediction to the offspring of aquatic animals and 
 man only ;) then do we find " multitude" to belong to 
 creatures spiritual as well as corporeal, as in heaven and 
 earth, and to souls both righteous and unrighteous, as in 
 light and darkness ; and to holy authors who have been 
 the ministers of the Law unto us, as in the firmament which 
 is settled betwixt the waters and the ivaters ; and to the 
 society of people yet in the bitterness of infidelity, as in 
 the sea ; and to the zeal of holy souls as in the dry land ; 
 and to works of mercy belonging to this present life, as in 
 the herbs hearing seed, and in trees bearing fruit ; and 
 to spiritual gifts set forth for edification, as in the lights 
 of heaven ; and to affections formed unto temperance, as 
 in the living soul. In all these instances we meet with 
 multitudes, abundance, and increase ; but what shall in 
 such wise increase and multiply that one thing may be ex- 
 pressed many ways, and one expression understood many 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 277 
 
 ways ; we find not, except in signs corporeally expressed, 
 and in things mentally conceived. By sigiis corporeally- 
 pronounced we understand the generations of the waters, 
 necessarily occasioned by the depth of the flesh ; by things 
 mentally conceived, human generations, on account of the 
 fruitfulness of reason. And for this end do we believe 
 Thee, Lord, to have said to these kinds. Increase and mul- 
 tiply. For in this blessing, I conceive Thee to have granted 
 us a power and a faculty, both to express several ways what 
 we understand but one ; and to understand several ways, 
 what we read to be obscurely delivered but in one. Thus 
 are the waters of the sea replenished, which are not moved 
 but by several significations : thus with, human increase is 
 the earth also replenished, whose dryness appeareth in its 
 longing, and reason ruleth over it. 
 
 [XXV.] 38. I would also say, O Lord my God, what 
 the following Scripture minds me of ; yea, I will say, and 
 not fear. For I will say the truth. Thyself inspiring me 
 with what Thou willedst me to deliver out of those words. 
 But by no other inspiration than Thine, do I believe my- 
 self to speak truth, seeing Thou art the Truth, arid 
 every man a liar. He therefore that speaketh a lie, speak- 
 eth of his own ; that therefore I may speak truth, I will 
 speak of Thine. Behold, Thou hast given unto us for 
 food every herb hearing seed which is upon all the earth ; 
 and every tree, in lohich is the fruit of a tree yielding 
 seed. And not to us alone, but also io all the fowls of the 
 air, and to the beasts of the earth, and to all creeping 
 things ; but unto the fishes and to the great ivhales , hast 
 Thou not given them. Now we said that by these fruits 
 of the earth were signified, and figured in an allegory, the 
 works of mercy which are provided for the necessities of 
 this life out of the fruitful earth. Such an earth was ihe 
 devout Qnesiphorus, unto whose house Thou gavest mercy, 
 because he often refreshed Thy Paul,, and was not asham- 
 ed of his chain. Thus did also the brethren, and such 
 fruit did they bear, who out of Macedonia supplied what 
 was lacking to him. But how grieved he for some trees, 
 which did not aford him the fruit due unto him, where he 
 saith. At my first answer no man stood by me, but all men 
 forsook mz. I pray God that it may not be laid to their 
 23* 
 
378 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 charge. For these fruits are due to such as minister the 
 spiritual doctrine unto us out of their understanding of the 
 divine mysteries ; and they are due to them, as men; yea 
 and due to them also, as the living soul, which giveth it- 
 self as an example, in all continency ; and due unto them 
 also, as flying creatures, for their blessings which are mul- 
 tiplied upon the earth, because their sound went out into all 
 lands. 
 
 [XXVI.] 39. But they are fed by these fruits, that are 
 delighted with them ; nor are they delighted with them, 
 whose God is their belly. For neither in them that yield 
 them, are the things yielded the fruit, but with what mind 
 they yield them. He therefore that served God, and not 
 his own belly, I plainly see why he rejoiced ; I see it, 
 and I rejoice with him. For he had received from the 
 Philippians, what they had sent by Epaphroditus unto him : 
 and yet I perceive why he rejoiced. For whereat he re- 
 joiced upon that he fed ; for, speaking in truth, I rejoiced 
 (saith he) greatly in the Lord, that now at the last \ymir 
 care of me hath flourished again, wherein ye were also 
 careful, but it had become wearisome unto you. These 
 Phillippians then had now dried up, with a long weariness, 
 and withered as it were as to bearing \his fruit of a good 
 work ; and he rejoiceth for them, that they flourished 
 again, not for himself, that they supplied his wants. There- 
 fore subjoins he, not that I speak in respect of want, for I 
 have learned in whatsoever state I am, thereioith to be con- 
 tent. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to 
 abound ; every where and in all things I am instructed 
 both to be full, and to be hungry ; both to abound, and to 
 suffer need. I can do all things through Him which 
 strengtheneth me. 
 
 40. Whereat then rejoicest thou, O great Paul.? whereat 
 rejoicest thou .? whereon feedest thou, O man renewed in 
 the knowledge of God, after the image of Him that creat- 
 ed thee, thou living soul, of so much continency, thou 
 tongue like flying fowls, speaking mysteries .' (for to such 
 creatures, is this food due ;) what is it that feeds thee .? 
 Joy. Hear we what follows : notwithstanding, ye have 
 well done, that ye did communicate with my affliction. 
 Hereat he rejoiceth, hereon feedeth ; because they had 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 270 
 
 well done, not because his strait was eased, who saith 
 unto Thee, Thou hast enlarged me when I loas in distress ; 
 for that he knew to abound, and to suffer want, in Thee, 
 Who strengthenest him. For ye Phillippians also know, 
 (saith he,) that in the beginning of the Gospel, when I de- 
 parted from Macedonia, no Church communicated with me 
 as concerning giving and receiving, hut ye only. For 
 even in Thessalonica ye sent once again unto my necessity. 
 Unto these good works,' he now rejoiceth that they are re- 
 turned ; and is gladdened that they -flourished again, as 
 when a fruitful field resumes its green. 
 
 41. Was it for his own necessities, because he said. Ye 
 sent unto my necessity ? Rejoiceth he for that } Verily not 
 for that. But how know we this i Because himself says 
 immediately, not because I desire a gift, but I desire fruit. 
 I have learned of Thee, my God, to distinguish betwixt a 
 gift, and fruit. A gift, is the thing itself which he gives, 
 that imparts these necessaries unto us ; as money, meat, 
 drink, clothing, shelter, help : but the fruit, is the good 
 and right will of the giver. For the Good Master said not 
 only, He that receiveth a prophet, but added, in the name 
 of a prophet: nor did He only say. He that receiveth a 
 righteous man, but added in the name of a righteous man. 
 So verily shall the one receive the reward of a prophet, 
 the other, the reward of a righteous man : nor saith He 
 only, He that shall give to drink a cup of cold water to 
 one of my little ones ; but added, in the name of a disci- 
 ple : and so concludeth. Verily I say unto you, he shall not 
 . lose his reward. The gift is, to receive a prophet, to re- 
 ceive a righteous man, to give a cup of cold water to a dis- 
 ciple : but the fruit, to do this, in the name of a prophet, 
 in the name of a righteous man, in the name of a disciple. 
 
 'WiHa. fruit was Elijah fed by the widow that knew she 
 fed a man of God, and therefore fed him : but by the raven 
 was he fed with a gift. Nor was the inner man of Elijah 
 so fed, but the outer only ; which might also for want of 
 that food have perished. 
 
 [XXVII.] 42. I willthen speak. what is true in Thy 
 sight, O Lord, that when carnal men and infidels (for the 
 gaining and initiating whom, the initiatory Sacraments and 
 the mighty workings of miracles, are necessary, which we 
 
280 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 suppose to be signified by the name of fishes and wiliale's) 
 undertake the bodily refreshment, or otherwise succor 
 Thy servant with something useful for this present life ; 
 whereas they be ignorant, why this is to be done, and to 
 what end ; neither do they feed these, nor are these fed by 
 them ; because neither do the one do it out of an holy 
 and right intent ; nor do the other rejoice at their gifts, 
 whose _/rMii they as yet behold not; For upon that is the 
 mind fed, of which it is glad. And therefore do not 
 the fishes and whales feed upon such meats, as the earth 
 brings not forth until after it was separated and divided 
 from the bitterness of the waves of the sea. 
 
 [XXVIII.] 43. And O Thou, God, sawest every thing 
 that thou hadst made, and behold, it was very good. Yea 
 we also see the same, and behold, all things are very good. 
 Of the several kinds of Thy works, when Thou hadst 
 said " let them be," and they were, Thou sawest each that 
 it was good. Seven times have I counted it to be written, 
 that Thou sawest that that which Thou madest mas good : 
 and this is the eighth, that Thou sawest every thing that 
 Thou hadst made, and, behold it was not only good, but 
 also very good, as being now altogether. For severally, 
 they were only good ; but altogether, both good, and very 
 good. All beautiful bodies express the same ; by reason 
 that a body consisting of members all beautiful, is far more 
 beautiful than the same members by themselves are, by 
 whose well-ordered blending the whole is perfected ; not- 
 withstanding that the members severally be also beautiful. 
 
 [XXIX.] 44. And I looked narrowly to find, whether 
 seven, or eight times Thou sawest that Thy works were 
 good, when they pleased Thee ; but in Thy seeing I found 
 no times, whereby I might understand that Thou sawest so 
 often, what thou madest. And I said, " Lord, is not this 
 Thy Scripture true, since Thou art true, and being Truth, 
 hast set it forth .' why then dost Thou say unto me, 'that 
 in Thy seeing there be no times ;' whereas this Thy Scrip- 
 ture tells me, that what Thou madest each day. Thou saw- 
 est that it was good : and when I counted them, I found 
 how often. Unto this Thou answerest me, for Thou art my 
 God, and with a strong voice tellest Thy servant in his inner 
 ear, breaking through my deafness and crying, " O man, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 281 
 
 that which My Scripture saith, I say : and yet doth that 
 speak in time ; but time has no relation to My 'VJ^ord ; be- 
 cause ^y Word exists in equal eternity with Myself. So 
 the things which ye see through My Spirit, I see ; like as 
 what ye speak by My Spirit, I speak. And so when ye 
 see those things in time, I see them not in time ; as when 
 ye speak in time, I speak them not in time." 
 
 [XXX.] 45. And I heard, O Lord my God, and drank 
 up a drop of sweetness out of Thy truth, and understood, 
 that certain men there be who mislike Thy works ; and say 
 that many of them Thou madest, compelled by necessity ; 
 such as the fabric of the heavens, and harmony of the stars ; 
 and that Thou madest them not of what was Thine, but 
 that they were otherwhere and from other sources created, 
 for Thee to bring together and compact and combine, when 
 out of thy conquered enemies Thou raisedst up the walls 
 of the universe ; that they, bound down by this structure , 
 might notagain be able to rebel against Thee. For other 
 things, they say Thou neither madest them^nor even com- 
 pactedst them, such as all flesh and all very minute crea- 
 tures, and whatsoever hath its root in the earth ; but that a 
 mind at enmity with Thee, and another nature not created 
 by Thee, ancl contrary unto Thee, did, in these lower sta- 
 ges of the world, beget and frame these things. Phren- 
 sied are they who say thus, because they see not Thy 
 works by Thy Spirit, nor recognize Thee in them. 
 
 [XXXI.] 46. But they who by Thy Spirit see these 
 things, Thou seest in them. ' Therefore when they see that 
 these things are good, Thou seest that they are good ; and 
 whatsoever things for Thy sake please. Thou pleasest in 
 them, and what through Thy Spirit please us, they please 
 Thee in us. For what man knoweth the things of a man, 
 save the spirit of a man, which is in him 7 even so the 
 things of God knoweth no one, hut the Spirit of God. 
 Now we (saith he) have received, not the spirit of this 
 world, hut the Spirit which is of God, that we might know 
 the things that are freely given to us of God. And I am 
 admonished, "Truly the things of God knoweth no one, hut 
 the spirit of God ; how then do we also know, what things 
 are given us of God ?" ' Answer is made me ; " because 
 the things which we know by His Spirit, even these no one 
 
282 CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 knowetli, but the Spirit of God. For as it is rightly said 
 unto those that were fo speak by the Spirit of God, it is 
 not ye thai speak : so is it rightly said to them that know 
 through the Spirit of God, ' It is not ye that know.' And 
 no less then is it rightly said to those that see through the 
 Spirit of God, ' It is not ye that see ;' so whatsoever through 
 the Spirit of God -they see to be good, it is not they, but 
 God that sees that it is good." It is one thing then for a 
 man to think that evil which is good, as the forenamed do ; 
 another, that that which is good, a man should see that it 
 is good, (as Thy creatures be pleasing unto many, because 
 they be good, whom yet Thou pleasest not in them, when 
 they prefer to enjoy them, to Thee ;) and another, that 
 when a man sees a thing that it is good, God should in him 
 see that it is good, so, namely, that He should be loved in 
 that which He made, Who cannot be loved, but by the 
 Holy Ghost which he hath given. Because the love of God 
 is shed dbroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, Which is 
 given unto us : by Whom we see that whatsoever in any 
 degree is, is good. For from Him it is, who Himself Is 
 liot in degree, but what He Is, Is. 
 
 [XXXII.] 47. Thanks to Thee, O Lord, we behold the 
 heaven and earth, both the corporeal part, superior and in- 
 ferior, and the spiritual and corporeal creature ; and in the 
 adorning of these parts, whereof the universal pile of the 
 world, or rather the universal creation, doth consist, we 
 see light made, and divided from, the darkness. We see 
 the firmament of heaven, both that primary body of the 
 world, between the spiritual upper waters and the inferior 
 corporeal leaters, and, (since this also is called heaven) 
 this space of air through which wander the fowls of heav- 
 en, betwixt those waters which are in vapors, borne above 
 them, and in clear nights distill down in dew ; and those 
 heavier waters which flow along the earth. We behold a 
 face of waters gathered together in the fields of the sea ; 
 and the dry land both void, and formed so as io be visible 
 and harmonized, yea and the matter of herbs and trees. 
 We behold the lights shining from above, the sun to suf- 
 fice for the day, the moon and the stars to cheer the night ; 
 and that by all these, tinies should be marked and signi- 
 fied. We behold on all sides a moist element, replenished 
 
ST. 4UGUSTINE. 283 
 
 Witli fishes, beasts, and birds ; because the grossness of the 
 air, which bea,rs up the flights of birds, thickeneth itself 
 by the exhalation of the waters. We behold the face of the 
 earth decked out with earthly creatures, and man, created 
 after Xhy image and, likeness, even through that Thy very 
 image and likeness, (that is the power of reason and un- 
 derstanding,) set over all irrational creatures. And as in 
 his soul there is one power which has doniinion by direct- 
 ing, another made subject, that it might obey ; so was 
 there for the man, corporeally also, made a woman, who in 
 the mitud of her reasonable understanding should have a 
 parity of nature, but in the sex of her body, should be in 
 tike manner subject to the sex of her husband, as the ap- 
 petite of domg is fain to conceive the skill of right-doing, 
 irom the reason of the mind. These things we behold, and 
 they are severally good, and altogether very good. 
 
 [XXXIIL] 48. Let Thy works praise Thee, that we niay 
 love Thee j and let us love Thee, that Thy works may 
 praise Thee, which from time have beginning and ending, 
 rising and setting, growth and decay, form and privation. 
 They have then their succession of morning and evening, 
 part secretly, part apparently; for they were made of noth- 
 ing, by Thee, not of Thee ; not of any matter not Thine, 
 or that was before, but of matter qpncreated, (that is, at the 
 same time created by Thee,) because to its state witjiout^ 
 form. Thou without any interval of time didst give form. 
 Por seeing the matter of heaven and earth is one thing, and, 
 the form another, Thou madest the matter of merely noth- 
 ing, but the form of the world out of the matter vnthout 
 form : yet bQth together, so that the form should follow the 
 matter, without any interval of delay. 
 , {XXXIV.] 49. We have also examined what Thou will- 
 edst to be shadowed fprth, whether by the creation, or th© 
 relaf;ion of things in such an order. And we haw seen, 
 that things singly are good, and together very good, in thy 
 tiVord, in Thy Only -Begotten, both hsaven and earth, the 
 Head and iHe Body of the Church, in Thy' predestination 
 before all times, without mornings and evening. But when 
 Thou begannest to execute in time the things predestinatedi, 
 to the end Thou mightest reveal hidden things, and rectify 
 our disorders ; for our sins hung over us, and we had sunk 
 
284 CONFESSIONS OP 
 
 into the dark deep, and Thy good Spirit was tome over 
 us, to help us in due season ; and Thou didst justify the 
 ungodly, and dividest theni from the wicked ; and Thou 
 madest the firmament of authority of Thy book between 
 those placed above, who were to be docile unto Thee, and 
 those under, who were to be subject to them : and Thou 
 gatheredst together the society of unbelievers into one con- 
 spiracy, that the zeal of the faithful might appear, and they 
 might bring forth works of mercy, even distributing to the 
 poor their earthly riches, to obtain heavenly. And after 
 this didst Thou kindle certain lights in the firmament. Thy 
 Holy ones, having the word oj life ; and shining with an 
 eminent authority set on high through spirituakgifts ; after 
 that again, for the initiation of the unbelieving Gentiles, 
 didst Thou out of corporeal matter produce the Sacraments, 
 and visible miracles, and forms of words according to the 
 firmament of Thy Book, by which the faithful should be 
 blessed and multiplied. Next didst Thou form the living 
 soul of the faithful, through affections well ordered by the 
 vigor of continency : and after that, the mind subjected to 
 Thee alone and needing to imitate no human authority, 
 hast Thou renewed after Thy image and likeness ; and 
 didst subject its rational actions to the excellency of the 
 understanding, as the woman to the man ; and to all Offices 
 of Thy Ministry, necessary for the perfecting of the faith- 
 ful in this life. Thou willedst, that for their temporal uses, 
 good things, fruitful to themselves in time to come, be giv- 
 en by the same faithful. All these we see, and they are 
 very good, because Thou seest them in us. Who hast giv- 
 en unto us Thy Spirit, by which we might see them, and 
 in them love Thee. 
 
 [XXXV.] 50. O Lord God, give peace unto us ; (for 
 Thou hast given us all things ;) the peace of rest, the peace 
 of the Sabbath, which hath no evening. For all this most 
 goodly array of things very good, having finished their 
 courses, is to pass away, for in them there was morning 
 and evening. 
 
 [XXXVI.] 51. But the seventh day hath no evening, 
 n'or hath it setting ; because thou hast sanctified it to an 
 everlasting continuance ; that that which Thou didst after 
 Thy works which were very good, resting the seventh day, 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 2S5 
 
 although Thou madest them in unbroken rest, the voice of 
 Thy Book may announce beforehand unto us, that we also 
 after our works, (very good, because Thou hast given 
 them to us,) shall rest in Thee also, in the Sabbath of eter- 
 nal life. 
 
 [XXXVII.] 52. For Thou shalt rest in us, as now Thou 
 workest in us ; and Thy rest shall be through us, as Thy 
 works are through us. But Thou, Lord, ever workest, and 
 art ever at rest. Nor dost Thou see in time, nor art moved 
 in time, nor restest in a time ; and yet Thou makest things 
 seen in time, yea the times themselves, and the rest which 
 results from time. 
 
 [XXXVIII.] 53. We therefore see these things which 
 Thou madest, because they are ; but they are, because 
 Thou seest them. And we see without, that they are, and 
 within, that they are good ; but Thou sawest them when 
 made, as Thou sawest Them before they were made. And 
 we were at a later time moved to do well, after our hearts 
 had conceived of Thy Spirit ; but in the former time we were 
 moved to do evil, forsaking Thee ; but Thou, the One, the 
 Good God, didst never cease doing good. And we also 
 have some good works, of Thy gift, but not eternal ; after 
 them we trust to rest in thy great hallowing. But Thou, 
 being the Good which needeth no good, art ever, at rest, 
 because Thy rest is Thyself, and what man can teach man 
 to understand this .' or what angel an angel .' or what angel 
 a man ? Let it be asked of Thee, sought of Thee, knocked 
 for at Thee, so shall it be received, so shall it be found, 
 80 shall it be opened. 
 
 THE END. 
 24